Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Granddaddy’s Gun

By Aaron Lewis.
Never heard this before but it explains why some of us get really attached to some of the rifles and shotguns like we do.
I never knew either of my Grandfathers. They had left the scene long before I came around, but there’s three that are worth their weight in gold to me.
That Remington 788, in .308 is the first.
My first deer rifle. The Old Man bought it, used, for me when I was 13. I used it until I went in the Army. While I was away The Old Man fell in love with it.
When I got out, I bought myself a Ruger 77 in .30-06, and Dad used that .308 the last 25 years of his life.
I took it home after the funeral, and cried. I still load shells for it, and take it out to shoot and hunt with.
The next is an old Remington 870, in 16 gauge. Dad bought it used when he got home after WW2 for $30. It’s the only shotgun he ever really liked.
I gave him a 12 gauge with a slug barrel, deadly on rabbits, but he like that old 16 better.
It was kinda abused, to him a gun was just a tool used for hunting, so it never got cleaned, and was covered with overspray from being in the garage, where we painted cars.
I got it re-blued and the stock re-furnished last year. It cost me $600 , which he would’ve bitched about no end!
The last is an old Glenfield model 20 in .22 LR, it was my brother Dave’s Gun, and the one I learned to shoot on.
God alone knows how many Bullets went down that pipe over the years, but it’s still a good shooter!
Hopefully, it’ll teach another generation of Oldhams to shoot!
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Just went and oiled down the first 2 guns Dad gave me. Started with a Winchester 37 410. After a couple squirrel seasons he got me a Remington 521 T to match his and wouldn't let me use a shotgun again. Said I needed to learn how to shoot a rifle. The old Weaver steel tubed K4 died on me, other than that its just like he gave 40 years ago. Lets see pics of those first guns.

This song affects me more than any song I have ever heard. I can NOT listen to it without tearing up.

I gave my grandfathers Mod 37 12ga red letter to my oldest nephew this past Christmas.

In the 70’s a man I knew who was dying of cancer handed me a pretty little red letter in 20 gauge. Still in my gun room, never fired it, just a bit of oil now and again.

Osky

Good song!

Lots of memories

Touchstones to the past. A reckoning with blood that is gone from this world. I’m sure there are other items that bring the same emotions up but I’m not personally aware of any. Touching the wood and metal, handling the shells or cartridges, thinking of how it was used. Magic.

Grandpa's 1927 Winchester 94 he gave to me three weeks before he died. Turns out, its a bit of a rare bird, only 14 like it. Collectors refer to it as the 94/95 Hybrid since it came from the factory with a model 94 barrel (yet still stamped 94). Doesn't matter to me, that's staying in the family.

A friend of mine years ago took his great grandfather's old double gun out to dove hunt with. The first shot both barrels let go and the latch flew open. The two casings hit him in the forehead. That's the last time he shot it to my knowledge.

I have a few of my grandfather's guns. A Winchester 94 in 30-30 he bought new in 1926. All the blue has evaporated from the receiver, as is common with this vintage, but the rest of the gun is mint. A Belgian Browning SA22 with the wheel sight, mint.

And two Remington model 11s, one in 20ga and one in 12. My grandfather just about wore out the 20ga and bought a new 12ga. He took it out, flushed a pheasant and missed it with all three shots. Didn't say a word, just went back to the car, put the 12 ga away, took out the 20 and hunted with it for the rest of his life. Which is why I now have a completely worn out 20ga Remington 11 and a like new 12ga with three shots through it.

That's funny. My dad did something similar. Mom bought him a 20 ga. 11-48 new when they came out. He hunted with it until we moved to west Texas and he started hunting ducks. He bought a new Browning A5 12 with a 30 Full choke barrel. He was a little guy and those "high brass" shells beat him up pretty bad. He went back to hunting with his 11-48 20 ga.

I saw that rifle and went WOW! I knew exactly what it was!!! How awesome!!!

I'm going to an Aaron Lewis concert next week. My oldest daughter gave me tickets for Christmas. Really looking forward to it.

