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I grew up in San Antonio, Texas on rodeos and cowboy movies. The first record I ever owned was a '78' vinyl rendition of The Lone Ranger. The first movies I can recall were Lash LaRue and Hopalong Cassidy. For some years, my favorite event was going to the rodeo to hear the singing cowboys. And my favorite Christmas present was a ping pong rifle which I carried around with me along with a fine pair of toy gun six-shooters and a Davy Crocket coonskin cap.
As a boy in Texas, my older brother Joe IV was known to take pot shots at birds in the backyard with a bb gun. I would go out to the country for unsupervised target practice with friends. As an Eagle Scout, I can still recall fondly the smell of gun cleaning oil, of taking a part a gun and putting it back together and supervised target practice. Somewhere along the line, however, I gave up guns. Though my paternal grandfather had numerous deer heads on his wall, my own father never truly liked hunting. My Dad did own a .30-30 for a while, but mostly talked about not wanting to kill bugs bunny or bambi. Once in a while in my adult life I have succumbed to the lure of skeet shooting, but for the most part I have lived gun-free. The closest call I have ever had with guns is being stopped at a light in downtown San Antonio when the driver of a car came around me from behind and shot into the car in front of me. In recent years, the closest personal contact I have knowingly had with guns is at semi-public events and friends' weddings and at a recent photo 'shoot' of Sportsmen and Sportswomen for Mark Warner (C-ville Weekly, June 19-25, 2001), where I was the only one willing to hold the gun. The gun, itself, was unloaded.
My younger brother John, however, who has remained down in Texas, has been known to enjoy a quail and pheasant hunt from time to time.
If you have stories about growing up with guns, please send them to
george@loper.org where the most representative will be posted on my website
with full attribution.
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