Can someone find and post the picture of Younger Greg from his cowboy days in Canada? He was in front of a corral fence with a bearskin draped on the fence. I think he had killed the bear.
I do not talk much on this site and did not know Greg. I just wanted to point out that it was not Lee Shaver that shot the first 10 in a row chickens in BPCR. I believe that the fellow that did that was from down in southern Arizona. His name escapes at the moment.
Ron Calderone
THAT'S HIM! I warned you guys my memory was faulty!
Thank you for the correction, gentlemen!
Ed
"Not in an open forum, where truth has less value than opinions, where all opinions are equally welcome regardless of their origins, rationale, inanity, or truth, where opinions are neither of equal value nor decisive." Ken Howell
Ed Bryant you know how Greg liked those Cowboy songs, and he was one of the select few who know that I write them. I sent him a home recorded CD of some I'd written and he enjoyed getting it.
I told him I would write one about him.... and I did. We were to meet at Quemado where he would hear it, but he didn't make it and I just forgot about it.
It took awhile this A M but I finally recalled one verse of it:
"This trail I've come down is rocky and rough, flanked by cactus and thorn They're the dues that you pay, for living each day, in the place where the Devil was born. I think of the mountains I once called my home And I think of the seas that I've sailed When I've finished my race, I'll die in this place That's next door to Heaven and Hell”
Obviously I don"t post often. I did not know Greg but I am sure I have read many of his posts. Seems like the kind of guy that was a tough guy to love. But those are the guys you remember and learn a thing or two along the way. I have had some friends like that and a respect their grit and determination to be more. Always getting it done the hard, honest way.
This thread on Greg's passing has been something to witness. You guys have shown your true character in your concern and actions in regards to Greg. I would applaud you all but that it is what good people do regardless of recognition.
Thanks to Rick for building a place where good people can battle and engage, a place where the good still can be exposed.
It is my honor to be a witness.
It seems I have got some of that grit in my eye. Bless all who have contributed.
Greg and I had swapped PMs a couple of times, and that was it, but I always read his posts with interest and respect. He was a damned good man, as near as I can tell, and you tell a lot about someone's character by the friends he makes, or made.
RIP Greg and Gracey, we are lesser for your passings.
You can roll a turd in peanuts, dip it in chocolate, and it still ain't no damn Baby Ruth.
His handle was a puzzle to me when we first met as I'd never been involved in significant target competition. He explained the matter and a few years later at a NRC event in Cody I did just that. The Wyoming Armory built a .40 slug rifle and I picked it up just prior to the match. We sauntered to the line for sight in day and there was quite a few very well known gents present. Steve Garbe, Kenny Wasserberger and more.
It was in that setting I parked myself at the bench to try the first shots I'd taken with the gun, this in a 15-20 mph full value Wyoming crosswind. Loaded the old girl, parked by rear and lined up on the target with Kenny watching the target with glass. 200 yards.....boom. KW called it a miss. I was crestfallen. Boom. Miss. Dang it all....
Then KW shifted his field of view and said, "Wrong target, 2 in the 25 ring". And then I understood the Crossfireoops concept.
I got really excited and proceeded to let the wind have its way with me.
Came away from the match with 3d place, which considering the shooters was richly undeserved...and as stated above, an epiphany rekindled each time I see that target, and a memory of that conversation.
Dan
PS: Some asked previously about the bear hide fence picture with Greg and horse beside it. I have it somewhere but have been unable to locate it to this point. Still looking.
Last edited by DigitalDan; 10/21/17.
I am..........disturbed.
Concerning the difference between man and the jackass: some observers hold that there isn't any. But this wrongs the jackass. -Twain
Ed Bryant you know how Greg liked those Cowboy songs, and he was one of the select few who know that I write them. I sent him a home recorded CD of some I'd written and he enjoyed getting it.
I told him I would write one about him.... and I did. We were to meet at Quemado where he would hear it, but he didn't make it and I just forgot about it.
