I had a foster brother who was much older, he enlisted in the Navy in 1940 and served throughout WWII in the Pacific. My parents worried about him constantly of course, we got our news from an old battery-powered radio of some sort, having no electricity in the ramshackle farm house we lived in.

In our family we had a 1903 Colt pistol, 38 ACP, my grandfather had found it one day in the 1920's as he was working on some railroad track, that being his profession. During the war, of course, ammo for it was unobtainable.

On VJ day, we got the news of the surrender from the old radio, joyous does not adequately describe my parents' reaction, their (foster) son would be coming home safe and sound!!

My father was so overwhelmed with happiness, he grabbed up the Colt and went out on the back porch and ripped off a full mag in celebration, me right beside him.

I was only 5 years old at the time, I thought that was the coolest thing I had ever seen, made me a gun nut right on the spot there and have been one ever since.
__________________

Dad was an avid hunter/shooter/handloader. I started "helping" when my thumbs were strong enough to seat a primer with a Lee Auto Prime.

Walt Diznee

That bastid!

That's a neat story, thanks for sharing!

I suppose it just came naturally, just like fishing, building pipe bombs to fish with, building tree forts, girls, ect, ect.

I remember, as a kid, one of my grandfathers stopping by one time with his loooong barreled marlin goose gun in the back seat, must've been doing some kinda varmint eradication on his farm. And another grandfather shooting a diamondback rattlesnake with a 22 magnum derringer while we were branding calves on his farm. Probably two of my earliest gun nut moments

My father...

I dont know. I come from a long line of hunters but none of them were gun nuts. PA Game News came in the mail monthly and I just started gravitating towards the Shooters Corner page by Don Lewis naturally. He's still my favorite gunwriter.

I think a big part of it is genetic. My older brother was never really interested in guns (he's getting better late in life) but I've loved guns/shooting from before I could talk. I would page through the Sears catalog and pick out all the guns I was going to own and would head for the gun rack at every hardware/sporting goods store we visited. When I was 3-4 I found my dad's shotgun in the basement and drug it up the stairs, by the barrel, into our kitchen and told my (horrified) mom and aunt "I'm going hunting!". I didn't get to go hunting BTW and they hid the shotgun but I found it again and would take it out and shuck shells when nobody was home! I keep my guns in a safe now.....

My family members hunted, but I suppose the worst(best?) thing that got me going were the old western movies they played on the TV in the summertime, when we were out of school. All the usual suspects, plus The Lone Ranger, Sky King, etc. I've always been interested in firearms, and I had a lot of different toy guns in those days, too. I don't think a day has ever gone by that I didn't have some kind of firearm in my hands.
I'm "et up", as some of my friends say.

Dad would hold a single shot 22 let me aim and pull the trigger, no idea how old I was but I loved it and so it began

My Father.

I got cap pistolas while I was still shîttin yella. I would kill anyone in the Winn-Dixie, just for staring

I had a stick in my hands for a shotgun and cigarette filters in my ears, but my nose worked just fine as I followed Dad and Gramps in the woods shot gunning rabbits, squirrels and quail, I knew then and there I was HOOKED, and hooked hard, for life.

jnyork, Very cool story.

My dad gave me my first .22 Marlin when I was 6 yo for my First Holy Communion. My mom almost schitt herself, but dad wouldn't have it any other way. Since then, there's been no turning back. I remember walking behind him or my grandad in their tracks in the snow while they still hunted in the Adirondacks.

Thanks for the thread. I'm finding myself flooded with memories of the two greatest men I've ever known and endless outdoor experiences with them.

Dad belonged to a trap club and used to go up to Vandalia and bring back trophies. He'd hunted, but mostly he liked the comradery of the trap scene. I can remember him going off to a Turkey Shoot and expecting that he was going out and actually shooting a turkey.

Grandpa had been a bird hunter since he was a kid, but stopped when his FIL got too old to go with him. They were closer than father and son. It just took all the fun out of it.

