I don’t know or can’t remember as a little kid that we had guns in the house. It’s possible that Dad had sold his guns during the depression. Here’s a picture of my brother Bob holding a rifle at about age 4-5 in 1935 or so. That looks like a Model 62 Winchester 22.
After the War (WW2) was over things got a little better at the Fourscores’.
Sometime, around ’44 or ’45 Dad bought his ‘deer rifle’, a Remington .30 caliber, slide (pump) action with a flip up peep sight mounted on the rear tang. I think he may have paid $65 for it, way more than a week’s wages at the time
Ammunition was still scarce because all gunpowder had been going to the war effort. About 1946 he found an ad in a sports magazine, like Outdoor Life or Field and Stream, for ammunition, if my memory is accurate it was 5 boxes (of 20) for $10.
He nailed a red jar cover, about 3-inch diameter to a square of plywood. We went out to a dump south of Minneapolis, somewhere near the Mendota Bridge, one Sunday. He stepped off about 50 yards, set up his target. Went back to the car, leaned across the hood, put up the peep sight, sighted and pulled the trigger. He went back to the target, he had shot the nail holding the can cover out . He said “That’s probably close enough” or words to that effect.
We would go to Uncle Floyd’s for deer hunting and stay with them. Uncle Cliff, Uncle Floyd, Dad and maybe some other locals would hunt together in Ross Lake Township. Deer were scarce and I don’t know that Dad shot one for a few years. He didn’t like the peep sight and he took it off.
Sometime later, he started hunting with a different gang of friends, Brother Bob was about 16, he went with them and carried a shotgun with slugs. Dad shot a couple deer along the way, I can’t remember.
Time passes and in 1952 we moved to the farm. Deer were still scarce and Dad got into a gang with Howard Lambert and they hunted (and hunted) and it was always with ‘Drivers’ and ‘Standers’. Brother Bill and I would hunt with them, I was always a ‘Driver’, ’cause the ‘Standers’ had more opportunity to see deer and I was happy just to be out with the ‘boys’. I don’t know that Dad actually shot a deer during that time but we always got some meat from someone.
I left home in the fall of ’56, before deer season, Dadhunted our property alone after that and would occasionally shoot a deer with his trusty .30 Remington. In 1968 Mom and Dad decided to have an auction sale, sell everything and move to Cuyuna, Dad had been sick for a couple years.
Don Fletcher, Gus’s older brother, (who lived next door to us here) bought the trusty Remington, the peep sight had been lost along the way. Don had his guns all tagged as to which family members would get them upon his death. I saw the rifle a few times, in his gun cabinet with the white tag on it . Don died and the gun disappeared.
On my 65th birthday Gus and Russ came over about 9 AM or so, I went to make coffee and when I came back there was a long skinny package in the recliner. I knew exactly what it was, I tore the package open and I was right. After 30 odd years the gun had found its way back home. Russ had tracked the gun to Idaho, to Don’s daughter/son-in-law. Made them an offer (I think $300 but I’m not sure) and the gun came back via licensed gun dealers.
By this time it was an obsolete caliber, ammo was impossible to find. I ordered a set of reloading dies, custom made. A friend in Oklahoma had a friend that did a lot of gun shows and asked him (the friend of my friend) to look for 30 Remington brass. He found some and I ordered a 100. Reloaded about 40 rounds, enough to sight in and use as necessary.
Better friends and a nicer gift cannot be found. I wanted to shoot a deer with that gun but I didn’t want to put a ‘scope on it. I always used a ‘scope gun as I got older and my glasses got thicker. Then about 15 years ago I had a deer on the first or second day of the season so I started carrying the Remington. Russ was on the next stand to the north and I heard him shoot. I saw him climb out of his stand so I walked on over. He’d shot a deer but it had ran away and because he’s colorblind he couldn’t see a trail. I found the trail and we started looking in the brush, I was in the lead. We found the deer, it could run but not very well. Russ told me to solve the problem, it was his deer but he insisted. It was the only deer I shot with my Dad’s rifle but it was enough.
Now the gun has moved on to younger hands and eyes and hopefully will be passed on to another generation when the time comes. The gun, ammo, reloading dies and extra brass went to Texas last fall.
Beautiful, 4X20.
Between my brother and I, we have a few of the family guns. Jason has our grandfathers ’94, and a Colt Bisley that came from who knows were in the family (maybe the train robber great-great…) and I have a Lugar that was taken away from a Mexican on a LAWP gang in the ’20s. I also have my uncle’s (other side) Ithaca 37. My wife has her fathers L.C. Smith, sitting in the safe, also.
