My Dad was definitely a gun guy. He always had a "bunch" of guns when I was a kid. Now, looking back, it was only a handful really, but it seemed like a lot. He was mostly a rifleman, using them for hunting. He did have a M12 that he used for grouse and anything else he decided to go after. And a Colt Scout 22 revolver that he let us kids shoot when we were little and went camping.

But his rifles were his love. He had a Browning T-bolt that I thought was the most beautiful 22 I'd ever seen. The first rifle he bought himself, before he married my mom, was a pre-64 Winchester M88 in 308. Next was a pre-64 M70 in .264 Win Mag. He was a devoted Jack O'Connor disciple. However, even when he couldn't afford to buy rifles, he loved shooting and hunting. I remember him telling me about how his biggest desire in the Marine Corps was to qualify as Expert on the rifle range. He tried several times and could never get it done since he was so nervous. He finally figured to heck with it and didn't care any more if he qualified or not and then promptly qualified since he wasn't putting so much pressure on himself. He was pretty proud of that. He was a heck of a rifle shot, too. Hardly ever saw him miss. He was one of the few people in our little town that reloaded and he taught me and I was reloading by the time I was 10 years old. He and I would often talk about the new cartridges that came out and compare them to existing ones, talk ballistics. I would give him all of my old hunting and shooting magazines so he could read them after me and he would do likewise with me. We would debate which were the best bullets to use for different animals and compare reloading notes and results. We went hunting in Alaska several times together and went to Africa to hunt together once. He was my best friend.

My Dad is 81 years old now and had a stroke in February that has affected his brain. He will never hunt or shoot again, I'm afraid. But a few years ago he asked me if I wanted his beloved .264 M70 (he knows I'm a M70 nut). I told him yes, of course, but that I didn't want to take it from him, that he could still use it. He said he didn't think he would ever use it again and wanted me to have it to use. He took me down to his safe and got it out and handed it to me and as I was looking it over, he told me that I better get it out of the house and loaded into my truck right now before he changed his mind. I know he hated to see it go. On one of the last hunts that he went on, he got to see me use the .264 on an Antelope buck. I think that made him happy. That's how much of a gun guy he is/was.