How I Became Interested in Firearms

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TarDevil

TarDevil

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Airplanes. Really.
I don't fly anymore but in an earlier life aviation consumed me. Had a company plane and during time off I stole seats in all kinds of homebuilts, military stuff and ragwings.

I had shot occasionally with friends and knew the bare basics but bullet type, velocities, expansion, etc was all greek. Then one day my gun enthusiast friend, who also flew, switched my light bulb... bullets (especially expanding ones) were like airplanes. They had a minimum and maximum speed of effectiveness, and other such aerodynamic similarities. Piqued my interest enough to start studying rifle cartridges and bullet design. That led to an interest in rifling, then powders. All my interest in cartridges and bullets eventually led to an interest in which guns matched well with those projectiles. I acquired my first rifle, a Ruger 77 chambered in .257 Roberts. So on and so on.

So similarities to airplanes got me started. If your firearm interests spawned from something other than a gun tradition family, what got you started?
 
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Lots of kids in the 1950's were like me....... Dad was a WWII vet who'd hunted before and after the war...... Then got married, had kids, bought a house, etc. and hunting sort of fell by the wayside for economic and time management priorities. But we all heard the hunting stories as we were growing up. That might have had a lot to do with it. Along with cap guns, squirt guns, dart guns, BB guns, etc. that were so prevalent back then. Plus the writers like Jack O'Connor that were featured in the outdoor magazines of that era who wrote not only about hunting but all about the firearms and cartridges that they used and why they chose them. Growing up around lots of pheasants (and pheasant hunters) also made lasting impressions on a lot of young minds. There really wasn't what anyone considered a "gun culture" back then. It was more of an American tradition that most folks enjoyed.
 
TarDevil

I seem to recall in my younger days I was very much attracted to cars, planes, and guns (my fascination with girls came a bit later when I could actually afford to go out with them on a date). Since I was too young to own any of the aforementioned objects I had to make do with toy cars, planes, and guns along with seeing them in magazines, books, and movies. Eventually I narrowed it down to one interest in particular: guns, and that's pretty much where it has been (in what I like to think of as my "free time"). From toy guns, to replica models, to the real thing, I have enjoyed my "hobby" for a great many years now and still have a keen passion for not only shooting, collecting, and hunting but also for sharing my knowledge, experiences, and recollections with others here on THR.
 
So, what rate of spin is optimal for a Stinson? ;) Yes I had a fascination with aviation, still do. I liked eggbeaters more, though. Even got to pilot a Huey (UH1N) dustoff bird for all of 30 seconds. Ballistics and helicopters are an oxymoron, but I can see where you're coming from. My dad was a cop and a hunter, so yes, I came from a 'gun culture' family. (You make it sound like that's a bad thing...)
 
John Wayne movies of course. Both westerns and war movies. What kid in the 1970s didn't want to be The Duke?
Of course my Dad had guns around too so that probably helped.
 
I became interested in firearms because I never knew when I would need one.
My father was a walking trouble magnet who moved us constantly. For example, we went from Gadsden, Alabama to Chicago, Illinois, then Santa Maria, Downey, Norwalk, South Gate, and Compton, California, then on to three places in Grants Pass, Oregon, three other places in Merlin, Oregon, and two places in Murphy, Oregon - all before I turned 5. And that was just the start.
A non-conformist, he hated to know what he would be doing come the morning. An ex-Marine who managed to get a bad-conduct discharge, he couldn't have firearms in his household (AFAIK).
So, over and over I would find myself in a position where a gun of some sort would be very desirable for defense, feeding the family, or just to have in reserve. I managed to get guns by trading, scavenging and salvaging, a few as gifts, and eventually by purchasing. Whenever my father found out about a gun then it was gone - and he could get his cigarettes.
All things considered, I only had to use a gun seriously a few times. When I really needed one, though, I usually had one.
I may have gone a bit overboard in my collecting in the years since Dad's passing but at least I don't feel unarmed and unable to protect me and mine.
 
