Yesterday marked one
year since my mother passed. It was really no different than any other day
since, significant only that it was marked by a milestone. I chose to unplug, keep
quiet and got through the day doing what I had to do until I could escape into my
tying room. Mom was always fascinated with my fly tying and the number of flies
I tied. She asked me once how I learned to tie so many different patterns. I
showed her a book, the first one I bought when I was just learning to tie and
told her that it and the man who wrote it had changed my life.
That man passed
yesterday.
I took the book of
the shelf last night and thumbed through the pages as I have done millions of
times while memories of mom and the author alternately flooded my mind.
I met Lefty Kreh several
times over the years at shows I was tying at. I say “met” because we never
spent more than a few minutes together nor had conversations that people who
have “known” each other for years do. Lefty would stop by my table, paw through
my display box and pick up a fly, look at it and nod or give me a wink and then
put it in the box as he asked me how I was and how striper fishing had been the
previous season. I’m not sure he ever knew my name, he would always greet me
with, “Hey, Mad Dog…” I never corrected him, doing so seemed disrespectful and
to be honest, I thought it was cool.
There was an occasion
nine or ten years ago at the Bears Den Fly Show where I shared a moment with Lefty
that I will never forget. It was late in the afternoon, the crowd was thinning
out and a gentleman and his son were at my table watching me tie a sand eel
pattern. The boy was probably twelve or thirteen and had just bought a fly
tying kit. He was full of questions about materials and asked me to tie another
sand eel so he could see all the steps. As I put a fresh hook in the vise Lefty
sat down in a chair at the table next to me and watched and listened as I went through
each step of building the fly. When I finished I gave the boy the fly out of
the vise and reached for another that was finished with epoxy.
Lefty grabbed the finished
fly from my hand and asked me what I called it. I said, “That’s called the
Cichetti’s Sand Eel.”
He asked, “Who is
Cichetti?” I told him how one of my customers had been given one of the flies
by a fisherman on Cape Cod named Rob Cichetti and asked me to duplicate it. I
explained that after talking to Rob and asking for his blessing to copy it, I
added it to my line. Lefty nodded and said, “Good man. That’s a neat fly.” Handing
the fly to the boy, he said, “That’s gonna catch you some fish.”
I asked Lefty if he
wanted one of the flies and he just smiled, tapped the side of his temple with
a finger and said, “I got it right here.”
The boy and his
father thanked me and as they walked away Lefty put his hand on my shoulder and
said, “You made that kid’s day.”
Lefty, you made this
kid’s day every time we met, as you did with everyone blessed to share time
with you over the years.
Thank you, sir. You will be missed.
Rest in peace.
South River, MA
15 March 2018
