Your Father?

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I had an airgun at an early age and still have couple just for fun and to give to my son one day. One summer when I was 9 I went away to boyscout camp and came back telling stories of firing their bolt action .22s. I thought it was so cool, and since I had been talking about nothing but guns since I could speak my dad decided it was time to take me to the range. When we got there he pulled out a little Jennings .25, which at the time fit my hand perfectly. I was so excited, I just smiled through what must have been 200 rounds. After I was done my dad says "its enough with that gun". Still smiling and ready to go home, I see my dad opening up a little fanny pack holster rig and pulling out a Glock 19. Well that was just the biggest gun I had ever seen and although I was scared of the recoil at first I had so much fun with it. Thus began my quest.
 
Oh I tried to make right over the years with the fella that sired me - really did - just didn't pan out. Not too long ago a serious situation with him in hospital (he being 76) and I did the right thing.
This also exposed me to other folks with same last name or kin.
Damn sure not easy, but I did it. Sure did turn some head and get some eyes wide and jaws to drop too.

Grin as you emerge from the smoke; drive folks crazy and they wonder just what the hell you are up to next... - Dave Robecheaux.

--

Now about true friends...
Got a tight knit bunch I hang and do some things with, like some kids and all. They read THR along with me, mom, parents, grandparents ....

Some have had a rough row to hoe - gonna be all right.

Why I am still getting Mentored always will be.
Seems some of the kids feel I need to get my skills to where I can hit a itty bitty black jelly bean , sitting atop a crosstie at a "bazillion yards".
No excuse I am getting older, eyes not what they used to be...the fact I cannot see the bean...

<giggle> "You said we were supposed to learn correct basic stuff with a iron sighted .22 rifle - so show us how. " :p

Seems I "cheated" on this first lesson - they set the jelly bean atop a tin can and said "knock it off".
So I used a shotgun and "knocked it off" - fact I hit the can to do so...

Kids picked up the lesson on "what is said" differs from " what you mean".

Kids run way out yonder - about 80 yard, sets this itty bitty jelly bean on a cross tie and "hit the jelly bean".

I got more practicing to do on this...tried everyone of the kid's guns, from Pink Crickets to a old single shot painted Teal Blue...not even the one with a Pink Floyd "Dark Side of The Moon" sticker on it seems to work...
Seems the kids snicker when they hand me .22 shorts to use " these are cute, try this one..."

Cross tie end is facing me, I can walk the shots in...you would think by now Lady Luck would assist.

My theory is she is laughing too hard and Mentors & Elders that have passed on - won't let her assist me and most likely egging her [Lady Luck] on.

"We know - we need to set it out further - that way you will concentrate harder..."

I hope they give me a hint as to where the cross tie is ( whatever they set this bean on) if they do...:D

Another thing that goes w-a-y back is - "A stick of beef jerky in your pocket - makes one a better shooter". I have passed this on as well.

About that itty bitty jelly bean...

My back pocket keeps getting beef jerky stuffed into it..."he needs more beef jerky!
My back pocket looks like I have a side of beef shoved into it...:p


It ain't just the guns - it is the whole shooting match young 'un - Mentors
 
My father started me shooting and hunting over 50 years ago. He was born way back in the mountains and had returned from from WWII to be a VA State Trooper. His parents gave me my first BB gun and his brother always had a variety of used guns for me to shoot.

My father gave me my first new guns many decades ago, a Savage .22WMR/.410 and a Fox Model B 12 ga., and we traded guns off and on over the years. Twenty years ago I got it in my head that I wanted a .357 revolver and offered him my old Single-Six in trade for one. Well, he took it and put it away for a few years until I came to my senses. I think it cost me a Winchester 72A to get it back. Or maybe it was the Ruger 22/45, I don't remember.

The last gun he gave me was his 28 ga. Guerini Woodlander.

This week he called and said that it was time. Tomorrow morning I've driving over into the Valley and filling out the paperwork for my parents to enter a retirement center nursing home in Harrisonburg. My dad's legs are failing him badly and my mother's Alzheimer's is more than he can handle by himself. It will be his 85th birthday.

I suppose within the next week or so I'll be bringing all of his guns home to keep for him until he no longer needs them.

John
 
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What I'd really like? a plain old dime... just ONE dime... for every .22 and every 50 round box of ammunition my father has given some kid... (not necessarily even family members)...

I keep a couple spare cheapo single shots handy and give them away as needed) because of this...

I'd be a wealthy man, if I had those dimes... I'm already rich with friends because of this...

Old SM has a great point... about finding, buying, and giving away cheap .22's... it's been a part of my life since I gave away my first "spare .22" when I was only about 12, to a kid in the neighborhood who was from a VERY poor family, and who liked being a part of our "Ogemaw Jr. Pistol and Rifle Club", but who couldn't afford his own...
 
