Missing You
January 4th, 2009 by Syd
Another hit from Brigid:
Most of us remember our first love, but what about our first gun? I shot my first gun when I was just shy of 12. My parents were smart. Even out in the country, drugs were starting to pop up, and an occasional rural kids would get into grown up trouble early. Those of you with teenagers know what I am talking about. It’s hard being a young adult, the light weight of the few years you have seen are heavy enough to prevent you from taking off and flying free of a world that to you seemed too rigid and too ordered. But not weighty enough to keep your feet truly grounded in a life of solid choice and experienced judgment.
So, to give us something to learn and grow with, my parents gave us a gun. And taught us to use it. I remember that first gun. It was a single action "garden gun", one that found its way under many a Christmas tree in my generation. I held it, wood smooth under my hand, the sun at the quarry where we would shoot it shining off of the barrel. When I touched it, I felt an excitement of joy and promise whose reason I could not put into words at that age, being too young to articulate that. I felt responsible. Yes. Responsible. For something that cost most than many months allowance would ever replace. Responsible for the trust my parents put in me in handing over the legacy of guns in our house. Responsible for myself, my brothers. To use it properly…
I was givin my first gun at the age of 13. It was my fathers old .38spl,his back-up peice.My father,a former US Army Ranger,taught me by the numbers,first,respect for the weapon,then how to use it;then offensive and defensive hand gun tactics.After four months and a 1,000 drills,my dear old dad said,”You’ve proven yourself able to carry,and use this gun like a man,its yours’”, and it just so happened to be almost 2 weeks till my 14th birthday,I like to think of that day as the day I became a man.From that day on I carried that .38 proudly into my early 20s,and it saved my backside more then once!I then retierd it to the safe,and invested in a S&W model 19, .357 magnum.Alot of years have come and gone since then,and from time to time I take out that old six shooter and think back to that unforgetable day.Its true,you never forget your first…
I grew up in southern WVa in the late ’50’s and ’60’s. My Dad bought me a Winchester Model 60 when I was 10. I learned gun handling and safety at that young age.
I can remember going target shooting with my family and getting to shoot some of my father’s pistols: 1911, P-38, High Standard Citation; and of course my .22.
We had a gun shop in town that I did quite a few “horse trading” deals with. This was in my early teens. That meant that I had to carry my weapon from my house to town in order to get to the gun shop. People would ask me if I were going hunting along the way, and no-one raised an eyebrow.
Surprisingly, I never shot anyone during those bygone years. No one stopped me as a terrorist, no one showed fear of me carrying my rifle over my shoulder through town, the local police didn’t pay me any particular attention. After all, it was just a tool.
Currently, I’m a pistolero with my favorite pistol being the 1911, preferably Colts. I do have a couple of Colt wheelguns (my rationale for being on this site); a Diamondback and an Agent. Both have been gone over and refinished at the factory.
But, I’ll never forget that Winchester single shot, that was my first love.