I remember when I was 7 my Dad and his friend told me to sit down (shoot from the knee) as they were behind me. They told me to stare at the center of the target and they were going to hand me the rifle (so I was not to look back at them). Dad handed me the rifle loaded and so I lined up and squeeeeeeeeeezed one off, the gun was unloaded and I flinched. Once they brought this to my attention (of course I knew what I had done) Dad taught me to squeeze without flinching in a series of these kinds shots, surprising me with a loaded or unloaded gun. Soon after that day of about 100 shots I was an expert shot with that rifle. After that we went on to practice with rolling bouncing targets made from the 3/4" thick cutouts that were saved from those round bathroom sink counters. You can really get good that way and it's fun.

They also used to send me into the thickest and I mean thickest briar bushes they could find to put up game, rabbits, grouse, pheasant and we even had around 7 beagles hunting at the same time. Some of these bushes we're so thick I could get in but then I would get stuck and really get P/O'ed LOL....one time I shot 3 rabbits in one of those briar patches that grow like a giant tent. They worked me hard at a young age, it was tough but had it's rewards. I used to come out all scratched up and bloody from briar cuts and rabbit guts. LOL

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YouJustCantSeeMeLaughingIsAll

My dad, being the competitive pistol shooter, taught me from the gitgo about sight picture, trigger squeeze, breathing, etc., from the time I could see over the shooting bench. He's still giving me tips.

I was so young I cant recall the first time my dad had me shoot. I remember him throwing bottels in the air teaching me aeiral shooting with a .22 lr winchester model 61. Dad was a good shot with anything.
I recall the first shotgun he bought me was a 20 gauge single barrel iver johnson. I recall him haveing a 98 K mauser from the war that he roughly cut down and installed a lyman peep on. My mother also hunted. At a very early age I had access to his 22lr., probley at 7 years old. However he did lock up his handgun on me.

You're all very fortunate to have had such a great training experience with your fathers. Not only did it give you a very solid foundation on which to build your shooting skills, but you have these great memories of a meaningful bonding experience.

I only wish I had been so lucky. Not to denigrate my Father in any way...but I had no such experience. From my earliest recollections, there were various guns available around our house. My Father never once sat me down and explained the dangers and/or value of these firearms, nor did I receive the slightest instruction in their use. I believe this was mostly due to my Mother's beliefs...I think it was a side-effect of her Father's suicide when she was 9 years old. (I kept my distance from the guns not because of any firearm-specific instruction, but rather from an overall respect for my Father's possessions, and a general desire to not incur his disfavor.)

My Father had served in the Army in WWII, landed at Normandy on D-Day, participated in the Battle of the Bulge, etc...and had always held much stock in military service. My older brother enlisted in the Army during the Vietnam war. So, I left home and joined the military at 17 years of age. That was my first experience with firearms, and I recall being very confused and not at all confident. I managed to qualify, though I still wonder how.

In any case, it wasn't until years later that I developed my own interest in firearms, much to my Mother's chagrin (I think she has finally gotten over it!) I pretty much trained myself, which explains my mediocre skills. However, it was enough for me to consistently shoot expert thereafter (the U.S.A.F. has no "Marksman" designation) and I always ended up assisting the instructor during qualification training sessions. I also broke the base record for M-16 disassembly (I missed the record on reassembly though...which would possibly be the more useful skill).

My point in all of this is that I only wish I had had that early training that would have established the foundation I had lacked. Many of my current friends have been shooting since they were 7 or 8, and were already highly proficient by their teens. By contrast, I had never owned or fired my own gun until I was 24. I've been playing "catch-up" ever since.

Tim

I am sorry to hear that Bullzaye but you have seemed to break through that area of neglect (no one is perfect) and have managed to do it yourself...somehow I think you have an important trait one that we may not have. Thanks for the stories everyone I hope you have a Great Evening.

