At least this one returned.............

My late father owned a 1950s vintage Remington Model 722 rifle (.300 Savage). I was 12-years old in 1970 when my Dad was stricken with a nassive brain aneurysm the day after Christmas. Sadly, I was never able to hunt with him. My amazing Mother and some family friends filled his shoes, but that’s another story for another time.

I hunted using Dad’s rifle for one or two years, but I am left-handed and was convinced I needed a left-handed rifle. Mom listed Dad’s rifle for sale. Fortunately, one of Dad’s buddies frequently cruised through the newspaper looking for gun deals. He immediately called, urging us to not sell the rifle. Money was sort of tight and I was a persistent young boy, so he bought the rifle and I purchased a left-handed Remington.

It didn’t take too long for me to realize the error of my ways. After graduating high school, I approached my Dad’s friend asking if he’d ever part with the 722. What I didn’t know was, in the years that had passed his home was virtually destroyed by fire. By another twist of fate, prior to the fire he had sold the rifle to another of Dad’s friends as his son’s first deer rifle.

I was pleased to hear the Remington had made it through the fire. For years I would occasionally think about Dad’s rifle. Twenty years later, I contacted the new owner and inquired if he’d ever consider selling the .300 Savage. He said “no”, and my heart sank just a little bit, then he paused and said, “but I’d be willing to trade.” He had moved to Texas and was interested in a long action rifle.

I was happy to acquire a gently used Remington 700 ADL rifle which his parents shuttled to Texas during one of their visits. They returned with my Dad’s rifle which was no worse for the wear. I was almost like a 12-year old boy at Christmas again. With a tear in my eye, I was once again handling the Remington 722. It’s nothing special – the plain walnut stock shows handling marks and the bluing is slightly worn - but the rifle holds tremendous sentimental value to me. The rifle still shoots well, too. I have since harvested a couple deer with the rifle.

Thanks to a couple generous friends and some luck, the rifle returned to our family after a nearly 30 year absence. Our sons have promised to not let “Dad’s deer rifle” ever leave the family.