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The Range
Firearms Chat
whats your most sentimental firearm?
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<blockquote data-quote="Brandi" data-source="post: 2393668" data-attributes="member: 24446"><p>I actually have a few that hold much sentimental value to me for the same reason. One is a Winchester 94 .44 magnum purchased new by my father during the 70's when the first .44 magnum were released. It was the only rifle he owned and he used it for hunting deer, elk and whatever else came along, it worked so well it was all he needed. </p><p></p><p>The second is an old .410 shotgun, she's in rough shape and so old even the tape holding it together predates my birth. I've debated having it repaired but there's a certain charm to it as it is it's own time capsule. The little .410 was spied by my father when he was a boy sitting in the window of the local hardware store with a sign saying it was used and the price (which I can't remember). My father said he wanted it the moment he saw it. Being one of 14 kids none of then owned many things for themselves and had take turns sharing everything including the mule they rode to school. Two kids at a time and the rest walked the several mile distance to school and back with the next day bring a new set of riders.</p><p> </p><p>My father grew up poor on a farm in rural Oklahoma where the opportunity to make money was almost nonexistent so he had to get creative. He finally settled on hunting coyotes for the bounty at the time so every evening after the farm chores were done and nobody else was using the old shotgun they all shared he would ride the mule out into the night and try to get as many coyotes as possible. After quite a long time and considering the bounty on each coyote was only a few cents he finally earned enough to buy it. He rode the mule into town, put his sack of change on the counter and walked out the happiest kid in Oklahoma.</p><p></p><p>Many years later my father, now serving in the military, met my mother and they were married. These were the days of the Korean war and then the Vietnam war so my parents were moved from base to base and then my father was sent to Vietnam. My mother spent long periods of times without him and raising us children so that little .410 was allocated to her as her personal home defense gun. Many years later my father retired after 22 years and we returned to Oklahoma all the while that little shotgun, now quite a bit worse for wear, still stayed under my mothers side of the bed until it was decided that it had reached retirement also. Unfortunately it was only a few short years after my fathers retirement that he passed away and when I left home to start my own life that .410, his Winchester 94 and a few others came with me since I was the only one who hunted and shot guns.</p><p></p><p>The third gun is a little Remington 514 .22 single shot bolt action rifle. I hadn't owned anything other than a BB gun previously but one day while spending the day with my father he was visiting a friend of his. I wasn't too interested in what was going on but I was interested in all of the guns this friend of my father had on the walls and around the room. He was an avid hunter and the dark stained wood walls were covered with head mounts, fish, photo's and the guns. I didn't know anything about any of them but I liked guns so I was studying each one intently. Apparently I drew the attention of my father and his friend because the friend asked if I liked guns and, of course, I agreed. He asked if I had any of my own and I said I had a BB gun (a very sweet Daisy Winchester 94 clone). He pointed towards a corner at the end of a sofa and there was this old .22 rifle and he told me I could look at it so I picked it up and dusted it off. He asked if I liked it and although it was old, well used, had a broken front sight and basically looked like something nobody would want, to me, it looked like the greatest gun in the world.</p><p></p><p>I stood there holding it and being careful not to touch the trigger or point it at anyone (my father was very strict about teaching gun safety before I could shoot my first BB gun) because I knew my dad would have a fit and that would be the end of it. Then his friend said something like "you like that huh? Well, I don't use it much anymore so I would be willing to sell it to you if you want it, I'll take $10". I was in shock...I didn't know what to say so I just turned to my dad and stared at him. He laughed and said "well...are you going to buy it?", I nodded "yes", and he said "well pay the man". That's when my heart crashed into my stomach...I was a little girl without a penny let alone ten dollars so I sadly said to my dad "I don't have ten dollars" and he said "I suppose I can loan you the money"...at that point I was on cloud nine and I brought it home with me.</p><p></p><p>When we got home and my mother found out she was none too happy and it took awhile for her to sign off on the idea but after that it was all mine. I didn't know very much about .22's of any kind so my father taught me what I needed to know and said the gun needed work before we could shoot it. That was a real downer, I hadn't even thought about the broken front sight. This all occurred very near Christmas and on Christmas morning one of my gifts was a rifle scope! It was a basic Bushnell 4x scope but to me it was the fanciest scope in the world. My dad said he would have to take my rifle to have it worked on so we could mount the scope and a few days afterwards he took it with him and when he came back it had brand new scope rings and my new scope mounted on it. It was, without a doubt, the coolest rifle that had to ever existed in my eyes and we quickly went out to the pasture to sight it in. Dad set up a target and walked me through how to adjust it for elevation and windage. Once it was sighted in we took turns shooting the target and after a little while he handed me the gun and the ammo and said "be careful, remember your gun safety and have fun". That was it, I was full fledged gun owner at age 12.</p><p></p><p>The next year was our last and my entire world changed for the worst. My father passed away and without any kind of life insurance we basically went from normal happy family to a single mom with four kids and no income so that .22 rifle meant the world to me. At some point the cross hair wires broke and the gun went into retirement but last year my sister talked me into replacing the scope (which I still own) with another 4x to stay original. I bought a Nikon 4x and mounted it on the gun, gave the rifle a good cleaning and took it to the range. It was quite a day...the old gun isn't so impressive by modern standards, the trigger is extremely wobbly like it was the first day I got it and it still shot like a dream, putting tiny little holes right next to each other in the bullseye. I absolutely love this little rifle. I still remember how my dad would joke about how the scope work on that gun cost 10 times more than the gun did lol.