My dad was a child of the depression so there was no money for things like guns and no time to take off from work for things like hunting, so he never took it up till later in life. He did realize my love for hunting and shooting which I inherited from my maternal grandfather, and nurtured it. He occasionally went small game hunting with friends when I was young and allowed me to tag along. When I was old enough to hunt he went along until I was old enough to hunt by myself. At that point I was basically on my own, although he always encouraged me to continue. He bought me all of my first guns and always supplied ammo for me to practice and hunt. He mentioned many times that hunting/shooting was a good "hobby" for me to pursue. He never shot a deer, that I know of since his only gun was a Mossburg 500 shotgun, which he used for everything. Slugs were good enough, according to him, but I absolutely know he never shot at a target to determine where the slugs were going. He also hated he cold and so sitting waiting for a deer to come by was a no go! He did push the first deer I ever shot to me for which I was eternally grateful. He saw it, never shot at it, and watched it move my direction when it spooked. He was al smiles when he heard the shots and came walking up to me and my prize.
