The Greatest Storyteller

Noodlin! We called it noodlin boy, and wed drag some whoppers outa them holes...... wade along the creek bank and stick our arms into them holes under water and pretty soon yank out about a thirty-five pound catfish! Hafta watch them water moccasins though, theyd hide in there too.

And Grandpa would start another great story. I loved those late summer afternoons when wed sit out on the porch before supper. Id smell the chicken frying and ask Grandpa a baited question that would start him off on one of his stories; those fabulous stories I loved to hear. Years afterward, people would smile and say to me, That Grandpa of yours was, without a doubt,
The Worlds Greatest Storyteller!

In Memory of Glenn Smith 2004.