My Dad started out as a bit of a gun nut. Before the farm and kids came along he had a few. A pre 64 model 70 30-06, a model 64 30-30, a Winchester 67 22 LR and a model 1873 44-40 and for a shotgun he had an Ithaca 37 20 gauge. After he started farming and the kids started coming along, he got rid of all but the 67 and the Ithaca. Much to my disappointment. He simply didn’t have time as a dairy farmer raising livestock and kids to indulge his gun interest.
As I grew and developed a strong interest in shooting, hunting, fishing and trapping, he was able to speak gun with me up to a point. In later years he would often call me to ask about some obscure gun or round he’d read of in a book. It kept me on my toes. I certainly miss my frequent phone conversations with him. Seems like never a week goes by but what I have a story I’d like to share or a corny joke.
Dad never did anything to stifle my outdoor and gun interests. He made sure I had time to shoot on the high school rifle team, hunt, fish and trap as the farm chores allowed. We had 85 acres of woods on our farm and I had the run of a dozen nearby farms with similar amounts of woods. Some of them had steams and ponds. It was a great place to grow an outdoorsman.
Dad did teach my brother and I to shoot and taught us firearms safety. He wasn’t a shotgunner so that I had to learn on my own. After the farm sold Dad did a little hunting with me but he had lost his right eye and never shot enough after the accident to develop any real confidence.