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YouJustCantSeeMeLaughingIsAll

Bullzeye, I probley had several uncles in your dads same outfit. It wasnt only my dad that taught me, but several of my uncles too. I had like 9 of them in world war two, if you can belive that! I was right at 5 years old when most of my family came home in a very short time frame and remember it well. A few of them didnt talk much about the war, but most of them were the opposite and loved guns. Guess the war and what they went through and seen affected the guys all different. I just was lucky in haveing a dad that liked guns and hunting. He even took some of my buddys along hunting with me that didnt have fathers.

My situation was a little different than most. My father was a fisherman, and had very little interest in guns of any kind. He was not against them, just had no interest. I was interested in guns as far back as I can remember, but what really turned me on was a book named "Lucian Cary on Guns". Along with some books on fishing, my dad ordered that one for me, probably to round out the order. I had the usual assortment of guns subsequently, but that book got me really hooked on guns, far more so than friends, whose fathers took them hunting.

My father was never taught to shoot and/or handle firearms.

My maternal grandfather was an avid hunter and fisherman. He started me in these activities and taught me about shotguns.

I learned on my own (reading, observing and shooting with friends) about rifles and pistols.

My kids are/have-been learning from me. Same with my wife. Although her dad is a retired Army man, he served as a telephone technician and had no love for firearms.

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" I don't recall, senator."

My father never taught me much of anything, seemed to busy working two jobs to take care of 8 kids. I was exposed to the one firearm that we had, an old single shot winchester .22, by sneaking it out after being told not to touch it. We all know about telling kids NOT to do things...

I was fascinated by that rifle, I have no idea how many times I fiddled around with it when left alone at the farm... I loaded and unloaded it many times until that fateful day when I AD'd it through the ceiling of the living room!

I carefully covered the hole with toothpaste (The only thing I could find the same color!) and hid the rifle back where it was supposed to be... but my fascination was truly fueled now. I hung out at the neighbors and watched while they shot clay pigeons, till finally the dad asked me if I wanted to try... of course I did.

I went into the National Guards after dropping out of high school, and was really hooked then, qualifying Expert easily. From then on I bought, sold and traded over the years, then sold them all when my marriage went on the rocks as I couldnt trust my then-wife around them.

New wife now, so starting again on the old hobby! Picked a good one this time though, as she wants to go shooting with me any time I want to go!

Both of my parents were completive shooters...
Mom bullseye...Dad Bullseye and small bore
indoor iron sights/scope......and some high power....
I fondly remember going to Camp Smith, NY and
pulling targets in the 1950's (age 5) and waving
"Maggie's Drawers". Rich memories. I consider
myself very, very lucky.

More people should have this "American Experience".

Not my Dad, but my uncles and grown cousins. Many of my first cousins were close to my Dad's age, and they lived on farms and in small towns. My Dad had no objection to guns, but I don't know if he ever fired one, except maybe in WWII. He only owned one pistol, late in life, that his brother (who was police Chief in a small Tennessee town) gave him (a S&W model 10-5 that my son now owns). I started owning guns at age 10, and I bought my first gun myself when I was 13, at the hardware store/Texaco station in my Grandfather's hometown (it was a 12 gauge Remington Wingmaster, and I still have it). I hunted many rabbits and quail with that gun, and I have fond memories of those days and my kin, most of whom have passed away.

Buck

My grandfather was a gun nut, as well as my father.

My first experience with a gun was when I was four. Dad didn't want me getting into the guns when he wasn't around, so he took me out and put a 16ga single barrel to my shoulder and let me pull the trigger. I didn't want to have anything else to do with guns for a while- they'd hurt a boy!!!

When I was ten, I got my first .22 Winchester, because Dad thought that an air rifle or BB gun would not teach the proper respect of a real firearm. However, for the first year all he would let me shoot in it when he wasn't around were shotshells, and even then if I was able to buy them myself!

There were lots of coke bottles in the ditches, corn to hoe and grass to mow.

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Lost it all in a boat accident

My dad never did. He wasn't a hunter or shooter but was a great guy none the less. I had an Uncle that taught me and typing this brings a smile to my face because he was a great guy who has passed but got me into shooting on top of being a great friend and confidant.

