I have a tradition I started many years ago. I inherited two guns from my grandfather: a 16 gauge Winchester Model 12 and a Savage takedown pump .22 LR. Technically the shotgun is my brother's but he has yet to lay claim 
. Both are in beautiful shape and I even have the original takedown canvas case for the Savage.
Backstory: Growing up, my immediate family was non-gun. Not necessarily anti-gun, there were just none in the house and the issue never came up. My father is a classic college professor liberal, one who's positions are well thought out and heartfelt. While he and I disagree on many issues, I learned from him the importance of compassion, personal responsibility and the civic duty to make a difference through, for lack of a better phrase, "good works and deeds". BUT, no guns, no hunting, no tromping through the woods of any kind.
My grandfather was different. A bricklayer from northern Ohio, he hunted and fished all his life, bagging his fair share of rabbit, squirrel, woodchuck, a variety of upland birds and a mess of pike and perch. He often took trips to Michigan and upstate New York to do so. He stopped hunting long before I knew him. And while I enjoyed fishing with him, it was only a little before the time he died that I myself started shooting - feeding that life long curiosity about firearms.
Which brings us back to the model 12 and pump .22. Every spring, when it starts to warm up and it is pleasant again to be outside, I haul my trap thrower, that old model 12 and that .22 out to the range. For maybe an hour I will dust a few clays from the air then pick off the larger fragments with the Savage.
I won't shoot a lot, price of 16 gauge alone assures that, but for a short while I get a little taste, I think, of what I missed by a few years: sharing some good shooting with my grandfather, or at least his guns.
. Both are in beautiful shape and I even have the original takedown canvas case for the Savage.Backstory: Growing up, my immediate family was non-gun. Not necessarily anti-gun, there were just none in the house and the issue never came up. My father is a classic college professor liberal, one who's positions are well thought out and heartfelt. While he and I disagree on many issues, I learned from him the importance of compassion, personal responsibility and the civic duty to make a difference through, for lack of a better phrase, "good works and deeds". BUT, no guns, no hunting, no tromping through the woods of any kind.
My grandfather was different. A bricklayer from northern Ohio, he hunted and fished all his life, bagging his fair share of rabbit, squirrel, woodchuck, a variety of upland birds and a mess of pike and perch. He often took trips to Michigan and upstate New York to do so. He stopped hunting long before I knew him. And while I enjoyed fishing with him, it was only a little before the time he died that I myself started shooting - feeding that life long curiosity about firearms.
Which brings us back to the model 12 and pump .22. Every spring, when it starts to warm up and it is pleasant again to be outside, I haul my trap thrower, that old model 12 and that .22 out to the range. For maybe an hour I will dust a few clays from the air then pick off the larger fragments with the Savage.
I won't shoot a lot, price of 16 gauge alone assures that, but for a short while I get a little taste, I think, of what I missed by a few years: sharing some good shooting with my grandfather, or at least his guns.
