I received some pictures yesterday from a gentleman who lives along the St. John River even further north than I do. I'll be posting some of his pictures later on today, but for some reason seeing those pictures reminded me of my brother and his fishing expeditions to the St. John River. I had another brother Ron, who would get up early in the summer, pack himself some peanut butter sandwiches and a jug of Kool Aid, and take off for a picnic up on the hills behind our home. Usually by the time the rest of us got up he'd be coming home from his picnic, one content little breakfast picnicker. Paul however would not head for the hills but for water, often times the St. John River, which ran less than a mile from our childhood home. Sooner or later someone would look around and ask, where's Paul, and the search would be on. Being from a large familly made it easy for someone to sneek off unobserved if need be. Once the "Paul's on the loose alarm" had been raised his older siblings, myself included, would be sent out for the search. Along the way people would stop us and ask if we were looking for our kid brother and point us in the right direction, he couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old at the time. Usually one of us would head for Acadia School because from our house that was the quickest access to the river. I can't remember if we ever actually found him along the St. John river, or if we always caught up to him before he got there, but it wasn't from a lack of trying on his part.