That's a great story! Lucky it was "only" a .22! Good job improvising that repair. Did they ever discover the hole, or did you ever tell them?

Tim

I didnt have a dad growing up as he (runoft) when I was 4.so I taught myself on a old remington model4 rolling block 22.my grandpa would come over to the farm and shoot some.I remember him shooting a 25 auto to show my great uncle it worked and killing a snake with it. the i got to see him shoot a nickel colt 45 long colt he got in the 1920s and because it was a cowboy gun i wanted to fire it but wasnt allowed.I was impressed by that big ole gun.maybe thats why im a big bore fan now.great stories guys you were luckey to have a dad to be there and show you how to shoot and hunt.

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God save the SOUTH

Not a hunter myself, but the first gun I ever shot was my Grandpa's Lefever double barrel 20g. My Dad, Uncle, and Grandpa were out in our back field phesant hunting and they thought it would be funny to have me shoot a squirrel nest just about straight above me (it wasn't really straight above me but was but the gun was pointed pretty high). That thing kicked me and the first thing that hit the ground was back. They laughed and I brushed the dirt off...

Learned to shoot .22LR on my Dad's hi-standard.

My father lost his father in the depression. He had to feed the family.
He worked three days (11 years old) to help a man build a fence. There was no money. He was paid with a Win 06 .22. He shot pheasants (on the fly) for the family to eat. He told me sometimes he could only afford 1/2 of a box of shells.

He was a life long hunter and shooter. He took me along a 5 years old, then I got a pop gun, then a BB gun, then a single shot 410, then a 12 gauge with one shell. He always taught me to make the first shot count.

It was the worst day of my life when I lost my hunting buddy.

We had a garden that Mom and Dad maintained as a source of food. The rabbits used to eat the crops. Dad would take us out about dusk to "hunt" rabbits. Shine a flashlight looking for the eyes (orange, rabbit, green, cat). Spotlight the rabbit and start whistling (the whistling supposedly froze them), then blast them with the 16 gauge.

Not really hunting, but protecting the crops....

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Barry, youngest son of Claud

In my youth I went through a Daisy BB gun (lever action), a Crosman .22 pellet rifle (single shot), and finally a bolt action .22LR Remington with magazine. My first shooting experience was when I was alone at a young age and shot my dad's S&W model 17 through a bedroom window screen. Don't know if my dad ever found out, since he never mentioned the dirty gun or the hole in the screen. My dad took me along to hunt crows in the woods across the street with my Remington, but spoiled my fun by shooting all 4 crows we saw sitting on a branch. He made up for it the next day by letting me go alone - got 2 more crows and was very proud. My first REAL hunt was a trip with my dad to a cousin's farm to hunt pheasants. By that time I had acquired a 20ga Remington pump, which brought down a couple of pheasants - my first.

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Quoth the raven:
"Nevermore"

Dad taught me safety when I was about 12. Hunted shortly after-He sponsored a Boy Scout Rifle Team-evolved into Explorer Post Rifle Team-Earned the NRA qualification badges-NRA Distinguished Expert. Met my future wife while competing with her in college. So I guess in the long run my dad is responsible for my 33 year marriage-and my safe handling of firearms. Passed it all to my son and daughter-both are safe with firearms-Son now hunts terrorists.

He gave me a rifle when I was 12ish. It was a Remington bolt action, a 541 if I remember right, in .22 LR. It was fitted with a scope when I got it that was already mounted and bore sighted. I hated that rifle. It was too heavy for me and fit me poorly. The bolt was also stiff. I'd wanted a simple 10/22, but the Remington was what I got. I think it still lives in my mother's closet. My father never took me to shoot, he simply provided a rifle, and I took NRA small bore classes as the local civic center. I think my father was a member of the same sportsman's club that I was in later years, but I never saw him there, and I honestly don't know. He never liked handguns and offered no real advice or any such about them.

I recall going along for groundhogs at an early age (single digits). Dad even sighted in on one and as he held the rifle he let me reach up and pull the trigger....just once. I know, I know...

