“CATCH OF A LIFETIME” By James P. Lenfetsy

He was eleven years old, and went fishing every chance he got from the dock at this family’s cabin on an island in the middle if a New Hampshire lake.

On the day before the bass season opened, he and his father were fishing early in the evening, catching sunfish, perch and worms. Then he tied on a small silver lure and practiced casting. The lure struck the water and caused colored ripples in the sunset, then silver ripples as the moon rose over the lake.

When his pole doubled over, he knew something huge was on the other end. His father watched with admiration as the boy skillfully worked the fish alongside the dock.

Finally he very gingerly lifted the exhausted fish from the water. It was the largest one he had ever seen, but it was a bass. The boy and the father looked at the handsome fish in the moonlight. The father lit a match and looked at his watch. 

It was 10:00 PM—two hours before the season opened. He looked at the fish, then at the boy.
“You’ll have to put it back   son,” he said.
“Dad!” cried the boy.
“There will be other fish,” said the father.
“Not as big as this one,” cried the boy.”

He looked around the lake. No other fisherman or boats were anywhere around in the moonlight. He looked again at his father.

Even though no one had seen them, nor would anyone ever know what time he caught the fish, the boy could tell by the clarity of his dad’s voice that the decision was not negotiable. He slowly worked the hook out of the lip of the huge bass, and lowered it back into the black water. The creature swished its powerful body and disappeared. The boy suspected that he would never see such as great fish 

That was thirty-four years ago. Today, the boy is a successful architect in New York City. His dad’s cabin is still is still there on the island in the middle of the lake. He takes his own son and daughters fishing from the same dock. And he was right. He has never again caught such a magnificent fish as the one he landed that long night ago. But he does see the same fish—again and again—every time he come up against a question of ethics. 

For, as his father taught him ethics are simple matters of right and wrong. It is only the practice of ethics that is difficult. The decision to do right lives fresh in our memory. Not about how we had a chance to beat the system and took it, but how we did the right thing and were forever strengthened.