All of them are memories in physical form.
My 94 is in TX with my son. I bought it when I was about 14 with my paper route money, my Dad and I were hitting the Mpls pawn shops. My Dad passed judgement and I laid my $40 on the counter and I was a happy kid.
Endlessly amused that my current town used to make guns. It must be a constant source of embarrassment for the radical leftists that run the place now.
They are proud they ran out the evil gun smiths.
It’s dusty in here.
I’ve got the family guns. A Savage 1904 bolt action .22, Savage 340 .30-30, Winchester 1873 in .32-20, a Stephens 12ga side by side, and a Montgomery Wards bolt action .40. None expensive, all got plenty of use.
Dad never had any guns though he didn’t have a problem with them. The first gun we ever had in the house was a .22 I bought.
Grandad (and before) all had guns, having been raised in Florida’s armpit, which is still the middle of nowhere.
No guns in my single-mom household, until a stepfather entered the scene later in HS. I knew he was the huntin’ sort but I don’t recall any guns in the house until I went to college and they left the Big City for the country. There was a gun cabinet when I visited for holidays. I never had any interest in that stuff.
My single momma wouldn’t allow my brother or I to have guns or motorcycles.
Not long after I moved away, I bought both.
No idea who will get mine when I pass.
I should probably start thinking about that.
*raises hand*
I’m an excellent d̵r̵i̵v̵e̵r̵ marksman.
My guess is all of mine will get sold off.
This is a really fun look back that comes full-circle, especially with your adult version of a secret unwrapping affair.
I’ve never been hunting, nor fishing. I’m envious of you and others who were kinda born into it. Seems hard for a rookie to get into without any help. (I’m not looking, though both the history and very nature of it appeal to me.)
This is a smart observation. I wasn’t born into hunting either. My first hunting trip didn’t happen until I was well into my 30s. I grew up where virtually no one was a hunter. And even though I moved to where there are lots of hunters, I still have a hard time getting in with them to go hunting. The only hunting trips I’ve been on have been guided trips out west.
Deer camps around here are notoriously hard to get into.
You have to be born into one or marry into it.
My current situation is a strange one. Decades ago, my dad talked a lawyer who he worked with into letting us hunt his land. The lawyer always hunted in his family deer camp and had 80 acres of land that he intended to build a house on. He said sure, go hunt that land.
The first crisis was when Lawyer finally built a house on the land. We thought that was the end of a good deal. But he said, no worries, lots of space for my house and your deer stands. Go ahead and keep hunting.
Then Lawyer had a huge falling out at his deer camp with his brother-in-law. I won’t go into the details, but it ended with the Lawyer leaving his family deer camp and hunting with us on his own land.
Over the years, both the Altar Boys got old enough to hunt and joined us. Lawyer and his wife were both super excited when they got their first deers. Our group became a real Deer Camp.
When my dad passed away suddenly, my sister and I had to go see the Lawyer about my dad’s will. Lawyer said something to the effect “It is a super simple 50/50 split of everything, now let’s talk about the important stuff. What are you going to do about deer hunting?”
Lawyer offered to let us sleep at his house if we needed to. Whatever we needed, he wanted us back that year to hunt with him. It was pretty touching.
This last fall, my daughter-in-law shot her first deer (third year hunting). The Lawyer and his wife (and myself) were all proud as anything.
Muzzled:
I think that it also is tough to join a hunting group because of how serious it is to be running around with guns.
You really have to be sure about someone to go on hunting trip with them. I have been thinking about asking a few buddies to go on a grouse hunting trip in W NoDak next year, but I’m hesitant. What if they don’t have the same approach to safety? Or if they want to poach or trespass? That would not only ruin the trip, but strain the friendship as well.
It would really suck to end up walking fields with Dick Cheney Jr. and getting shot.
Jimbo, you’d be safe in inviting me, ’cause I couldn’t go.
Our deer hunting group (of 6) got over taken by the calendar and the funeral director. Only 2 left and I’m more of a spectator these days.
I haven’t shot a deer the past 3 seasons.
Though I’m sure the locals are safety-conscious, here, I think, it’s more about keeping hunting spots secret.
It’s one reason why I think keeping lots of wilderness land open for public hunting is important, and certainly one of my failings as a libertarian.
Daughter in law? I can recall you telling in the present tales about them as youngins. No way your boys are old enough to be married.
