The Grandbaby

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The Grandbaby

Up in the North Georgia hills up past Suches, up about Hells Holler and Devils Den they tell a story. They say that when the leaves turn the color of blood and the moon hangs like a old orange pumpkin in the sky and a cold wind blows down out of Big Frog, an age old ritual comes to pass. The elders take the youngest of the clan and dress them in their finest denim and trucker hats and lead them down out of the hills. Down to where the water runs cold and deep. Down in the shade of the ironwood tree. Down by the big rock at the bend in the river with worms and crickets and then there’s blood. Lots of blood. That’s when it does its worst. The Grandbaby.  Happy Halloween From G&G!

Seriously guys, teach your kids that it’s more fun to release a fish than to kill it. And if you want to read something really scary, check out Kent’s story on the death of the Toccoa River in Southern Culture on the Fly. The new issue launches tomorrow!

Louis Cahill
Gink & Gasoline

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4 thoughts on “The Grandbaby

  1. I just want to where in the world did you get that creepy doll????? And by the way Louis my teeth don’t look like that!

    • If you say so…

      I cobbled that together in Photoshop. I did it years ago as a joke. A buddy of mine lives on a great trout stream and all his neighbors would catch and release except this one guy let his little granddaughter kill every fish she could get her hands on. His excuse was “she’s my Grandbaby”. It just stuck and became a long running joke. Happy I could share it.

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