I've dug out this old email that I received from my brother Mike Kerr.
The post is dated 2nd May 2004.
Here's a little background on Mike...
We both finished skool from The Laidlaw Memorial High School of St. Georges Homes, Ketti, Nilgiris, Tamilnadu in the early 70's. We went to Loyola College, Madras - now Chennai - to do PUC together as I dropped a year after skool & waited for him to catch up
I came out OK. Michael took 3 years to complete his PUC as he funked - in a nicely synchronised sequence - Maths, Physics, Chemistry and so on - at the supplementary exams he took every 6 months of those 3 years.
When he finally put PUC behind him, he joined St. Joseph's North Point, Darjeeling & after trying his hand out in B.Sc. & flunking, then switching over to B.A. and flunking again, he dumped studies and became one of India's best known Forex Brokers while working with Piggot Chapman & Co. where he joined as a Junior Assistant Broker and climbed all the way to the top as Chief Broker.
When the Forex business went belly-up after the RBI reduced brokerage commissions in the late 90's,, he joined NIIT & got himself an MCP Qualification in 6-months flat.
He & his wife - both GreenCard holders - decided to head for the Land of Opportunity and went to the States in 1999. Michael's plan was to tackle the Y2K Bug but as that didn't happen, he & his wife amicably separated & he moved out of the Big Apple into Virginia & worked as a groom on a Horse Farm.
He eventually landed up in Pittsburgh & got a job in a small firm as a Network Administrator. He worked here two-odd years till he was pink-slipped one Friday evening & was relegated to the Dole the next Monday morning.
As part of the Dole he had to attend an Adult Education Program and... started topping the class. Looking at his results & gauging his intelligence, his tutors pointed him in the direction of full-time studies at the University of Pittsburgh at the ripe age of 45 & he took their advice... there's been no looking back since then.
He's won all the awards & scholarships that were on offer; Presidential Award, The Deans List, Pi & Chi, etc. etc. and he's now on his way to becoming a Doctor of Psychology. His second major subject is Environmental Sciences.
So he now lives about a hundred miles south-west of Pittsburgh and drives into town/college whenever he has classes to attend.
He carries a 9mm in his belt and - till about two months ago - wears his hair open. His hair is snow white & it's down to his waist. He's got a collection of 34 guns, rifles & handguns - all calibers & types. His collection of fishing tackle is equally impressive as are his own two riding horses. He enjoys his fishing, hunting & exploring field, lake & stream in the surrounding country.
This is a trout fishing story from just after his maths exam results came in that year...
Mike Kerr's email:
Finally put my old nemesis Math to the sword at school with 99% in the finals...
'After you defeat your enemy, despise him, feel no compassion-- it only weakens your resolve.' Sun Tsu in "The Art Of War."
'-- then go fishin'.' Mike Kerr. :)
So I took a well-deserved break and moseyed on down to the 'crick' over the hill across the valley.
Timed it so I would reach a deep pool by dusk after having fished the riffles, dropping Mallards and Canadas along the way as they got up gank, gank, ganking in front of me – needless to say all left and rights -- using my fishing rod as an imaginary blunderbuss.
Good shooting, considering I was dropping doubles with a single barrel.
Having caught a few snags with a heavy, ancient lure I'd picked up at a flea market, and knowing that there were thick Sycamore roots underwater along the far bank of the pool, I changed to a Rapala Suspending Husky Jerk HJ-6, just as the last rays of the setting sun faded.
I quietly waded in to where the riffle turned into a deep run and cast the plug across to the far side under some overhanging branches.
The first inkling I had that something was about to happen was when a chilwa skipped across the surface screaming -- I swear I could see his tonsils -- he was going so hard that he tail danced across the pool, and only slowed down because he was going to crash into a rock in the shallows on my side!
A shadow had detached itself from among the roots and was charging the lure.
Four and a half pounds of rainbow exploded at the surface, and all 22.1/2 inches cleared the water as the fish tried to throw the hooks -- tail trebles in the lower jaw, front trebles embedded along the left cheek—the little Shimano reel then screamed a paean of joy as the trout headed for white water.
A still frame of the moment has been emblazoned forever in my memory.
Light gear and 4 lb. test line made for an awesome contest.