My dad went with me to the NRA course, got his LTC (any my FID), and then gave* me an AR and some ammo for Christmas.




*Since I live under a communist regime (MA), it is not "mine", nor am I in possession of or have access to the lower or mags without him there.
 
Dad showed us his gun when I was about 8 years old. Until then I had no idea he had one. It was a Colt Pocket .32 Auto. Even showed us how it worked. We knew not to ever touch it, though. A few years later we were introduced to the pleasures of shooting by my brother-in-law who had a shotgun, a couple .22s and a .38 revolver. Mostly up in the U.P., we would find a suitable hilly place on my Grandfather's property and have a ball, Dad included. I did always wonder why he never brought the Colt, since he seemed to enjoy shooting so much. Turns out, he NEVER shot the Colt. He inherited it from his dad and just never took it to the range. The Colt is now mine. As he developed Alzheimer's disease, he began to change his opinion of guns. I once told him I was going to buy a .357 Magnum revolver and he said, "Don't do it. They're only for killing people." I figured it was the disease talking, as my dad of just a few years earlier probably would have went with me to pick it up. He was the one that bought me my BB gun, (M1 Carbine) pellet gun, (Sheridan 5mm) and my first .22 (Stevens Bolt). He never learned that I bought a .44 mag instead of the .357. He probably would have had a fit. Then again, he might not have even remembered what a gun was.

We lost Dad on New Year's Eve in 1987. He remains to us, the greatest dad in the world.
 
Dad, when he was around, never liked guns much. I tried to teach him to shoot (with CO2), but the barn was safe with him ... :rolleyes:

When I got a little older, he was always happy to have me around --- with guns.

I don't know if I'm a product of rebellion, or what. No one else in my family has the same interest in these things (although my uncle carried a .38 for a while, having been in the gold/jewelry/coin biz).

I think there's a certain mindset. You either get on the train, and ask where you can pay for your ticket; or you're in Warsaw, throwing rocks and boiling water.

Guess you know which turn I've taken ...
 
My dad taught me to shoot when I was probably too young to do so. He never had a lot of guns and they weren't the center of his life but he taught me to respect them. I still have all the guns he owned.
 
My dad's an anti-gun extremist. He doesn't want me or anyone to own any type of gun.

He will not let me go to a range (though my mom's overruling him and taking me in the near future).

He will not discuss the topic with me.

He will not allow me to purchase a second airsoft gun (not even a bb gun).

He will not allow me to visit pro-gun or military or other "unsuitable" sites or indulge in similar media (that's right, I'm not supposed to be here right now).

He has forbade me from getting a career in law enforcement because "we're not going to sink to that level".

If the topic of guns, gun control, or war comes on TV he makes me change the channel and will not discuss the reasoning.

My relationship with my father is not what I'd like it to be. He does not spend time with me, my mom, or my sister. We have never spent any time doing any "father-son" activities.

My father is an active detriment to my interest and the promotion of tolerance for others.
 
We never had any guns in the house, and we lived in the city so there was no place to shoot. I remember when I was about eight though we were in New Mexico and there were some kids shooting a .22 outside our hotel. My father was talking to them and asked to try the rifle. He hit all the tin cans they had set up. That was the only time I saw him fire a gun, except once when we were on a cruise ship and they had trap shooting from the stern. He explained to me that a shotgun could break your shoulder if you didn't mount it properly. He also hit all the targets.

He said once that when he was in the Navy in WWII he had held the base record for shooting the anti-aircraft simulator. But he said he did it because he memorized the simulator tape and knew where the aircraft would appear.

I got interested in college in the pistol team, and then had no interest until just last year when Hurricane Katrina hit, and it woke up my interest in firearms. Now having enough cash to buy a bunch of fun stuff, I really got back into it.
 
I got a Ruger MkII for Christmas when I was 13. My following birthday, I got a Browning BL22 lever-action. My father had owned more guns in the past, but by the time I came around, he only had one: A 1951 Winchester Model 42 .410 shotgun. Dad passed away in 1990, and I have the shotgun. Suffice to say it's not for sale, nor will it be as long as I'm alive.
 
"I will be sending my best. I can empathize with all this, I really really can."

Thank you. I've learned some good lessons from some fine people in my life and a lot of it revolved around guns. Maybe I learned a little slowly sometimes, but that's my fault. My father is still teaching me lessons by the way he approaches life and deals with everyone he meets.

Your posts on passing forward have made an impression on me as well. A bigger one than maybe I realized. Bear with me for a minute while I explain why I won't be getting a new gun this month.

There's been a thread running on rimfirecentral since 8/04 about a group in PA who decided to build a range to teach youngsters to shoot .22s. It's 10 pages so far.

