Hello JKT,
My mother now age 91, still tells the story of myself at age 3 or 4, being absolutely riveted by a cork gun that I saw in a toy store, (in 1956 or '57).
And I apparently pined away for it to the point that my Grandmother's sister no less, had mercy on me and bought it for me.
I remember this "weapon", it was a side by side, made of stamped sheet metal that, hinged in the middle and, I was not yet strong enough to cock this mechanism.
The adults being good and tired of me asking for help, soon instructed me to "make my shots count" (the strings that kept the corks from flying far from the gun had been cut by one or the other parent, Great-aunt, uncle or whomever).
To this day, I am quite fond of side by side shotguns and rifles, yes quite.
My father was not interested in hunting or guns, although growing up on a farm in Iowa, he was as familiar with same, as most farm boys would be and, he had reportedly done some small game hunting, with his brothers in those days (1930s).
He was just simply not interested in guns and hunting after "The War" and it's likely that terrible experience had everything to do with his disinterest in guns and hunting.
He had been a Paratrooper in the 101st Airborne "Screaming Eagles", and witnessed some of his friends get blown to pieces and/or get shot, during the "Battle of The Bulge" and my mother recalls that he suffered nightmares of being on the bloody battle field for years afterward.
He preferred sailing, tennis and golf.
I'd rather pour salt in my eyes than to play golf ("One man's bread is another man's poison").
However, he was a good man and very intelligent so, according to my Christmas wishes, he gave me a 2nd hand but good quality air rifle at some point, when I was still in elementary school (German, possibly "Walther"?) hinge cocking, single shot .177 pellet caliber, with rifled barrel and oiled leather O-ring pressure seal, adjustable sights and adjustable trigger weight, walnut stock as well - wish I still had it.
Then, he used my air rifle to his advantage to both drum the safe gun handling mindset into my little brain plus, to take my rifle away from me if I misbehaved, as children will do now and then.
Perhaps this is why I'm seriously against gun control now - my father traumatized me by sometimes revoking my air gun rights as a child ! (Now, may I sign up for disability welfare benefits ?).
Back then (early 1960s) I bagged more than one or two sparrows ("California impala") with it, in the famous big game hunting grounds of South-Central Los Angeles - once I bagged a careless dove (California eland) that landed in our back yard (baited field LOL).
In more recent times, leftist Hollywood, especially Producer / Director, Quinton Tarantino, likes to make hoodlum/gun violence movies in South-Central Los Angeles.
Around age 12 or 13, my father presented me with a hideous Montgomery-Wards / "Hercules" brand single shot 20 gauge shotgun.
It was made on an overly heavy 12 gauge frame that, is possibly cast iron and the barrel had an extra-thick chamber.
It is a real prize, with the above features plus, a birch (or perhaps ash tree) wood stock and a stout main spring, such that I could not cock the hammer with my thumb.
I had to use the heel of my hand to accomplish it, until I got a bit older and stronger of thumb.
This wretched shotgun seemed like it must've weighed about as much as a motor bike or, at least about as handy as a motor bike to swing on fast movers, like quail and doves.
Sometime before age 16, we had already moved to Sacramento, 400 miles north and at that stage, I really hit the sporting goods jackpot.
Christmas then saw me with a new "Harrington & Richardson" brand single shot 12 gauge, birch stock again and genuine plastic trigger guard - beauty !
I never removed/examined the internal parts but, the main spring may have only been a rubber band, by the way it felt to cock the hammer.
This conversely, way too light for gauge shotgun "kicked a bit".
When firing slugs from same, it was deadly at both ends.
Simultaneously, I had been working as one of the cooks, in a greasy-spoon all night restaurant, so with my massive paychecks, I saved up enough to buy an unmodified, Smith-Corona made, 1903-A3 Springfield, .30-06, from a schoolmate for $40.US, in darn near unfired condition (those were the days !)
Likewise that year, one of my childhood friends from back in L.A. told me he was "getting out of shooting" ( !!!! ) and gave to me a Remington single shot .22 Rifle, Model 514, in pristine condition, I was on a roll.
If that's not enough, my father was working long hours then and so, my mother got elected to do a "strawperson" buyer, with my money for me, on my first handgun - a new Ruger "Bearcat" .22, single action.
In 1969, the retail price was a whopping $37 bucks.
I soon sold this revolver to another friend, (after my father cleared this deal with that boy's parents) and then bought a larger framed Ruger .22 revolver, "Single-Six Convertible" (extra cylinder in .22 magnum).
Long boring story short (with my apologies to anyone suffering through my long blathering rant here), hunting and fishing are deep seated in my every fiber, evidently beginning at quite an early age.
Cheers,
Velo Dog.
