The Fourscores always celebrated birthdays, it was time of feeling a little special, at least for a day. My Mom always baked a cake and usually had corn starch frosting with a little flavoring. We occasionally had ice cream as well, a special treat. Gifts were always there but nothing extravagant. I remember for my 7th birthday I got a bicycle, one that my Dad had repaired from several old(er) ones and painted it some sort of red. No fenders so it wasn’t so great on a wet day but at least I could tag along with my older brother. Anyway, we had learned by then that money was scarce and thrift was a way of life. We were comfortable enough and our parents were hard working honest people.
As my eighth birthday approached I wasn’t thinking much about it, another milestone. I was a June boy so I was going to be in third grade when school started back up in September. We had the usual celebration, the cake made from scratch, the regular frosting probably, I don’t remember the ice cream. Anyway, after supper (Fourscores ate supper, not dinner) I was waiting for my disappointing gift, my Dad went out to the garage and brought in something wrapped up and handed it to me. Man, it was heavy! I opened it up and couldn’t believe it! It was a gun, a real rifle!
Not any ordinary rifle but a model 61 Winchester .22, a pump gun. It was used but still pristine, as far as I was concerned. A top of the line rifle, I was ecstatic. I learned later that he’d paid $40 for it, somehow my folks had saved up that money to buy a special gift for me. My dad said I’d have to take care of it myself. I already knew how to shoot so I was wanting to try it out. Well, I’d have to wait ’til we went out in the country somewhere.
As time passed I was allowed to shoot under supervision. Gradually I was able to ask/tell my Mom I was going to shoot some gophers or other dangerous critters, with the parental advice to be careful and shoot safely. By 10 I didn’t have to ask but rather could take the gun out alone as long as my folks knew about it. It was a heck of a time to be a young lad. Ammo was always a problem but once a year, in the fall, my Dad would come home with a brick of Gamble’s special. Ten boxes, 500 rounds,long rifle. My brother had a gallery model, a Winchester model 62 but it only shot .22 shorts, I could shoot his ammo but he couldn’t shoot mine.
As I got a little older I wanted a shotgun, my Dad and oldest brother could shoot ducks and grouse but I was stuck with a .22. Somehow, my Dad found someone that was willing to trade a shotgun for an antique Gothic style radio that we rarely used. Ahhh, now I was the proud owner of an Iver Johnson Champion, a single shot 12 gauge and I was ready. Twelve years old, skinny and that gun could thump me pretty well but I wasn’t shooting skeet, I was after the occasional bunny or whatever crossed my path. I had a paper route delivering the Minneapolis Star (evening) and the Tribune (morning) so I had to pay for my own shells. That was OK as long as I could keep my brothers out of my stash, which was held by my parents.
Things were going pretty well, junior high, employed and a couple guns of my own. Then one day my Dad came home from work and told me about the kid that worked at the gas station where they got their company gas. The kid had 2-.22 pistols for sale, a Ruger and a High Standard, both auto loaders and like new condition and he wanted $15 for each gun. I really got excited, told my Dad I wanted the High Standard and had the cash saved. My Dad smiled and said, “I already bought it” and gave me the gun and I paid him. Talk about making a young Fourscore happy. I was ready for anything, except deer. A serious hunter doesn’t take a 12 gauge single shot for deer, at least not intentionally.
Finally the day came when it was decided that I could deer hunt with “The Boys”.
I was fourteen but I still needed a gun. On a Saturday my Dad took me shopping at the pawnshops. I wanted a lever action ’cause it seemed like the serious hunters used a lever gun. We found one after looking in a couple places, a Model 94 Winchester, it had been re-barreled and looked nice. My Dad pronounced it fit for a young hunter, I dug down and came up with the $40 asking price. No tax in those days. Now I had the full range of hunting equipment, I could handle anything the Minnesota woods could throw at me.
Time goes by and high school graduation arrived and with it a JC Higgins 16 gauge double barrel, gifted from a family friend. It was made by Stevens, a model 311 knockoff. Had the nylon stock and forearm and had an adequate recoil. It was twice as much fun at the old 12 gauge single shot. A year later the army got my attention and I left my armory with my Dad while I went off in my new green wardrobe. I didn’t get home often during hunting seasons but on occasion I would have a chance to shoot one or another at some tin cans.
