The 12,497,818th Example of Small Town America

Since before I was born the First Methodist in my hometown has a June fish fry fundraiser.  I can remember fondly eating fried catfish fingers after a long day of playing softball at our local Legion park.  A big plate of fish, coleslaw, and homemade hushpuppies would be sat in front of you.  Pitchers of sweet tea and little bowls of pickles were out on the table and after you ate your fill you had a choice of pound cakes made by the ladies auxiliary.

I haven’t been to the fish fry in at least ten years and honestly didn’t even think they still had it until I drove by the church yesterday and saw the sign announcing the fundraiser.

C. and I just got back and I can honestly say it was as good as I remember it.  Maybe better.  We’re debating whether or not to go back tonight for dinner!

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