It’s a good time of year to ponder the past and remember things to be thankful for. As a kid I had experiences that shaped the man I became. In some cases I knew that was happening, and in some cases I didn’t.

One experience in particular helped me learn about myself. I was 9 years old and spent most free hours at the riverbed near my house. I had a BB gun pretty much permanently affixed to my right hand, which left the other hand available to hold the ever-present fishing pole. I’m pretty sure it won’t surprise any of you to know that’s the way I grew up.

One day I heard a noise and a yelp of pain 100 yards away from where I was hunting alone. I investigated and found another kid just a little older who had wound up in a tough spot. He was making a fort (a favorite pastime of many of us) and had dug too far under a large boulder. It had subsequently shifted and rolled onto the kid’s leg. I didn’t know if the leg was broken, but I did see that the boulder was too heavy for me to move even using a branch for leverage. The kid was stuck.

I noticed his BB gun resting against a bush a few feet beyond his reach. It was a brand-new beauty — the kind I had been wanting. He saw me looking at it and his eyes grew wide as he realized I could easily take it and walk away. Neither of us spoke for a long while. Then I whispered to myself, “Well, guess you’re never going to be a robber.”


I handed the kid his BB gun, told him to defend himself with it if need be while I went for help. I soon found some grown-ups to move the boulder. The kid was bruised but not broken, and the two of us became friends and developed a great trust between us.

Here is the story of a much different set of lessons, taught to the tune of a hickory stick.

In my preteens and early teens I spent many a day working on an open party fishing boat owned by a friend of my family. The work was long and dirty, and sometimes I was very cold and wet. I didn’t get paid even one red cent, though I did occasionally get tips. I was yelled at, bossed around and got my hind end spanked or my shoulder backhanded if I didn’t do things right. But I was taught how to work so as to be proud of the results, and I was allowed to fish during a hot bite. Those were both great rewards.

Maybe it was a bit brutal and maybe by today’s standards I could perhaps have sued the guy for child abuse and child labor law infringement. Looking back now, those were defining years, and I sure wouldn’t trade those experiences. By the way, my parents did know about how I was treated and they let me decide for myself whether I wanted to keep doing it. They were ready to back my decision, either way.

I did stay with it because I knew I was gaining valuable lessons the old-school way. Those lessons are still paying off for me.

— Capt. David Bacon operates WaveWalker Charters and is president of SOFTIN Inc., a nonprofit organization providing seafaring opportunities for those in need. Visit softininc.blogspot.com to learn more about the organization and how you can help.

— Capt. David Bacon operates WaveWalker Charters and is president of SOFTIN Inc., a nonprofit organization providing seafaring opportunities for those in need. Visit softininc.blogspot.com to learn more about the organization and how you can help. Click here to read previous columns. The opinions expressed are his own.