Fondest Memories

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beeenbag

beeenbag

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Thought it might be time on the forum for a lighter, happier thread.

So with that in mind, what is your fondest memory regarding something shooting, hunting or firearm related?

I would have to say, although not exciting or even a story really, but mine is hiding out behind the shed with my grandpa, listening to him tell stories of his youth while we ambushed crows out of the cherry trees. He used an old Marlin model 17 12g.
 
Without going into the full writeup: my dad bought a Stevens 5100 (relabeled the 311 before his birth) double in 16 gauge when he was younger than I am now. He put game on the table every year with it until we moved out of Illinois. It was the only gun he hadn't sold or horse-dealed with.
It spent the last 8 years in a non-air-conditioned storage unit until he got a new apartment. Rusted up like a brick.
I managed to pluck it out of his truck before he tossed it. Got new barrels, reconditioned the receiver, refinished the wood, did the basic maintenance, replaced a few minor parts, and even did some polishing and fit-and-finish.
Presented it back to him, and he said it looked better than it ever had. Never seen him smile for so long.
 
mine is when i was 5 to about 16 may dad worked at a well know gun shop here in ny. almost every day he would come home with a different gun/guns. most times with dies and brass. we would load up some rounds and on the Sunday after going with him to work at the shop. i made good money on tips back then mounting scopes lol. after we go for lunch and go to nicks farm and go shoot some. most times just off the old fence post. then have dinner with nick. rip nick i relay miss him. he was like the grandad i never had.great story beeenbag. wish my grandpa was alive when i was growing up.
 
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Last year I had the chance to go plinking with my Dad and both my girls at the same time:
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Dad with my .410 Enfield, and kid#2 with an old Mossberg Plinkster

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Kid#1 with my Taurus 9mm carbine, #2 using my old Marlin 80E

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Reloading the Plinkster.:)

With everyone's busy lives in 3 different states, we probably won't get to do it again, so that was pretty special.

Another really good memory was when I was, oh, 12 or so, I was REALLY sick- could have died, actually, and in a lot of pain. Just before having surgery, my Dad, knowing I loved Lugers, brought me home one of those Erma .22 clones to cheer me up. It sure did! We shot the snot outta that silly thing (after I recovered) and he still has it. It is a pretty accurate reproduction and compares nicely with my 1917 DWM, lol!
 
Deus Machina said:
Presented it back to him, and he said it looked better than it ever had. Never seen him smile for so long.
Click to expand...

A son a father can be proud of, for certain.



I would like to "like" that picture one more time @LoonWulf. I always see pictures of the shore and the jungle. But this one truly entices me.

Looking down upon clouds from the ground. Very cool.
 
Fondest firearms memory ...

... sitting in the lower field, here at the farm (where Mom grew up), on the side of the ancient long-unused entrance road shooting at targets with my Dad. I was 7 or 8 and Dad had bought a Sears JC Higgins Model 103.181 single shot bolt .22rf bolt rifle and was introducing me to shooting.

I still have that rifle. It is youth-size (very short LOP), so I think that there is a good chance that Dad ordered it specifically for that purpose.

IIRC, we had one 50rd box of cartridges (which may have been Shorts) that we expended on that afternoon so long ago.

It was a Good Day.

Every time I think of that day I smile ... I am smiling now. :)
 
At 5 or 6 years old I shot my first bird, a barn swallow. It was illegal then too but the statute of limitations is long past. The birds at Grandpa's farm all seemed to disappear when I had my BB gun in hand. On this occasion Grandpa gave me some coaching on how to sneak up behind a hay rack, rest the gun on something and squeeze the trigger. As I made my stalk he sat on the porch and gave hand signals. One blind or stupid swallow remained on the wire as I rested the gun and made the shot. That was about 45 years ago.
 
Hi...
Too many memories that are hunting/shooting related to decide which is my fondest.
Maybe being lined up at the end of a corn field with my father and older brother waiting to start our first pheasant hunt when I was 12 years old.
Over 50 years ago now... I am nearly 64 years old now. My Dad and older brother are both long dead now but I can still remember the smell of the picked corn stubble, the color of the October leaves and the sight of that first cock bird busting up out of the corn stubble.

My son is now 24 and doesn't have any children yet so I may never get to take his son hunting with us considering my age and declining health.
My son and I have had some great times hunting and shooting over the years though.
I can only hope that after I die that he will remember those times.
 
The Christmas I turned 10 got a New England firearm single shot 410. Dad taught me how to wing shoot that spring and summer and we headed off to my first dove hunt that fall. Now for yall not from the south opening day off dove season is a big social event with lots of friends and family gathering at the field chosen to shoot and maybe some large tents near by with food and drink. I limited out in the first 30 min. outshooting all the adults with the 12g bird guns by picking shots rather than blasting away. Dad was so proud He walked me around the field showing off my full game bag and the little 410 I had filled it with.
 
My dads side of the family has a weird tradition that has developed recently. Somehow it came to be that the kids present a Ruger 22 pistol to their father. The tradition developed along the lines of 3 my dads uncles and never went out to the other of my grandads brothers. I caught wind of the tradition at a family reunion, and I spread the word to my 3rd and 4th cousins and on father’s day of 2010 a bunch of the guys in the family received variations of the Ruger 22 pistols. The one I found and bought was an original 9 shot. It was used, but nice. 6” tapered barrel. Exactly what Dad had secretly been looking for. It was presented to him in a Nice leather flap holster with mag pouch and big pressed Ruger emblem on the flap. He cried. Then a few hours later the phone went wild with stories from his cousins and uncles about the small tradition from my family that exploded to the whole pile of living kinfolks. I need to impress this tradition onto my wife now that I have younguns at the house.
 
