When I was a teen we would often go duck hunting in the breaks in the woods behind Mr. Ras' house. On one particular hunting trip the water was up pretty high because of all the rain we had gotten. I don't remember the exact year but I'd guess it was around 1976 or 1977. Anyway the water was at the edge of Mr. Ras' field so we were wading just after we got in the woods. It was already late in the afternoon and we all began to spread out so we'd have a good shot at the wood ducks when they came in that evening. We never gave much thought to the water or what it may bring but my brother Bruce was soon to find out. He leaned up against a tree to wait and little did he know but there was a floating colony of fire ants clinging to the same tree. They must have all waited until one ant signaled the rest and they started stinging Bruce. By the time we got to him he was covered from head to toe. It was awful...we wanted to help but you don't just shake off ants. We brushed as many of them off as we could and he headed for the house. Ms. Hope was a nurse and knew the only way to get them off was to shower...Bruce showered and we couldn't believe how many ants came off and went down the drain..he looked like he had chicken pox...he was lucky he wasn't allergic.