“In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others. He told us about Christ's disciples being fishermen, and we were left to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman.” ― Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories Like Norman Maclean and his family, Andy Hankins was a fly fisherman although he used both wet and dry flies. He also used most anything that modern or primitive man had come up with that might catch fish short of a stick of dynamite. In the nearly 40 years that I fished with Andy I remember us fishing with night crawlers, earthworms, blood worms, dough balls, cheese, pieces of hot dogs, stink bait, the entrails of fish Andy had just gutted, crayfish, shrimp, squid, minnows, and a multitude of lures, spinners, jigs, and jelly worms. While not the purest that Norman Maclean and his minister father were, he was every bit as spiritual in his approach to both fishing and to life. However, given his selection of baits I suppose that Andy might best be considered pantheistic. Andy did not let the worries of the world get in the way of catching fish. Which is why he almost always caught plenty and quite a few big ones. But he never bragged about catching a big one or a fine mess for dinner. He would sing your praises if you caught a big one but didn't call attention to himself. Some of the most peaceful, laugh filled, present in the moment good natured times of my life were spent fishing with Andy Hankins; as he was one of the most peaceful, funny, present in the moment, good natured men I have had the honor to call a friend. I will miss him. My thoughts and prayers are with his family. Michael R. Bridges