My dad always said the Bluegill in the lake were “…as big as your hand!”
My dad taught me to live simply, think positively, choose kindness, and to always work hard. He was especially fond of fishing, and enjoying a great cigar. Some of the best memories shared with him were when we were casting lines in a body of water somewhere. It could be a pond, a lake, a stream, a river, or just offshore in the flats of The Gulf of Mexico. He could catch his limit in any condition.
Growing up, I was blessed to have a small pond behind the house, and a 14′ john boat with an underpowered trolling motor. Weather permitting, we’d often head out at dawn, tackle boxes full of colorful gear, and several rods rigged and ready to go. After a bit, dad would cut the motor, and the boat would drift with the wind for a few casts. As the sun rose, we settled in the shade along the shoreline and the ritual of sipping & smoking would commence.
The squeaky lid on the old metal thermos announced the coffee was being poured, and the warm earthy aroma would waft to the bow of the boat. With the steaming coffee in his mug, the cigar was next. Dad’s fishing vest featured a cutter on a retractable lanyard to snip the cap off his cigar. He favored a swift straight cut, you’d hear the snip followed by several rapid clicks of him opening and closing the blades to clear the small fragments of tobacco holding on.
He’d toast the foot of his cigar with the soft flame generated by scrolling the gritty sparkwheel of his trusty BIC®. Then he’d gently blow on it like it was an ember of glowing tinder at the start of a primitive campfire. The first few puffs of smoke extended like blue and grey ribbons flowing over the water, sending the scents of leather and spice downwind. While it wasn’t important that we caught any fish, dad always seemed to lure a keeper into the boat, even if the rest of us didn’t. He’d wink, smirk, and say ‘it’s all in the wrist’. When I was of age, I began smoking cigars, and further devloped my own passion for fishing too.
As he got older there were less outings in the boat, but we could still enjoy a good cigar and jaw about the one (or two) that got away. In June of 2023, at 90 years old, he shared what would be his last cigar, surrounded by friends and family who gathered for his birthday to celebrate a life well lived. A few weeks later, in his words, ‘his time was up’ and he passed away peacefully. In the weeks that followed so many brothers & sisters of the leaf shared stories of meeting my dad, smoking cigars, and shooting the breeze with him at one of the local shops, or visiting on his back porch.
In honor of my dad, I created Lure Cigars as a way to remember some of the best times shared with him and to encourage others to make time to … Smoke Great Cigars & Tell Tall Tales.
