By Jack Hudson
Depression-era stories about blacks and whites in an isolated Delta community, Hudson’s WWII experiences, farming in the bottomlands.
96 pp. paper

Excerpt from Fishin', Fightin', Feedin' & Farmin':

About 2 weeks later, [when] I went fishing again, I decided to check old Luke's log. When I looked in I saw the largest catfish I had ever seen. I eased away, I didn't want to scare it. When I got home I went down to Dill's house. I told him that I had seen a catfish in Old Luke's log that would way 50 lbs. It had started raining so we couldn't work in the cotton next day. I told Dill to get a 9 ft. pick sack and we would stretch it over the open end of the log. He could hold the sack and I would take a stick and punch the fish and run it in to the sack.

We carried a plow line to tie onto the pick sack. We then tied the rope to a bush by the log. When I punched the catfish the log exploded. When it hit the end of the sack it jerked Dill into the watter. All I could see was Dill's feet, the fish was headed for deep watter. I ran back to the bush and got a hold on the rope. I was able to pull the fish and Dill back to shallow watter. I asked Dill why he didn't turn the sack loose, he said he didn't have time, when the fish hit the end of the sack, it was just like a bull.

We both got hold of the rope and pulled the fish out on the bank. We opened the sack and looked in. It was one big catfish. I asked Dill what it would way. His eyes were big as saucers. He said good God. I think he will way 100 lbs, you could have put your head in its mouth. We didn't know how we were going to get the fish on the mule's back. . . .