Both men were over a decade past pulling a trigger when I graduated high school. I had zero interest in firearms. I had a subscription to Outdoor Life, but only read it for the fishing articles.

It wasn't until I was out of college that I started hanging with a bunch of guys:

A retired editor of a gun magazine, and past president of Ohio Gun Collectors
A retired Marine armorer that had owned his own gun store.
A semi-retired paratrooper in the IDF.
A veteran of The Bulge
A fellow with a degree in Pyrotechnic Engineering
. . . and a couple of others

Bob, the editor, got me interested in the value of my family's firearms. I had him out to my folks' house to look at what I'd inherited from my grandfather. From there, I asked to be invited out to the local gun range to try them out.

Within a year or so, I was shooting clays, been boar hunting, and belonged to a gun club. I was buying a firearm about every six months. Between Bob and Jerry (the ex-Marine) I had more than ample prodding.

We lost the first one of that bunch in 1992. Jerry died of brain cancer. The group waxed and waned over the years. All that is left of it that I know is Eli the paratrooper that I haven't seen in years and my hunting buddy, SuperCore, who was a latecomer to the bunch in the mid-90's. Bob died a year ago. He hadn't been to the range in a decade due to bad knees. I helped him on his last trip to OGC.

I saw that they killed stuff. When stuff gets killed I can grab said stuff.

Hopalong Cassidy

Cue up Hank Jr. "It's a family tradition."

Goes back to being a very little kid watching secret agents, cowboys, soldiers, gangsters and cops, using them on TV. Toy guns, very early, became the main props in my play. I think it's a guy thing.

Couldn't wait to get the real ones, and my father relented when I was eight and got me a lever action Daisy BB gun for Christmas. At fourteen, I bought a friend's Crosman .177 caliber pellet pump gun with scope for $45.00 (a fortune for me at the time). Got a Remington Fieldmaster pump .22 for my sixteenth birthday, and a Mini 14 for my seventeenth birthday (I had convinced my folks that it, too, was only a .22, LOL ... and I wasn't technically lying, LOL). I bought all my own guns after that. The rest is history.

My ex-brother-in-law around 1986. I had just joined the Navy and finally had some disposable income. My first purchase was a Winchester 94 XTR chambered in 7-30 Waters. Shot my first whitetail with it and sold it when his sister and I divorced a few years later. He's still a great guy, but she's only gotten meaner and a bit bigger.

Grew up on a farm in very rural west central Kansas. There wasn’t much else to do in free time, except shoot, hunt and fish. So I and brothers really got into guns.

Good question. My dad’s best friend was a gun guy and he gave me all his old gun magazines when i was old enough to read them. He also helped dad get me a good Winchester M62A as a starter .22, probably out of his own extensive collection. When I needed to borrow a deer rifle, I got a Winchester M64, then pre-64 M70’s as i got older. Launched me nicely.

My father had a bring back Luger that I was shown as a youngster.

Analyst say it's because my generation grew up with TV that was loaded down with westerns & war movies.

But my attraction goes back to before that. I've often wondered. But from some of my very first memories of life, guns have peaked my interest.

I don’t really know. I had no dad or uncles. I guess it’s was from guys at school talking about it. Bought a Stevens 12 gauge when I was 16. Used it to dove hunt, deer hunt, and shoot for fun. I still have it.

Where about in the Adirondacks? I hunted Franklin County, near Sugarbush, with my Dad, Uncle and Grandfather and tagged along with them from about the age of 12.

I get hungry.

I've told this on other forums but it's still real to me.

I was @ 10 yo and my Dad borrowed a sporterized 303 B to go deer hunting from a family friend.
He stood it beside the front door the night before so I got to LOOK at it.
Can't tell you what rifle or what had been done to it. It looked GOOD to me.

A Rifle Loony was born.


Jerry

Genetic predisposition.

My grandfather bought a Browning auto 5 before I was born. I was fascinated with it as a small, pre school child.

