I wrote and posted this back in 2016,
I bought a 19-5 today.
All the memories of my past sins came rushing back.
I have to make this confession to y'all, I have engaged in torture, mutilation and yes even MURDER.

As with all serial sadists, I started at a young age, and was brought into it by a older man.
I was in 7th grade, junior high in AZ in the 70's, my best friends dad worked vice for Pima County SO.
Even at that young an age, I was ate up with guns, I would do anything to shoot, hold or even look at different ones.
I had a J C Higgins double nine and 22 shells cost money, so my buddy's dad knew he could hook me.
He started me off small, loading 38's for his deputies to practice with.
A penny a round he paid me to load wadcutters with a Lee die set, a powder scoop and a mallet.
Then the horror started.
Remember, this was another age, one where Bill Jordan was the Jerry Miculek of the time.
Everyone on the dept wanted to be like Bill, and to be like Bill you need Jordan grips.
He started me off with murder right away, I killed two or three sets of beautiful Goncalo Alves just to practice my wicked ways.
I moved from destruction to mere mutilation, sanding down the checkering, rounding the beautifully cut butts, even....carving in finger grooves on some ( I shudder as I type this)

I was paid 5.00 a set,yes, it was a pittance for the butchery I visited upon them, but he would bring boxes home from the sheriffs office for me to work my sadistic magic on.
I mutalated more magnas in my life than I ever want to remember.

Please forgive me, I was young and stupid.

I have tried to atone for my sins, I readily give a home to any wayward S&W that is unloved, or unwanted. I have even worked for S&W, 1st as a manager of one of their ill fated retail stores ( believe me, that was torture), then as a RSM until the great purge in 2001.
I know no matter what I do, I will never wash away the sins I committed.

Most of those grips were probably thrown away during the great migration move to Pachmyers in the early 80's, but if you ever run across a set in southern AZ, tell them I am sorry for what I did.

Now that I have made my confession, maybe I can sleep at night.
I have been plagued for years with nightmares of all those wonderful silver or brass S&W grip medallions, sanded to smooth polished discs, chasing me down the street screaming "WHY"

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“Cogito, ergo sum armatus