A True .22 Story

Flattop5

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A True .22 Story

Me and my friend Kenny were about 14 years old when we developed a "funny" habit of wrapping live .22 bullets
in toilet paper and then lighting the toilet paper on fire. In about 4 minutes: BANG!

One time we put a toilet-paper-wrapped, live .22 bullet in a cardboard tea box and lit the paper. After 6 or 7 minutes it did not explode. So Kenny walked over to it to see what was up. He reached down to pick up the box and BANG! the bullet exploded. Kenny yelped and jumped upwards about 3 feet. At first I thought Kenny was just joking around. But no, a brass fragment from the shell casing had penetrated his hand. He was bleeding badly. My father drove Kenny to the hospital and he got 8 stitches between his thumb and forefinger.

How ironic: years later Kenny would commit suicide with a .22 pistol due to bad health (his colon had been removed and he hated that).

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I thinl we all did stupid things when we were young. My friends and I would take empty CO2 cartridges and fill them with match heads. Usually took about 7 of those match paper holders to fill one. Then we'd stck one full lentgh match in the hole and light it. That CO2 cartridge literally took off like a rocket and was so fast we couldn't track where it went.
 
I thinl we all did stupid things when we were young. My friends and I would take empty CO2 cartridges and fill them with match heads. Usually took about 7 of those match paper holders to fill one. Then we'd stck one full lentgh match in the hole and light it. That CO2 cartridge literally took off like a rocket and was so fast we couldn't track where it went.

At first I thought we grew up together! We made lots of matchhead bombs. Usually by crimping the ends of a piece of copper tubing and poking a hole in the middle for a fuse.

About 22's. One kid, Calvin, scrounged a worn out 22 rifle somewhere. The rifle wouldn't cock, so he would tap the back of the bolt with pliers to make it go off. I was surprised how well he could hit street lights doing that. Garbage cans were easy for him to hit.
 
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Slingshot pegging 22LR rounds into a cement wall. We were at least smart enough to get behind some cover. :P

Oh we weren't that smart. One of us would straddle a large rock and another would shoot a live 22 cartridge at the rock using out Wrist Rockets. When the shell went off, you had to show no reaction or be deemed a coward. Seven stages past dumb.
 
Back in the day (WAAAY back), we'd steal a handful of .22s from my friends brother. Then we'd go out in the street and smack them with a hammer.! Really cool, until my friend Mark got a little piece of brass in his cheek. We quit the practice then and there; even as youngsters realized Mark could have been blinded.:eek:
 
CAN'T ONE-UP YA

Geez & I thought what my friends & I used to do was daring. In the freezing temps of NE Ohio (Independence), out in the woods we'd huddle around a fire in a 50 gal. drum. It was a silent understanding one of us would throw a .22 LR cartridge in the fire. Ehh! A little pop, some burning embers would jump around, but that was it. Pretty anti-climatic story after reading about you guys!
Hank M.
 
Insert .22 LR into medium fresh cow pie. Shoot at head of cartridge. Definitely standing too close. Long bicycle ride home, trying to come up with a believable story.
 
When I was 5 my dad was buying a couple boxes of 22s at the hardware store. The clerk wrapped them up in brown paper and tied with string as was the custom back then. When we got home dad told me to bring the bullets. I was carrying them like they were nitro, so dad gives me lesson on technical points of 22 ammo. We sat on curb and he cut the string with his pocket knife and opened up a box. With his pocket knife as pointer he showed me bullet, case and explained how firing pin had to hit the rim for the cartridge to ignite. To drive this home he flicked the 22 cartridge out into the street. Bam, it went of on contact, end of ammo seminar.
Later when old enough to get into trouble me and buddies would wear out throwing 22s on concrete and I don’t think we ever got one to go off.
We did have one kid who put a 45acp in knot on peach tree and shot with a BB gun. He finally hit primer and case came back and hit him in face.
 
My best friend and I, as boys, took my .22 rifle out in the desert and proceeded to put the butt in the ground and eyeball the barrel until it appeared to point straight up and then fire it. The object was to see if the returning bullet would hit the ground where we could hear it and retrieve it.

Actually, we weren't THAT stupid. We took along a couple of metal garbage can lids to hold over our heads until we heard the bullet impact the ground....:eek: Some bullets hit the ground less than a couple of yards away.

John
 
Nothing with .22 bullets but Black Cat fire crackers inserted into Apple's from the neighbors Apple tree. Light fuse and throw. Apple grenades. We played a lot of war in the neighborhood. All our dad's were WWII vets. No fircrackers! Dirt clods worked against the "enemy"
 
When I was 5 or 6, the neighbor kid was packing firecracker powder into a coke bottle while seated next to a sliding glass door.

Yep, he blew off 3 or 4 fingers and was cut head to toe and covered in blood.

I used to shoot at golf balls soon after I got my first .22s--a 10/22 and a Mk. 1. I stopped when a golf ball ricocheted off a concrete wall and whacked me too close to home, if you know what I mean. At least I didn't drop my pistol, lol.
 
I am sure glad that I did not know any of you.. you guys are scary....


Hah! I left out the worse stuff.

Such as:

When we were maybe 16 years old, circa 1979, we built a pipe bomb and, without going into detail, we were both lucky it didn't kill us or maim us. Man, that thing was LOUD! Scares me to think about it today. Jeepers. All I remember really is an orange fireball.


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