mckenney99
Member
I was probably every parents nightmare.
My parents never had firearms in the house and they weren't even discussed.
One of my childhood friends (Kenny), across the street lived with his widower father and 2 older brothers, who were active members of the local gun club and they were also reloaders. Unbeknownst to my parents, Kenny and I started reloading ammo (if I remember correctly 38 spl) in his basement when we were probably 10-12 years old, unsupervised. Of course if you reload a batch of ammo, you have to test fire some of it and we did just that on numerous occasions using what I remember to be a 6 inch S&W or Colt revolver. We just shot into a dirt mound and some old logs that were in back of the house. No eye or ear pro at that time. Strangely, none of the neighbors ever called the police or our parents even though the neighbors always watched each other's kids constantly.
No one ever got hurt.
My parents would have had heart attacks if they had only known.
Fast forward to July 1979. I was home visiting my parents just before my 21st birthday. I was preparing to enter my final semester in my Police Administration BS degree program. My parents had finally accepted the fact that I was going into LE. I had served an internship in the office of an Asst Chief with a local metro PD. The Asst Chief encouraged me to join the dept after I completed my Degree. I was going to need a service revolver to start my career, so my father agreed to purchase my first service revolver as my birthday present.
After hours of pouring over magazines, Gun Digests and everything else I could find, I really wanted a S&W M66 4 inch but they were almost unobtainium at the time and if you did find one, it was for a ridiculous price. I decided I could live with a 4 inch SS Ruger Security Six with plans to upgrade later.
As it turned out, I never got a chance to carry the Ruger, as the agency I had interned for, put a freeze on hiring just as I finished my degree. I wound up joining and spending my entire LE career working for an agency that issued their chosen sidearms and all other equipment.
I still have the Ruger and I still remember the look of pride and concern on my father's face when he turned it over to me, knowing what it represented in my chosen profession.
My parents never had firearms in the house and they weren't even discussed.
One of my childhood friends (Kenny), across the street lived with his widower father and 2 older brothers, who were active members of the local gun club and they were also reloaders. Unbeknownst to my parents, Kenny and I started reloading ammo (if I remember correctly 38 spl) in his basement when we were probably 10-12 years old, unsupervised. Of course if you reload a batch of ammo, you have to test fire some of it and we did just that on numerous occasions using what I remember to be a 6 inch S&W or Colt revolver. We just shot into a dirt mound and some old logs that were in back of the house. No eye or ear pro at that time. Strangely, none of the neighbors ever called the police or our parents even though the neighbors always watched each other's kids constantly.
No one ever got hurt.
My parents would have had heart attacks if they had only known.
Fast forward to July 1979. I was home visiting my parents just before my 21st birthday. I was preparing to enter my final semester in my Police Administration BS degree program. My parents had finally accepted the fact that I was going into LE. I had served an internship in the office of an Asst Chief with a local metro PD. The Asst Chief encouraged me to join the dept after I completed my Degree. I was going to need a service revolver to start my career, so my father agreed to purchase my first service revolver as my birthday present.
After hours of pouring over magazines, Gun Digests and everything else I could find, I really wanted a S&W M66 4 inch but they were almost unobtainium at the time and if you did find one, it was for a ridiculous price. I decided I could live with a 4 inch SS Ruger Security Six with plans to upgrade later.
As it turned out, I never got a chance to carry the Ruger, as the agency I had interned for, put a freeze on hiring just as I finished my degree. I wound up joining and spending my entire LE career working for an agency that issued their chosen sidearms and all other equipment.
I still have the Ruger and I still remember the look of pride and concern on my father's face when he turned it over to me, knowing what it represented in my chosen profession.
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