My grandparents on all 4 sides grew up relatively poor. Never once did they let us forget how blessed we are. When I was about 5 I asked my paternal grandmother why she grew such a big garden (1/4 acre) and she said that she did it because that’s how she ate as a kid which led to conversations about her being the youngest of several, and the only girl at home since her older sister left home before grandma could remember. Those vegetables in the 30s were either eaten or traded for 22lr ammunition and fishing gear. Grandma would carry her rifle to school and shoot dinner on the way home in the afternoon. Times were tough, all of her brothers worked in town to pay bills and buy things that were needed. Grandma raised the garden, shot dinner, and ran trot lines and trap lines. She claimed to have eaten everything on the planet aside from polecat and rattlesnake. Her rifle is in my safe. Her husbands deer rifle is in my safe along with his 20ga. My maternal grandpa had a similar story to grandmas, his rifle which was given to him in 1930 by his grandfather is in my safe. Family history is all over these treasured guns. That got me going, and it hasn’t stopped.
 
My Dad always had guns in the house. He gave me my first .22 when I was 9 years old, I still have it 68 years later. My Uncles all hunted with the family, everybody had guns. Guns have always been a way of life in my family. I hunt with my Son and Grandsons.... the cycle continues.

Here is that .22 single shot rifle from my youth. I had it professionally bead blasted and reblued a few years ago. I refinished the stock.

DSC02204_zps3ec8f830.jpg
 
While firearms was always a part of my upbringing, my father only owned long guns for most of my life.
He loved to hunt dove and deer and so we had a couple shotguns, a .22 lr or two, and a couple hunting rifles. He loved to target shoot as well, but we never could afford for him to have a very extensive collection. He had the basics.

He also loved to read Western novels and so, I began reading them too. I started reading Louis L'amour books when I was 12 or so, and shortly after I started reading an author named J.T. Edson. Edson really went into a lot of detail as far as the arms that were used by the characters, and that made me more interested in old west firearms.

I have now acquired a love for single action revolvers and when it was time to buy my first, there was no doubt it was going to be a .45 Colt. I still love the old west firearms, revolvers in particular, and reading old Westerns is what started it.
 
theotherwaldo said:
I became interested in firearms because I never knew when I would need one.
My father was a walking trouble magnet who moved us constantly. For example, we went from Gadsden, Alabama to Chicago, Illinois, then Santa Maria, Downey, Norwalk, South Gate, and Compton, California, then on to three places in Grants Pass, Oregon, three other places in Merlin, Oregon, and two places in Murphy, Oregon - all before I turned 5. And that was just the start.
A non-conformist, he hated to know what he would be doing come the morning. An ex-Marine who managed to get a bad-conduct discharge, he couldn't have firearms in his household (AFAIK).
So, over and over I would find myself in a position where a gun of some sort would be very desirable for defense, feeding the family, or just to have in reserve. I managed to get guns by trading, scavenging and salvaging, a few as gifts, and eventually by purchasing. Whenever my father found out about a gun then it was gone - and he could get his cigarettes.
All things considered, I only had to use a gun seriously a few times. When I really needed one, though, I usually had one.
I may have gone a bit overboard in my collecting in the years since Dad's passing but at least I don't feel unarmed and unable to protect me and mine.
Click to expand...
Wow! Would love for you to have traded stories with my dad. Move 17 times during his high school years. Alcoholic father. Died when my dad was in his late teens. Dad promised me the .22LR he got from his father, but renigged and gave it to my younger brother instead.
 
My grandfather had an FFL. I remember going to his house for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I was allowed to shoot pellet guns in his indoor range as long as each shot was in the black. He died when I was 5. After that my dad and 2 of my older brothers let me shoot each Sunday after church. We were poor because my Dad always bid jobs to help people. This was one of the only things I remember doing regularly with my Dad besides working. Now I always use shooting or reloading as a way to unwind.
 
