Goin Fishin’
by Alice Harbison
Now Pa and me went fishin;
Jest the other day,
And we saw them little fishes,
Why they were swimmin’ every way.
Alice Harbison is pictured with a group of teachers she worked with at Jones
Chapel, including her daughter. (Front row from left) Patti Freeman: school
secretary, Mike Rogers: principal, Susan Hall: aid, Sherry Motes: middle
School teacher
(Middle row) Virgina Kugler: 4th grade, Amy Makwana: 1st grade, Rita
Privett: kindergarten, Janet Turner: kindergarten,Lynn Moody 5th grade
(Top row) Lorene Waldrep:1st grade, Alice Harbison: 3rd grade, Sharon
Ferguson: title I, Bonita Peppers :2nd grade
Reading and writing has always been a deep love for
Harbison. Now that she is getting older, she said that she
tries to spend as much as she can recording stories of her
history, of her family, that she know her grandson will
some-day cherish.
As she flipped through an album of poetry, one particu-
lar piece of her writing caught the eye “Don’t Worry About
Me.”
“This was something I put together for my mother and
when she died, I was able to find someone help me turn
into a song so it could be played at her funeral,” she said.
The words are beautiful and anyone reading any of the
poetry could tell Harbison had a unique relationship with
words and even art—she could weave them to make the
scenario come to life.
“Look at the one with the turtle,” she said with a huge
smile on her face.
The words, written below a turtle she had painted, said:
“When you see a turtle on top of a fence post, chances
are he did not get there on his own.” (Unknown) When we
think about all the people who have helped us, it starts to
become clear that our life goals simply cannot be reached
on their own. We need our family, friends, and most of all
God. Through his grace, He helps us to reach our higher
goal—Eternity in Heaven. Thank Him for his plan of salva-
tion.”
The wealth of her talent in writing didn’t just stop with
20 | SUMMER 2020
Pa sat down by the river,
With his fishin pole in han
Then he looks over at me and says,
“Girl, hand me a worm from that can.”
“Who me?” I wanted to ask him,
But there was no one else around,
So I got up rather slowly,
And the worm can soon I found.
My belly started to rumble
I turned sick and began to cry,
No matter how hard I might try.
Hurry my child, get busy,
If you’re fishin’ here with me,
Cause every minute that’s wasted,
Means a fish goin’ free.
I can’t do it. Pa,” I said with a groan.
I guess fishin’s not for me,
Cause if it takes handling these gooey worms,
The fish can ALL go free.
Dinner’s gonna be pretty slim,
For a girl who won’t bait her hook,
Cause Ma will be disappointed,
With no fish for her to cook.
I looked at Pa and said with a grin,
“Oh my fingers I will be lickin,”
Cause we’ll go by the Colonel’s house
For some good ole Kentucky Fried Chicken
CULLMAN COUNTY SENIOR MAGAZINE