He would sit me up in a big, stuffed arm chair and lay the Browning across its arms and give me an oily rag. That would keep me quiet and occupied for a long time.

Not to bring up the J and H words, but my parents are holocaust survivors and I grew up knowing what happens to unarmed people who become the targets of those with numbers and/or weapons. So while my parents never liked guns generally, a good part of my family were firearms users. My uncles and cousins lived in rural areas (around Yuba City/Marysville and Shasta) and guns were just part of life...we went hunting and target shooting and that was pretty much it. It was just normal for us and we also knew that guns were not only not evil, they are survival tools in the most elemental sense.

as a young boy didn't need any encouragement it was instinct guns are cool

I was friends with the neighbor kid who lived across from me when I was about 9 or 10. He had a bunch of older brothers......one old enough to drive. One day the older brother showed up with a dead deer and a dead hog in the bed of a pickup when I was over. We just stood around and stared at them while he and his Dad talked about the hunt. It was an epiphany! One of those moments where you are like man I gotta do this!

I went home and told my Dad about it and told him I wanted to go hunting! Dad was a big fisherman and cared nothing for hunting but he was a great Dad. He took me to "the country".....a few miles outside of town where he grew up, which is now a shopping mall and Mack truck dealership and we shot his 22 at cans. He had a 22 and a 12 gauge languishing in storage. Later we did a little squirrel hunting nearby. When I killed the first one I was so excited it may as well have been one of the Tsavo lions. Later than that when I could somewhat handle the shotgun, we slipped up on some wood ducks and I bushwhacked one sitting on the water in a swamp and had to wade out to get him. I was about 21 or 22 before I managed to kill my first deer thanks to some guys I met in college so it took awhile from the day I saw the deer and hog in the back of the truck that day.


The same Dad got me a Browning BAR for college graduation. He was the best. Sure miss him.

I don't really know. There are a lot of things for which I just seem to have a natural affinity.

6 yr old kid in 1969 growing up in northern maine got a daisy red ryder for xmas.
Grandfather got it for me.
Been game on like donkey kong ever since.

LOL.

I turned myself on to them, I was fascinated by them.

I was born in 1950....... By 1955 I was playing with cap guns & squirt guns and watching all the guns on TV. Lots of local "big kids", ( 10-14 or so) had really cool stuff like BB guns. Local sporting goods store had racks full of new & used guns including tons of old Mausers, Lee-Enfields, etc., some of which were sporterized and left me drooling. My dad had a Model 67 Winchester 22 & a 16 ga. Iver Johnson break open single shot that was his pheasant gun in the early 40's . Back in the 1950's I thought rifle rounds all looked something like the 22lr's that dad's model 67 took. Because that's a rifle, right? First time I ever saw a .30-06 cartridge up close and in my hand I was dumbfounded by the huge size of it. Never could satisfy my gun curiosity, which is why I'm still trying.

Yep.

When I was three, my dad took me out and let me shoot his .30-30, with him helping hold it. His intent was to scare me away from guns so I wouldn’t play with them. (No earplugs) He had two: a Mossberg 22 for small game and that Marlin 336. They were just tools for hunting. His did not realize his intent, and by making them mysterious, he made me curious. Have been fascinated with them since. I have considerably more than two.
Side note, he died while hunting in 2003, holding that Marlin. Last year I shot a deer with it on the anniversary of his death.

Old70

Between Holcombville and Johnsburg, off Peaceful Valley Road and Back To Sodom Road. Oven Mountain. Not sure, but I think that was Warren County.

Dad bought me one ever now and then growing up, had the basics...shotgun, rifle, 22. Found a job working for a rifle tuning/gun shop while finishing college. Learned a lot about reloading, etc. Got to see a lot of old stuff I've never seen before. Really got into the old classic blued/walnut 22s after that.

