On the morning of June 25, 1999 my life in some perspective changed. My father and I had decided the night before that the next morning we would head down to the Shenandoah River to go fishing. He was originally going to go by himself. He thought there was no way in Hell that I, his 12-year-old daughter, would wake up at that hour and even consider going fishing. Besides, I would just be a tag along that could not keep up, right? This was not the case and I undoubtedly proved him wrong.
             At about 4:00 a.m., I heard a loud bang on the door. It was my father, he told me to get up and to make sure I wore comfortable clothes and comfortable shoes that could get wet and that I could walk in all day. I immediately sprung out of bed, got dressed and ran downstairs. We packed up the car with fishing rods, tackle, coolers, buckets and things of that nature. Just before we left, he turned to me and said, "Now Jess, if you don't want to go, you don't have to go." I looked right back at him and said, "If I didn't want to go, then I wouldn't be out here right now." Just by the tone of his voice and the hopeless expression on his face, I knew that in a way he had no faith in me and might have wanted to leave me home that morning. Why? I guess I would just be in the way of everything, preventing him from getting the job done. It was okay though; I was fine having that label put on me. I just wanted to be out there, doing what my dad does best. I just wanted to fish. Before we knew it, we were on the road.
             When we arrived, the river was calm and quiet. It was so peaceful and full of Mother Nature's best. The trees were bursting with all different types of green and the flowers were fully blossomed. The birds were singing and the fish were jumping. I was so eager and enthusiastic. I could not wait to feel the warm water around my body and the sun on my face.
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