LJ-MosinFreak-Buck
Member
Well guys and gals, I haven't talked about it much since it happened, but I recieved closure this weekend.
My Grandfather passed away on May 23 of this year. He fought emphazima for the last 9-10 years, and it finally took it's toll. He will be sorely missed by friends and family, and his ashes were buried this past Saturday.
He served in the Navy in the '60's, and was aboard a radar-aircraft during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and often told us Grandkids that he could see some of the missiles out of a cabin window.
In boot camp, he qualified as expert with the M1 Garand (as he told us) and the M1911 pistol.
But he was never much of a gun-guy. As far as I know, he has only owned two firearms in his life, an old 12 gauge bolt shotgun, and an 1898 Danish Krag Jorgensen, which he handed down to my Uncle and Dad respectively. Firearms, to him, were for hunting only. He was never much for having them for anything else. But he understood the importance of practice.
When I was quite a bit younger, I forget the age, my dad gave me my first rifle as a gift. My Marlin Model 80 .22. My dad took me shooting as often as he could, but when he started working for the railroad, he couldn't take me as much. It kinda bummed me out.
My Grandfather had noticed, and surprised me one day when going for a visit, holding my cased rifle and ammo in his hands as we walked in the door. He told me that he was taking me shooting.
I can still remember the width of my smile that day, and the knowledge he imparted on to me during those range visits, even when the emphazima was starting to take a higher toll on him. He wanted to make sure I learned safety, and how to shoot accurately. Under his tutelage was I able to sever a cat-tail from it's stem at 25 yards through my scope, off-hand. Looking back to that day, after that shot, I can't seem to forget that smile.
The very last time I ever went shooting with him was when I was 16, when my dad had purchased some 8x58R ammunition for that old Danish Krag. We all got to shoot it once, starting with Grandpa, Dad, my Uncle, Me, and my brother. There's still ammo for it sitting around, but dad only takes it out on special occasions. But I remember, Grandpa hit his target with no effort, it seemed.
I just wanted to post this so you guys can see who had some of the most profound impact on my--our hobby.
My Grandfather passed away on May 23 of this year. He fought emphazima for the last 9-10 years, and it finally took it's toll. He will be sorely missed by friends and family, and his ashes were buried this past Saturday.
He served in the Navy in the '60's, and was aboard a radar-aircraft during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and often told us Grandkids that he could see some of the missiles out of a cabin window.
In boot camp, he qualified as expert with the M1 Garand (as he told us) and the M1911 pistol.
But he was never much of a gun-guy. As far as I know, he has only owned two firearms in his life, an old 12 gauge bolt shotgun, and an 1898 Danish Krag Jorgensen, which he handed down to my Uncle and Dad respectively. Firearms, to him, were for hunting only. He was never much for having them for anything else. But he understood the importance of practice.
When I was quite a bit younger, I forget the age, my dad gave me my first rifle as a gift. My Marlin Model 80 .22. My dad took me shooting as often as he could, but when he started working for the railroad, he couldn't take me as much. It kinda bummed me out.
My Grandfather had noticed, and surprised me one day when going for a visit, holding my cased rifle and ammo in his hands as we walked in the door. He told me that he was taking me shooting.
I can still remember the width of my smile that day, and the knowledge he imparted on to me during those range visits, even when the emphazima was starting to take a higher toll on him. He wanted to make sure I learned safety, and how to shoot accurately. Under his tutelage was I able to sever a cat-tail from it's stem at 25 yards through my scope, off-hand. Looking back to that day, after that shot, I can't seem to forget that smile.
The very last time I ever went shooting with him was when I was 16, when my dad had purchased some 8x58R ammunition for that old Danish Krag. We all got to shoot it once, starting with Grandpa, Dad, my Uncle, Me, and my brother. There's still ammo for it sitting around, but dad only takes it out on special occasions. But I remember, Grandpa hit his target with no effort, it seemed.
I just wanted to post this so you guys can see who had some of the most profound impact on my--our hobby.