The Saturday Western movies back in the early-mid 50s.. I got my first BB gun at about 6, got a better one at 8 - and I was so good with that thing I could keep an empty BB container dancing across the driveway w/o missing a shot.. A LOT of sparrows went to their grave via that Daisy pump...

old70, Sorry about your dad. Mine also passed in 2003....my grandad went way back in '69, but not before he made a hell of an impression on me. Every deer season I make it a point to hunt at least one day with my dad's 336RC .35 Rem and my grandfather's 760 pump in 300 Sav. There's some special magic that happens when I manage to fill a tag with one of those two rifles. I know exactly what you felt last year. Peace.

I think it was probably the early westerns. I really enjoyed them.

Napolean Solo & Illya Kuryakin...

I like this. Guns are everywhere when your young. I had cap guns, my brothers and I played cowboys and Indians. Then bb guns with the 1 pump rule gun fights (I always used 3 pumps). You see your Dad with his rifle and know its a big deal when he shot a moose or caribou. It was a matter of time for us all. I remember being in my room with a 22lr bolt action at about 5yo looking out the window. Cycling the bolt repeatedly pretending to shoot bears, intruders, bigfoot, ect.

It was my parent's fault. And Gramps, and uncles. Family trees on both sides infested with shooting loonies.

Like most, my father. What keeps me interested is it's something you can never perfect, you can only chase it.

My dad was a gun guy, loved to hunt and fish. And, TV helped, Cisco Kid was a favorite. I grew up in Rochester NY, in the 19th ward, my whole neighborhood played guns all over the place. Garage roof ambushes, driveways, back yards. The girls played too, they wanted to ne nurses when we got "shot". Playin Army was pretty normal back then. After that I was a competition Skeet shooter, thanks to Dad, and upland bird hunter. Ducks and Geese came later as well as deer with a slug gun. Once I joined the Coast Guard and travelled the US, rifles took hold of me and it's been that way ever since. I sill cherish a shotgun but don't get to use them as much anymore. The real joy for me now is watching my kids shoot, camp, fish and hunt.

My Dad shot for the FDNY rifle and revolver team at 50' .22 indoor matches. Every now and then he would let me tag along, I was hooked from that point on.

Dad's side of the family were not gun people. His only gun was a single shot .22 for varmint control and an occasional squirrel dinner. His dad's only gun was a pitted, loose fitting 16 gauge single shot. But mom's family were avid hunters. I grew up as a gun nut without any guns until I was 10 and dad traded a pig for a Winchester model 37 .410. Through my teen years I worked on the farm to earn gun money and had an Ithaca 37 12 gauge and a Stevens .22 semi. My first varmint rifle was a Remington 788 in .22-250 that I used on groundhogs and crows. No huntable deer population in my youth, so I didn't have a deer caliber rifle until I was in my 30s. From there it has been a fun trip.

When I got to college, and started making friends from the south. Some years after graduation, a friend from TX invited me and another old friend down to hunt an 1100 acre family ranch in south TX near Crystal City. Also, to hunt another piece nearer Galveston for ducks in the massive swamps bordering Louisiana. Blew my Yankee brain straight out my ears and nose. First thing I did when I came home from that trip was buy my first guns - a Benelli SBE and a Browning 7 RM. To say the experience down there was “formative” would be the understatement of my life.

I grew up on a farm so Dad had a .22 and a couple of 12g shotguns. When I got old enough he got me a Daisy bb gun. Not long after, I got my first shotgun for my birthday - a 20g bolt action Mossberg with a variable choke. Next came a .22 Marlin Model 60 for Christmas. Most of our shooting was on black birds, sparrows and groundhogs. We didn't do a lot of target shooting as I recall I guess because we never had an excess of ammo laying around. Don't really know why. I just remember always loving the feel of carrying a gun around. We didn't have many deer around, but we would always go deer hunting usually on Thanksgiving morning. We never got one. Back then it was Bucks only and it was a rare sight to see one. Other times we would go rabbit and quail hunting. I just remember loving to go.