It took awhile this A M but I finally recalled one verse of it:
"This trail I've come down is rocky and rough, flanked by cactus and thorn They're the dues that you pay, for living each day, in the place where the Devil was born. I think of the mountains I once called my home And I think of the seas that I've sailed When I've finished my race, I'll die in this place That's next door to Heaven and Hell”
Thank you, Gene. That sounds like him, for sure.
Ed
"Not in an open forum, where truth has less value than opinions, where all opinions are equally welcome regardless of their origins, rationale, inanity, or truth, where opinions are neither of equal value nor decisive." Ken Howell
I wish I had known him, he sounds like the kind of man you'd be proud to have him call you friend. P
I'll try to put a little light on Greg for those who never had the honor and pleasure of knowing him, but before I begin, I ask that other who knew him would chime in and add and/or correct anything I write here. Time does funny things to memory, and it doesn't help that there were times Greg and I were talking that we both were sampling processed grains.
Greg was born in 1947 to a Merchant Mariner who had been awarded the Legion of Merit for his actions as a Lt. Cmdr. in the U.S. Navy. Keep in mind that, as of this date, there have only been 248 Legion of Merits awarded since the founding of this nation. In order to be awarded the LOM, one has to have acted in such a way as to have had a material impact on the outcome of a war. Not a firefight, skirmish, or even a battle, but a war. That's the kind of household he was brought up in. Greg's Dad became a Merchant Marine after being discharged from the Navy after the war, Captaining freighters all over the Pacific. Greg grew up on a ship. *Note: In a PM, another member here corrected my geography as it relates to Greg's Dad's Merchant Marine Service. He worked the Atlantic Ocean after the war, not the Pacific.
When Greg turned 17, he enlisted in the Marines and served four years including a tour in Viet Nam, which I only knew him once to speak about and that seemed to bring back some real stress, so it was not pursued.
Once out of the Marines, he headed north to Alberta, Canada and became a cowboy. There, he was in place for the beginnings of the oil exploration boom and went to work in the oil fields. Greg started out as a Floorhand and there, he learned to weld and to do machine work from some real savvy old men., soon becoming a rig mechanic. Greg did well enough that he eventually became a Toolpusher, working for a number of Wildcatters.
Greg also became a blaster or "powder monkey", skilled enough that he was contracted to do that cabin explosion for the movie "Death Hunt".
Greg left the oil fields for a while, buying and running a small gas station. I am guessing that wasn't enough for Greg as he took a job offer that would forever change his life and outlook on life. This was during the time when Mexico was experiencing a huge growth in oil production and other Central American countries were also trying to get in to the game.
Greg was approached by a small group of Wildcatters who contracted him to go to Central America and set up Wildcat rigs and train the locals how to set them up and successfully run them. Greg traveled all over Central America for the next six years, selecting, hiring and training locals to do just that. Keep in mind that Greg spoke damned near no Spanish when he first started that job! Some of the photos Greg showed me of the rigs and their locations down there are just amazing. Talk about some difficult terrain!
Greg fell in love with the culture and people of Central America, but remained fiercely loyal to America, so he settled for the best of both worlds, living roughly six miles from the Mexican Border.
Greg applied his machine and welding skills, running a shop from the place he built out of nothing SE of Sierra Vista, AZ. He also became a board member of the Sierra Vista Shooting Range where he traveled to Phoenix to lobby (successfully) the Dept of Game and Fish for grant funding for that public facility.
Greg, being a Marine (rifleman first!), got into the BPCR world by way of doing some custom work on a couple of old Sharps rifles for customers of his. As one would expect, he was as meticulous about the BPCR world as he was everything else in his life. Not getting rich at his small machine shop, he learned to create accurate rifles from genuine old Sharps and Remington Roling Block rifles. He also learned to restore Schuetzen rifles and their accessories.
He drew the admiration and appreciation of the top BPCR shooters in the country for not only his rifle building skills, but his shooting and spotting skills. He ws spotting for Lee Shavers the day that Lee became the first BPCR competitor to clean all of the chickens at a registered match. This has only been done twice in the history of BPCR competition.
For a time, Greg also wrote a column in the "Single Shot Exchange" on the subjects of BPCR and Schuetzen rifles.
