On occasion, Pastor Heisz would like to come over and fish in this little pond on our place. There's an old flat bottom boat down there. It's probably still the way he left it. It's just turned upside down on the bank and I'm scared to put my hands under there and flip it over. Pastor Heisz wasn't scared of snakes, skunks or any such thing. He'd lift it up, give it a push into the water, run after it few steps it and jump in like a young kid in a Mark Twain novel. I had to give that boat a name. I named it "Visitation". So, if anyone was looking for the Pastor, he could truthfully say that he was out on visitation. Now, I had caught a large mouth bass out of that pond, the biggest I ever caught, and to Susie's tolerance, it occupies a place of honor on the wall in our house. One day, Pastor Heisz came charging up the hill with his bucket and pole. He was dancing all around, breathing hard, his sentences were kind mumbled, and he pointed to the house. I thought he had to use the bathroom. I pointed to the front door, and off he went - through the gate, up the steps, and barging into the house. I chuckled to myself, "Man, he really had to go!" My laughter turned to suprise when I got inside to discover that Pastor Heisz was not in the bathroom. He had produced a tape measure and was holding it up to my bass on the wall. I asked, "What are doing?" He looked at me, recited some number and so many 16th's. Then, he charged back outside chanting that number over and over. By the time I caught up with him, he'd pulled out this large mouth bass and had the tape measure held up to it. Again I proclaimed, "What are you doing?" He quickly spun around and said, "Yes! Mine's bigger?"
