It was an October day in 1975. I had just turned 7. We were at my grandfather's little cottage near Warsaw, Kentucky. Dad was shooting some .22, and my grandfather was shooting a Marlin Model 39 lever action .22. I was watching, when Doc (my gradfather) asked if I wanted to give it a try. He explained the rules, worked the lever for me, and (after lowering the hammer to half-cock) handed me the rifle. I remember how heavy the rifle felt. He cocked the hammer, and let me do the rest. Got a beer can at about 10 yards with my first shot. I was hooked.
P.S. - That rifle is now in my possession, a gift from my grandfather when I got my Eagle Scout. It is among my most prized possessions.