My most prized possession
October 1st, 2005When I was six years old, my dad set out to teach me to shoot. He had a nice .22 semi-auto rifle with a scope and could draw pictures with the bullet holes on the target paper. He gave me my first rifle, but I couldn’t quite get my short, little arm around the stock to hold it properly. It’s a lever action, single shot .22.
My dad had a friend that was a gunsmith. He took “my” rifle to him and had the stock shortened so I could hold it properly. Years later my dad told me where that rifle came from. His father bought it when he was 14. Grandpa bought it brand new for $1.75. That was some time before the Great Depression. Around 1915 or 1916, I think. My father was one of eight children and seven of the eight were boys. He got that rifle because he was the only one that showed any interest in shooting as a hobby. The others only learned it because they had to for survival.
Many years after that and after my father’s death, I had a friend that was a fanatical gun collector. He had all the dealer books and we went looking for my rifle to see what it might be worth. There’s no record of it ever having been produced. It’s an Ithaca. That’s stamped clearly on the barrel. “Ithaca Gun Co., Ithaca, NY.” There are a lot of listings for Ithaca in the dealer books but no record that they ever made a .22 rifle. Yet I have one.
What’ll ya give me for it?
That’s not enough. If the stock hadn’t been cut, I’d imagine it would be worth a lot of money, being so rare. But the stock has been cut and you can’t buy it. It’s priceless for a number of reasons. My daddy taught me to shoot with that gun and I’m teaching my daughters with it. My grandfather bought it new back when a quality rifle could be had for $1.75 and had by a fourteen year old “child.” It’s now “damaged” because my daddy loved me enough to have it altered to fit me.
That’s what daddies do. If you want it, you’ll get it empty. Don’t expect that it’ll be that way when you knock on the door to take it.
You’ve got a special item there. Take care of her, and your daughters will be able to teach their own to shoot with it.
Hats off for teaching your daughters to shoot. I think maybe I’ll have my dad take me out for some target practice when my folks come down for Thanksgiving – it’ll be good for both of us. Nothing like a little shooting for father-daughter bonding, right?
Yeah, I have my father’s old 410 which was his grandfathers as a boy. I may never shoot it again, but it’ll stay with me till one of my girls has a boy, and I’ll hand it on to him.
I taught both my girls to shoot. It’s one thing they (everyone) better know how to do.
I wish my dad had been the type to teach us how to shoot. I did learn to use a rifle in summer camp back when I was 8 or 9, but it’s been so long now I’m sure I wouldn’t remember much. My husband keeps saying he’s going to teach me but we never seem to find the time. DC & Billy, your daughters are blessed to have dads that are looking out for them!
I also inherited a 16 gauge from my Dad. Unfortunately, I was young and stupid and sold that one way too cheap before I was old enough to have some sense.
I sold it to a cousin for 75 bucks and shortly after that everyone stopped making 16 gauge shotguns. It was probably worth 3 times what I sold it for at the time and increased in value after.
But I’m not one to cry over spilt milk. I still have the single shot my grandaddy bought and Dad’s semi auto .22. I dare ya to even suggest taking them from me.
I remember my dad teaching how to shoot when he was still working as a farmhand in the West Aust wheatbelt areas back in the 1950s. .22 bolt action single shot. Even thouigh I’ve never owned a gun of my own, I remember that old gun with affection. I quickly became an expert shot and dad always left the shooting of vermin to me. The good days before his alcoholism took hold. Good memories.