My grandfather, one of the last old-time cowboys. He rode horses long before ever getting a car, taught me how to shoot, how to play gin & solitaire, and the value of hard work at a young age. We'd drive into the hills and shoot, and my first time shooting over the backstop was my last. He gave me my first BB gun. It was a sad day when Alzheimer's ravaged his once-keen mind. An unscrupulous family member took almost all of his guns when he died, but I treasure the .22 rifle & pistol that we salvaged. I grew to be almost as tall as he, but always remember him as a giant.
Oh, and my Guns & Ammo subscription expired in 1986, just barely into my teenage years. I remember drooling over the "Machine Gun Annual" and daydreaming about buying one at age 21. Little did I know...