Ed J. Sherck
Well, Some sad news on the outdoor front. I lost one of my favorite fishing buddies yesterday. Grandpa Sherck is gone at 91 years old. He will be sorely missed, but he and I had a lot of years to sit and trade outdoor stories. In fact, I was just out to see him two weeks ago. To a kid like me, Grandpa was larger than life. He was the guy who ran a very successful business building houses in Wooster, Ohio. He was the guy who eventually tinkered in Ohio Oil (what fun to visit the wells with Grandpa). He was the guy who grew up fishing Lake Erie and the Ottawa River up in Quebec. He was the Moose hunter who walked the Canadian bush with a Mauser 98. Some of my favorite stories are about Grandpa's flying days. He was a weekend bush pilot who flew a Cessna 170 
Cessna 170from Wooster up into Canada. He would land at the local airstrip, roll the plane down the local road to the marina, guys would winch up his plane, drop in on his floats, push it down the muddy banks to the water and then Grandpa would lift off and fly to Fort Coulonge on the Ottowa River. The family cabin was up there. The Shercks wandered the woods and fished the waters. Back in the day before big boats and modern gear, Dad and Grandpa would get stuck across the river when bad weather hit. That meant fending for themselves in the woods. Although I never got to see the Ottawa River spots firsthand, I feel like I was there. Like I said, Grandpa and I traded a lot of stories over the years. In fact, I now have all his slides. I'm sure I'll sit down a lot and click in a few trays from the old spots. Grandpa he helped teach me to fish. He taught me the maple syrup business. 
Sherck's Sugar ShackSee, when most kids would head off to spring break growing up, we'd visit the farm in Wooster and make syrup. Oh, 
Three Generations of Fishermendid I mention the stream that ran through his property? I suppose that's where I got the itch to wander trout waters. Yep, Grandpa was larger than life. Of course, I could wax endlessly about all he taught me. I'll keep it short and just say I suppose Dad (who is, of course, my other favorite fishing buddy and teacher) will just have to fish a little harder and enjoy the smell of the woods a little more each time we head out. It'll be our way of remembering Grandpa Sherck...