Column by Hal Walter
Fishing – April 2001 – Colorado Central Magazine
WHEN I WAS a young lad, maybe 8, I watched my mom, single and struggling to make ends meet, take a ballpeen hammer to a glass pig.
Then from this, her actual life savings, she doled out some coins and sent me off on my bike to the store for milk. I left the grocery with the half gallon of milk in a paper sack, rolled the top of the brown bag around the right grip of my handlebars
