Of the plethora of memories I have from the Pennsylvania State Championship Fishing Tournament, very few have anything to do with fish.

Growing up in Tidioute, the Fishing Tournament was an iconic event that meant different things for different phases in my life.

As a child, the draw of the event was the family-oriented fun. My sisters and I had the opportunity to watch our tiny town transform from normal to a carnival in a matter of days. Even today, I still get nostalgic when I see a merry-go-round and long for the times when I would stand in line and eye up the most beautiful horse.

The parade was also a large experience for us. I remember sitting on the curb and racing into the street to pick up more candy than my sisters. Sticky with the remnants of our loot, we would hear in the distance the roar of the Zem Zem Hornet go-carts coming down the parade route. The sound was a signal to pull our feet up onto the curb so our toes wouldn't get run over while Hornets were doing their road maneuvers.

In my high school years, the Fishing Tournament became a business for my class and other groups in which I was involved. The event at this phase in my life was more about work.

One year, my class members cleaned up the grounds and emptied the trash cans after each night of festivities. The messy job landed us some money for our class account, which a year later aided in paying for a week-long senior trip to Myrtle Beach. The venture taught us all the responsibility and rewards of hard work. For any group or class hoping to make a buck at the Fishing Tournament, hard work had to be a key factor. Like any business, lack of planning or dedication of time resulted in a profit loss.

However, it wasn't all work and no play as a teenager. I, along with my best friends, Jess Johnson and Missy Conte, worked in time to spend together. Whether it be at the funnel cake stand operated by the Tidioute Methodist Church or staking claim to a spot on the bridge to watch fireworks, the three of us looked forward to enjoying the festivities together.

As an adult, the event has become an unofficial reunion weekend. Anyone who has moved away from the area knows Fishing Tournament weekend is a good time to come home because so many other former residents make it home. While in college, the last full weekend in September was set aside to go home and see my high school. The same mindset stretched into my post-collegiate life.

There's something to be said for the longevity of an event that seems so simple but conjures such a vast amount of different memories. To this day, I still enjoy the puzzled look I see when I tell someone, "You should come up for Fishing Tournament ... no, you don't have to fish. Let me tell you about it."