Fishin’ HoleAs a young boy I grew up on the outskirts of a small farm town in Indiana. Nearby was a small pond where some of my most precious childhood memories were made. In the spring and fall we would fish for catfish with our cane polls and the worms dug out of the ground nearby. In the heat of summer we would swim and jump in it from a swinging rope tied to a nearby tree limb. And in winter it would become an ice rink where we would play hockey and sit by a