In 1972 my Pop was 65 and fishing at the lake in Pennsylvania where he and my Mom had built a log cabin, named "Tranquillity." It was a quiet and peaceful retreat for them from their New Jersey home and active lives.
Yesterday, when my husband was searching for a red and white "daredevil" lure, he looked to the bottom of the ancient tackle box. The rugged and dilapidated old-fashioned box has remained in a storage shed on the property where we now live, and under a multitude of broken parts and sundry fittings, there he discovered the license. It was in pristine condition, protected all through the years by a deteriorating plastic pin-on holder.
Reminders of the past seem to come forward quite often in our present. I wonder what our past reminder will show up in someone's future.
A non-resident license today costs $52.70!
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