A 2007 inductee into the Bass Fishing Hall of Fame, Stan was one of the pioneers of bass fishing in the western United States. No one in that part of the country has written more about bass fishing. He began writing immediately after returning from almost two years of service in an infantry rifle company in the jungles of the South Pacific during World War II and stayed with it his whole life.
Stan was an award-winning outdoor writer whose works have been published in such prestigious publications as Bassmaster, Bassin', Field & Stream, Outdoor Life, Sports Afield, and many others. He also wrote countless newspaper columns, as well as material that appeared in four different Internet columns.
His artistry with a fishing rod was well-established, as evidenced by the fact Stan was known internationally as "The Master Caster." His skills with casting and spinning equipment took him from Tulsa to Tokyo and from Birmingham to Brazil. Years ago, Covey Bean, an outdoor writer for the Sunday Oklahoman, wrote: "When Stan Fagerstrom talks casting, people listen." Decades have passed since those words were first penned, but folks today still talk about the casting magic possessed by this white-haired wonder.
Stan's casting has been featured in a variety of television shows, both stateside and abroad. For example, he once was a guest on the Jo Soares evening program while appearing at an outdoor show in Sao Paulo, Brazil. Soares often is called the "David Letterman of South America." Stan also gave a private casting demonstration for Japan's Princess Nobuko while participating in a major outdoor show in Tokyo.
Stan was the only writer from the Pacific Northwest invited to the first Bassmasters Classic at Lake Mead. He covered more than 30 Classics for a variety of publications during the ensuing years. When he wasn't riding along with a Classic competitor, he was giving casting demonstrations at the Classic Outdoor Show.
Fagerstrom won numerous awards for his writing. Some of his poetry dealing with fishing has been widely published in both printed media and on the Internet. Besides his newspaper and magazine work, he wrote three books on fishing and starred in two instructional videos on casting.
Stan did more than just write about fishing. Early in his career, he participated in the Oregon Bass & Panfish Club's annual "Biggest Bass Contest." He won all five years in which he competed. He also was a long-time member of the Outdoor Writers of America and a charter member of the Northwest Outdoor Writers Association. Besides his induction into the Bass Fishing Hall of Fame, Stan also was inducted into the National Freshwater Fishing Hall of Fame. And in 2001, he was presented with the National Professional Anglers Association's Honorary Lifetime membership award.
At each and everyone of Stan's casting exhibitions, attendees always heard him close this way: "The next best thing to fishing is having a chance to write and talk about it. I thank you, and I thank God for giving me another opportunity to do that here today."
Stan passed away peacefully at home on June 11, 2019, just a few days after his 96th birthday, surrounded by loved ones.
And finally, I can think of no better way of closing this tribute to Stan Fagerstrom than by reprinting one of his poems that appeared in the April 1993 issue of Washington Fishing Holes:
Sammy's Wish
By Stan Fagerstrom
None of us knows what God has in mind
For you or for me and sometimes we find
That He sends us down some unknown lane
I know it's true because it was made plain
I travel a bunch and when I'm on the road
I get so darn lonesome it's like pulling a load
And one day last fall I followed my rule
To always go for a walk and it led by a school
I stood there awhile and watched the kids play
As I turned to walk off I heard a voice say
"My name is Sammy and I wanted to see
Have you got a minute you could just talk to me?
My daddy got killed in that Desert Storm war
My mother says I'll never see him no more
I guess if I had only one special wish
It would be for a dad who could teach me to fish."
"Now look, kid," I said, as gruff as I could
"Don't be talkin' to strangers I could be up to no good,"
But I looked over my shoulder as I walked away
I was hoping he'd run off with the others to play.
I went back to my room and just sat there thinking
With a heart full of sadness and my spirits sinking
So a couple of hours later I jumped in my car
And drove back to the school, it wasn't that far
I waited near the fence until school was done
And I watched all the kids until I spotted that one
He'd gone maybe a mile, when he turned down a lane
And crossed over some tracks to a small house so plain
I walked up to that shack and knocked at the door
The woman who answered had been sweeping the floor
She looked up at me and said, "What do you want?"
And what I saw in her face will my dreams ever haunt
I said, "Don't misunderstand," not knowing what to say
"But I just ran into your Sammy today
He told me he wanted to learn how to fish
I'd sure like to help that little boy get his wish.
Well, she wasn't sure and it didn't surprise
But it was easy to see the want in her eyes
I gave her the number of some friends in that town
I said, "Check me out, I'll be back around."
I didn't get back to that place for awhile
But what happened when I did still makes me smile
I'd loaded my wagon so full of tackle and gear
That kid could fish until this time next year
His mother ran out the door as I came up the walk
"Mister," she said, "you'n me gotta talk."
That's when she told me she'd been praying you see
That somewhere out there might be someone like me
To help take the place of a dad her son wouldn't know
I told her I'd try but it was so hard not to show
The way my heart was pounding and my feelings inside
I knew then who had sent me to Little Sam's side
I stop and see Sammy every chance I get
We fish together and I've never yet
Felt lost or lonely when his hand's in mine
While we're together the sun seems always to shine
His mom's found a job on the other side of town
She told me they were moving last time I was down
And tonight when I kneel in my motel room to pray
I'll thank God again for sending Sammy my way
As I said before, we don't always know
What God has in mind as we reap and we sow
But He made my life richer, I can't measure the joy
Just by letting me help that one little boy.
No comments:
Post a Comment