Bought my first handgun - cheap 22 revolver, when I was 13 or 14. Dad had to buy it as I was too young. He wasn't much for handgun, but I had a trap line and I convinced it was something that would be handy while I ran it. Never could hit squat with it, but that didn't matter. Loved carrying it on my side.

Can't think of any one thing that turned me on to guns. Just sort of grew up with them.

Cool post, I had shot two partridge before grade one at 5 years old leaning over a car door while Dad coached me. We had little competition matches to see who could shoot the smallest group(with 22 rim). An old Cooey single shot wich he had altered the trigger & stock. Couldn't take the 22 out with anyone, was ok alone until at 14 when I got a licence after finishing hunter ed course. Walk across the street in town to the pool hall & bought a Mosburg pump with a spare slug bbl. No rifling but it was he// on partridge. Before this of course was BB guns, pellet guns. Dad was always on the trap line come fall & we spent much time trapping, hunting, fishing. I can still remember trying to take his big steps up the line in snow. I still walk those steps now, if not as big or long as much as I can. When he past on I lost my father but also lost my best bush buddy ever. Miss ya Dad. Bill out. 🐾👣🇨🇦

Tennessee

That's me. My Grandpa was a great squirrel hunter, Dad didn't care much for guns, but was a good shot.

A police friend had beagles, would come to our farm and we'd hunt swamp rabbits. Dad would go with us, had a Stevens double 12. He later bought Win M-37 .410's for us and Grandpa. Another friend had a .222 M-722 and we'd go crow hunting.

I got into reloading, bought a K-38 for $82. Still have it. That was all during my High School days. I later bought a 40-XB in .244 and got after crows and when buzzards harassed new born calves, put the hurt on them. Dad liked that.

It just blossomed from there.

DF

Grandfather was a gunsmith and I practically lived in his shop!!

it helps if you don't grow up in a city and like to run through the woods

My dad. He had 2 6.5 mm Arisakas, a 1917 Enfield and two 22 LR rifles. We used to shoot at a range near Lake Kensington in MI regurly. After high school I didn’t shoot again until after the LA riots. There was copy cat rioting/gang activity in Orange County, and I realized how vulnerable we were (wife and daughter). So I bought a shotgun and pistol. One of my newly acquired shooting buddies encouraged me to go hunting with him and I have been hunting pretty much every year for deer or elk or quail. Sometimes for yotes or squirrels. I also enjoy some occasional long distance shooting these days.

My first shot with anything other than a BB gun or cap pistol happened during a family hunting/camping trip when I was 6-7 years old. I kept pestering my brother to let me shoot his H&R Topper.410 and he finally relented. He told me to shoot a tree that was about 20 yards away. Didn't tell me he loaded it with a slug. Dang, that gun was so heavy I had to squat down and rest my arms on my knees. Ka-Boom! And there I was on my butt in the wet mud, laffing like a perfect little maniac. Drilled that old pine dead center, much to his surprise. I will never recover from my love affair with shotguns.

been shooting since i was 5 shot IPSC from 18 till 30. remember shooting my brother in the ass with my first bb gun.

i don't practice but could probably out shoot most with a pistol.

I got the usual love of it all from my friends and family. Dad didn't own a gun of his own until I was older.

My oldest sisters boyfriend/husband "Don" was the driving force. Hehad an Indian motorcycle and a chevy convertible while still in high school plus several guns. He could toss up a Crisco can and hit it two or three times with his K-38 before it made the ground. He gave me my first BB Gun, My first CF rifle and helped dad pick out my first .322 of my own. I will treasure his memory always.

I don't know that there was anything specific that turned me on to guns. I grew up watching Roy Rogers and I was fascinated with his trick shooting. I also remember seeing my Uncle Hank come home from deer hunting and thinking I wanted to do that some day. I finally got my wish when I was 18. He took me to his deer camp, loaned me a rifle and introduced me to the coolest bunch of old guys I've ever known. They were sticklers for safety and a couple of them had a gun dealing business at gun shows. Charlie was a hard core Ruger man and I've had a "thing" for Rugers ever since. My folks bought me my first gun, a Marlin 336 30-30 in 1977 and that pretty much opened the flood gates.

