Our last evening at North Knife Lake was spent fishing from shore where the North Knife River spills into the lake. I was fishing upstream of the others when I heard my nephew yell. Though I couldn’t see him due to dense brush, the urgency in his voice was obvious. So was the sound of splashing. Thinking he had fallen in I came running. It turns out the splashing was a big pike on the end of Chris’ line as it wallowed in the shallows. It was a dandy northern for a twelve year old, one of several he caught during our stay. All too soon it was time to board the float plane, the first of a series of plane trips that would take us back to New Jersey.

We managed to have great fun during our Jersey years, Chris, his sister Samantha and my own young ones, Jami and Sam. I’d like to think they looked forward to my ceaseless antics. Come Halloween time, they were often on the alert, waiting for me to appear out of nowhere – a closet, bushes or in a window - wearing a gnarly mask. Being the oldest of the kids in the family, Chris always caught on before the others, laughing as they ran amok, seeking an escape route.   

And what a unique laugh he had – it was a combination chuckle/cackle. Recently my son and I were remembering Chris, recalling those early years when Sam said, “What I wouldn’t give to hear that cackle one more time.”

Chris would have celebrated his forty-first birthday next month. And though I may not hear his cackling laugh, I’ll settle for a few of my favorites from our North Knife Lake photo album - Chris’ early years.

Chris' First Northern Pike

His Big Northern

Time To Head Home

Until We Meet Again........