One heckuva nice fella^*

^* I recall how Wally would rarely say anything negative about other people, preferring instead to look on their bright side. I remember hearing him say many times, often upon just meeting someone, "he's a heckuva nice fella". That certainly could be said of Wally Becker.

Wally loved airplanes and flying from an early age. He had an uncanny knack for working and living with machines, which combined with his congenial nature to land him his service position as crew chief instructor for B-24 Liberators, stationed in Louisiana during WW II. He enjoyed flying as private pilot, until medically sidelined with his heart condition. Still, he loved to fly along with others whenever he could.

There is something in Slocum's quote which reminds me closely of Wally, and lessons I learned from him. Wally's knowledge of the River, and of his boats and equipment, is what allowed him to ride close to that wild edge of adventure, and always return unscathed. I remember how well Wally's boats, motors, and other equipment were maintained. When he needed his equipment to perform, he could always count on it, and he knew just how far he could push it. Whether it was icing effects on outboard water pumps or the bending limit of the pole he used to push the scratcher back on the ice, Wally knew right where that performance edge was.

I learned from Wally that there was only *one* way to ride through the Black River bottoms: wide open and on top! Oh, and carry lots of shear pins...now why was it that everybody else loses their lower units, but he never did? Something more than luck, to be sure.

Wally was particularly generous in sharing his knowledge and love of the River with children. I remember him often taking kids out in the marsh, the Hackner boys, Jim Blaschke, and others. I remember as a young child feeling very comfortable on marsh outings with him - I sensed my father trusted him highly. However at age 8, the first time he opened up that old 25 Evinrude of his "wide open and on top, over the stumps" I have to admit I held on extra tight! Wally regained my trust by not hitting anything, of course.

I do remember riding with him when he hit a stump and sheared a pin, but only once. Expecting it to be a bit of an ordeal (it was fall and a bit windy), I was amazed to watch him vault over the side in his waders before the boat had hardly slowed down, opening his toolbox as he went over. The tools literally flew in those experienced hands, and I swear we were underway at full speed again in not much more than one minute!!

That really impressed a 12 year old boy!! However, try as I might, with a lot of practice (and I had LOTS of practice changing shear pins that my father probably still doesn't know about!) I could never come remotely close to duplicating Wally's skill.

I learned a lot about trusting others from Wally. I certainly learned to trust his skill and judgement, and that I could count on him to help me out. He was perhaps the first adult I felt that way about outside of my parents. Wally was always interested in what I was doing, especially if it involved something we both had an interest in. I remember that in particular about sailing, where things switched around and I had the expertise, but we both were interested in it.

The Hunter
The hunter crouches in his blind
'Neath camouflage of every kind
And conjures up a quacking noise
To lend allure to his decoys
This grown-up man, with pluck and luck
Is hoping to outwit a duck

--Ogden Nash

  Fisherman's Prayer
God grant that I may
Love to fish until my dying day.
And when it comes to my last cast,
I then most humbly pray:
When in the Lord's safe landing net,
I'm peacefully asleep,
That in his mercy I be judged
As big enough to keep.