I don't remember not liking guns and shooting. I grew up hunting with my Dad and friends so it was a normal and fun thing to do. My Dad was a veteran of the Korean Conflict and an excellent marksman with a rifle. Not a bad wing shot either. He always credited his military training with his marksmanship skills. I miss hunting with him but we had a lot of great times together.

I don't know what got me interested in guns. Sure wasn't my Dad, Grandfather or the two uncles I had. They all had a gun but none of them hunted or took my brother and I shooting. My Dad joined a hunting club when I was in high school so I could hunt deer, but I knew that he wasn't interested in hunting. He probably wouldn't have shot a deer if it walked up to him and I seriously doubt he had any shells for his gun. I really appreciate him doing that. By then I was hooked...

The bang, the explosion, the smell of burnt powder. the beauty of blued steel and the pain shooting hot cartridges.
Putting a bullet where I wanted. Being accurate with a gun.

I like guns.i like gun powder.

I was born into a hunting family of many generations when men hunted to feed the family.

There were guns behind the kitchen door, laying on the dining room table, hanging in the back window of the truck etc. From my earliest memories. They were just tools and were always close by. The old man told me I could shoot any gun, anytime, as long as I asked. And he never denied me. From the earliest of ages. I never considered touching one unless given permission though. By 10 or so I was allowed to keep a .22 in my bedroom. I was allowed to hunt alone by then also, maybe a little earlier.
My son is 14 and no way in hell i'd let him hunt alone yet.

It's an inherently American trait. You can vote yourself into socialism, but you'll have to shoot your way out.

My father never owned a gun, my mom hated them. My brothers didn't own them. I am the bastard child.

kwg

My dad and quail hunting. In the beginning it was just shotguns and .22 rifles. I thought I had won a Winchester pump .22 at the State Fair in the shooting gallery, but the carny screwed me. Later on it was deer rifles, then handguns. I turned into a rifle looney while working on the pipeline, because I had the money, and it is addictive.

My dad was a State Trooper so I was around firearms from an early age. It just seemed part of life.

My Stepdad around age 15 or so.

My dad, a Stevens pump 16 ga. , and a case of paper shotgun shells.

When I was a little boy we had guns everywhere in the house, I never paid much attention to them, when I was about 4 years old my daddy decided to teach me how dangerous guns were if I played with them without him around. He found an old stray cat, took me out in the yard and shot that cat at about 5 yards with a 12 gauge, cut that sumbitch in half. I thought that was the coolest sheit ever, been hooked ever since. 😂😂😂

I was raised around them , so I can't tell you because I can't remember that far back.

Besides growing up in the 60’s thru 70’s, my uncle took me to the range age 14 and put me behind his 257 Wby Mk V.

Steven Segal

The angry voices in my head told me to get into guns....

Actually it was a friend of a friend who was into hunting that started it all for me but range shooting happened for several years before I ventured out hunting.

My Grandpa, big time. My grandparents were from SW Pa. That area is VERY rich in firearms and hunting tradition. This coupled well with being raised in rural N.C. I am very grateful to my Grandpa for getting me started in shooting and hunting. His Great Grandson took a buck with his Great Grandpa’s hunting rifle this past season.

They can neutralize enemies, foreign and domestic.

DNA

I come from a background in hunting and shooting on both sides of the family, and we always had guns around. From about the ago of 7 I was tagging along with various members of my father's side of the family, after rabbits and such, on the family farm and those of the neighbours (most of whom were related to me). I learned how to set traps before I learned to shoot.

maternal grandparents used to practice with a Flobert style pistol in their house in Zurich, and my mother's father had been introduced to big game hunting in Europe by his father, so they were pretty keen too, and this grandfather also introduced me to spearfishing from a young age, as well as getting me into the Swiss rifle club in Sydney.

