At 13, raised in Texas, my first handgun had to be a Colt SAA in 32-20. It really wasn't mine, it was my step-father's. My older brother and I shot that thing several times a week as we could reload the 32-20 ourselves. I wore it to school on cowboy day. It had a matching 32-20 rifle. The promise was that my brother got the SAA and I was to get the rifle. That was all before my little brother arrived as the real son. The SAA fell off my step-father's truck fender going down the road. He sold it to a "friend" for pennies who wouldn't even speak to me when I offered to buy it for whatever he wanted. The rifle went to the real son and I'm still pissed to this day.
I left shooting for 40 years and only returned when I discovered my son had a collection and loved to shoot. I had rented guns and bows and taken him out when he was 13 or 14, but we didn't own any. Get this guys, he took me to the SAR show 5 years ago and helped me pick up the sweetest little Ruger Mark II you've ever seen. Stainless Government Target with seven inch barrel and a red dot scope from that awesome couple at Bud's Gun. The scope let even these tired old eyes see the target in focus and I was hooked. I've since become an accumulator as my wife calls me. But there's no way anybody could get that first Ruger away from me. It means so much that my son was instrumental in getting me started again.
I'm a very sentimental guy and the family connection in the two stories is what makes the intensity so high. One is a terrible story of loss and the other a wonderful story of a son teaching a father shooting. It has also meant that the two of us communicate much more regularly now on a topic we both love.
Lost
I left shooting for 40 years and only returned when I discovered my son had a collection and loved to shoot. I had rented guns and bows and taken him out when he was 13 or 14, but we didn't own any. Get this guys, he took me to the SAR show 5 years ago and helped me pick up the sweetest little Ruger Mark II you've ever seen. Stainless Government Target with seven inch barrel and a red dot scope from that awesome couple at Bud's Gun. The scope let even these tired old eyes see the target in focus and I was hooked. I've since become an accumulator as my wife calls me. But there's no way anybody could get that first Ruger away from me. It means so much that my son was instrumental in getting me started again.
I'm a very sentimental guy and the family connection in the two stories is what makes the intensity so high. One is a terrible story of loss and the other a wonderful story of a son teaching a father shooting. It has also meant that the two of us communicate much more regularly now on a topic we both love.
Lost