I'm wondering if you (how many of us) got into guns due to your Parents introducing it to you when you were very young. Remember it can be anyone that inspired you.

For me.....my Father is the reason I have a very good interest and ongoing gumption to learn about firearms and safely handling them. The things he taught me will forever be en-grained in my mind.

Thanks Everyone who has posted and voted.

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YouJustCantSeeMeLaughingIsAll

My father grew up in rural Eastern North Carolina during the Great Depression. He was one of 8 kids and the family was poor. He worked when he could, chopping tobacco and took what little he made and bought .22's and shotgun shells. He turned that into squirrel, rabbits and other small game to feed the family. So, he grew up hunting for food and was a fine shot. He taught me to shoot and bought me a .22 rifle for Christmas when I was 10. My mother grew up in rural Georgia in a family of hunters, shooters and lawmen. She considered guns and shooting normal for any man to be doing. They were great parents and encouraged me to shoot and hunt.

Both.
Dad Army pistol team.
2 Uncle's (Mom's side) career Navy, one on the the Navy squad.

I actually have to give my mom the credit. Her father was a minister during the depression and helped keep the family fed with a little Iver Johnson single barrel .410 (which I now have). He taught my mom to shoot with a Daisy BB gun which she used to teach me and my brother.

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Rick, W0FG
CTR2 68-72

My father was always involved in bullseye shooting, went out to Camp Perry several times, was president and was on the executive and building committees of his gun club, and he'd take us to the range on Saturdays and let us shoot when he was finished. I recall helping at and doing some shooting at PPC matches.

He's still very involved with his shooting and gun club, and now at almost 80, shoots every day except Tuesdays when they go bowling.

Here he is, giving my son pointers.

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Mostly the culprit was TV, as my parents don't own guns. When I was about ten or so I asked me grandfather what I had to do to have a gun when I was older. He gave me the best advice I have ever received. He told me to stay away from trouble, alcohol, drugs, stealing, and people who do those things. He also told me to get a good job work hard and keep it.
At age 35 I have never been drunk, high or in trouble, and about the only friends I have are shooters too.
Sorry to give a long answer to a short question but I thought it pertinent.
Anyway It was my uncle who first took me shooting at age fifteen, but the truth is I was hooked by the Lone Ranger years earlier. John

The gentilman i moved next door to got me started. My dad and i hunted together, he was of the mind that one or maybe two gun's where enough. He now likes to come over and look around as he calls it.


one more thing, he has a very nice collection of browning A5's

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George Jamison

My dad died Sept. '08. The guns in the backround of that B&W picture, minus one maybe, are in my safe now. As is his Redhawk. He got into guns and hunting on his own. Then he got me into guns and we'd go shooting all the time. He really encouraged it. When we'd go all night lantern cat fishing when I was a kid he was unarmed but my Single Six was always on me loaded.

No one in my family had any interest in guns or hunting. My early exposure came from family friends and neighbors who were nice enough to tolerate a kid around. My Dad was a good sport though, and would take me out in the woods, let me shoot etc.

My Father hunted with one of those Auto 5's and I shot it as well. He gave me an Ithica Model 37 12g when I was 11 which is when I got my hunting license, although I was shooting and learning reloading many different kinds of Ammo (30-06, 30-30, 38 special, 45 auto, 12g shotgun) at around 7.

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YouJustCantSeeMeLaughingIsAll

Dad wasn't a shooter (but he didn't mind guns). Mom hated guns. One of my older brothers (when I was about 5 y/o) had a .22 lr rifle that he got caught mis-using (shooting at a swing set in the back yard), so that ceased firarms bieing in the house from that point until much later.

I think I was born fascinated with guns, and looked at the few that friends and relatives had or read all that I could about firearms. My Dad did buy a bb gun, that I was allowed supervised use of, when I was about 12 y/o.

At the age of 15 y/o my cousin was attending a Hunter Safety course, and needed another person to fill in the minimum enrollment needed for the course to be run. He contacted me. I asked Dad if it was OK for me to attend. He and Mom had a discussion, and Dad persuaded Mom that since we lived in Oregon, and guns were in about half the households, I should at least get some safety training just in case I handled someone elses gun. I not only got a 100% in the course, I was invited by the instructor to join his Explorer Post - which specialized in hunting, fishing, camping and related outdoor activities. The passion and training really begins there.