Sadly that's not the original finish. The original finish got something on it back in the '70's and I restored the finish in the '80's. But I made sure to do it right, all polishing was done by hand, so all the edges are still crisp, and the stamping all still looks fresh.

“Using a shotgun on Squirrels, is kinda using a spotlight on deer!”
That’s what I told Pastor Mark, when I took him hunting his first year with us!
I let Ben use a 20 gauge the first year he hunted, after that it was a .22 or a .22 Magnum.
Hunting squirrel with a .22, teaches one to be patient, and pick your shots. That carries over to hunting Whitetails, and I think responsible for myself and Ben’s seldom losing a deer. Not bragging, but 95% of my shots on deer, are “bang flops”, because I’ve learned to wait for the shot to present itself.
As I get older, it’s the memories that mean the most. Hunting as I learned it was a family deal. The Old Man taught Dave and me and my younger brother, and as the years went on, Dave and I taught our kids.
It was seldom that we drove deer. Usually we’d hunt separate hollows or ridges, getting back together at the end of the day. The Old Man always came around with the Jeep to gather us up.
(One time he forgot me, up Berky Hollow, and I walked 2&1/2 miles down to the main road)
The times have changed some, but this past year Ben drove all night from Indiana, and checked he and Sara into a hotel, and then grabbed his rifle to come join me just after daylight.
You can’t imagine what that meant to me!
I think the family connections now mean more to me than killing deer. It’s a tradition that I cherish, and hope to pass on to my grandkids.
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👍👍👍👍. Giveaway to me was the front sight!

I got papas Steven’s fully gauanteed single 12 older 1st cousin got the 1st pick great grand paws double 12 exposed hammers engraved with initials.Savage fox or some deviant masking tape held the stock together last time I seen it in granny’s closet.
I asked him about that gun last week he’s “restoring” the stock.I’d give untold for it because of 2 stories behind it just to hang it on the fire place.
#1 story around 1950 era he had some black n tan coon dogs top notch.County dog warden comes along asking about tags etc etc old man said no tags🤷‍♂️Mr county man said 2 weeks you’d better have tags or else.
Mr county man shows up 2 weeks later same questions no tags.Tells old man I’m putting the dogs down.
Old man told him “hold on I’ll be right back”🤣
Shows up at the door and cocks the hammers and tells him”shoot the first one and you’ll be the next”🤣🤣

#2 story old man couldn’t walk no more 1970s era had his sons tote his ass up the mountain plus a chair for a deer drive and blasted a 140-150 class split g2 buck cousin has the rack as well

Thanks to all, for sharing the memories of our first guns and our families.
THIS is what I treasure the most of the ‘Campfire.
And it also brightens my day to find that there’s enough of us old dinosaurs around to carry on the traditions.
America will never die, as long as those of us who grew up here, and learned to love her, as we did, can still draw a breath!
It’s up to us, to teach our kids and grandkids what is meant by the Constitution, and what “Government of the People, by the People, and for the People” really means.
(much as I hate to quote Lincoln, he hit the nail on the head).
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My grandfather left me his 32/20 and gave another grandson his double barrel 12. I don’t remember the manufacturer but I think it was bored full/full and like most had a lot of drop with a thin comb that would knock the snot out of your cheek.

”Bull” went dove hunting with my father and me once in ‘64. Up til then I had always been the retriever but this was my first dove hunt as a shooter and I was shooting a new Savage 24A .410. My grandfather was across the field from me and whenever he shot you’d hear a distinctive BAWHOOMP! 😊

For the record as I was walking to my spot, a really unlucky dove flew by and with my first shot at a flying dove, I nailed it. I’m thinking, “this is easy” 😁 The doves were flying like blackbirds and three boxes of shells later I had my limit 😁

I would trade any rifle, heck any pair of rifles, I own now to have my Great Grandad’s 760 in .244.

My Grandad bought it for him for Christmas 1958. I borrowed it to kill my first two bucks, always took him a steak or two for “rent” of his rifle.

There was some controversy and bad dealings and feelings when time came to divvy everything up after he died and the guns were already gone.