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When I was about six or seven years old I had my first encounter with a striped bass.  My great grandmother, Myrtle Mae was cutting its head off at the kitchen table.   I can still see her pulling the guts out; them flowing onto the news paper. Then promptly scooping them up and running to the garden with them, the whole time smiling.  On her dresser was a picture of my great-great-grandfather John Havens, also known as the fish-man.  He would take his horse drawn wagon to the Port Monmouth Ice House (N.J.), then to the dock which would later become the BELFORD SEAFOOD CO-OP.  There he would meet the boats that had gone out that morning.  He would buy their fish from them, and then go up-and-down the streets of Belford.  Kind of like the ice cream man.  Everyone just called him the fish-man.  Back to the picture.  In it he was holding two striped bass, they looked to be about sixty pounds each.  Since I was a small child, not many days have gone by that I have not thought about that picture.  ( exert pg. 29 Lures & Legends)


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