Once in the Explorer Post, Dad bought "himself" a semi-auto .22 rifle (Mom couldn't object, too much, with Dad getting a gun for himself), but for my use - with the caveat that I had to go a year without any firearm mishaps before I could have one of my own. I made it the year plus. I don't think Dad fired a single round from that gun.

For my 17th birthday, Mom and Dad gave me a sporterized 03A3 Springfield.

So, Walt Labaugh, retired SF 1SG, Distinguished Rifle and Pistol, the Hunter Safety Instructor and Explorer Post Leader, gets the credit for the bulk, but it may not have happened if Dad hadn't been in my corner.

IIRC,
Both my Mom and Dad were pretty handy with a sidearm or long gun.

My Daughter and SIL are both active shooters and are training their boys as well.
Our Son and his wife shoot (DIL is an outstanding shot) and are working with their sons shooting skills up on the high plains...

Ya gotta teach them boys to ride, rope, shoot and tell the truth.

Su Amigo,
Dave

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"IN GOD WE TRUST"

My dad had an influence but to be honest I don't know who or what pushed me into the deep end.

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SC Army National Guard

I had guns in my genes. I can recall when I was 5 or 6 sneaking up to the attaic to play with the M-1 Carbine my old man brought back from WWII, my mother said when she was little she was lucky enough to know one of her great-grandmothers, said she had the reputation of being a good shot. Had my share of cap pistols. First proper introduction to firearms was in Boy Scout Camp when I was 13.

Actually it was MY father, not Your father.

It was my mother, but completely inadvertently.

One night we were watching "The Man from UNCLE" and she said, "Look at that funny looking gun!"

She's regretted that comment for the last 40+ years...

Well I was lucky as everyone on both sides my family had guns and hunted. My mother would even hunt deer with dad. I belive I would have got into guns without the folks, but dad was a gunman too. No he didnt collect as heavy as me, but he always kept the basics, a handgun, 22 rifle, shotgun and several centerfire hunting rifles since he was young too.

My dad was in the army, but never did anything else with guns - my family was essentially gun free growing up. All except for my grandfather, who lived up in Louisville, KY. He had a bunch of rifles and a couple of handguns and I got to stay up there with him sometimes. He and I were close and I think he wanted me to have his guns when he died - that's what my grandmother said. So, I can say that my grandfather was the one who showed me his guns as a kid, and told me stories about hunting rabbits. I still have every one of those guns and each time I see one I think of him. My 13-year old son loves shooting them and I will pass them on to him some day.

B

I went with my father in the morning darkness to run a trap line before I was old enough to attend school. He also took me fishing and hunting and had me take a NRA safe hunting course at about age nine. My mother was always supportive of what we did and then last but not least the Marine Corp added the final polish to the equation.

Neither of my parents were interested in guns, and my kids aren't either. I'm a mutant.

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VIVERE MILITARE EST

My dad was a hunter but not a shooter. He was a depression era guy and thought anything beyond sighting in for hunting season was a waste of ammo. He tolerated my queerness for guns but didn't really approve of my target practice as a teenager. As a kid I read every gun magazine I could get my hands on and actually wore out several Shooter"s Bibles. He let me buy my first 22 when I was 13 but I used my own money for the gun and subsequent ammo. I shot a lot of shorts through that old Mossberg as they were less than fifty cents a box. I saved the long rifle 22s for rabbits and such.

I Think it might be genetic. A picture of my maternal grandfather follows. He was a trendy guy carrying a semi-auto early in the 20th century. The photo was taken prior to 1920 in South Dakota. He died before I was born but I like to think he might have been my mentor for firearms.

My late father bought me my first gun, a Crosman pellet rifle, and a couple after that. I was 12 when I got the first one.

The die was cast a lot earlier. At four I used to sit on the couch with my grandfather and watch TV westerns. Grandpa loved them and I was quite impressed myself. Roy Rogers and Sky King were mentioned earlier but there were lots of other, more obscure, westerns on TV in the early 1950s. We watched one after another and I started lobbying for a six shooter at around age six. Fired my first shot from an air pistol at that age and had to wait entirely too long to fire the next one.

Dad was a hunter not a shooter but he didn't object very often when my brother and I wanted the car to go to the range.

