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If there were a frog gigging tournament series back in the 60s, my dad, Fred Clayton of Red River County, would have been the Bill Dance of the gigging world! I remember vividly standing behind him on a remote pond bank shining that big four cell silver flashlight into the eyes of a hapless bull frog. Dad, with gigging pole in hand, poised like a great blue heron, ever so slowly eased the gig within striking range of what would soon become the centerpiece of some of the best eating in freshwater.