Hosting the Seadrift School this Christmas are pictured (left to right) Debbie Finster, Cathy Epley, and Mariela Torres. Debbie and Mariela are the bank tellers. Cathy is the bank manager. Also pictured is the Seadrift School’s third grade class. Chris Dunn is their teacher.

Separate classes from the Seadrift School came to the bank to sing Christmas songs for audiences of parents, teachers, and well-wishers.

It has been a long-standing tradition for the bank in Seadrift to host the school at Christmas time. Cathy Epley says as long as she’s been working at the bank, starting in the 90’s, they’ve been hosting the children at Christmas.

Cathy had this to say about hosting the students, “These little kids are so precious. The parents love coming up here. The ladies at the bank look forward to seeing all the kids and hearing them sing their Christmas songs. We hope they enjoy it as much as we enjoy hosting them.”

The students were given after their program Christmas bags filled with cookies, candies, pencils, erasers, and a drink… compliments of the gracious ladies at Seadrift’s First National Bank!
-Tanya DeForest

There are approximately 50,000 acres of farmland in Calhoun County, producing mainly cotton, sorghum, and soybeans. Around 75% of the farming industry’s revenue is from sales of meat and feed for the animals that produce it. Sustainable agriculture doesn’t degrade the natural resources needed for future farming. There are 2 million U.S. farms, of which 97% are family owned. Here in Calhoun County, one of these family farms is owned and operated by Kevin Hahn.

Kevin Hahn, Calhoun County Farmer

Since he was a young child, farming has been a way of life that Kevin Hahn knows all too well.. After graduating from A&M in 2008, he spent 10 years in agronomy sales in 5 different states before returning home to the family farm in 2017.

Kevin has had the joy of working alongside his father David growing cotton, corn, and grain sorghum. Farming has many challenges, and every year is a tough one in some way. You never know what is going to happen. Kevin said, “I like new challenges and farming offers a lot of them.”

Farmers such as Kevin do what they do because they love the land. “There is a common misconception that farmers are poor stewards of the land. That would be counterintuitive for a farmer to work against himself by destroying the one resource that there isn’t more of. Farmers are some of the largest conservationists around and the US Food System is the most sustainable in the entire world.”

Every year we face new challenges as farmers, but the biggest hurdle is always the one you don’t see coming. Farming is weather dependent and time sensitive. You must be fluid. You can be proactive, or you can be reactive. Kevin tries to ensure he stays on top of things and plans ahead but says he always feels like he is still behind the eight ball.

Getting to work with his father and taking over the family farm is something Kevin is extremely proud of and looks forward to carrying on its legacy.

Hailey Hayes, County Extension Agent | Agriculture and Natural Resources

When fly-fishing, I often find myself looking for the right environment. This might mean locating a very specific detail, or finding a variety of puzzle pieces that lean toward bottom structure, bait, current, clouds, shadows, wind direction, water depth, water clarity, water temperature, or even pressure.

One thing’s for certain, and that is when I find the right environment, I can feel it – my intuition tells me “it’s” right. My senses tend to perk, conversations tend to focus on the objective at hand, and my angler’s attentiveness confirms the find. This is many times not spoken, but simply observed. The “it” is the environment, and when things come together, you know it. Mother Nature invariably shows her cards.

One morning earlier this month, we found ourselves on an outside shoreline. Needless to say, it was a great day of fly-fishing. The moment the push-pole hit the bay floor, my guest was greeted with two torpedos that were pushing towards us. They were at our 12 o’clock about 75 feet out, and tracking directly for our bow with a happy tempo. The time was now, and we had just started the day. As we continued to pole the shoreline with good sun, good water clarity, and schools of bait working frantically, we just knew that the environment was right for something special.

I had heard bait get crushed on an adjacent pond, so with excitement I poled the skiff over there to give my guest a shot. We watched as a massive black drum buried away in the marsh bottom – we just watched until he disappeared. Taking a minute for a sip of cool water, I stepped off of the polling tower as my guest took a seat. We talked for a few moments like kids in a candy store, thankful to be in the game. It was at that moment that I remember looking up and seeing upwards of 30 tails glistening in the sun as they forked the surface about 150 feet away. I told my guest to get ready, as suddenly it was again time to make ready. I vividly remember polling on one knee from the platform as my guest crouched down on the bow of the skiff, mentally bearing down on the target in order to attempt the perfect cast.

This is what we refer to as our “shot” in fly-fishing. This was our “shot” at a nice school of redfish in extremely shallow water, happily working their way along as they seemed to chain and mingle. Following a beautiful 50 foot cast in front and to the left edge of the school, placing the fly in their sphere of presence, it was only two strips later and we were connected again. We landed the fish smiling and re-living the moment. It was like a chapter in a book that was written just for us.

As we released the beautiful redfish, we looked up only to see another torpedo coming in, and coming in hot! As we just watched in amazement, it was a 4 foot blacktip shark! We both looked at each other and just smiled, as we each knew we couldn’t have made up this story, even if we’d tried!

We had found the right environment, which had absolutely nothing at all to do with the spot. The environment was very much alive as the fishery presented so many signs of life. It has been a lesson in trusting your gut, your senses, and the feelings you have. Sometimes things just click as soon as the push pole hits the bay floor – sometimes it’s another 100 yards down the shoreline. If the signs are there, I’m willing to bet that the fish will be there as well.