My Dad hunted whitetail and duck, but didn't shoot much otherwise. But he got me into guns with a lapse of judgment. One day in '56, my father and one of my uncles were shooting my dad's new 12 ga 11-48 behind my grandfather's house. It was the first brand new gun my father had ever purchased. I wanted to shoot the gun and kept pestering. Brat, would be the technical term. Finally my father gave in and let me give it a try. I couldn't hold up the 30" bbl, so my father held the forend while I pointed it in the general direction of a yellow lard can and pulled the trigger.

The recoil knocked me on my butt and I was hooked for life! It was the original "E Ticket" ride.

It didn't work out so well for my Dad, however. My Mother was doing dishes and happened to be looking out the kitchen window when this little physics lesson was taking place. I do believe they may have discussed the matter later.

The conversation must have made an impression on my father. In '63, when Dad and I were going over the Shooter's Bible for the umteenth time looking for my first deer rifle, I said that I was leaning toward a Marlin 336 in 35 Rem. Dad's eyes bulged out and he said "God no, it kicks too much". I ended up with a 243 Win.

For me it was my Mother. On my 10th birthday I woke up with a kite string tied to my big toe. In the process of rewinding that kite string I found packages of bb's, targets, and finally after 2 full rolls of kite string, a Daisy BB gun. Mom also spent time with me making sure that I knew the Rules and did a bit of shooting with me. For 2 years that Daisy and I were nearely inseperable. Then on my 12th birthday I woke up with a "clue" taped to my forehead and moved on to Aurora model racing cars. One thing about my Mom, she made my birthdays very interesting. She also thought it was a total hoot that I was such a sound sleeper.

My Dad let me start shooting .22's when I was about six and bought me my first .22 at the age of eight. The very first thing that he taught me was gun safety. We shot a lot of shorts at targets backed by driftwood on sandbars on the Cimarron River. As someone else stated, we saved the longs and long rifles for game. We had little money but I wouldn't trade my young years for all the electronic games the youngsters now have.

My parents did not have guns, nor diid my mother even want us to have a BB gun.
Once I turned 18 I bought a Remington 581 .22 bolt action.
Then came the handguns at 21.
My children were all brought up to respect and use firearms.
My son hunts duck with his mother and everything else with me.

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Memory of Randy Freas-Rimfired

Dad Colt Bullseye gun



Moms, Rugur



DAD'S winchester 53D is gone, but, he did help me to buy this BAS

He's the guy with the snazzy white sneakers and blue ear protection on the right.We go back a ways.

D.G.

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Grandfather,he helped feed the family in Quebec during the depression so it was rather normal for him to stick a gun in my hands.

I went my own ways with firearms,but I still hold the notion that reason #1 to have a gun is the ability to fend for yourself if it comes down to it.

Combine that with a good knife,some forest and you can be pretty happy if need be.

Both of my parents. I've been around guns for a vvery long time.

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Don't look, reload and shoot!

I don't think my mom or dad every touched a gun.

It was Boy Scouts that did it.

While there were guns in my home growing up, I was never allowed to shoot them. I got my introduction to shooting at Scout Camp, 1962, in Berien Springs (Sp?) Michigan. My folks gave me $20.00 spending money, which was all spent (including some money I had myself) at the rifle range, at a penny a round. That was a fun week!
I still have my Maternal Grand Father's Nickel .38 S&W caliber Victor which he used before WW II as a Railroad Detective for the EJ&E Railroad, as well as my Fraternal Grandfather's Trapdoor Springfield, my Dad's old Victory Model, which served as his service revolver for many years, and his single shot Springfield Shotgun. My Dad's Dad died at age 88 when he was only 8 years old. Dad died at 78 in 1991 (a few months shy of my 41st. birthday). Hope I live that long! -Ed.

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Shoot the CPU, not the monitor

I learned to shoot in the Boy Scouts. We used to train with .22 rifles at the indoor range under the cafeteria at the local high school (hmm... wonder if -that- happens any more...)

My mom never handled a gun, my dad was an Army Infantry vet from WWII, but wasn't interested in that sort of stuff after he got out of the military. They weren't particularly gun-adverse though; I had my great-uncle's M1917 "American Enfield" mounted over my bed for my whole childhood. I used to take it apart and put it back together all the time. If someone gave me one today, 40-something years later, I think I could still field strip it and put it back together.