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Brandi, post: 2393668, member: 24446"] I actually have a few that hold much sentimental value to me for the same reason. One is a Winchester 94 .44 magnum purchased new by my father during the 70's when the first .44 magnum were released. It was the only rifle he owned and he used it for hunting deer, elk and whatever else came along, it worked so well it was all he needed. The second is an old .410 shotgun, she's in rough shape and so old even the tape holding it together predates my birth. I've debated having it repaired but there's a certain charm to it as it is it's own time capsule. The little .410 was spied by my father when he was a boy sitting in the window of the local hardware store with a sign saying it was used and the price (which I can't remember). My father said he wanted it the moment he saw it. Being one of 14 kids none of then owned many things for themselves and had take turns sharing everything including the mule they rode to school. Two kids at a time and the rest walked the several mile distance to school and back with the next day bring a new set of riders. My father grew up poor on a farm in rural Oklahoma where the opportunity to make money was almost nonexistent so he had to get creative. He finally settled on hunting coyotes for the bounty at the time so every evening after the farm chores were done and nobody else was using the old shotgun they all shared he would ride the mule out into the night and try to get as many coyotes as possible. After quite a long time and considering the bounty on each coyote was only a few cents he finally earned enough to buy it. He rode the mule into town, put his sack of change on the counter and walked out the happiest kid in Oklahoma. Many years later my father, now serving in the military, met my mother and they were married. These were the days of the Korean war and then the Vietnam war so my parents were moved from base to base and then my father was sent to Vietnam. My mother spent long periods of times without him and raising us children so that little .410 was allocated to her as her personal home defense gun. Many years later my father retired after 22 years and we returned to Oklahoma all the while that little shotgun, now quite a bit worse for wear, still stayed under my mothers side of the bed until it was decided that it had reached retirement also. Unfortunately it was only a few short years after my fathers retirement that he passed away and when I left home to start my own life that .410, his Winchester 94 and a few others came with me since I was the only one who hunted and shot guns. The third gun is a little Remington 514 .22 single shot bolt action rifle. I hadn't owned anything other than a BB gun previously but one day while spending the day with my father he was visiting a friend of his. I wasn't too interested in what was going on but I was interested in all of the guns this friend of my father had on the walls and around the room. He was an avid hunter and the dark stained wood walls were covered with head mounts, fish, photo's and the guns. I didn't know anything about any of them but I liked guns so I was studying each one intently. Apparently I drew the attention of my father and his friend because the friend asked if I liked guns and, of course, I agreed. He asked if I had any of my own and I said I had a BB gun (a very sweet Daisy Winchester 94 clone). He pointed towards a corner at the end of a sofa and there was this old .22 rifle and he told me I could look at it so I picked it up and dusted it off. He asked if I liked it and although it was old, well used, had a broken front sight and basically looked like something nobody would want, to me, it looked like the greatest gun in the world. I stood there holding it and being careful not to touch the trigger or point it at anyone (my father was very strict about teaching gun safety before I could shoot my first BB gun) because I knew my dad would have a fit and that would be the end of it. Then his friend said something like "you like that huh? Well, I don't use it much anymore so I would be willing to sell it to you if you want it, I'll take $10". I was in shock...I didn't know what to say so I just turned to my dad and stared at him. He laughed and said "well...are you going to buy it?", I nodded "yes", and he said "well pay the man". That's when my heart crashed into my stomach...I was a little girl without a penny let alone ten dollars so I sadly said to my dad "I don't have ten dollars" and he said "I suppose I can loan you the money"...at that point I was on cloud nine and I brought it home with me. When we got home and my mother found out she was none too happy and it took awhile for her to sign off on the idea but after that it was all mine. I didn't know very much about .22's of any kind so my father taught me what I needed to know and said the gun needed work before we could shoot it. That was a real downer, I hadn't even thought about the broken front sight. This all occurred very near Christmas and on Christmas morning one of my gifts was a rifle scope! It was a basic Bushnell 4x scope but to me it was the fanciest scope in the world. My dad said he would have to take my rifle to have it worked on so we could mount the scope and a few days afterwards he took it with him and when he came back it had brand new scope rings and my new scope mounted on it. It was, without a doubt, the coolest rifle that had to ever existed in my eyes and we quickly went out to the pasture to sight it in. Dad set up a target and walked me through how to adjust it for elevation and windage. Once it was sighted in we took turns shooting the target and after a little while he handed me the gun and the ammo and said "be careful, remember your gun safety and have fun". That was it, I was full fledged gun owner at age 12. The next year was our last and my entire world changed for the worst. My father passed away and without any kind of life insurance we basically went from normal happy family to a single mom with four kids and no income so that .22 rifle meant the world to me. At some point the cross hair wires broke and the gun went into retirement but last year my sister talked me into replacing the scope (which I still own) with another 4x to stay original. I bought a Nikon 4x and mounted it on the gun, gave the rifle a good cleaning and took it to the range. It was quite a day...the old gun isn't so impressive by modern standards, the trigger is extremely wobbly like it was the first day I got it and it still shot like a dream, putting tiny little holes right next to each other in the bullseye. I absolutely love this little rifle. I still remember how my dad would joke about how the scope work on that gun cost 10 times more than the gun did lol. [/QUOTE]
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