First "New" Gun: I was 12 years old and I wanted an all-purpose shotgun because we lived in a shotgun county (deer hunting for non-hunters) and I had a budding interest in upland game hunting. I remember perusing hunting and gun magazines for about a year. I read reviews, compared prices, got my heart set on an 870. It didn't hurt that dad had one in his cruiser everyday. I remember pestering him excessively the summer before I actually got it. I think our whole vacation was me attempting to convince him it was time to get me one. I laid all my information out and told him what I really wanted. When he told me he thought the 870 was too expensive I was crushed.
When we returned home from vacation our neighber had an old Browning BPS he was selling for $100. It was sitting right in his garage one day when dad and I went to help him with something. I begged and pleaded with dad, but he wouldn't buy it. I thought I'd never get my shotgun. It wasn't long after I found a box in the rafters for an 870. When I asked him about it, he said it was an old box from a friends shotgun. I almost believed him, then he reminded me that 870's were a little too expensive. I was crushed again.
Christmas Eve was painful. I'd begged and pleaded. I even found a winchester 1200 that was way cheaper at kmart just a few weeks before Christmas. When I told dad about it he said he'd check it out. But in my heart I thought I'd have to wait another year before I realized my dream of owning a shotgun. I couldn't sleep the whole night. When we finally awoke I opened the smallest box first. It was a box of #8 shot 12ga rounds. I knew immediately what was in the biggest box. I don't think I have a fonder Christmas memory. I sat on the couch racking the slide for hours. I marveled over the craftsmanship of my new Remington 870. The bead blasted bluing. The perfect wood stock. My love of firearms was firmly established, more than ever, at that very time in my life.
When dad died I put her in the safe. I haven't shot her since. One day I will, but for now the memories are too painful. Every time that shotgun was in my hands dad was with me.
A .22Cal Target Rifle in 1964 so I could join the Target Team in High School.Thought this might be a good chance for all us up and coming old-timers to wax nostalgic on our first gun and the memories of it.....