Breakfast Club Becomes Tradition

We had another great meeting of The Immaculate Cast Society at breakfast on Sunday. It was the first time WmJ had missed, but that gave us a wonderful opportunity to talk about him. What an interesting subject! We needed someone new since Marvin has yet to attend and we have pretty well worn that subject out. We also got a tour of the new palatial estate being constructed for the Craddock's and we all came home with souvenir mud samples from the site. It is going to be one nice home and we all agreed that it needs to be filled with rustic decor items from the O'Koon shop.

I figure nearly all of the members of our society already subscribe to the newsletters from Unicoi Outfitters and have likely already read this most recent one, but it is so good I felt like posting it here anyway. We all know how special the north Georgia area is and how great the Unicoi gang is as well. Seems they have lost one of their crew and Jimmy Harris does one of the best jobs of eulogizing him I have ever seen. Here it is:


The following is not "shop newsletter" material, but rather some personal thoughts I want to share with you. Jimmy Harris
In this season of love, giving and receiving, I want to ask each and every one of you to take time to reflect on the place each of these words occupy in your life. As we have all heard, there is a season for all things and that is certainly true for these: love, giving, receiving. Our challenge is to make the most of these seasons in our lives and, hopefully, cultivate them to where they become an integral part of who we are. Some of you may be blessed to the point that the mere mention of your name invites images of these traits. Would that we may all be this fortunate.

Yesterday, Saturday the 8th of December, I attended one of the most amazing events of love, giving and receiving that I have ever witnessed. What had begun as a luncheon among friends to express their appreciation to Tom Landreth grew into something no one had expected. Tom was battling cancer again and this time it was back with no regard for the doctors or their treatments. It was doing its best to dim the light that had beamed so brightly over north Georgia trout fishing and the art community. The luncheon had been planned for several weeks and was anticipated with both joyfulness and a heavy sense of melancholy. We all wanted one more opportunity to look into those smiling eyes and tell Tom how much he has meant to us as a friend, as a leader, as a man.

Driving up to Dillard I got a phone call telling me that Tom was too ill to attend the gathering. Okay, I thought, we're going to be there anyway, so we'll do some reminiscing, sign a card for Tom, maybe record a big Rabun "Waa-Hooo!" that can be played back for him at home and collectively send him our prayers. As I pulled into the parking lot in front of the Dillard House banquet room, it became clear that this was going to be more, much more. A steady stream of folks was already pouring into the room and one of the first faces I saw was Tom's brother Walt. With his typical huge grin, Walt greeted me and thanked me for coming. "I wouldn't have missed it" I replied with sincerity. Working my way around the room I heard someone say that June was there along with their daughters. Wow! What strength she has to be here. It must be difficult to look at all the video images on the screens of a healthy Tom. What strength she has, when Charlie's voice cracked as he tried to open the luncheon with a prayer, to announce to the room that this was a celebration of Tom's life. And the strength to gracefully hold the hands and look into the eyes of every person who approached to tell her how much she and Tom are loved.

Over 200 people made the trip to Dillard yesterday to tell Tom how grateful they were that somehow they had been chosen to share some of life's experiences with him. Two hundred people who had in probably two hundred different ways been touched by Tom's loving and giving. Now it was time for Tom to receive. To receive the genuine emotions of gratitude and respect for his life. While there were certainly tears shed throughout the day, it was indeed a celebration of Tom's life and I am blessed to have been there with all the others, each with their own Tom Landreth story.

My own "Tom" story is a simple one of being the recipient of his giving personality. In the mid-70's I had decided I wanted to learn how to flyfish. Living on the banks of the Arkansas River in Russellville, Arkansas at the time afforded me plenty of opportunities to practice my skills on bream, bass and even a catfish one time. With no tutoring other than a book I checked out of the Arkansas Tech University library, I actually became a somewhat decent caster and a terror on the neighborhood bream beads. About 1980 I moved back home to Georgia and began to pursue the wily trout with my flyrod. I must admit, I looked good up on the Chattooga River as I aerialized that fly line and cast only to rising trout. It wasn't that I was being snobbish, I just didn't know that you could catch them with anything but a dry fly. For two seasons (two years!) I kept traveling to the Chattooga and the upper Chattahoochee Rivers to flyfish for trout, and I never hooked a fish. Never! One day I happened to read a small announcement in the Tri-County Advertiser inviting anyone interested in trout fishing to a meeting of Trout Unlimited. A phone number was listed at the end of the announcement so I called to find out more. The phone number belonged to Tom and, like a sinner at confession, I began to tell him of my pitiful attempts to learn how to flyfish for trout. If the thought ever crossed his mind that he was on the phone with a nut, he never let on. In fact, he invited me out to his home without ever having met me. That was my introduction to Rabun TU and a group of folks who took me under their wings and literally taught me how to catch a trout on a flyrod. It was intimidating at first but the desire to learn was so strong within me that my fears took a backseat. I have told Tom's family that he is the reason I am where I am today. Now, he may not have wanted to take credit for that but in my mind it's a fact and I will forever be indebted to him as are so many others.

At 11:57 PM last night (December 8th), Tom Landreth passed away. How ironic is life that it would occur on the same day as our gathering to show him our appreciation. Tom was not there in person but his spirit filled not only that banquet hall but the hearts of everyone in there. It is only fitting that those of us whose lives have been impacted by Tom (and you are one if you trout fish in Georgia regardless of whether you knew him personally or not) will make a more concerted effort to love more and to give more. Reach out to someone else, even if you think they may be a nut, and teach them some of what you know. Help them to see the beauty of our sport and the natural resources we have been blessed with in which to enjoy it. Help them to understand the work that has gone on before them by people like Tom to insure they had this opportunity today and will tomorrow if they'll only take up the torch and move forward with it. Tom Landreth helped set the standard and for that we are grateful. And in his memory we will try to uphold that standard.

Tight Lines, Tom!