I joined the volunteer fire department in my area at 15 years old, thanks to a program they had allowing high-schoolers from that age to train and learn the profession. I had been inspired earlier by watching re-runs of "Emergency!" on weekday afternoons. Growing up in an abusive environment dominated by a single, alcoholic parent can steer a kid in one of two directions: down that same road, or into wanting to go the opposite way and make a difference while re-building self-respect. I went for the latter.

Spending time working scenes got me to thinking more about law enforcement; those guys got to go out and look for people needing help instead of waiting to be called out. That's how I saw it, and my desires changed. We didn't have a Police Explorer Post in the area (I hadn't even heard of them), so it was some time before I could actually take the oath. During that time, I became interested in firearms as a part of the job I so desired. I signed up to join the Army after graduation to kill that time as a MP, but an injury sustained between my sign-up and report dates sent me home when I showed up with my duffel.

My mother had re-married by that time, and her husband (my second stepfather) had two rifles stowed away. After my 18th birthday, with me unexpectedly home from the Army, my mother, who had always been more-or-less anti-gun (more gun-shy than downright opposed) let me buy the .22LR one from him, and it started there.

I was still living at home three years later when I was sworn in on the job, and she had long since gone dry and mellowed out. My stepfather, unfortunately, had died before then, though.
 
Dad found some creative ways to dispose of my guns, some of which bothered me more than others. For example, I inherited a Remington Model 11 shotgun from my mother's foster father. Dad immediately traded it for a 14 foot 1954 Shasta travel trailer (without a title) before I even got the gun home. He tried to claim the trailer, but it became my home for over a decade.
Losing grandpa's gun bothered me, although I knew that he had never used it. It's the principle of the thing.
Having a place of my own proved to be far more important.
-And I finally found another Model 11. I keep it in memory of grandpa Tony.
 
Father was a career military officer. Served in three wars and retired in 1971. Always had his service 1911 and an extra magazine in his footlocker. No long guns in the house that I can remember until I bought (with his help) a .22 Glenfield autoloader when I was 11. No matter where we lived he always made sure of two things. We went to church with my mother on Sunday, or any other day she decided to go, and starting at about 10 years old my two brothers and I were enrolled in any civilian marksmanship program or local shooting club.
Like many of us here firearms were a natural progression. Toy guns to BB/Pellet guns to .22 rifles and shotguns. Having a father in the military had it's perks when I played army in the neighborhood. I always had real Army gear. Web belt, canteen, ammo pouches and uniform top. I remember when my father gave me a camo poncho. I thought it didn't get any better than that. I roamed the central Texas Hill country, carrying a rifle or shotgun, with that poncho on or on my belt until it finally wore out when I was about 30. Dad wasn't a hunter but I developed the bug when I was young.
Going into the Army was just something I knew was always going to be so at 18 I enlisted and for 9 years I got to shoot everything in the Army arsenal from .50 cal on down and a 105 and a M40 Recoilless Rifle a few times.
After leaving the military it was a few years before I could afford anything but a shotgun, rifle and pistol. 35 years of working in the same field changed all that. Now as a retired senior citizen I buy what I like (within reason) and trade and sell as I feel the urge.:cool:
 
My Dad, and even grandparents, were never into hunting or guns. Some of my uncles hunted a little bit, but I didnt hang around them much. Guns are certainly not something I grew up with.

One day, in my mid twenties I suppose, I was in a pawn shop looking for some home stereo equipment. This particular store happened to have a small selection of handguns. They caught my eye and I kinda glanced through the case, not really thinking much of anything about them, just looking. I wasnt even sure if a regular everyday guy like was even allowed to own such an item.

Anyhow, my wife (GF at the time) walked over to see what I was looking at. I was just kind like "oh nothing" and was about to continue on through the store when she asked me, "why don't you have one of those?" And then I thought to myself, "that's a good question, WHY don't I have one of those?"