3/5th of my deer hunting buddies are married to gynecologists.
/the stories they tell!
/moldy peanut butter
/abraded clitoruses
/small potatoes
My dad had hunted when younger, although with his vision it is amazing that he ever got deer or goose, but had quit by the time I was old enough. I picked it up in my late 30s, and taught a friend of my how to shoot around the same time. He has become a big time sportsman, even gets involved with the state DFG to show new hunters the ropes and such.
If you really want to, there are ways to learn, and plenty of people to show you.
If you’re a woman or a child, state game dept has programs for you to get started. Adult male? Fuck you buddy.
I grew up with fishing, mostly trout but never kept it up. All rusty now and no tackle. Maybe this will be the year to take it back up. Maybe.
Great story 4×20. My father and I had a lot of great memories hunting in our younger years. I still have my first deer rifle and it can still make a hole where I want it.
I just traded my FIL’s old .35 rem Model 14 last month to buy a Colt python. It had seen better days and I was using it. It was taking up space that I would rather use for more interesting stuff. My hunting days are over unless there is a dramatic change in the world and I need the meat.
It’s a shame, I have nephews that might want some of the old timer stuff my FIL and I have, but I doubt it. I’m hoping my sister’s kid or my SIL’s might be interested in hunting.
This is a great story. I love that the rifle came back to you.
My maternal grandfather bequeathed his .30-06 to my dad when he passed. It was the gun he had used in Canada when he was a poacher supporting his family.
It had iron sights and kicked like a mule. Dad and I both tried shooting it at the range one time. ONE time. After that it was in the gun cabinet for years.
Sometime after I left to join Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children, Dad sold or swapped the rifle to someone. As beautiful as your story is Fourscore, I don’t think either of us ever missed it for a second.
When my Dad died, he gave me all the guns except a 20 ga double barrel shotgun that belonged to my sister and his Remington .270. The .270 also went to my sister. She got it because it was the rifle she shot a moose with. I understand the reasoning, but that was the one gun I really wanted. I have a lot of fond memories of Dad shooting mulies, white tails and even elk with that rifle.
I was also going to say that when we were living on our farm, Dad would declare “special one day hunts” for white tails.
This meant that while he was sneaking around the woods on the farm hunting squirrels, he surprised a deer close enough to kill with a .22. Dad didn’t see why it was necessary to wait a few weeks and have to sit in a cold stand to get a deer when one was standing right there on a nice fall day.
Mr. Probation Officer had a long talk with Altar Boy Jimbo about the importance of not bragging about his success at school.
When I became old enough to hunt, we had moved to town and we would start the day by sitting on a 5 gallon bucket on some public land for a few hours. Then we’d join up with a crew and start driving fields and woods. Like Fourscore, I was always a driver. The old guys always got to be the standers. There was no pretense that it should be any other way and I knew whining about being a driver would lead to severe repercussions.
We call that the Homeowner’s Season, Jimbo.
My brother worked in a gun store in Waukegan. After a gun had been on the shelf for awhile the owner/manager would offer it to my brother at cost. Anyway I ended up with a Ted Williams (Montgomery Wards or Sears) 30-06, bolt action Mossberg, right hand bolt, of course. As a southpaw it was a little uncomfortable to shoot but that gun would reach out and touch a deer and I don’t think I ever had to worry about the second shot. It wasn’t beautiful but scratches didn’t matter.
That one resides in TX and the skinny long haired owner said, “My, My, that thing kicks a bit.”
This is great.
I still have some newer/shinier toys that I can’t decide on. Fairly expensive (Except for an SKS, which is kind of my favorite these days). I don’t need the money, my kids don’t hunt. I’ve given about 15 or more away already. My grand daughter in Alaska shot her first moose with a Marlin 336 (30-30) that I had given her. Several others are in Alaska as well.
With the exception of a Weatherby .22 I’ve got the reloading dies for the rest but I have so much ammo that I never shoot the dies will go with the guns.
I doubt I’ll get any guns.
My dad has let me know he’s been selling his collection rather than giving them to me or my kids. I’m sure his wife’s grandkids have gotten plenty of them though.
My children will get all of my assets and the pews.
Not a dime will go to charity, friends or strangers.
Same. I got some spurs and belt buckles from my dad’s estate. That was it. I am making sure my daughter gets a place to live and some other assets when I go.
Even with all the unfortunate boating accidents, you guys still seem to have impressive arsenals.