The first post begins: "I'm on a mission from God ... actually, I'm trying to start a smallbore team at our high school. Money's tight (oh really?) and I'm competing with die-hard football/wrestling-leaning-boosters. I think I might have a local sportsmen club that will allow us to build an indoor range on their property (it's a state sanctioned winter sport) if we can fund it ourselves. I took a survey of our students (typical graduating class of 100) and had 70 kids sign up!!!"

www.rimfirecentral.com/forums/showthread.php?t=69761

Early on I sent them $50 to encourage them. Time passed and I finally checked in on them again. Now they have a building up.

RangeBackstop.jpg

I was so impressed by what they've accomplished that I offered to fund the purchuse 2 of the CMP's new Anschutz 1903 rifles for loaners. I sent the check today. It just seemed like the right thing to do.

Now I find out they're trying to raise a bunch of money to send some, or all, of their youngsters to shooting camp. What to do, what to do? Anybody else have a burning desire to help them out?

Maybe I'll offer to match the first $500 donated. I'll think about while I drive tomorrow.

I knew I should have had kids. ;) No sense saving it all to pay the nursing home.

John
 
He didn't talk much...............

His advice on women was excellent, he had one gun I know of: 357 Colt Python, I knew where it was and not to mess with it, my mother bought it for him: she had excellent taste in firearms, he had excellent taste in women. He owned a bar, drove race cars, did high steel construction, he was fearless and never had to mention it, he knew how to PARTY, he loved a good joke, he didn't have time for race: he only looked at the person, he was generous, red blooded and full of strength and you could find a better friend in this world, he turned me onto to poetry, he read a lot, he read Louis Lamour, he could paint on canvas and on bricks and wood, he drank Chivas Regal, he was a classy ba$****, he was a Shriner and a good Masonic brother, he knew Jesus, he was a Union guy and a Democrat, and he smoked cigars, pipes, and lucky strikes, he served in the New York National Guard and was a top kick, if he could see the crap the Democrats call good goverment now he'd puke and if you called him a liberal he punch your eye - in that instance I am glad he is gone, but I miss him a lot and I wish he was here right now. I am but his unworthy son, I only hope I can be as good a man as he was.
 
When I was a child we had 3 guns in the house, a .22 rifle, a 12ga single shot and a .22 Ruger Single Six. I don't recall my Dad ever shooting them except the shotgun at some starlings once in a while. I had the BB gun mania when I was about 8 years old. I finally got one for my Christmas present. Been hooked ever since. My Dad didn't shoot much at all, he taught me how to run a trap line, but he didn't hunt much, taught me how to fish, which we did do together. He always supported me when I was older and started competing in Registered skeet tournaments, and I know he was proud of how well I did, he volunteered at the local shotgun club in the kitchen and counter.

He got into shooting a bit the last few years when I asked him to come along, but was never a 'shooter', but that was alright, because he supported my hobby. I have all but a couple of the guns he has slowly collected over the years in my safe, they will be mine shortly as my brother has no interest in guns at all, nor has my sister and her family.

He is currently fighting a losing battle with cancer at the age of 68, I doubt I will have a year left to enjoy his company and learn from him anymore, try to get in the quality time now.
 
He didn't talk much...............

His advice on women was excellent, he had one gun I know of: 357 Colt Python, I knew where it was and not to mess with it, my mother bought it for him: she had excellent taste in firearms, he had excellent taste in women. He owned a bar, drove race cars, did high steel construction, he was fearless and never had to mention it, he knew how to PARTY, he loved a good joke, he didn't have time for race: he only looked at the person, he was generous, red blooded and full of strength and you could find a better friend in this world, he turned me onto to poetry, he read a lot, he read Louis Lamour, he could paint on canvas and on bricks and wood, he drank Chivas Regal, he was a classy ba$****, he was a Shriner and a good Masonic brother, he knew Jesus, he was a Union guy and a Democrat, and he smoked cigars, pipes, and lucky strikes, he served in the New York National Guard and was a top kick, if he could see the crap the Democrats call good goverment now he'd puke and if you called him a liberal he punch your eye - in that instance I am glad he is gone, but I miss him a lot and I wish he was here right now. I am but his unworthy son, I only hope I can be as good a man as he was.
 
Mom was always so opposed to guns, and dad went along. Still, they finally let us have bb guns when my brother and I were about 11-12.

Later, when I was in the service and about 20 (1971), dad gave me my first gun . . . a used Colt Single Action revolver of some sort, in .32 Long. He said it would be good to have something for defense. I seem to recall it had about a 6" barrel and shot incredibly well. I loved it!

I WISH I KNEW WHAT MODEL IT WAS. Today, I suspect it was a valuable gun. However . . .

