Strange things happen to people who write newspaper columns. Thank goodness, most are good. Here are examples:

Last July I wrote about the late Al Olson, a beloved Whitefish high school teacher, who sang at Iris' and my wedding. Related how Al looked with suspicion upon fisherman who used anything except flies. After years of friendship, to my deep humiliation, he caught me red handed - using a spinner on a trip to Hidden Lake.

Late in September I got a phone call from a man who said his name was Walt Johnson, in Flagstaff, Ariz. Walt is a volunteer with a national organization called "Warriors and Quiet Waters" which arranges fly fishing trips for wounded American veterans. It is supported by many people and they have done trips to our area. Couldn't help wondering why Walt was calling me?

He hand crafts embossed leather flybooks for anglers to carry their assortment of artificial lures. I've used similar do-dads for years, except I just called them "fly boxes", nothin' fancy, usually aluminum; however Walt's are a work of art, intricate designs, zipper closure, and room for dozens of flies. On the spin of each is engraved the name of that model, such as "Peace Surplus Day Planner," or "Warriors and Quiet Waters Day Planner." They vary in size. One he sent me is 4 -by -6 inches and contained one well-tied grizzly Wulf.

Turns out, Walt read the column about Al Olson catching me catching a trout with "no-no hardware," and wanted my permission to manufacture an "Ostrom Day Planner." He's probably making one as you read this column. What's different about this new model? It has a special pocket for concealing a spinner.

The August 28th column dealt with my memories of a teenage Chinese girl smuggled into Idaho as a concubine for a Tong leader at the Elk City gold fields. Remember? A young white man won her in a poker game and they spent their lives together on a homestead in the remote Salmon River Wilderness. My recollection was the young man was a Norsky but I couldn't remember any names. Called her "Annie."

An alert reader, Sandy Williams, called me and said the girl's married name was Polly Bemis. So it appears the youth may not have been a Norsky in spite of what I was told down on the Salmon in 1950.

Sandy and her husband, Mark, worked several years at an isolated big game and fishing outfitters on the Salmon River at Macky Bar. Said Polly lived awhile after her husband died. She didn't know if a book had ever been written about Polly Bemis but did remember seeing a movie years ago about her. Sandy's trying to get more info, and a friend of hers is also trying to get more facts.

My oldest Grandson, Parker Duncan, just celebrated his birthday. It was a unique event due to the fact he was born on November eleventh 1990; therefore, he became 21 at 11/11/11/11. That's right! He really was born at 11 o'clock.

Another Veterans Day had come and gone. Read a newspaper interview with a decorated man who served two combat tours in Vietnam. He said, "Don't' celebrate Veterans Day because it happens to be Veterans Day. Veterans Day to me is every day." I've written similar thoughts in this column.

The best way to honor veterans and our country is to be a supporter of America and our flag ... each and every day.

G. George Ostrom is a national award-winning Hungry Horse News columnist. He lives in Kalispell.