usadeepsouth.com
~a memoir~
by Billy Tom (Bubba) Lusk
On fishing:
There are at least three reasons I can think of as to why I'm not now nor ever have been a fisherman.
The three I recall are –
1. My daddy, Claud Arthur Lusk
2. My friend, Henry Park Hiter
3. And that fishing boat in Bayou La Batre courtesy of my Uncle Tillman Lee Lusk, a Mississippi College graduate and a Chicago CPA.
1. Daddy
Daddy was a devout cane pole fisherman for white perch (crappie) and blue gill bream, and he took it most seriously. We went mostly to Lake Beulah off the Blue Hole and to Merigold Club or the Neblett Landing Lake. We'd get there as early as we could and launch out with a large keg of shiners and our gear and our food. This could easily be for all day unless the water got rough. My problem with this was the food. Daddy would take sufficient food, but it wasn't too tasty for one thing, and he metered it out in very minute amounts – and he kept it in his end of the boat.He used the same food for squirrel hunting. I’m not sure if it also went on his duck hunts.
The food consisted of hoop cheese, crackers, grapes and raisins, all very nourishing but no blessing to the taste. Of course, he had bottles of artesian water, not thermos but bottles, mostly bottles that had served their day as grocery store juice bottles and possibly even a term as containers of corn whiskey. As much as I love my Daddy, I vowed that if I ever got away from that long, hot, boring fun sport of fishing I'd stay away . . . and I did.
2. Henry “Shorty” Hiter
After WWII, when I started back to Mississippi State in January of '46, I met Henry. He was a 25 combat mission veteran of B-24 bombing over Europe. He was a pilot, and the homefolks were very proud of his war record. I had heard of him before WWII but had never met him. He went to Ole Miss before the war and was, I think, planning to become a medical doctor. But after the war he came to the Ag school at Mississippi State 'cause he was then headed for being a farmer. He's the only pistol shooter I ever shot with who could outshoot me. He could just about outshoot anyone with shotgun, rifle or pistol. (He's at present in a nursing home in Cleveland.) 
My fishing experience with HPH consisted of one whole day. On his jeep he carried one of his several boats. This boat was especially adapted to loading and unloading with no great effort. To shorten the story, we tested every water hole within five miles of Merigold Hunting Club. This meant unloading and launching (after reloading gear) the boat and then casting anywhere from 5 to 25 different lures. If no fish responded, we'd go to the next water hole.
I don't think I exaggerate saying Henry's big tackle box held about a hundred lures (just a fraction of his total supply). The box had three or four shelves on each of two sides. And I, a raw recruit, had a little tackle box and a reel my Dad had owned. I had maybe ten lures, and I could test 2 or maybe 3 while HP tested a dozen.
Later I found out that HP had, for years, had a farm hand who went with him to "help" and that the hand had finally worn out – and that on that day I was really a poor substitute for that man ‘cause Henry wore me out in just one day.
The point of the story is that I was cured of any fishing fever and certainly cured of going with my good friend Henry. We got along a lot better hunting deer and ducks and geese, but that's other stories.
3.Gulf fishing – compliments of Uncle Tillman.
My Uncle William Jasper Lusk, M.D., of Ruleville, and his buddies (a group who always went Gulf fishing together) invited Uncle Tillman to go with them. Uncle Tillman had paid all the expense, but at the last minute his business wouldn't allow him to leave so he made me a gift of the "deep sea fishing" trip. 
Briefly it went like this: We went out into the Gulf, and after about one reasonably calm day we hid on the downwind (think they called it leeward) side of an island 'cause the water was just too rough for fishing. I was seasick most of the time, but I still had to do my duty by sitting in the fishing chair. Well, one day I was sleeping while "on duty," so the men somehow attached something to my fishing line so it would run out to the end and appear to be a large fish striking. I jerked awake and started reeling, and the others were all yelling and acting excited. All went according to their plan, and when I reeled in the whatever, then the guys really had their fun.
The best part of the trip was that there was a terrific chef aboard and we were served freshly seined shrimp nearly every day. I'm not one to let an upset stomach take away my appetite.
That’s enough for now. I’ll come up with more stories, I’m sure . . .
Billy Tom’s memoirs are full of Mississippi Delta history:
Part I: Early memories
Part II: Stories from my youth
Part III: Influences on my life
Part IV: College days and WWII enlistment
Part V: Thoughts on religion
Part VI: On fishing
BIO: A Mississippi Delta native, Billy Tom "Bubba" Lusk has resided in Texas since 1961. He's a graduate of Mississippi State University ('49), and has worked in agriculture and insurance. During WWII, he served with the 541st Parachute Infantry Regiment, but saw no combat. He and his wife, Barbara, have 4 children and 7 grandchildren.
Read many more great stories listed on our USADS memoir pages.
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