BY MARK HUME originally appearing in A River Never Sleeps
There’s no mistaking the lineage as Jack Hemingway comes striding up the river bank with a big trout tied around his waist, the blood of the catch staining his waders.
He looks for a moment if not like his famous father, Ernest Hemingway, then at least like one of the characters from his father’s stories. Nick, maybe, from Big Two-Hearted River, a man who loved wild places and wild fish.
“Thought it was a steelhead,” Jack says, untying the cloth rod case he’s used as a sash, to secure the fish, so that his hands would be free to continue casting. Continue reading →