When I was a very young boy (7-8),,,
I had a great aunt & Uncle with no kids of their own.

Every summer my older sister and I would get to visit Banty and Lou at their farm.

Uncle Banty was an immensely huge man,,,
Aunt Lou was a drop dead gorgeous Irish redhead.

Anyways, when Banty would get home from work,,,
He would get a six-pack of canned beer and we would go shooting.

He had a pair of single-shot break-open pistols (probably a pair of Stevens) in a cigar box,,,
We would sit side-by-side on this log in their pasture.

Banty would drink a beer and toss the can out for me to shoot at,,,
I would then try and shoot it out farther and farther.

By the time I couldn't hit it any more,,,
He would have made me a new target to shoot at.

This happened every day I was there,,,
We spent several week-long vacations there for two summers.

Banty and Lou generated some of the fondest memories of my childhood,,,
He taught me how to drive a tractor and Aunt Lou taught my sister how to bake pies.

Aarond

.
 
Too many from which to choose but most involve my sons. Their first pheasant. First deer. First 25 straight. First trap score better than mine. Granddaughter breaking half her birds. All good. Wife winning her class at the Wisconsin Sportsmans black powder trap shoot.
 
In late grade school, I started working part time, and all through my high school years worked one or more part time jobs. After my first year of college going to school full time and working part time, I secured full time employment and worked full time on the second shift and went to school full time during the day. This was in the early 80s, when the big push for 3" shotguns was just getting going strong. That year, bought a pair of 870 Wingmasters, one for me and one for my Dad for Christmas. We both still have them, and it's the last gun I'll give up.
 
My daughters grew up fishing and shooting until their college years. My youngest then went crazy and moved to Philadelphia and I didn't see her for several years. We finally flew her home for Christmas and the first thing that she wanted to eat was venison and the first thing that she wanted to do was shoot. We went to my BIL's farm and shot a case of clays and 4 or 5 boxs of 22lr in rifles and pistols. Then dug out the GP100 and sent 50 rounds through it. That's my girl. I couldn't be more proud.
 
I was turning 8 when I got my first B.B. gun, a Daisy lever action rifle with the B.B. reservoir around the barrel. It was a present from my Grandparents, and it was given a space in the gun cabinet in the living room of the ranch house. I was mighty proud to slide open that glass door and set that gun next to the “real” working rifles and shotguns that called that cabinet home for so many decades before...A model 12, Win 1894, Rem 721, Savage 1920, Win 1890, etc...)

Over the next ten years I must’ve shot three maybe four thousand grasshoppers with that gun, using them for fishing bait (perch, sunfish, etc) in the lake we had on the ranch.

Having 300 acres of Texas hill country As my personal playground every summer is the only experience I can never give my kids... and it’s the only thing I really wish I could do for them.
 
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My oldest friend, a USNA grad, former VA State Trooper, and FBI SSA who taught in Quantico and still shoots competitively at the national level, taught me how to shoot handguns in the early 1990s. I had no bad habits and he was/is an excellent teacher (obviously). I was pleasantly shocked at how well I could shoot after a few range trips.
 
No one in my family liked guns. No idea where I got the bug. Took me forever to talk the parents into a Crosman 760. Finally got one, Brass bolt handle one. Shot it so much the bolt finally broke off and I replaced it with a bent nail.
I shot everything through that gun. Ran out of BB's used anything that would fit in the barrel. Sticks. Rocks, Dirt, Cut off pieces of nail.
Finally wore out the seals and no air pressure. Figured that out. Lady Finger Firecrackers will fit right into the breech and launched a BB pretty far. Mini Brown Bess.
Found the exact same model at a flea market a while back. Yep seals are bad, no air pressure. Nope, not going to use Lady Fingers. I think about dangerous things can be now.:)
 
beeenbag said:
So with that in mind, what is your fondest memory regarding something shooting, hunting or firearm related?
Click to expand...
Not trying to be a wise guy, but that's kinda like asking me which is my favorite child.;)
I guess if I absolutely had to pick my fondest memories involving shooting, hunting or firearms, most would be hunting related - my first deer, my wife's first deer, our daughters first deer and our grandson's first deer, to name a few.
But then there was the hunting trip when my wife's parents (both non-hunters and not anti-gun, but non-gun type people) drove up here from southern California just to be with us on a hunting trip. My father-in-law (John) managed to brush up an absolutely huge 6X7 mule deer buck in front of my wife and me, and my wife shot that deer right behind his left ear. From what we have been told, John carried the picture of himself, my wife and that deer in his wallet for the rest of his life, and he showed it off every time he had a chance.:)
I have a few fond memories involving handgun silhouette (IHMSA) shooting too - like the times when my wife brought home trophies. But we messed that up, and had to quit. My wife and I allowed winning to become such a priority, IHMSA competition became more like work than fun. My wife still has one of her Ruger "Super Silhouette" 44 Mag revolvers though. She doesn't shoot it anymore (arthritis in her wrists put a stop to that) but she keeps it around for sentimental reasons.:)
 
Mine are still occurring. We belong to a gun club in a small town an hour outside the Chicago area. I go often with either friends or my sons. We have a routine where we stop for lunch at a barbecue place that's on the way and then go to the club. Last weekend my oldest son's fiancee, who hasn't shot with us yet, asked if she could come with next time. He'd better hold on to her.
 
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My grandfather wae thr one that got me shooting when I was about 7. My dad wasn't anything about guns, may have been something to do with WW2, but it never came up. My first shots were from a BB gun at an old table saw blade which would ring when it got hit. He later gave me his 16 ga. over under. The only time my dad had anything to say was when he let me buy my first .22 at 14 y.o. He said that if I did something wrong with the gun he would take up to the tub and put it in salt water and give it back. Nice huh?
 
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