My dad owned a single-shot .22 rifle and his WWII 1911. He left that 1911, loaded, on the nightstand, 24/7. We kids knew it was there and never messed with it.
I remember him letting me shoot both the .22 rifle and the 1911, probably one or two rounds of each, on several occasions, probably several years apart. We could sit in the attic and shoot through the back yard into the woods behind. Nothing but a wooded hill back there.
I remember my dad shooting a crow with that .22. We went out and picked it up off the snow, lifeless and bloody.
That gave me an appreciation for how deadly that mere .22 was. A perfect lesson, without a single spoken word.
I remember carrying it back, holding it by its wingtips, and its wingspan was as large as mine. I must have been pretty small, or that crow must have been pretty decent-sized.
I don't remember my brother or sister being invited to observe or participate--I was
the eldest, and in those days that meant something.
He left our family when I was 12, but had sold the 1911 several years prior, to fund a special barbecue/dinner for his parents/my grandparents 50th anniversary. I never figured out what happened to the .22.
In HS, I hung out with a kid whose father had more money than brains, and gave his son access to a .300 Savage rifle and a shotgun, but no training or supervision. We never did anything monumentally stupid, or at least nothing with permanent consequences. Thank God.
I joined the military after high school (1977), and that re-kindled my interest in firearms, although I was sporadic for a while. Had a good friend who won a Rem 870 in a raffle, and he got interested. I learned a lot from him, and got more interested myself. This was early 80s. This same friend got me into handloading about 6-7 years ago. I owe him a lot--a great friend and a good man.
Since then, it's been an ongoing interest, and as my earning power has increased, I have been able to dedicate more time/resources to it. When I moved to a Free State almost ten years ago, I got my CHL and now spend a bit more time/money in firearm-related pursuits. My wife would call that an understatement.