Talk is cheap, whiskey costs money.
Nah its all wishful thinking and what-ifs.
You start poor with a hand me down or pawn shop hunting rifle.
Spend your meager allowance on a revolver, buy a buddies cheep 12 guage when he gets a nice one. In twenty years you start making enough money to buy some nice stuff yourself.
Just now in the middle of dealing with distributing all of my Dad’s and Granddaddy’s guns between me and my 2 brothers. He died in 2021 and Mom last summer. There’s about 11 of them, all pretty mundane farm guns. Nicest are 2 old 1100s and an Auto-5 clone that used to accidentally go full-auto when I was a kid. Others are more like the bolt-action single-shot .22 that always stood in the utility room corner. But most have the personal/emotional connection of being the first guns I ever used. Used to wish we had more heirloom-quality stuff, but that’s just not who we are.
Same. My Grandpa bought the Ruger Revolver (.357/.38 special) that I have at a hardware store in Arizona. You could do that back then.
/you can’t do that now
/2A Fuck Yea
The Ruger was probably on the shelf next to the dynamite in the hardware store.
I remember looking at the racks of AKs, SASs, and 30 carbines at the local Ace, Big V when I was in Jr high and into high school. Big cans of Chinese steel cased 308 in there too. I never had the money to get any of it.
I remember the Big 5 ads with $100-200 foreign surplus.
My dad is still alive so I have only a couple family guns. I have a ancient 16 gauge side by side from my great grandfather. A Stevens that was exported to Italy and brought to the States when he immigrated. The other is a M1903 action mounted on an 1930s M4 match rifle stock and then cut down to almost carbine length. I have brought home a bunch of game with both.
My father sat me and my brothers down and we worked out who gets what when he dies.
Damn 4X20, your story made it dusty in here.
The only gun I have is an old 19th century Belgian shooting gallery gun my Dad picked up somewhere. It has a hexagonal barrel. Only takes short .22’s and was not particularly accurate being that the gun was built to metric standards. Shot a few squirrels and rabbits with it but nothing more. Haven’t shot it in decades.
Good morning, all you victims of future boating accidents.
🚣😱🔫
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLjcTZBB0no
🎶🎶
On topic music.
I finished the Sierra Madre last night. Couldn’t make it out with all the gold. I tried several times and decided I didn’t even care anymore. I just wanted out.
The strategies for extracting the gold come in two categories – Speedrunning level complicated, and Mods. As designed, you’re not supposed to be able to get it.
Of course, that tells me you didn’t get the secret ending where you join Father Elijiah and conquer the Mojave with the Sierra Madre tech. (I am not making this up.)
I did not. I saw a youtube video about how to try to sneak out with all the gold, but was unable to replicate and after a couple tries I let it go.
The travel light perk may have made my attempt successful. *shrug*
Good morning, Sean, U, Ted’S., and Roat!
Morning, GT.
How goes it with you, TT, and 🐱👤😼?
It goes OK. Ninja Cat is on my lap right now and is going to be perturbed when I get up to get my coffee.
How are you?
I forgot how talkative other people are when I most want quiet.
I made it to the office, and am trying not to say bad things about the end users. But I wish people would read what was written.
The change in the weather has been good for my hands – I may not need medical superglue after all.
My preferred local traffic map still doesn’t work on my preferred browser (LibreWolf,) but at least on Firefox it’s showing Dayton instead of Pittsburgh. 🙄 It’s clearly a different product, and it’s not nearly as good as the old one. An exclamation mark symbol that looks to be right on the interstate downtown is labeled “(UD Arena) Dayton Flyers Womens Basketball.” Does that mean their team bus is broken down on the highway and blocking a lane?
🤔
😀
What’s the point in a government having an Instagram page if its citizens can’t see the content without being Instagram members?
Where’s a judge to rule Instagram must allow non-members access to government accounts?
I was looking for information on yesterday’s water outage. The town’s main site embeds a Facebook feed, but nothing there. The link to Instagram looked like it had all the same photos from the Facebook feed, but if you click on any of the pictures it won’t let you see them unless you log in.
No news on any of the local news sites either.
No link to a Twitter feed. I’m guessing someone on the Town Board must have has a hissy fit over Elon Musk.
Just give them all if your info and log in with yet another account. While you’re there make sure to post plenty of pics of what you ate for lunch, your vacation, and you in a bikini. Easy peasy.
Most people should not be posting pictures of themselves in a bikini.