Patrick Durkin: Fresh fish took direct path to Mom’s heart

I don’t know the secret to creating a hunter, trapper or angler, but a key to failing those goals is a mother who won’t drive her kids to the woods or waters, and cook whatever they bring home.
Fortunately, my mom praised every stringer of perch, bluegills, crappies or bullheads I brought home from Madison’s Lake Mendota during the late 1960s and early 1970s. Mom was more hesitant about squirrels and venison I hauled home, but none of it suffered freezer burns.

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