Well that sparked my interest and I began doing research on what it takes to be a responsible gun owner. Both legally as well as from a safety standpoint. Within a few weeks I had my very first 9mm handgun!

A number of years later now and things have evolved into rifles and shotguns, reloading and carry permits, and even a small bit of hunting. But that little pawn shop is where it all began. Reloading is probably my primary interest nowadays.
 
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TarDevil, I can relate. I've been crazy about airplanes from early grade school. Guns for nearly as long. My dad grew up on a farm, served in WWII and was a good man, but he was not fond of guns. It created a bit of a stink when my Mom got me a single shot .22 rifle for Christmas when I was about 10, IIRC. In the fullness of time, I got commercial, multi-engine and instrument ratings. We were partners in our own plane for a while. I spent most of my adult working life in LE and was at various times a firearms instructor and armorer. Along the way, I managed time to pursue my other passions, girls and cars;) Anyway, airplanes and guns seems a pretty natural thing to me.
 
After I retired I was doing nothing,so I bought me a computer and had to teach myself how to use it. After about two years of retirement I came across a gun forum.I started reading about handguns and decided to to started me a collection of handguns,twenty was my limit.I am well north of twenty handguns and shotguns I do own one rifle. I retired in 09 and started buying firearms in 11,that's how I got into firearms.
 
Dad was a share cropper and I was the last born of his 4 sons. Guns were used to put meat on the table, and to earn money by collecting the Jack Rabbit bounty . My two oldest brothers started me shooting by loading up a magnum shell in a 12ga when I was 7 years old. One caught the gun and one caught me as I pulled the trigger. When I was ten I received a single shot .22 rifle my dad had purchased for $8 . It put a fair amount of rabbits and squirrels on the supper table. There was a gas station that would sell me .22 ammo by the round when I couldn't afford a full box. They charged 1cent ea.
 
My grandpa had me hold his '03 Springfield up against the tire of his Bronco and blast off 5 rounds of 30-06 when I was about 5 or so. I knocked around some firewood chunks ( about 50 feet maybe LOL!!) we were stacking in the truck and he had taken the time to pace off 150 yards with a couple pices of wood for targets verifyed the rifles sights..... Thats when play guns were worthless, I had felt ''The Power'' and craved it ever since.
That and my interest for gun mechanisms, the workings of clocks, fixing pocket watches, Building and rebuilding gas and diesel engines , Camping and hunting have given me avenue to pursue my interests.
 
CZ9shooter writes:

Anyhow, my wife (GF at the time) walked over to see what I was looking at. I was just kind like "oh nothing" and was about to continue on through the store when she asked me, "why don't you have one of those?" And then I thought to myself, "that's a good question, WHY don't I have one of those?"
Click to expand...

Sounds like you did right by marrying that gal.. ;)
 
I have always had an interest in guns, tanks, warships, aircraft and generally things military. I went away to University and after graduating was working full time and never really had time for much. We moved north and in a new town, looking for something new to do, I took up competition .22 target rifle shooting for a little while at a local club (with some success) but then two young kids and a very time heavy job meant that I never really had the time or the money to buy my own rifle. Fast forward about 20 years and my father in law passed away and left me his collection, a .22, some BP rifles and a couple of pistols and a Winchester 94 AE in .45LC. Ten years on this collection has grown a bit but there never seems to be enough hours in the week! :)
 
My Grandpa bought me an Iver Johnson Champion 16 ga shot gun when I was about five. He bought it from a guy at a poker game for 20.00. He says he didn't even look at it. A guy down on his luck asked if anyone wanted to buy a shotgun for a 20. Grandpa asked if it worked and the man replied yes do you want to see It? Nope I figure any shotgun that shoots is worth 20 dollars. I still have it 30 plus years later. Shot so many jack rabbits with that gun it no longer stays cocked.

He also apologized to my mother that he wanted to teach me about firearms. Never knew that I'd go crazy for'em. We won't even get into the motorcycles.
 
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