About a year later, and concerned about needing a more powerful gun, and one that could be reloaded quicker, I confided in another serviceman that I wished I had a .38 snub. He offered to trade. I COULDN'T BELIEVE IT! Although I was a total novice to guns, I erroneously trusted him . . . and traded that Colt Single Action .32 for . . . an RG-10.:eek: Boy . . . you talk about gettin' screwed and not knowing it!

Years later I really got into guns and shooting sports, and that P.O.S. RG really taught me a great lesson about the value of getting great guns.

MY LAST GUN DAD GAVE ME . . . was his last gun. It was in his back pocket when he stood up at his business, to go home, and suddenly collapsed on the floor with a massive heart attack. After the funeral my brother handed me dad's revolver. "Here, I know dad would have wanted you to end up with this," he said.

IT TOO WAS A COLT . . . A WELL WORN COLT AGENT. In the end, he gave me another Colt to replace the first Colt I'd foolishly traded off . . . and a quality .38 snubbie at that!
 
my dad

My dad was minister and an electrician, we always had guns around dad had a Stevens 67 twelve guage. My oldest brother had same and an old single shot twelve that grandad gave him. Middle brother and myself had H&R 20 gauges. First gun memory was with my grandads Browning Auto-5, don't remember my age but when I pulled the trigger I fell backwards and the last thing I saw was my dads head behind the bead of that Browning. Took many years for me to get past that memory, but dad kept urging and teaching that it was not my fault. MANY years later I have over came that problem! My dad loved me and that was what taught me the most. He supported my time in the military and the years after when I travelled the world "Doing bad things for good people" as he put it. When my middle brother passed away of cancer in 2000, my dad was not far behind(6 weeks) and before he left us he gave me "The only handgun he ever had any use for" it was an old cowboy cap gun in a handmade holster I still prize that one the most. It resides in the case with the 40 some odd real handguns that me and my son enjoy collecting along with an appropriate number of long guns, which reminds me I need to go clean that Browning! Sorry post was so long my first post ever, and a lot of man to tell about!
 
My Dad.

My Dad has always been a hunter more than a shooter, but taught me how to shoot well. Being proficient offhand was important, using a convenient improvised rest was better. Now I'm getting him into handguns.

My Dad taught me that people can change. He left my Mom, me and my sister when I was three. Gone for almost seven years and even his parents didn't know if he was alive or dead. He walked back in one day, hat in hand, begging to be forgiven for the hurt he'd caused by leaving and the years he'd missed by not being there. Mom was forgiving enough to take him back, they've been together again for twenty five years.

My Dad went on a mission to teach me to be the man he should have been. He taught me that the two worst things you can do are telling a lie and not claiming responsibility for your own actions. Anything else I did as a kid was open for discussion and considered a learning experience. Those two things brought the hammer down on me.

My Dad taught me the value of family. He made sure to point out once in a while the things he'd missed by running. Whatever you do, stick by your family. Live with the small mistakes, don't compound them with a big mistake.

My Dad taught me that you have to believe in something bigger than yourself. Living to please only yourself will leave you feeling empty inside. Human beings are made to be part of a larger group of family, friends, community and nation.

My Dad taught me that justice should be tempered with mercy. We all deserve to be punished for things we've done and think we've gotten away with. Nobody is as good a person as they think they are, so don't go judging other people. You're not so hot yourself.

My Dad taught me to never judge a book by the cover. I've met some people through him that will make you reach for your wallet on first meeting. Then you realize they are the most honest, caring and thoughtful people you've met.

My Dad taught me that principle is everything. There are no shades of grey. A choice is either right or wrong. The hard thing of life is that sometimes you must choose something less wrong than another. Realize this and accept it if it backfires.

Dad taught me how to make a handful of T.P. burn long enough to cook a hotdog, skin a catfish, build a fire, put out a grassfire, keep honeybees, drive, fight dirty, sharpen a knife, shoot a bow, work hard and play even harder.

The most important thing my father taught me, through all the ups and downs of his own life and after reflecting on his mistakes and triumphs, was how to be a dad to my own son. For that reason above all others, I love you, Dad.
 
My dad did not want me to have guns. He's on the photo and it might explain why.
 

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My dad passed on last year he tought me to love shooting hunting reloading
started me in the nra junior program at 12 .
hunting deer at 14 .
reloading at 14.
first gun was a remington bolt action .22 still have it still hunt with it
next was a jr sized anachutz target .22 was always to small a stock sister inlaw loves it .
my " pet gun " an ithaca 37 still have it killed a few deer with it
my first hand gun browning buckmark still have it
first reloading tool ideal 310 tool for 300-06 still use it even though i have other reloading tools .
and many more to numerous to mention all thanks to dads teaching :)
 
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