I needed turkey tail feathers for fly-tying, and couldnāt find them amid the other packages of feathers, furs, duck wings, deer tails, yarn, tinsel, thread, hooks and all the rest of the tying materials on display. Jack disappeared for a moment, then returned and set before me a big cardboard box brimming with unpackaged turkey tail feathers. At Brookwood and then for the next dozen years or so as manager of the fishing department at Goldstockās Sporting Goods on Freemanās Bridge Road, Jack shared with bewildered newbies and grizzled veterans alike, the wisdom he accumulated in a lifetime of high-level fly-fishing. From his post behind the counter-topped glass cabinet full of fly reels, Jack was the undisputed fly-fishing guru of the Capital Region, chatting with fly addicts about what patterns were taking brown trout on the Delaware River or striped bass along the Massachusetts coast. Last Saturday, just days after stepping down to part-time status at Goldstockās to make more time for teaching and playing music, Jack died suddenly at age 57. It was, in fact, Jack who suggested back in 1997 that I start writing a column on fly-fishing for the Gazette. read more