The obvious answer would be my dad. He had an interest in shooting and historic firearms that my brothers and I inherited at a young age. In reality, I'd have to give most of the credit to my mother, who was pretty much ambivalent about guns. I'm sure she thought my dad and my brothers and I were all basically lunatics, but I never heard a word of protest when yet another new gun would walk in the door.

We grew up with parents that were shooters. Dad, a Marine would start combat matches where we were stationed. Last hitch was North San Diego county, just south of Pendleton. They ran the Oceanside Combat Pistol League for over twenty years. In the early eighties mom said "wouldn't this be fun using the cowboy guns?". This picture is from the very first cowboy shoot for what is now SASS. I had hair back then, that is me next to mom, who out shot me on a regular basis. It hurts when you tell them she is the church organist for the base. Most of the Marines married on Pendleton in the 80-90's, probably had her for their music!

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Eric

Really Awesome stories Everyone !!!!!!!!

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YouJustCantSeeMeLaughingIsAll

My wife bought me my first gun as a wedding present.

In my case it was my Mom. My Dad went along with the idea, But it was my mother that encouraged me to shoot since she could see how much I enjoyed it. She would even try out my new guns. All but my first S&W 629. She is now 78 and still likes to check out my newest additions.

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He who angers you,controls you

My dad was raised in the depression and was in the Army Air Corps in WWII. As a kid I remember a nickle plated 45 ACP. I think it was of Argentine manufacture, but it was stolen along with a damascus steel double that belonged to his father.

TV westerns got me interested in guns. My son picked it up from me and my 6 year old grandson is a good shot with his Cricket 22. I'll have the granddaughter out shooting in a couple of years.

My Father gave me a Red Ryder BB gun when I was 10 years old. God willing, I'll be 69 next month and I haven't stopped shooting since he gave it to me.

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I shoot, therefore I am.

Got to carry my Daisy pump BB gun pheasant hunting when I was 10. Graduated to carrying a Mossberg 16 ga. bolt action with one shell in the chamber when I was 12. At 13 got to carry the Mossberg with one in the chamber and two in the mag. My dad was a great teacher and my best friend. I miss him alot.

Neither really. Around my house growing up firearms were just tools. By the time I came along Dad had a Winchester 97 and a Winchester 67. The 97 had belonged to my Grandfather and the 67 to my Great Grandfather. At my uncles farms there was always a shotgun behind a door somewhere and a box of shells on top of the refrigerator.

When I bought my second shotgun, a Pre WW1 British sidelock sxs, dad asked my why in the world I thought I needed a second shotgun. After all, I had a good 20 ga SXS I bought with hay bailing money when I was 13.

Maj Bierbaum in Jr ROTC in high school. Then The Job got me hooked for life.

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Romans 13:3 & 4

Mostly Mom, but I don't think it was intentional. According to the Oklahoma National Guard, Dad was "Expert", but he had little interest in guns. Not sure why, as his father, who is still living, hunted and has several guns. I bought several BB guns when I was young, but what I really wanted was the Colt Lightning that was in Mom's closet. It had been her Grandfather's, brought to the Oklahoma Territory from Arkansas in 1901. Dad came home one day with a bolt action Mossberg .410 and gave it to Mom. He said it was for protection, as we lived in the middle of nowhere and he was gone Monday through Friday. As with the Colt, I was shown how it worked, and how to safely handle it, but wasn't allowed to shoot it. Finally I joined Explorer Scouts and got to shoot some real guns! At age 17 Mom went with me to K-Mart, where I paid for a Remington Apache 77 and she filled out the paperwork. A few months later, she gave me a used, but very nice, Remington 870 12 gauge, which was exactly what I asked for. Years later, she gave me the Colt Lightning, and her cousin gave me the Colt SAA and SxS 12 gauge that also came to Oklahoma with my Great Grandfather.

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Insert short witty words here

I learned to shoot from my Dad who was a WWII vet ( Navy Armed Guard on Merchant Marine ships...they ran the guns ) and my Uncle Sam ( really ) who was in the Army Air Service in WWI. They taught me to respect and love shooting. After my folks died my brothers found a box of letters my parents wrote each other during the war. It was highly censored and was reduced in size. It was called V mail. There was one letter that my Dad wrote from the Great Lakes Naval Training Station where he finally finished part of his training that did not involve shooting and then moved on to more gunnery training. His letter said " It really felt good to have a gun in my hands again ". I come by this honestly. When I read his letters the things he missed most about being away were my mother , his horse, and missing another hunting season. Not sure I got those in the right order.