Greg competed with is own creation, a "Badgersoli", an 1874 Sharps clone made of an early Pedersoli action and a Badger barrel, with accurizing of the action and making a new stock. The last time I was at Greg's, he showed me a Badgersoli that he was building for a customer that was a thing of beauty, with AAA exhibition wood, deeply engraved action, and that was headed to have the action case-hardened by Doug Turnbull.
Not content with just wood and steel, Greg created a small oasis out of his acreage SW of Sierra Vista, planting fruit trees and growing a spineless Blackberry cultivar that was amazing in it's productivity and the size and flavor of it's fruit. He also cultivated a vegetable garden, using minimal water techniques and raised meat rabbits for food and for their manure, which was his favorite garden fertilizer.
Greg, ever interested in the environment he lived in, became very active in water issues, using his knowledge of state government, he lobbied the Department of Agriculture to preserve the aquifers in AZ for the use of AZ residents and not sell the water to the State of California.
Greg was no angel, by any stretch of the imagination, but he was an honest, straightforward man who gave his word and kept it, expecting others to do the same.
Most folks have no idea how much pain Greg lived with every day. His knees and his hips were bone-on-bone, but he was too proud and self-reliant to ask for help. Some faulted him for his drinking, but that was his way of continuing to function. Right or wrong, that's the reason.
He was gruff, abrupt, short-tempered, and had little patience for stupidity (expressed or implied), was quick to judge, but could, and did, change his mind when given all the facts, he was extremely loyal, generous, and considerate.
He lived that life expressed by Theodore Roosevelt; "For those who have fought for it, life has a flavor the protected will never know."
He was a sort of a Renaissance Man as he was an artist in wood and steel, he was a great machinist and welder, he could design and build almost anything he could imagine, he was very well read, multi-lingual, (speaking both smokeless and black powder), and was an animal lover.
He truly was a Western Character, full of life and energy, fixed in his code of honor and beliefs, a good man to have with you in a tight spot, fearless and confident, and one of the finest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. To be considered a friend of his was an honor.
As noted by other good folks here, we are diminished.
Rest in Peace, my friend, I'll see you on the other side.
Ed
Ed, That was the Damn'd finest post I've ever seen here on the fire, you're a Good man for doing it. Its much appreciated, by those of us who admired Greg.
...Ed, That was the Damn'd finest post I've ever seen here on the fire, you're a Good man for doing it. Its much appreciated, by those of us who admired Greg.
-Adam.
Thank you, Adam.
As I posted in another thread here, I didn't do it for Greg, I did it for us who are still here and, selfishly, for me.
It's part of the my grieving process, to outline the life of one I have lost, acknowledging both their virtues and their vices, weighing to measure how much they meant to me, not weighing their worth to anyone else.
I have yet to find one, written down like that, whose measure was great in impacting other's lives in a positive way.
We are all here for far too short of a time for us to be caught up in the negative side of other people. Greg's sudden death emphasizes that once again.
Ed
"Not in an open forum, where truth has less value than opinions, where all opinions are equally welcome regardless of their origins, rationale, inanity, or truth, where opinions are neither of equal value nor decisive." Ken Howell
I didn't,......but it wasn't because of any altruism on my part. It was just out of the recognition that drink has different effects on different people and in Crossfire's case, it made him a curmudgeon. I don't mind curmudgeons,...I hate azzholes, but I don't mind curmudgeons.
Cross would have a snoot-full and I'd say something about something,..first thing ya know he'd be all up in my face and there was no amount of discussion that would fix it. About 2/3rds of the time it occurred, I'd have a snoot-full to,...so it was just one of those things.
Crossfire would cuss and fuss at me something awful, sometimes,..and I'd fuss back at him a little. But I never had the inclination to get all involved in a pissin' match with him because it was apparent that he wasn't hateful,..even when he was climbing somebody's azz (including mind),..he didn't do it in a hateful manner.
I never held nothing against him,...and evidently, he didn't hold nothing against me,..and when the conversation came around to machining,..TIG welding,..or loading for Rook rifles, we'd have some good conversations.
