One afternoon, Professor Martin Hale invited Eliza to speak with students in the agricultural technology program.
She was nervous.
The classroom was filled with young people who understood irrigation calculations and water-management concepts better than she had at their age.
She felt almost embarrassed standing before them in her work clothes.
But Martin smiled.
"You're not here because you know everything."
Eliza laughed.
"That's a relief."
He continued.
"You're here because you learned how to connect careful observation with the right expertise."
She nodded.
Then walked to the front of the room.
Her presentation began with an image of the two galvanized water tanks.
Several students laughed.
Eliza smiled.
"Yes. I really did spend the last money I had releasing fish into a cotton ditch."
More laughter.
Then she showed the photograph of the fish gathering near the upwelling.
The class became quiet.
She explained the reasoning.
The limitations.
And the importance of not confusing an interesting observation with proof.
Then she displayed the old 1953 irrigation map.
The 1998 modification.
And the later technical findings.
For nearly an hour, the students asked questions.
Some concerned water systems.
Others focused on the documents.
One young woman raised her hand.
"What would've happened if the fish hadn't gathered there?"
Eliza considered the question.
Then answered.
"I would've recorded that too."
The student looked surprised.
Eliza continued.
"The point of testing an idea isn't to make it come out the way you want. It's to find out what the evidence actually supports."
Martin smiled.
The young woman nodded.
Then another student asked whether Eliza would recommend using fish to locate hidden leaks.
Eliza shook her head.
"Not as a general method. There are much better professional ways to investigate water movement. The fish happened to reveal something useful in my particular situation, but I had no guarantee they would."
She paused.
"And introducing fish into waterways can raise ecological and regulatory concerns, so it isn't something people should copy casually."
The class listened.
Then Eliza smiled.
"What I'd recommend is learning to recognize when the facts don't match the explanation you've been given."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Martin began applauding.
The students joined him.
Eliza felt her face grow warm.
But for once, she didn't feel embarrassed.
Calvin's grandson visited the Hart farm that winter.
He was fourteen and had recently become interested in agricultural machinery.
Calvin brought him over to see the restored irrigation system.
Eliza was repairing a gate when they arrived.
The boy looked toward the old ditch.
Then asked if this was where his grandfather watched fish discover a hidden pipe.
Calvin groaned.
"Not you too."
Eliza laughed.
"That's the place."
The teenager stared.
"Grandpa says he thought you were crazy."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Does he?"
Calvin shook his head.
"Boy, I told you that in confidence."
Eliza burst out laughing.
Then the teenager asked whether the story was true.
"Mostly," she answered.
He looked disappointed.
"Mostly?"
Eliza smiled.