Bill was a good friend. When the phone rang I knew I better fill the coffee cup and settle down in the recliner
He picked my grain from what little it holds anymore about the .44-77 and after he saw the Buff scull hanging above the soap pot after the buzzards, blue jays and robins cleaned most of the hide off showing the bare bone scull he was convinced that the .44-77 would do it's job and I really thought that he would get one ordered.
He chewed my hinder when I drilled holes in the barrel for scope blocks but understood the reason I did it. I have no liking for using a scope but it's a necessity for me anymore. The eyes are really getting dim.
Bill is not gone as long as we remember him.
Kurt