Later, of course,..we'd occasionally cuss at each other when we was drinkin' liquor and typing on the internet. Tomorrow,..it was water under the bridge. In fact,..I never considered it serious enough to need to be water under the bridge. It was just me with a buzz and Crossfire with a buzz, barkin' about first this, that and t'other.
I've really enjoyed reading about his history from the people who know it and it makes me kinda happy that he bothered to engage me in conversation on here from time to time,...even on those occasions when he was in curmudgeon mode.
I never saw his face,..but I'm already missin' that old fart.
I learned a long time ago that a person could get a handle on somebody else on the internet,...maybe even in ways that you can't in real life.
I dunno how many years I was in communication with Greg, quite a lot, I forget how many times he insulted me. He never did insult my family or my wife or even hint at that, which sort of insults I have learned on this board are about the only insults which anger me. Sometimes we was congenial, some times he weren't, but like most of the regulars here he was something like family.
I did look up the last direct exchange between us, 9/4/17 when that guy ran into the Burning Man fire and died.....
Me.....
"The guy was 41 and married, and had the means to fly back from Switzerland for the eclipse, and was apparently in good physical shape.. It is a mystery to me how lives can go so wrong."
Greg.....
Being married, with "means" has absolutely no thermal insulating, or reflective properties.
GTC
It takes a special kind of wit to meld unassailable fact with humor like that. I do not believe there is a possible comeback that would top that.
Don't be the darkness.
America will perish while those who should be standing guard are satisfying their lusts.
Thanks Ed, learned a lot that I did not know, very well done!
^^^This!^^^
"Allways speak the truth and you will never have to remember what you said before..." Sam Houston Texans, "We say Grace, We Say Mam, If You Don't Like it, We Don't Give a Damn!"
I wish I had known him, he sounds like the kind of man you'd be proud to have him call you friend. P
I'll try to put a little light on Greg for those who never had the honor and pleasure of knowing him, but before I begin, I ask that other who knew him would chime in and add and/or correct anything I write here. Time does funny things to memory, and it doesn't help that there were times Greg and I were talking that we both were sampling processed grains.
Greg was born in 1947 to a Merchant Mariner who had been awarded the Legion of Merit for his actions as a Lt. Cmdr. in the U.S. Navy. Keep in mind that, as of this date, there have only been 248 Legion of Merits awarded since the founding of this nation. In order to be awarded the LOM, one has to have acted in such a way as to have had a material impact on the outcome of a war. Not a firefight, skirmish, or even a battle, but a war. That's the kind of household he was brought up in. Greg's Dad became a Merchant Marine after being discharged from the Navy after the war, Captaining freighters all over the Pacific. Greg grew up on a ship. *Note: In a PM, another member here corrected my geography as it relates to Greg's Dad's Merchant Marine Service. He worked the Atlantic Ocean after the war, not the Pacific.
When Greg turned 17, he enlisted in the Marines and served four years including a tour in Viet Nam, which I only knew him once to speak about and that seemed to bring back some real stress, so it was not pursued.
Once out of the Marines, he headed north to Alberta, Canada and became a cowboy. There, he was in place for the beginnings of the oil exploration boom and went to work in the oil fields. Greg started out as a Floorhand and there, he learned to weld and to do machine work from some real savvy old men., soon becoming a rig mechanic. Greg did well enough that he eventually became a Toolpusher, working for a number of Wildcatters.
Greg also became a blaster or "powder monkey", skilled enough that he was contracted to do that cabin explosion for the movie "Death Hunt".
Greg left the oil fields for a while, buying and running a small gas station. I am guessing that wasn't enough for Greg as he took a job offer that would forever change his life and outlook on life. This was during the time when Mexico was experiencing a huge growth in oil production and other Central American countries were also trying to get in to the game.
Greg was approached by a small group of Wildcatters who contracted him to go to Central America and set up Wildcat rigs and train the locals how to set them up and successfully run them. Greg traveled all over Central America for the next six years, selecting, hiring and training locals to do just that. Keep in mind that Greg spoke damned near no Spanish when he first started that job! Some of the photos Greg showed me of the rigs and their locations down there are just amazing. Talk about some difficult terrain!
