"Noodlin'! We called it noodlin' boy, and we'd 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, they'd hide in there, too." And Grandpa would start another great story. I loved those late summer afternoons when we'd sit out on the porch before supper. I'd 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 World's Greatest Storyteller!'"