My Dad’s health was failing, my folks had an auction sale and moved to a smaller house, taking my stuff with them. I was in Spain, we had a really good Rod and Gun Club and I was able to buy some quality equipment at reasonable prices.
My Dad passed away and eventually I ended up in Texas on a more permanent basis and recovered my stash from my Mom, except for one missing piece. The High Standard pistol was missing and she didn’t know what had happened to it.
I ended up back in Minnesota and shortly before I retired my Mom left us. Then a few months later my step father died and I’d pretty much forgotten about the missing pistol. Sometime later, a few months or so, the last caregiver called me to ask what I wanted from the estate. I told him about the missing gun and he said, “I got that gun, come by and I’ll give it to you” I was like a kid again, like the day my Dad had bought it for me. It was still wrapped up in the same old towel that I’d last seen it in, about 40 years earlier, when I left home.
Along the way I sold the JC Higgins, for grocery money. I turned the Iver Johnson into a wall hanger and gave it away. I gave my son the Model 94, what happens after that I’ll never know. A number of guns have came in and out my door since the early times but I still have my first one, that old Model 61, it still out shoots me, the open sights haven’t changed but my eyes have. The High Standard is within arms reach, wrapped up in the same towel.
Even an old boy never forgets his first gun, his first car or his first girl friend. That .22 has outlasted a number of cars and girl friends and still works as well as the first time I saw it.
This was a wonderful read.
Thanks, Fourscore.
This.
Point of fact, my father had the same Hi-Standard, a gift from his mother.
*wipes away a single tear*
+1 – Thanks Fourscore.
I inherited Dad’s Winchester M62A when he passed. I won a couple of turkey shoots with it, when I was younger. It was satisfying to out-shoot the guy who had the fancy gun with peep sights with my plain ‘ol open sights.
Great article, brings back memories.
This was a great read. I like the perspective you’ve taken on this. I guess I was missing reading your “growing up” stories.
Anyway, we had learned by then that money was scarce and thrift was a way of life. We were comfortable enough and our parents were hard working honest people.
This is how you end up with a Fourscore.
Them’s some purty guns. And a nice story. Thanks.
How many lefties faint when you tell them you got a rifle for your eighth birthday?
I gave .22 single shot rifles to my granddaughter and two of my grandsons on their 10th birthdays.
My Dad acquired an M1911 when I was about 10-11. I got to shoot it a few times but ammo was so expensive it was a real treat. A whole other story.
I was 7 when my father first took me shooting.
We need to start kids young. Good for your father, good for you.
I took my niece shooting during my visit. She loved it, though we really need to work on her arm strength. Many many many limp-wristing failures, and a couple of scary muzzle flipping up towards the ceiling instances.
He ensured my first shots were on targets to demonstrate the damage firearms can do. The shotgun v watermelon was my favorite though the kick of a 12 gauge was a bit much at the time. Years later I used my skills to kill an old PBX rack.
*applause*
That’s a fine collection.
Great stuff.
My first gun was one of Pater Dean’s Remington 1100 12 gauge shotguns, for deer hunting in Wisconsin. I would have been around 30 or so. Very shortly after, I got my Para Ordnance .45. I’ve never parted with a gun, although we do have one or two in the safe I wouldn’t miss.
I’ve started giving things away. Several went to Alaska with my youngest grand daughter, my son has a few, another grand daughter has a couple and odds and ends to some good friends that some of you would recognize IRL. I’m undecided on some others.
When we moved north, I left my Dad’s guns in the care of our oldest daughter, with the admonition that ‘they are still mine, you’re just holding on to them for me.’ She loves to shoot and was very close to her Grandpa, so it’s long been kind of understood that she’d end up with her Grandpa’s guns.
Heirlooms are where they find them. Families with outdoor traditions tend to pass guns on, and a gun, if well-cared for, can last a long, long time – I was just out grouse hunting a few weeks ago with a 130-year old shotgun.
This is a great story, Fourscore. Thanks for sharing it. I’m a little envious of you on that old Winchester .22 pumpgun!
