How it all started – A Love Affair

My interest and hobby with guns all started a few years back when I went to visit my uncle’s farm out east.  We had asked him when we first arrived if we might have the opporunity to do some “shootin”, we were both curious about it.  On the Fourth of July my wife and I arrived back at the farm after getting groceries for dinner to find my uncle had been busy while we were gone.  In the upper oarchard he had setup a a group of targets on one side of a small pond, and camp chairs and an American Flag on the other (4th of July and all).
We shot many guns that day ( A Ruger 10/22 , Ruger M77 Hawkeye in 30-06, 1911A1 from WWI, and a 44 Mag).  My favoritve being the 1911 which I continued to shoot until the ammo ran out. What a magnificent gun.  That experience put me on the quest for my first 1911, which I’ll talk about in another post.
A few months later I ended up buying my first gun, a Ruger SR9.  From there many more were bought.  Not only was I having fun punching holes in paper, but I was making some solid friendships along the way.
Maybe this really was a hobby I could enjoy.
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1 Response to How it all started – A Love Affair

  1. jason says:

    Bitter Sweet Ending

    About 14 years ago, I bought my first handgun; a Ruger Blackhawk 357 maximum. From that day forward, I bought several other handguns and long guns and each of them have memories that will last a lifetime.

    As a youngster, I bugged my dad day in and day out to buy me a handgun, because, alas, those were my favorite of the projectile throwing world. A lady in my home town had lost her husband a few years prior and she wanted to sell the revolver that he owned. The revolver didn’t have much meaning to her and her children were still quite small so she asked my dad if he knew of anyone that would want it. My dad shared this information with me and he told me that if I paid for it, he would register it in his name until I was old enough to register it myself. Until this moment, I thought my dad had never listened to my constant, nagging requests to buy me a handgun. Who would have known?

    I had delivered a couple of local news papers for several years as a youth and being quite tight with my money, I had saved plenty of money to buy guns. An old Smith and Wesson model 19 box under my dresser served as my “gun fund” box as a youngin. Come to think of it, I’m not sure where that old box came from because no one that I know owns at model 19, but nonetheless it held money equally as well as a model 19 I’m sure.

    A few weeks later my dad and I visited the lady in town and we went home with “my” first handgun. Hours and hours were spent dreaming about my new gun. How would it shoot? High? Low? Would it be too heavy to carry around in the woods? An equal amount of hours were spent enjoying its pure beauty and elegant features.

    Before I turned the legal age to legally own it, my dad would carry it around in the woods with him when we went deer hunting. I remember feeling quite a bit upset that he was able to carry it and I couldn’t. I only had to wait a few months before I was of age to carry it, but back then months felt like years. If only they felt that way now.

    During the past 14 years, I have aquired a few more guns, and I’m proud to say that my first handgun is still among them. I never thought about how much that first handgun meant to me until today.

    I almost never answer phone calls when there is a number that I don’t recognize. Today was no exception. I listened to the voice message after an unknown telephone number and it was from the son of the lady I spoke of above and he said that he had a couple of questions for me. It has been at least 10 to 12 years since I have seen, let alone talked to this young man, so I had no idea what he wanted to talk about. I called him back and he began talking about his dad’s old gun and he wanted to let me know that if I ever wanted to sell it to let him know and he made sure to tell me that there was no pressure and he would understand either way. “Ben”, I said, “If I ever want to get rid of it I will just give it to you”. While he was talking to me, I couldn’t help but think about how much feeling I would have toward something my dad owned and someone else now owned it other than family. I told him that I would think it over for a bit and I would get back with him. He said “Ok” and we hung up the phone. Two, maybe three seconds went by after hanging up with him and I called him back. “Ben”, I said. “Yeah Jason”, he replied. “I don’t know why it took me that long to think about it, but I’ll give you that gun”. We talked briefly and decided to meet later this week to give him the gun.

    As my first handgun, I’m sure going to miss the hell out of it, but if it means half as much to the person getting it as it does to me, then it’s going to a great place.

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