Dad taught me the basics with a Winchester.22 air rifle. I must have been 8. Plenty of coke bottles fell to that gun. That was the only gun in the house till I got a muzzle loader around 16 yrs old.

Left IL. 15 years ago I’ve done my best to add a new gun every year.

I was about 9 or 10 years old the first time that I got to shoot a real gun. I was with my grandfather on his families land in Kentucky. He had a Marlin 22 auto loader. After some instruction on how to load the rifle, aim, keep it pointed in a safe direction, the mechanical safety... he let me load the rifle and shoot it.

I thought I was the biggest baddest person in the world, and was as happy as I could be.

Though we had a couple in the house growing up, never fired a real one until almost 11. A brother in law took my younger brothers and I back to a sand pit. Winchester model 190 and a couple of boxes of .22 Longs I believe. Drink cans. This past Sunday I went out to Cabela's and two other dealers to just kill time; had to touch the two 190s I saw but didn't bring one home.

Shooting my Dad’s S&W Model 15 out in the Everglades in the early 1970s.

My uncle taught me to shoot at a sand pit in northern MN. Old Winchester 22LR semi auto with tip-off scope, which I was fortunate enough to inherit when he died (for nostalgia, not worth).

Every summer from maybe age 9 until my teens we would buy a couple of boxes of 22LR from the corner store and head off to the sand pits one afternoon for some fun of shooting at cans or target I drew up. He'd also bring along his 30-06 and lever action 30-30, but I never shot those, just him.

I guess I fired a BB gun at the Cub Scout summer camp before my uncle took me shooting, but it really didn't excite me like the days with the 22LR.

My dad taught mt to shoot my first gun in the basement. We lived in the suburbs outside of Philly.

It was a colt scout single shot in .22 with about 9 inches of barrel. He had a small steel bullet trap on a stand across the basement. I remember him loading one round where I could not see it and had me dry fire until I reached the round to break me of flinching.

Later he taught me to shoot a rifle on a .22 pump (not in the basement)

When he passed I inherited both of those guns.

I would have to say at about the age of 14 at Boy Scout camp. We lived close to a city and I didn't know anyone that owned firearms back then. I do remember a few tough guys in car clubs that had Zip guns, but no real firearms. I didn't get my first shotgun until I moved to Fla. in 1972.

Dad served in Korea but no guns in our house or family at all. My wife got me into archery which got me into bowhunting. Guns came next and I learned that you're never done buying more.

My dad taught me. Gave me a Crossman .22 pump single shot pellet gun when I was 5. I struggled to pump it twice but I grew into it and still have it today. Dad was a hunter and collector so there were always guns around in my earliest memories.

My first glimpse of a real handgun aside from the Police, was the grip of a chiefs special sticking out from my fathers pocket.

He was showing it to my older brother at the kitchen table... I walked in, he quickly had put it in his pocket.

We live in Brooklyn at the time 1968ish.
I asked if it was a handgun, he said it was just a tool... I knew better.

Anyhow, a couple of years later, at his studio on 6th ave., someone tried to break in while We were there.

Being a small space, my father moved us to the side, thumbed back the hammer and quickly opened the door... he moved back at the same time and stuck the revolver in the mans face.

He muttered some jibberish about being in the wrong place, my father agreed and said, tell all your friends not to fuck with his place.

Never had a problem again.

After that episode, and what seemed a lifetime, I turned 12 and my father bought me my first rifle, Marlin 39a.

Before that, my fathers friend gave him a Mossberg .22mag chuckster for my older brother, at 10, he slid me onto the firing line and let me have a couple of shots... I was enamoured.

My dad built a shooting tunnel in the basement for my BB gun. Plywood panels on three sides, a bit excessive for a BB gun. My dad probably spent more time building it than I spent shooting in it.

No real guns in the house until my dad drove me to Coast-to-Coast hardware store to purchase a Ruger 10-22 with my paper route money when I was twelve.

Several times dad dropped me off at a farmer friends house to stomp through the woods hunting squirrel.
I shot "one".

At seventeen the U.S. Army taught me to shoot the M16A1 and M60 machine gun.

Purchased my first pistol and shotgun when I was in the U.S Air Force, yes I switched branches after finishing high school.

Then the Bill Clinton gun ban hit, I panicked, bought my first Colt AR and the rest is history.

Both of my daughters were NRA Life members at three months.
The whole family enjoys shooting with my youngest daughter shooting on her high school team.

And that's my introduction to guns story.

I grew up with air rifles and joined the rifle team in JROTC. Those .22 trainers hooked me for life. Like a lot of folks, I've passed this hobby down to my children.

the first three people that I had telling me about guns were extremely delinquent in their duties
Dad ,brother and some guy that took me walking, oh he claimed that it was hunting, ( for pheasants) but all we did was walk through muddy a cornfield for three hours.

no rules , no tips and hints, no guide lines, no techniques or target practice,zip.

this was in my early teens.

I learned about ricochets from shooting pump action Benjamin pellet gun, at a coffee can , on its side so the plastic lid was the target,
the only problem was , the backstop was a steel garage door

Hmmm... very first experience my grandfather decided it'd be funny for me to shoot his 12 GA deer shot gun. I was about 12ish. A very light weight break open single shot. BLAM and back I went into a mailbox. Yup a mailbox. That made me afraid of guns for a long time. Fast forward to 16 and I was going to use my Mom's .30-30 to go on my first deer hunt with my Step-Dad. With that mailbox still in the back of my mind I settled behind it and cringed and popped off a round. I missed the bull by about 1/2". And it didn't really kick all that much. Then I was hooked. I figured if I almost hit the bull while cringing I decided to actually try and nailed it dead center. Went out that weekend and took a 120lb 6 point buck. My Mom bought me my first gun when I was 17. It was a blued Ruger GP100.

I went to my cousins house in another city when I was in my early years. Up next to his bed was a bolt action military rifle. Wow! I thought it was really cool. A few years later I saw some surplus Mauser rifles for sale at Kmart for a few bucks and also surplus Ammo. So I bought them and off I went to my house. Later that night my dad came home from work, and saw it in my bed room. He asked me where the hell I got that, and then really unloaded on me. It seems I forgot he was in the Greek Army when the Nazis and
Mussolini’s boys ocuppied his village and chased them all around the mountains with tanks and Stukas. He told me to get the hell out and get rid of that thing. So I took it over to my friend Gary’s and stored it there until he bought it off me. I guess the old man had no sense of humor.
A while later I bought a WincHester 9422 which I shot the heck out of, and still have.

quote:

Originally posted by SpinZone:
My dad taught mt to shoot my first gun in the basement. < snip >

Is your last name Clemenza?

When I was 7yrs old my father took me out and let me fire his Webley 38 (war finish) that he got through the mail a few years prior for $15.00. Couldn't hit shit with it but I was hooked from then on. When he passed I ended up with it plus his other guns. Ended up giving it to my sister because she fell in love with it and wanted one of Dad's guns.