My Gramps gave me his Winchester Model 50 12 ga, bit It’s so beautiful I’m afraid to use it! Only 60 years old, though.
A lot of squirrels, gophers, chipmunks and a few wood chucks, porcupines, and a badger wished that I’d never had that gun. Every gun has a story,
I try to pass that along so the kiddos will know the origin and maybe be able to pass along the history. I’m sure you do the same thing.
Nothing like a High Standard .22LR.
Great read and sounds like a great experience… Though this is one of those cultural difference things where i cannot relate ate all 🙂
I remember shooting some lightweight shotgun at boy scout camp 50+ years ago. Never shot a firearm after that.
Until 5 years ago. Now I have several handguns, a few rifles, and a pair of shotguns.
My Dad acquired an M1911 when I was about 10-11.
That’s a big gun for kid-sized hands.
Forescore is a giant among men.
Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus
We need more kids shooting pidgeons in Bucharest. Maybe some brows as well. Gophers not so much. Although my.mom has the occasional mole problem, but dem fuckers underground you cant shoot at them
Sure you can. The hard part is targetting and making sure you use enough firepower. You may need to grade and sod afterwards.
I’ve shot a mole underground. Saw the dirt moving where the little bastard was. The .45 did the job.
Lovely essay, Fourscore. Thank you.
So thinking more about it, if I have a shotgun that hasn’t been fired in more than 30 years, does it make sense to have a gunsmith inspect it?
Was is stored at the bottom of a lake?
Is it a semi auto?
If not (and not damascus barrels) , clean it and oil it and go, IMO.
No, and I’ve cleaned and oiled it regularly. It’s a semiauto.
Thanks, I think I will take it out for a spin!
I would take it apart and give it a good inspection and cleaning.
Stocks can dry out and crack. Or warp. Rust can form. Otherwise, I can’t see anything bad happening to a gun just because it sat around.
If you find anything that looks really off or beyond your skills, then hand it to a gunsmith.
Thanks! Just went down and got it out. With the exception of a few scratches, stock looks great. I’ll take it apart and give it a once over.
You’re welcome!
I think if there are any problems, they’ll be under the wood-line. It tends to hide things.
But, you’ll probably be fine.
I told him about the missing gun and he said, “I got that gun, come by and I’ll give it to you” I was like a kid again, like the day my Dad had bought it for me. It was still wrapped up in the same old towel that I’d last seen it in, about 40 years earlier, when I left home.
Is it dusty in here?
Great stuff Fourscore!
OT – long form article from Vanity Fair. It would appear even VF is coming around to the possible laboratory origin of COVID-19
COVID-19 Origins: Investigating a “Complex and Grave Situation” Inside a Wuhan Lab
Oh wait, isn’t that theory the type of “disinformation” the government and tech companies were trying to censor? And if they had their way, would still not see the light of day?
*waves hellow*
Back in Glibland after living the pewpew life for two weeks. (Wow, not entirely OT!)
Saw so many things. Watched a guy win three national shooting competitions with a $600 plastic Turkish gun. The exact same gun for the last two of them.
I saw an open shooter who looked exactly like an Anime Ninja Girl, down to the knee socks, pleated miniskirt and mirrored half-faceplate.
I saw Tres’ dream girl, an open shooter who goes by the nom de BLAM of “Pink Zilla” who’s body was a perfect ovoid, any hint of breasts hidden as her jersey stretched from collarbone to distended, hanging completely over and below the belt abdomen.
I learned that Colt sponsors just about nobody, unless you’re a cute-as-a-button phenom, DaVinci Machining sponsors everybody and you can get an idea about a person by the companies who chose to sponsor them.
Welcome back!
Saw so many things. Watched a guy win three national shooting competitions with a $600 plastic Turkish gun. The exact same gun for the last two of them.
I love this. One of my hunting buddies won his club’s sporting clays comp with an 870 pump. Pissed off a lot of people.
Story time!
The chief on my stage at production nationals was a Russian dude who I thought was about my age. He was relating anecdotes about his time in the Soviet Army.
“On the medical exam, we were asked ‘you see your buddy, he is not breathing and has no pulse. What do you do?’ Eighty percent of my class wrote ‘shoot him again!’ The instructor was so mad. We didn’t care, we all knew we were going to Afghanistan…”
*Record scratch*
I’m glad Charlie Wilson didn’t get him blow’d up. He’s a good CRO.
