I grew up with guns, but maybe a little differently than others. My parents ran a small country store/gas station and my father always had a pistol close at hand. By the time I was 8 or 9 I had gone with my parents to an old gravel pit and fired the pistol. There were always hunters around as well. Though I never was a hunter myself I often went out with customers especially rabbit hunting.
Boy Scouts, ROTC in college, and the Army continued my interest. In ROTC I became familiar with the M1911, the M-14, and the M-60 MG. In officer basic at Ft. Knox (Go Armor :banana: ) I used the M-16, 7.62mm coax machine gun, Ma Deuce .50 cal in the TC turret, and my personal favorite the 105mm main gun on the M60 tank.
After the military I sort of let my interest lie dormant for about a year. In July 1974 my parents store was robbed. My mother was the only one in at the time and one decided it would be cute to slap her around. They also took my father's pistol in the robbery. By the way the one who did the slapping is currently serving 7 consecutive 20 years sentences as a result of the robbery. We in Alabama do not take slapping a 55+ year old women lightly. My father said the day it happened, "They may get the money, but they will not get out with it." He started immediately to arrange so that there would be a weapon within reach where ever he was in the store. He also applied that next day for a concealed carry permit. He bought a little High Standard .22 magnum derringer to carry in his pocket. He borrowed a 12 ga. pump with an 18" barrel and had his own 16 ga. cut down. He borrowed a .38 revolver from his sister. Her late husband had been issued the revolver as a B17 crew chief during WWII and when it was replace with a .45 M1911 he was able to keep the .38.
In July 1975, almost exactly one year after the other robbery, another attempt was made. This time my father was in the store. A man came up to the counter (this was an old country store with a counter where you placed orders), pulled a snubby .38, and ordered my father away from the cash register. As my father moved to his right down behind the counter he started to reach into his right pants pocket. A second robber was at the door and shouted to the first robber, "Look out he's got a gun." My father dropped to the floor instantly and the robber killed two jars of jelly up on the shelf behind where he had been standing. My father was now behind a store safe that weighed about 900 lbs. and also had a commercial freezer between him and the robber with the gun. Old country stores often had just bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling for light. Ours did and one hung just in front of the counter. When the robber stepped back from the counter his head brushed the light (He was tall and the light hung fairly low.) My father had at that time been running this store for 29 years and he knew every inch of it. When the light moved my father knew where the robber was so without looking the raised his hand with the derringer in it and fired at the place he knew the robber had moved to. The robber tried to shoot two more times and the gun only clicked. My father then stood up with the .38 aimed and fired two shots. The armed robber fell and the second one fled the scene.
It was shortly after this I got a call that there had been a shooting at my father's store. I lived about 10 miles away. I took off to the store and met and ambulance on the way. By the time I arrived the floor was clean except for the outline of the body. While I was there the state crime lab people and the sheriff's deputy who had responded to the shooting returned and said that the dead man had only three holes in him. BTW two of the holes were made by the .22 mag derringer rounds and one by the .38. One of the .22 rounds had gone into the right cheek and broken some teeth before exiting. The second round had hit in the right side of the neck and had ripped the jugular vein in two. The .38 round had hit squarely between the eyes. A new dent was found in the base of an old table fan and since the round could not be found in the wall next to the door it was assumed that it had ricochetted out the door and was lost.
About a week later the head of the crime lab ,who also taught at the community college where I was employed, came by and wanted to talk to me. He said, "George, I don't want you to misundersand this, but I wanted to tell you that was the prettiest head shot I have ever seen." He said that my father could not have centered the shot between the robber's eye brows if he had waited until the man fell and then placed the barrel between the eyes and fired. He also said that the robber was already dead by the time the .38 round hit him. He had bleed to death from the .22 round that went through the jugular. The .38 only knocked him down and there was no bleeding from the .38 wound. The man had fallen during the time it took my father to fire the second round so the second round went through the empty space where the robber had been standing.
As an asside, 10 days after the robbery attempt the second man was picked up in Atlanta and sent to our county jail where he died refusing medical treatment for a large wound in his right kidney. The autopsy revealed that the wound was from a very badly flattened piece of lead that weighed exactly what the rounds in the .38 my father was firing weighed.
My cousin, the son of the .38 owner, bought my father's business in 1979 and still runs it. One robbery and one attempted in one year has been followed by almost 31 years without a single attempt. My father gave my cousin the .22 derringer as part of the store furnishings when my cousin bought the business. After my father's death my cousin gave me the derringer. I still have it and fire it occasionally. My cousin has the .38 and, though I have offered more than it is worth, refuses to sell it.
After the shooting my interest in guns was restored and because of that and a few other things there has been a gun in my house since then. Within the past year or so some things have happened that caused made me consider concealed carry and as a result both my wife and I have concealed carry permits. I carry anytime I am awake except in the shower. There are guns within easy reach wherever you are in my house. My wife is still trying to decide how best to carry her Bersa .380. We both have taken pistol training and of course she is the better shot. She has been invited to shoot in some competitions but hasn't decided whether she wants to or not.
You now have more than you ever wanted to know about the origins of my interest in guns. :redface:
