longrange308
Member
- Joined
- Jun 14, 2012
- Messages
- 76
Perhaps, one of the greatest days in my life took place one Christmas morning when I was seven years old. I was living in Chase, Maryland where my father worked at nearby Bethlehem Steel. I, had stayed awake all night waiting to open my presents of which I prayed one would be my first gun, I didn't know what kind of gun I just knew I wanted one. My father was the kind of man that you mention something to him once and you didn't bother him about it again or you would ruin it for yourself even at Christmas time. Well, I had apparently fell asleep around 5:30 am while waiting for the hopeful big moment. Suddenly, I awoke and my room is fully lit by the sun, I quickly look at my G.I. Joe clock and realize how late it is. Quickly, I explode out of my bed, race down the hallway to the scream of my mother, "slow down"! Then, I heard a deep gravely voice say, "leave the boy alone," I continued to race past the lovely paneled walls into the family room and almost into the glimmering tree. Quickly, my eye's darted toward my fathers red leather chair, there he was with the biggest smile I ever saw him have. In his hand, pointing toward the ceiling, was a wood stocked blued gun. I froze, he said, "come here son," I don't remember walking I think I must have floated across the floor where my father handed me a Stevens single barrel 20 gauge shotgun. Yes, I was king of the world that day. That day remains in my mind like it just happened, I'll never forget it, it was my first.