Greg fell in love with the culture and people of Central America, but remained fiercely loyal to America, so he settled for the best of both worlds, living roughly six miles from the Mexican Border.
Greg applied his machine and welding skills, running a shop from the place he built out of nothing SE of Sierra Vista, AZ. He also became a board member of the Sierra Vista Shooting Range where he traveled to Phoenix to lobby (successfully) the Dept of Game and Fish for grant funding for that public facility.
Greg, being a Marine (rifleman first!), got into the BPCR world by way of doing some custom work on a couple of old Sharps rifles for customers of his. As one would expect, he was as meticulous about the BPCR world as he was everything else in his life. Not getting rich at his small machine shop, he learned to create accurate rifles from genuine old Sharps and Remington Roling Block rifles. He also learned to restore Schuetzen rifles and their accessories.
He drew the admiration and appreciation of the top BPCR shooters in the country for not only his rifle building skills, but his shooting and spotting skills. He ws spotting for Lee Shavers the day that Lee became the first BPCR competitor to clean all of the chickens at a registered match. This has only been done twice in the history of BPCR competition.
For a time, Greg also wrote a column in the "Single Shot Exchange" on the subjects of BPCR and Schuetzen rifles.
Greg competed with is own creation, a "Badgersoli", an 1874 Sharps clone made of an early Pedersoli action and a Badger barrel, with accurizing of the action and making a new stock. The last time I was at Greg's, he showed me a Badgersoli that he was building for a customer that was a thing of beauty, with AAA exhibition wood, deeply engraved action, and that was headed to have the action case-hardened by Doug Turnbull.
Not content with just wood and steel, Greg created a small oasis out of his acreage SW of Sierra Vista, planting fruit trees and growing a spineless Blackberry cultivar that was amazing in it's productivity and the size and flavor of it's fruit. He also cultivated a vegetable garden, using minimal water techniques and raised meat rabbits for food and for their manure, which was his favorite garden fertilizer.
Greg, ever interested in the environment he lived in, became very active in water issues, using his knowledge of state government, he lobbied the Department of Agriculture to preserve the aquifers in AZ for the use of AZ residents and not sell the water to the State of California.
Greg was no angel, by any stretch of the imagination, but he was an honest, straightforward man who gave his word and kept it, expecting others to do the same.
Most folks have no idea how much pain Greg lived with every day. His knees and his hips were bone-on-bone, but he was too proud and self-reliant to ask for help. Some faulted him for his drinking, but that was his way of continuing to function. Right or wrong, that's the reason.
He was gruff, abrupt, short-tempered, and had little patience for stupidity (expressed or implied), was quick to judge, but could, and did, change his mind when given all the facts, he was extremely loyal, generous, and considerate.
He lived that life expressed by Theodore Roosevelt; "For those who have fought for it, life has a flavor the protected will never know."
He was a sort of a Renaissance Man as he was an artist in wood and steel, he was a great machinist and welder, he could design and build almost anything he could imagine, he was very well read, multi-lingual, (speaking both smokeless and black powder), and was an animal lover.
He truly was a Western Character, full of life and energy, fixed in his code of honor and beliefs, a good man to have with you in a tight spot, fearless and confident, and one of the finest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. To be considered a friend of his was an honor.
As noted by other good folks here, we are diminished.
Rest in Peace, my friend, I'll see you on the other side.
I never had the chance to meet Greg but I'm glad I had the chance to chat a bit with him on line.
Thanks Ed for giving us a little insight into the man he was, he'll be missed.
"Camping places fix themselves in your mind as if you had spent long periods of your life in them. You will remember a curve of your wagon track in the grass of the plain like the features of a friend." Isak Dinesen
The government plans these shootings by targeting kids from kindergarten that the government thinks they can control with drugs until the appropriate time--DerbyDude
Whatever. Tell the oompa loompa's hey for me. [/quote]. LtPPowell
