Arriving home from treating our 6 year old granddaughter, Jane, to dinner at her favorite restaurant, (Skyline Chili;) we did what all families do as soon as the door to the house is opened,- someone immediately goes to the television to see what is on. The evening news was running a human-interest story about a prized fish that got away from an amateur angler. He was explaining to the reporter, in great detail, his valiant struggle to land this titian of the sea. His story brought a smile to my face as I thought; “he thinks he lost a big one.” I must have laughed out loud because Janie asked me what was so funny. Before I could answer my intuitive granddaughter; my wife blurted out, “you’re not going to tell that ridiculous pigeon story are you? I’ve heard it a hundred times!” She then muttered loud enough for all to hear “fishing for pigeons; that’s the craziest thing I ever heard.” I defiantly fired back, “I know you’ve heard the story a few times but Janie hasn’t.” Right on cue, Janie pleads for Grandpa to tell her the story about fishing for pigeons. She crawled up on the couch next to me and I began the tale I entitled “The Pigeon that Got Away.”

Long, long ago on a beautiful summer day in 1960, my two brothers and I left the house early Saturday morning to deliver the Dayton Journal Herald newspaper. Our routes took us all over lower Riverdale. Usually we would all be done by 7:00 a.m. - except for me. Being an adventurous lad with a vivid imagination, I would explore the Stillwater River area (only two blocks from my house) and pretend to be an American soldier fighting the Germans or Japanese; or a pirate looking for buried treasure. When I finally got home, we all knew the rule of the house was to be very quiet and not to make any unnecessary noise. If by chance, we did wake any member of the family, we would be in trouble. So as not to disturb anyone, I took off my gym shoes and quietly headed straight upstairs to bed and back to sleep.

My brother Bob came in the house next and immediately sat down at the kitchen table; ate a couple pieces of toast and a downed a big bowl of cereal. Moments later the soft footsteps of Mom could be heard entering the kitchen. Her morning routine never varied. She poured herself a cup coffee and then proceeded to read the morning newspaper.

Finishing his breakfast, Bob bolted upstairs and quickly closed my bedroom door. He paced around the small room looking for something. I could tell that he was wide awake and that meant I wouldn’t get any more sleep. With Mom downstairs he knew we couldn’t go outside and play. It was way too early for that. I then heard, “Jim, are you asleep?” (He knows I am not.) He then shakes me to make sure I’m awake. Bob whispers “I’ve got a great idea for us.” My brother Bob had a great imagination, just like his little brother, so I was expecting almost anything. But his great ideas usually led to nothing but BIG trouble for me. [For example, he decided to build a soap box racer and have me as the test pilot. I had to admit it sounded like fun. He decided to have our maiden run on one of the hilliest streets in our neighborhood. At the top of the hill he tapped me on the head and sent me cascading down the hill from hell. As I plummeted to what ever fate had in store for me; I realized two things: Bob forgot to install the all important brake; (or did he?!) He also forgot to plan for the police, (or did he?) who now suddenly appeared and were in hot pursuit (lights and all) of one out-of-control soap box racer! Happy to report I did not wreck, nor was I arrested.

Bob’s imagination on this morning, must have been working overtime I thought, for what he said next blew my mind. We are going to fish for pigeons! I set up in bed and quizzically looked at him. I knew better than to ask any questions, so I just sat there on the edge of my bed and watched him proceed to take out the second story window screen. He said to me, “I have something to show you.” Now wide awake, I think to myself, “this should be interesting.” Bob had smuggled up a couple pieces of bread and began to tear them up into small pieces. He took the assorted pieces of bread and neatly piled them up on my desk. The next step to his plan took him to my closet, where he searched for my fishing pole. With pole in hand, Bob skillfully attached a small hook and sinker to the line. Here is where I became his willing accomplice. Bob instructed me to throw out a few handfuls of bread to entice the pigeons. He then announced that within a few minutes the yard would be filled with our feathery prey.

Those few minutes turned into a fifteen minute wait before our hungry friends arrived. Bob peeked out the window and saw to his utter delight that much of our yard was now covered with pigeons having a grand feast. He picked up my fishing pole, placed a piece of bread on the hook, and cast the line out the window. He triumphantly proclaimed “we are now fishing for pigeons!” “Well,” I thought to myself, “this is turning out to be quite the fun adventure!” Unbeknownst to any family member, Bob and I were now fishing for pigeons from my bedroom window. In the next few minutes my brother Bob would prove to be one smart guy! I was soon to find out just how smart and clever he really was.

As with all his great schemes, Bob had failed once again to calculate one small factor, Mom. She must have heard all those pigeons cooing outside her kitchen window. So our dear Mother, being the bird lover of the family, peered out the window and not only saw the pigeons; but a peculiar line dangling down from the second story. She went outside to investigate this mysterious line and naturally grabbed it and gave it a tug. Bob felt a little nibble, and excitedly turned to me and proclaimed, “We got one!” He anxiously stuck his head out the window and to his great surprise he saw Mom’s hand pulling on the fishing line.

Bob must have had an epiphany when he realized that his great idea was about to be unraveled and he would be blamed. Handing me the fishing pole, he said “Jim I want you to have the honor of catching the first pigeon.” I leaped from my bed and as soon as I grasped the pole, there was a sudden yank on the line that made the fishing pole almost bend in half. My heart was starting to pound faster and faster with the anticipation of landing my first pigeon. With the next pull on the line I excitedly screamed out “I GOT A BIG ONE!” With that, the whole house erupted. Dad jumped out of bed, thinking the house was on fire. Mom heard all the commotion upstairs, but by now the line had wrapped itself around her hand and she was screaming for help. Dad heard me scream again, “I GOT A BIG ONE!” Bob, knowing all hell is about to be unleashed on whoever is holding the fishing pole, smartly disappeared from my room seconds before Dad stormed in. As Dad entered my room, he saw my fishing pole bobbing up and down. Just for a second, he must have thought I had truly caught a big one. I turned and looked into my Dad’s eyes and knew we were in serious trouble. I looked over to where Bob had been sitting, hoping he would share the blame with his little brother; but, he had conveniently vanished. I told you he was smart! As Dad was marching me down stairs to see if Mom was alright, we passed Bob’s room. This was his cue to yell out “what’s going on?” I had been set up by the master.

To both of our delights Mom was fine. Mom, who had always taken my side, came to my defense once again. She put her arm around my still steaming Dad, and playfully said; “dear, he did catch a big one, didn’t he?” Dad smiled and said “maybe it’s time I take Jimmy fishing for real.” Needless to say, Dad ended my fishing for pigeon career that day without saying a word! By the way, I never actually hooked the pigeon, so it was never harmed in anyway

THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE A PIGEON, JUST ASK YOURSELF, I WONDER IF THAT’S THE BIG ONE THAT GOT AWAY!