Sentimental

I believe that some of the best guns we get may not be guns that we pick ourselves, but rather, guns that are passed on to us. Often, these guns hold a special value when coming from friends or family members. Whether it be a gun you grew up shooting, and that was a significant part of your marksmanship journey, or one that belonged to someone who holds substantial meaning in your life. Whatever the reason, I hope that each of you gets the opportunity to own one of these guns. And today, I want to mention one of mine. 

My grandfather was an incredibly interesting man. A man who grew up poor, lived a rough life, and didn’t make a habit of small talk. Many of you may have someone like this in your life, but each of these individuals has a few things to make them unique. One of the things that made my grandfather unique was that he played a significant role in my shooting and hunting passion. The earliest of these was when I was a kid, I would sit on the couch or floor and watch the old western shows and movies with him. This is a practice I have continued in his absence. He would sit in his recliner with a bag of Trophy tobacco never out of reach, and I would have one of his old leather gun belts on with a Heritage Rough Rider in it (unloaded while not actually shooting). This was something that he and I frequently did for hours. We rarely spoke, unless he was getting ready to spoil the ending of a movie that I hadn’t seen, and that practice seemed to be something that brought the old man great joy. Those days are the core memories that my childhood was built on, and some of the ones I look back on the most. 

Later on in the years, despite his eyesight beginning to fail him, he would still come out to the range with us, always ready to tell us “how we were doing it wrong”. He passed on to me some of the lessons that I now pass on to those whom I teach, mostly regarding safety and not being a moron. He would always supervise us, ensuring that nobody got hurt, and if it looked like we were fresh out of challenges, he would throw out a new one. 

But there was an unfortunate time that came along, and that was when he began to not be able to come out for as long, not be able to shoot with us, and a time when he couldn’t do all the things I remember the monumental man being able to do. However, there is one thing he was able to do right up until the day he died, and that was to get folks riled up. A few years before he passed, we were having a family Christmas at my uncle’s house, when he stood up in front of the entire house and said, “Secret family meeting”. You might ask yourself, “Who is at these events that he couldn’t speak in front of?” And the answer is nobody. Everyone there was family, but the secret family meeting was not to include the entire family. The meeting was always to be my grandfather, my uncle, and me. There were always others who thought they would try and get in on the meeting, but the old man was always quick to say, “I wasn’t talking to you”. Typically, when one of these coveted meetings was being held, there was nothing of consequence being discussed; it just meant that he had grown tired of all the people and chatter, and that he wanted to separate himself. But that was part of what made it so fun. We would be in the basement chatting about shooting, fishing, the state of the world, or just whatever was on his mind, but this left everyone else isolated from the great secrets being concealed mere feet from them. But this day the meeting was different. We made it into the basement, and my grandfather told my uncle to “go get it”. I had no clue what that “it” was. A moment later, my uncle emerges from a room with a gun I had never seen before. It was a side-by-side shotgun. I thought I had seen all of his guns before, but this was one I did not recognize. He begins to tell me about the gun. It was a Fox Model B chambered for 20 gauge. This was the gun that many years ago my grandmother had bought and then given to my grandfather on their wedding day. He proceeded to hunt and shoot that gun for many years. He and my uncle have many fond memories and tales of that gun being all over the land. He then said to me ” I want this to be yours, but I have a few rules that you will obey. You will take care of this gun, you will never loan it to anyone, and you will finally replace that shoulder-mounted cannon you like to carry now”. That “shoulder-mounted cannon” that he was referring to was my Remington 870 Super Magnum, which was the first gun I ever purchased with my own money at the ripe old age of 12. I agreed to the rules and stared in awe at what would become one of the most fantastic hunting companions I ever had. 

Now there was some turmoil after this. I have one brother, and my mother was furious that my grandfather would give me such a gift, but had nothing to give my brother. Did it bother me? Absolutely not. I had just received one of the best gifts I had ever been given, and I definitely was not thinking about anyone else. I could not have been any happier. My uncle had given me some 20-gauge ammo, since that was the first 20 ammo I had. As soon as the weather began to warm up, I was out in the field with some buddies and a trap thrower, becoming acquainted with my new partner. The first outing I had was nothing short of fantastic. I couldn’t have been any happier with the performance. I spent that spring and summer shooting that gun as much as possible, and when the fall came around, it was time to go afield. I shot numerous pheasants that first year, and one of those days was packed full of shooting. We had a pheasant hunt in the morning, a trap shoot in the afternoon, and a pigeon shoot in the evening. Unfortunately, while shooting pigeons that evening, I swung the gun, pulled the trigger, and the forend rattled in my hand. I pulled my hand away from the forend, and I was holding a screw that had been sheared in half. I had shot over 300 rounds that day so I couldn’t be too upset. I took some tape that I had with me and taped the forend back to the barrel for the rest of the hunt. I had made the rookie mistake of not bringing a backup, a mistake I avoid now.

I have hunted for numerous years with that old Fox, and aside from the forend screw, it has never given me a minute’s trouble. I have hunted dove, pigeon, pheasant, quail, and chukar. After some time had passed, I decided that I shouldn’t wear that gun out. So I went and bought a CZ Drake in 28-gauge to use as a gun in rotation with the Fox. They both get hunted equally, only to keep too much wear off the Fox. 

And now my mission is to keep the old man’s spirit alive. I remember his face and how happy he was when I showed him the first picture of a successful hunt with his old shotgun. And I know that even though he is gone now, he would still be elated to know that I have kept using the gun that meant so much to him. I plan to keep hunting with this gun until it falls apart, and when it does, I will rebuild it and start over again.