LOL!
That’s awesome.
He also said that there was no indication that the Soviets were leaving… until he watched the news on TV which showed the handover ceremony as the “last Soviets left.” His outpost was unable to raise anyone on the radio for two days after that. On the third day he reached someone that said that they weren’t forgotten and eventually a Hind came along (and did not get stingered) and he went home.
We used to find the bones of the men of a Russian engineer battalion that was abandoned at Bagram AF. Their Air Force said “we’ll be back for you” flew off and never returned. The muj came whooping down out of the hills and gave them a choice, convert and join them on the spot, or die. A few ended up being part of Ahmad Shah Masood’s bodyguard, almost all were shot and dumped in some pits around the base.
Did you repatriate the remains or did they say “nyet, burial is fine.”
Chaplain said take them over to a large grave we had made and deposit them respectfully.
Biden’s model for our retreat, apparently.
One of my neighbors was in the Red Army (nuke artillery battalion). His stories always reminded me of stories my family and buddies would tell. Apparently fucked up command is a universal military institution.
He did say that when the officers would go to bed, out came the radios for AFN and Radio Free Europe. It’s how he learned English!
Welcome back!
It took a long time to get caught up on the backlog of particles and comments.
“the backlog of particles”
Hey, we keep the place swept and mopped here!
Just look at all these magnetic monopoles!
Welcome back! Glad you had a good time.
“Watched a guy win three national shooting competitions with a $600 plastic Turkish gun. The exact same gun for the last two of them.” Nils is so cool. Men buy him drinks, women slip him their phone numbers.
“I saw an open shooter who looked exactly like an Anime Ninja Girl, down to the knee socks, pleated miniskirt and mirrored half-faceplate.” She’s a NoVa local, and she’s pretty good. Don’t recall her name, but I think she’s Luke Cao’s friend/girlfriend/SO.
“I saw Tres’ dream girl, an open shooter who goes by the nom de BLAM of “Pink Zilla” who’s body was a perfect ovoid, any hint of breasts hidden as her jersey stretched from collarbone to distended, hanging completely over and below the belt abdomen.” Fat people can kick ass in USPSA too. Look at Rob Leatham. Dude’s pushing 60, fifty pounds overweight, and is on like his fifth replacement knee, and he still smokes fools in Single Stack division.
“I learned that Colt sponsors just about nobody, unless you’re a cute-as-a-button phenom, DaVinci Machining sponsors everybody and you can get an idea about a person by the companies who chose to sponsor them.” Well played. I need to start hitting up fetish gear companies for sponsorships. Maybe I’ll find one out there with a sense of humor…
Please do. Get sponsorship of a sex toy company and make your nickname “The Dildo of Consequences.”
Hear! Hear!
I suppose you’d be using something with a polymer frame and batteries.
I am disappointed that nobody else commented on that pic.
I had a stupid amount of fun and now have a CRO rocker. Unfortunately, my CRO during Race Gun was the first person at nats I thought was below average. The Rooskie was during prod/PCC
I also learned that IPSC targets are more challenging than USPSA. On Stage 2, switching the type of targets was the only difference between the matches. The first time I shot it with USPSA targets, I had a 3.97HF. The second time (with IPSC) it was 2.9something. While I would readily admit that maybe the previous week of sleeping like shit in the hotel might have affected my performance, I actually ranked higher on that second, lower HF than on the earlier That one I wound up finishing 61st in prod. I had another stage finish that high, and it was on a stage I slowed tf down and made sure to get all the points on.
Yup. Classic targets can be a stone drag. I keep a stash to practice on, if I ever feel like I’m getting too comfortable on my accuracy.
A very sweet trip down memory lane, Fourscore.
I wish there was a way to have Rumble start at a particular time in a video, but scroll ahead to 46:37 here https://rumble.com/v1qumfa-happy-halloween-dhs-leaks-babylon-bee-briefs-something-else….html?start=2797
J6 in Espanol.
It’s popping off in Brazil…
Supporters of President Bolsonaro are blocking roads around the country and access to Sao Paulo international airport is restricted. Reports of multiple flights canceled.
