Who was responsible for your ongoing interest in Firearms?

Who was responsible for your ongoing interest in Firearms?

  • Your Mother

    Votes: 10 2.3%
  • Your Father

    Votes: 176 40.9%
  • Both your Parents

    Votes: 27 6.3%
  • A Friend

    Votes: 44 10.2%
  • A Government Entity

    Votes: 31 7.2%
  • Other

    Votes: 142 33.0%

  • Total voters
    430
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.

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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.
 
Dad Colt Bullseye gun
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Moms, Rugur
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DAD'S winchester 53D is gone, but, he did help me to buy this BAS
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Dad

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.
 
BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA

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! :D :D :D
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.
 
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.
 
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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!
 
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.
 
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.
 
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