Budd's Electric Exotic Fish Pond

Reunions in my family consist of passing down stories. This story, Budd's Electric Exotic Fish Pond, which was always a favorite of mine, is the only story to have been written down. I'm sure that someone would get a kick out of it as I always did when I was little. Budd is my great-grandfather's brother. The person who wrote it down was his grandson, Bill. The comments in parentheses are his thoughts.

"The Goodwin family tree is loaded with unusual, unique characters. One of the most remarkable figures is my late grandfather, Budd Albert Goodwin. Budd lived a colorful life, traveling the country and the world, working as a businessman, and serving in the military in World War 1 and 11. Budd drew upon these experiences, sharing exciting and often humorous stories with most anyone who would listen. His story of the Electric Exotic Fish Pond is one of my favorites.

Budd Albert Goodwin worked as an electrical contractor in Adrian, Michigan during the 1920s and ?'30s. Budd's interest in electricity began as a teenager when he landed a job for The Citizens Power and Light Company, today known as Consumers Energy. His responsibilities at this company exposed him to every aspect of electric power generation -- from maintaining the generators that produced the electricity to wiring buildings and homes.

Sometime in the 1920's, regulations were passed limiting the business practices of electric generation companies. These regulations, among other things, prohibited these companies from electrical contracting or wiring of businesses and homes.

Shortly before these regulations became law, the president of The Citizens

Power and Light Company, Mr. Fee, asked to speak with Budd in his office. Mr. Fee liked Budd, and encouraged him to take advantage of these regulations and start his own electrical contracting business. Our grandfather, realizing the business potential, took Mr. Fee's advice and started Budd's Electric Company on Maumee Street in downtown Adrian.

Budd's Electric Company became a success, wiring many buildings and homes in Adrian during this period. His company also sold and repaired electrical appliances from his downtown shop.

One day at his store, a customer entered looking for Budd. The gentleman stated that he lived at a nearby lake. Even though the front of his home overlooked a large body of water, he decided to build a small pond in his front yard. The man explained that he had also installed a toy train and track around the pond. (A toy train circling a pond, what nonsense, this idea was obviously a result of a high fever!) He then proudly explained that the pond was stocked with expensive, exotic fish from South America. (When my grandfather would tell this story, I always wondered if the pond man realized that exotic was relative. I was convinced that the lake in front of the man's home undoubtedly contained exotic and expensive fish one could probably find in South American ponds.)

The gentleman lamented how he found a few of his exotic fish dead every day, half-eaten and scattered around the perimeter of his pond. The man, determined to capture the elusive exotic fish killer, staked out the pond. (Today, people are much more sophisticated, knowing such attacks on fish, cattle, and such are perpetrated by aliens; thus, stakeouts are no longer required.)

A few hours into pond surveillance, the fish-killing beast made his return. With shock the man proclaimed, "it was the neighbor's damn cat!" Profanity employed during this period, from my observations, appears to have been limited to two words: damn and sonsabitches. You would think that, given such a limited selection of such words, people would have just passed on naughty talk altogether.

My grandfather, while finding his story odd, asked the pond man if he could help him, electrically speaking. The man's reply was "yes" and asked Budd whether he could install an electrified fence to keep "the damn neighbor's cat" out of his exotic fish pond. My grandfather perhaps humorously playing along with the gentleman said sure he could handle such a job. Better yet Budd stated he would fashion the electric fence after telephone lines so it blended into his train layout. Well, whether my grandfather was joking or not the man jump right in and said excellent send your crew over as soon as possible your hired.

Later that week his work crew arrived at the gentleman's lakeside home and installed an electrified telephone fence. The Pondman, pleased with the work, happily paid for the installation.

I'm sure as this event regressed in time, Budd and the Electric Company probably wondered, occasionally skeptically shaking their heads, whether the man, the train, his pond, and the fish-killing beast were real or was it all just electricity induced dementia. Unfortunately, the answer to this question came sooner than my grandfather hoped.

"Where's that sonsabitch!" The door to Budd's Electric Company rocked and pivoted on its hinges before halting against the wall with the sound of rattling wood and glass. The exotic Pondman returned and was, as Budd would tell the story, "mad as hell." (The people in my grandfather stories, I should note, were always either mad as hell or happy as hell. This used to make me wonder if he only dealt with manic depressives or was just confused about the state of hell.)

Budd asked the Pondman, once again, "Can I help you sir?" The Pondman replied, "I don't need your kind of help." My grandfather asked what was wrong, perhaps not remembering his earlier encounters with this gentleman. "You killed my fish!", the Pondman yelled. Budd, puzzled, asked the Pondman to slow down and tell him what his problem was, although this question may have been better left to a mental health professional. The Pondman proceeded to tell how the fish-eating beast had returned and had spotted the electrified telephone fence. The creature circled the fence and discovered it encompassed the entire perimeter of the pond. It then sat quietly with its tail thumping up and down. The Pondman first believed the fence worked. "Great!", he thought. "Then, it happened," the Pondman said. "What happened?", Budd asked. Well, apparently the "damn neighbor's cat" crawled under the electrified telephone fence. My grandfather was quick to say that could be fixed. "Let me finish," the Pondman said. He went on to explain that the cat, after crawling under the fence, began its assault on the exotic fish. Budd once again said, "that can be fixed." The man replied, "Let me finish, damn-it!" The Pondman proceeded to say that the cat, while fishing around in the pond with both paws, slapping at fish and water, snagged the electrified telephone fence with its swishing tail. This resulted in a screaming, smoke-billowing cat that quickly erupted into flames. When the commotion ended, the neighbor's cat was dead and so were the exotic fish. Budd, attempting not to laugh, apologized to the Pondman and asked that he pass along his condolences to his neighbor over the loss of the pet.

My grandfather had dozens of such stores that he enjoyed telling. When he grew old and deaf, making conversation difficult, these stories became a way for him to communicate and for us enjoy each other's company."