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My facination (hope I spelled that properly) with guns began with a video game known as Goldeneye 64, and then once my dad got a CHL, and purchased a pistol (Walther PPK/S), I was attracted to guns like a fly to a fly magnet (if such thing does exist). First thing I do when I turn 21 will be to buy myself a nice hand gun.
my dad, very thankful to him for that, and boy could he shoot, I saw him make some amazing pistol shots at rabbits where we used to hunt in the san jaun islands. It wasn't until awhile later that I found out people used shotguns for pheasants and rabbits, he taught me to make headshots with 22 rifles....tom
I guess it was the gun rags in the local barbar shop that my mother took me to as a kid. Some real good gun writers then. It sparked a kids imagination of African safaris, Big game & the guns that hunted them. Knowing the magazines were there took the some of the dread out of going to get a haircut
Must've been Dad. We were a trap and skeet family (I was a casual but decent trapshooter; my brother, the overachiever, was Jr. skeet champeen many times over). And my uncle, whose 9-shot .22 pistol and pump .22 rifle were just sweetness incarnate.
My parents, who bought me a Crosman 760 (that I still have). Then a friend in high school, who shot with his dad competitively. And in the past few years my wife, who wanted to become proficient and comfortable with handguns.
Now, I want to learn sporting clays, trap, and skeet.
Grew up when firearms just a part of everyday life. Parents were country folks talked of hunting. down on the farm(s).
I went to NG drill with dad and the Gunny said I could hang out with him while dad did his bit. I knew the 4 rules, I must have been 2nd grade. I wanted to shoot that 1911 my dad's group just finshed with. Gunny picked my brain, figured I was safe, and I shot a Singer Gov't 45. I shot a lot that morning...the feeling never left...memory never fades.
I too am Sicilian 100%.....4 generations in NYC...I will e-mail you a symbol of sicily that I have if you like ...it is called the TRINACRIA and I am planning on having it engraved on a set of Alumagrips http://www.alumagrips.com/ for my 1911!
My Uncle Bill got me into guns. My father was actually delighted when his sons took up the sport as he use to be an avid plinker. He hid this from us for years until we wanted guns ourselves. Then the entire family would go shooting.
Returning to my Uncle Bill, I later repaid him when I bought him his first blackpowder rifle for Christmas.
My dad bought me a bb gun when I was about 9 or 10, I don't remember that well. But when we moved out into sorta the country, all the other boys had .410 shotguns, JC Higgins .22s, I think some were bolt action single shots, others were tube-magazined semis. I would go shooting with them. My first time at pistol shooting was a friend's dad's Walther P-38. We use to shoot all the time with never an accident or mishap.
my dad got me started, by getting me involved a a junior rifle team. How deep does it go? I design guns all day for a living, and then spend all ight, and most of my weekends fiddling, practicing, competeing or reading about them.
Huh, i think i just figured out why i don't have a gf.
My Grandfather had a rifle (I think his brother, who was in WWII gave it to him; I don't recall exactly what type it was other than it was a bolt action, may have been Italian, and had a long thin bayonet attached) which he kept in a hallway closet; he also had a cheap revolver which he kept in his dresser. As far as I know, he never fired either of them. I was always very impressed as a child when he would let me see or handle them.
For some reason I always gravitated toward stories of war , cowboys, law and order- I think I liked stories having clear cut good guys and bad guys. Of course that also meant being interested in the tools of the trade.
No one. I did it all on my own. No adult males around when I grew up. The summer I turned 13, I saved my money from "walking beans" and bought myself a Remington 514. Cost me $28, IIRC.
Dad had a revolver around the house as home protection but never really went out to the range. Whenever an uncle came to town he'd occasionally get my dad out to the range.
When I became older the uncle started taking me out to the range.
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