Later on after I went through hunter's safety and got my first license we hunted squirrels alot. My Dad's older brother also took me hunting several times. I remember using my Dad's single-shot Savage .22 Hornet rifle one summer for groundhogs with him. I shot a chuck that was pretty far out for a fixed 4x Weaver, at least in my 12-13 year old mind. Dad and Mom had some guests over later in the week and the male half of the couple pulled me aside and told me that my Dad was bragging about my shot. My head never retruned to its normal size.

Anyway, Dad always made time to take me hunting, especially during high school when my group of friends was questionable at some points. I know this is getting long...but I can never pay him back for that.

Dad bought me a pellet rifle when I was 10. It was the only gun we ever had at home. I practiced all day shooting at bottle caps and tin cans. Then I joined the cadets and that is where I really learned to shoot competitively. Now I shoot Palma competitions. As for hunting, it is all self taught. I remember going duck hunting for the first time. I shot two boxes of shells in the morning and walked away with no ducks. The next weekend same thing, two boxes of shell and no ducks. We decided to go for the afternoon pass. I had shot about half a box of shells when three ducks were coming straight at me. I shoot for the first duck and the third one comes down. That my friends, is when I learned to lead.
I have two children a boy and a girl, I made sure that they both learned to shoot at the age of 9. They love it.

I'm the only son with 3 sisters, and tho' I don't know what, if any difference that made, my dad had all of us out hunting and fishing as early as he could. I'm second oldest, and began going along on hunting trips since I was 4 or 5. Be it at a public duck hunting island, public fields for upland birds or plain deer hunting camping trips I was allowed to belong. My dad taught me to shoot a BB-gun whem I was 5 or 6, and gave me my first gun, a 410, a year or so later. He would take me on deer trips to our coast, and I reckon I badgered him enough that he'd let me shoot one of those pine squirrels. AFTER he was sure there were no bucks around. When I was about 7 he introduced me to deer rifles, starting with an old .32 Special he had from his grandfather, made in 1901. I got along well with that weapon, and at age 8 he allowed me to hunt deer with him (after I passed the Hunter's Safety test.) This was on one of our week long trips a couple hundred miles from home. No deer that year, but many afterwards. He also introduced me to his favorite hunting, which was waterfowl. We spent many, many days in the blind together and with friends or family, and I learned how to set dekes and how to properly call ducks. We obviously didn't limit too often, but you'd never know from our grins. When I was 16 my mom's dad gave me my first 12 gauge shotgun, and let me go with him and my great uncle to eastern Oregon to hunt chukars. We never limited, but that was never the point. I met some nice people and hunted behind some great dogs. Gramps and I would also scour the mountains looking for grouse, sometimes successfully. I was with him when I killed my first pheasant. He and I had loads of fun looking around the small towns and historic mountains. Did I mention that my dad also got me interested in fishing? A million and one stories from that I could tell, but won't. Looong story short, my dad was behind my outdoor interests, and I couldn't be more grateful. What a world I would have missed!

Another old thread!

I'll bite. My parents fought like dogs and cats which finally ended in a divorce. That was around the time when dad went over to spend a tour in VN.

The person who taught me to shoot and hunt was my mom's bf and a father figure to me. At 12, he bought me a Benjiman pump bb rifle. Bad Idea. I shot up the backyard with it. I would put firecrackers on top of the fence and shoot them off. At the end, the fence looked like a dog chewed it. One year later, he made me remember the 10 rules of gun safety. He then took me on my first deer hunt. During bird season we would go every possible weekend which lasted Sept - Jan in Hawai'i. It was an expensive affair; we would fly to Molokai so every weekend was a mini adventure.

My father wasn't a shooter. Gil Hebard and his friends taught me to shoot.

I can't remember what age, I'm guessing 6. My dad enrolled me in a N.R.A. sanctioned class at the Y.M.C.A., we shot BB guns. He shot competitively in the R.O.T.C. and N.R.A. I've got his 1939 model 52 which he used, it's about 99% condition.