March Photo Challenge – Loud.

Abe, Grace, Calvin

We went to the shooting range today so that Abe could teach Grace how to use their gun.  I must still have an immature startle reflex because loud bangs still trigger it.

Calvin has always enjoyed guns.  He's very conscientious and careful in handling them and taught the kids to be the same.  Abe has also loved guns.  When he was young he would play with the same pistol shaped stick for weeks.   Then later he graduated to a broken b.b. gun.  One day he was mad at Ty and, since he couldn't have b.b.'s yet, filled the barrel with dirt and rocks and took aim at him.  When Calvin found out he took that gun and busted it over his knee right in front of Abe.  It traumatized Abe, mostly because he couldn't have a gun for quite a while after that.

While I like shooting (being outside and pulling the trigger), I do not like handling guns.  They still scare me.

When I was young Grandpa Hoops used to take us rabbit hunting.  He'd load us kids and the guns in the back of his station wagon and drive up the road a mile to the sagebrush covered hill.  There were lots and lots of jackrabbits then.  One time he had three of the big kids lined up waiting for a rabbit to jump out of the bush.  They were taking f-o-r-e-v-e-r to shoot.  They waited and aimed, and aimed and waited for a good shot.  After what seemed several minutes, I decided I had enough time to run to the other side of them before they fired.  I ran right in front of all three loaded and aimed guns.  It was almost a John Dunbar moment (Dances with Wolves) except no one mistook my act for bravery.  Grandpa yelled, and not just a little.  I also had the despise of the older kids on me.  I felt so very, very stupid.  I waited in the car after that and wished that afternoon had never come.  I still feel sick about it, except now it is for Grandpa's sake.  Can you imagine?  

A few years later I took gun safety, but I couldn't wink.  The instructors were two bachelors, brothers, and they said we had to be able to close one eye.  They also said we'd have to pay for the expensive light above the target if we missed and hit it.  I practiced and practiced winking, but I couldn't keep my eye closed.  One day I found that if I rubbed my eye real hard it would stick shut for a couple of seconds.  Later at gun safety I got down on my belly ready to shoot the rifle.  Bachelor One lay next to me and said, "Take aim and shoot."  I rubbed my eye just like I'd practiced then pulled the trigger.  Hang the bull's eye, my goal was to keep my eye shut and not hit the light.  Success.  Next round I did the same thing, but this time the Bachelor worried something was in my eye.  I hurried and shot before he could look in it.  I didn't hit the light.  Success twice.

Now I can wink . . .

 . . . and that bull's eye is mine.  Best part is I called it before the shot.  Calvin said, "Where are you aiming?" and I said that I was going for the middle of the waist.  It was my only recorded shot for the day (I shot one earlier but aimed at the wrong target, so maybe I really hit two bull's eyes =).