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I like Ike.

My first gun experience was shooting a crossman bb gun in the backyard with dad and learning how to safely handle a firearm I promptly took it out of the closet without permission and shot out a window on our old station wagon by accident. After a pretty decent whooping I got the hint that Safety was number 1. My parents also owned a pizzeria in a bad part of milwaukee so guns were an everyday thing. My dad carried a S&W 4506 and kept a model 29 under the counter, mom had a PPK in .380 and a .45lc derringer in the deposit bag. Now my grandfather on moms side came to this country from Italy with $20, a rigging knife and a colt 38, which I called the "cowboy" gun when I was 8. The look on my moms face when she walked in and saw me and Gpa playing cops and robbers and her 8yo running around with an unloaded colt was priceless. First handgun I ever shot was dads M-29 knocked me clean on my behind but blew the heck out of the milk jug I was aiming at.

...owned a Colt 1903 which he kept strapped to the steering column of his Buick back in the 1930's when he traveled out in the Wild West. He told two stories that I remember. He and a buddy were camping out in No. CA. Dad woke up and looked over at his pal who was in a sleeping bag. Coiled next to his head was a rattlesnake. Dad said it was a cool morning, so the snake wasn't so lively. Dad slowly got out of his bag, and stalked over to his pal...carefully aimed his Colt and shot the snake. Needless to say, his buddy bolted out of the bag, thinking Dad was trying to kill him. The dead rattler told the real story.
Another time, in Nevada, Dad drove over a hill in the middle of nowhere and saw two cars below blocking the roadway. With highway robbery still a big thing, he drew his Colt, accelerated off the road into the sand, fired two shots into the air and drove around the cars and onto the roadway again. He was convinced they were indeed highwaymen.

In the '60's, Dad gave me the Colt, bought me a Mossberg 185K and later a Remington 11-48. My sister now has the Colt and my nephew the 11-48. I've gotten my son-in-law, brother-in-law and wife into gun ownership and shooting.

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Term limits!

Television was the first influence. Watching all the TV westerns and cop shows in the late 50s and early 60s. Dad wasn't a hunter, but in 1960 he joined NRA to get a 1903A3. He worked at Red River Arsenal, and was able to pick the one he wanted. He trained with one in WWII, and had a lot of respect for the old Springfield. Mom didn't like guns, since a friend of theirs accidently killed himself. I finally got a Daisy BB gun when I was 11. Then a single shot H&R 20ga. when I was 13. Then, when I was 21, I worked with a fella, who was really into guns. He taught me about pistols and the politics of firearms. It was his influence that made me join NRA, and subscribe to G&A, and Shooting Times. He moved away, after little more than a year later. Mack (Butch) Standridge, if you're out there somewhere, thanks. I sure would like to hear from you.

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Wayne
Torn & Frayed

Heck, just being a boy is all it takes.
Sonnytoo

It were my brothers who introduced me to guns.
They were quite keen on 10 meter shooting with targetrifles in the nineteen-sixties at the local club. They took me along and let me shoot at an age of 7-8. That was not really allowed here, but it gave me the bug! The local club had to stop because the permit for the range was not prolonged, sad to tell you, so I could not shoot there when I was at the legal age (16)....
Later on, my brother-in-law took up hunting and when I went to the range with him, I got introduced to black-powder shooting. From then on, I spend lots of time at the range!

My father never was into guns, shooting-wise, but he loved to take part in hunting as a 'driver'. Excuse me please, that I don't know the right term in English; ie he walked the fields with a stick to disturb the animals for the hunters.
My grandfather from mother's side was a farmer and had a Belgian 9MM Flobert "rifle".
He had shotshells and those little 'acorns'.
One of the shotshells ruined an antique 'cabinet'door (a fancy walnut cupboard) when my grandfather wanted to release the hammer and it slipped, in the late nineteen-thirties.
According to my mother all pigeons he shot at with that gun stayed put where they were and only frowned a bit

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anton