IIRC I first fired a live round at 8, from my (paternal) grandfather's 20 ga. I was given my own rifle, a .22, at 10.

FWIW I learned to ride and fish at about the same time too, and to drive not all that much later.

My Dad had been interested in guns as a teenager and young man but sold most of them once he started dairy farming and raising kids. He did keep a Winchester model 67 22 LR and an Ithaca 37 20 gauge. As I got older I got interested in trapping and hunting and Dad got out the guns and taught my brother and I to shoot safely. He didn't tolerate any nonsense with guns. Out of that interest sprang my participation in the high school rifle club and rifle team. I shot on the varsity team for four years. My brother shot some but lost interest in college. I couldn't read enough and followed many of the gun writers of the 70's. O'Conner, Askins, Brown, Keith, Carmichael, Page, Whelen, Wooters, Milek and Skelton to name a few. I devoured every major gunmaker's annual brochure. The Herters catalog would be dogeared and worn beyond belief when the next edition arrived.

Dad could speak gun well though he didn't hunt anymore and didn't shoot, other than to dispatch a wood chuck on occasion or mete out justice on a marauding fox or raccoon. He always found away to let us hunt, trap and fish, as long as the chores were done.

In later years we would talk a couple times a week. He was a voracious reader and often had questions about one gun or another he'd read of in a book. I had to keep some of my reference books handy. He seemed to come up with some obscure gun questions fairly frequently.

Now, fifty years after my first lesson with a gun, the fascination still holds. My interests have varied from one genre to another over time but I am still a undeniable gun nut.

I don't have a clue.

Born in 64. Bonanza (loved Little Joe) and Gunsmoke on TV, not to mention all the TV cop shows, Star Trek with their phazers. Seemed to always have toy guns. Dad had a few guns I got to shoot by age 6 or 7. Shot gophers. He hunted a little.

As soon as I was legal age, 14, I bought my first rifle.

I just always loved guns, hunting and recreational guns. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian quality.

My father went hunting, fishing, and made things in the garage.
I wanted to be like him.

My grandson just turned 2. He waddles around in diapers with an electric screwdriver with full battery pack, trying to take the phillips head screws out of kitchen cabinets. He keeps saying, "tools tools"

He has seen me do handyman work at his house.

My 4 year old grandson told me he had a dream that we shot deer with rifles, cut them up, and fed them to lions and tigers. He knows the venison he eats came from me shooting deer.

Awesome post!!!

Grew up on a farm in a small bush town. The family had guns so I grew up using them daily. Given an air rifle as a birthday present when I was 12.

I was raised around them and liked them as far back as I can remember. I also watched a lot of westerns, cop and military shows and movies.

I don't remember a house that didn't have a glass-front gun cabinet or gun racks on the walls.

Most of my early childhood memories of my Dad involve either a hammer or a rifle in his hands. He was/still is a home builder and hunter at 75. He turned me on to guns, hunting and home building. Of course wife and our kids come first, but beyond them the other three have pretty much dominated my adult life.

I do not know. Neither my Dad nor my Grandfather, that lived close hunted. They fished but did not hunt. I had no children that lived close to play with, other than my Sister, and she was never interested in doing anything outdoors. I did listen to the Lone Ranger and Hop-a-long Cassidy on the radio. I got my first BB gun when I was five, and have been very interested in guns and Hunting ever since I can remember. miles

Not having any while growing up in Africa.

This life-long love affair with all things firearm/hunting was passed down from my late Dad. He gave me my first rifle, a single shot .22, when I was five, and instilled in me a healthy respect for firearms safety. I used to tag along with him on his Saturday morning rabbit hunts long before I was old enough to carry a shotgun. He never took me to his deer club, "too much drinkin' and cussin'." But he did take me on my first out-of-state deer hunt in Maine, in '72, when I was 14.

Grew up in a family that hunted and both my dad and grandfather packed a pistol on a daily basis. Got guns as Christmas presents, and my daddy started taking me hunting when I was old enough to shoot, about age 6.