Guns—-here’s a topic that quickly divides people.
I have friends that enjoy hunting, who have small game rifles and shotguns and large game rifles, bows and arrows and side arms. Did you know that if you use a bow and arrow to hunt black bear in Minnesota, you are required to also carry a 357 or larger side arm for protection!
My dad’s mother, Grandma Zelma lived in Illinois oil country I didn’t get to see her very often. But, there was this time, I got to stay for week. Her second husband was Roy, seemly gruff on the outside, but very kind and gentle. I thought of Roy as my grandfather. Roy served in the Army in WWII, 36th Infantry, Combat Infantry, in North Africa, Italy and Europe. Two purple hearts and a bronze star. During my weeks visit, Roy got me BB gun for my birthday, not a sparrow was safe for miles around. I went through my allotment of BB money in just days. I now can just imagine the look on my mothers face to find out that I had a BB gun and lived in a city!! I think I recall the gun becoming damage and my father having to take the functioning parts out…..yeah right.
Have you ever just been merrily skipping through life and someone buts in and says you not skipping right, puts you down and makes fun of you? I know of people like that today, a group of self appoint do-gooders called “the media”. It’s their job to tell you how to think, shape your opinions and teach you right from wrong. Never mind how the media themselves act, but let someone run for public office, and a self appointed media do-gooder, will find a 25 year old event and make it today’s news. Two or more guns in a house is an arsenal and if they are found in a closet, its a stash!! I would suspect that media people have never handled a gun and by their standards no else should either!
We moved to the country in 1960. For some reason my father purchased a WWI British Enfield Sporterized Rifle. Sporterized means the forearm stock is cut down, more vanish applied to wood and it costs more. One day he (we) took it out shoot (I anxiously awaited my turn). He had obtained steel jacketed tracer ammo. Tracers; they used those in the war, so you could tell at night where your bullet was going. The bullet had a coating of white phosphorous which ignited while going through the barrel.
We had some “iron wood” logs. Well, I don’t really know what kind of wood it was, but it was dead, dried and an ax would bounce right off, so we called them “iron wood”. We used two logs in-line as backing for our target which was placed at the edge of field near a fence row this July day. Now my dad was in WWII, never going overseas, but was a marksman with a rifle and with a shotgun, we had rabbit and pheasant to eat, when I was very young. We’re laying on the ground dad sited in, fired once, twice, three times. Three times, I’m thinking it must be about my turn… 🙂 We’re laying there looking at the target….what’s that in the field?? SMOKE!!! We rushed over and began stomping out the little blaze in the dried grass. Yep, the tracer ammo hit the target, went through both logs and into the field and started a fire.
I never got my turn…. 😦