Enxada você diz Boogaloo em português?
Enxada?
Foda-se se eu sei, acabei de usar o google tradutor
Same difference.
a Model 94 Winchester
This was my first rifle. Still have it. Nice gun.
There was one in my family. Unfortunately it, along with all my grandfather’s guns, mysteriously vanished (and not into my possession) after my uncle died.
Just wait until the clucking infection is over.
Iowa – 1.1 million chickens will be killed at a Wright County chicken farm about 80 miles north of Des Moines, ABC News reported.
The commercial egg farm in north central Iowa was infected with bird flu.
Those chickens should have masked up.
Brava!
Eh. fucked it up.
The Presidents of the United States of America – Feather Pluckn
Cluckin’ great!
What a cock-up
That was a great read, Fourscore, thanks. City boys like me missed out on that, although a modern city lad is probably fairly conversant with certain kinds of firearms.
My first gun was a bolt-action 12ga (Ithaca?) that was never satisfactory. I ended up trading it against a S&W police shotgun. Similarly, my first handgun, a Ruger KP-90, has since been sold, in favor of a Sig P220. Both guns I bought myself, so no particular sentimental attachment.
I am the current custodian of my father’s Remington 11-48 20ga. That gun was given him by his father, but was initially told it was “on loan.” When he scratched the stock going over a barbed-wire fence, he was distraught, until his father told him it was actually a gift. That’s the story he told, at least.
“… who’s body was a perfect ovoid, any hint of breasts hidden as her jersey stretched from collarbone to distended, hanging completely over and below the belt abdomen.”
I’ll just see my way to my bunk.
I shot many family guns before I owned one (my Dad was a competitive target shooter) but the very first gun I ever owned myself is my Marlin .45-70 lever gun. Losing my virginity was probably still a bit more thrilling, but the gun and I are still on good terms whereas if I were to track down that girl I’d probably get hung up on/slapped.
So the gun wins.
I’ve noticed recently that the stock on my .22 rolling block (originally marketed as a firearm for teaching kids marksmanship) has a crack in it. It’s not severe, and I figure If I glue it, it’ll be fine, being a .22lr and all. Is regular wood glue the best choice, or does anyone have a better recommendation? Also, any tips on clamping the stock given it’s lovely shape?
I would think epoxy would be better. They make them specifically for wood, but others here may have more experience.
Epoxy for wood is better. Usually there will be some surface disruption when you have a split, the epoxy can smooth it out and be sanded. Wood glue doesn’t really do that.
Mark Novak swears by Acraglass.
But epoxy might be fine for UCS.
Any chance of a pic? I think how big and where the crack is will determine the best course on both gluing and clamping.
Are you planning to refinish it?
I haven’t made plans on what to do yet. I posted a picture on the forum and a link in my response to kinnath.
It’s annoyingly small, but in a bad spot.
It depends upon what the crack looks like.
For slender cracks you just want to keep from expanding: use thin super glue (check out luthier glues) . These will penetrate deep into cracks. Spritz it when an accelerator, and it will hard instantly.
For wide cracks: use a white glue or wood glue, then compress the crack. You can wrap the stock in heavy, stretchy material (think bike inner tube) in combination with some clamps.
There are many other options as well.
Post a photo on the forum. And I will look at it.
It’s a small crack, but in an inopportune location
https://www.glibertarians.us/wp-content/uploads/wpforo/default_attachments/1667332717-RollingBlockCrack_Pointers.jpg
In my memory it went further in the other direction, but it looks like it’s on the narrowest part of the stock leading into the main body.
Forge yourself a steel band to reinforce it.
Also, any tips on clamping the stock given it’s lovely shape?
Drywall screw.
Thank Fourscore. Dad never really gave me any guns as a kid, but I got to shoot all of his. He had a Mauser .308 custom built by a gun smith in Munich when stationed there and when he got cancer it was gifted to me. I took a couple deer with it, but mostly it is a safe queen heirloom from the old man. I need to put some lead downrange with it soon.
There are a lot of ways to enjoy owning a gun. The memories are part of that joy.
I’ve said many times that my Dad sits with me in the deer stand. Memories…