The little cabin on the bluff above Big Creek, just east of Kelloggs Bridge, was packed. People were sitting on stools, tables, the floor and armrests. Most stared, blankly, into the occasional flames sputtering in the fireplace.
Outside, the sky was clearing. Only small blotches of white remained under the thickest cedars. The temperature would hit a record for February 26, in the 60s.
Big Jay Gleason opened the door, letting the first robin’s "cheerup" of the season in with him. People turned, looked at Jay then back at nothing. He stood, sort of leaning on the edge of a bureau.
No one spoke.
It was too oppressive for Jay. He walked to the sink, grabbed a glass with a mayfly etched into it from the cupboard and picked a bottle of scotch from the dozen, or so, jugs of hooch on the counter.
His pal Pat Dwyer joined him at the sink, pouring a drink. Then a third joined them. The three walked outside, putting their drinks on the stubby chimney of a crumbling brick grill.
"Where’d you go?" Pat asked.
"To the Werewolf hole, below Mio," Jay answered.
"You missed him, then. You didn’t go far enough," Pat said. "He was around that next big bend downstream, tight into a big rainbow."
"Did he see you?"
"Nope. He had his hands full. He had that fish--it looked at least 24 inches--on his little 7/5 4-weight Summers cane rod."
"Did he land it?"
"Uh uh. I saw him lower the rod and pump slack the first two times it jumped. The third he reared back and let the fish throw the hook. Musta figured he’d kill it if he played it out until he landed it on that light rod."
Jay sorta beamed. "Yeah! That’s our George."
"At least he can fish year around now," the third guy muttered through a hoarse sob.
They picked up their glasses in unison, as though on command, and stared into them, lost suddenly in distant memories.
AuSable fly fishing guide, judge, war hero, conservationist, chef George W. (Heap) Alexander III, 69, died February 23, in an Ann Arbor hospital where he’d been a patient for around five weeks. It was the first time he’d ever spent a night in a hospital. RWOL
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