The summer I went to work at Lost Prairie I found Mac, of all places, on the porch of the bar. The conversation quickly turned to fishing and I asked him if he would teach me to fly fish – lucky for me the old man agreed. We went out to his usual local fishing spots a few times a week - Mac checked his laughter while I untied knots in my line and learned to cast. Most fishing days ended with a stop by the Resort or the Tramp for a beer, a cigar, and some good conversation. By the end of the summer I had a decent cast and a friend for life. Through the years Mac taught me more than fishing. Through the way he lived here are a few things he showed me: Drink beer at the end of every fishing trip, but not during. You spend too much time pissing. Aging sucks, but don’t let it slow you down. Laugh about yourself, your friends, life… everything. ‘Never say Whoa in a horse race’ – drinking is a competition sport. Old, rotten skydiving gear with loose risers and a round reserve works. Have a dog. Don’t get involved in local squabbles. Make a decision and then move on. When he says “pull over I have to piss” that mean start applying breaks now. Take a young skydiver up for a jump. Be devoted to and love your family without fail. After a night in the bar, always go home with two five-dollar bills in your shirt pocket. A well told story is worth telling twice… and then some. Brag on your friends and give loud compliments. Let your friends brag about you; be humble about yourself. Never, ever pass out at the bar. Make new skydivers feel special. There’s nothing better than a group of friends hanging out at the bar in Lost Prairie. Mac was more than a friend – he was an example of how to live a big, full life. I will drink better beer on my fishing trips now, but I will never find a better fishing partner. You are an icon of the prairie, my friend, and I’ll miss you. My thoughts and prayers are with Steph and CJ. -ken )'(
