Whiskeyhotel2020
Member
First off let me just say this post is lengthy I wanted to do the memory justice.I appreciate being able to share stories about some of the firearms I inherited from my dad. He's been gone for a year now and being able to share the history behind the firearms I got from him has really helped lately.
My dad had a very large collection at the time he passed. I don't know how many times he would say that he wanted to have a huge yard sale. We would laugh because it would rival some of the gun shows we've been to. Between his holster collection to the sheer number of firearms and related accessories. It would always come down to him telling me that my brothers and I need to get to the house so we could discuss what was to be done when he died. Other times he'd just tell me that my brothers and I would have our choice of one rifle one shotgun and one handgun and the rest of the collection gets sold off. Then he'd tell me that he was thinking of just splitting everything into thirds and "you boys will do whatever with 'em." I would simply tell him that however he wanted it was fine by me. That usually got followed by his, "yeah right if you had it your way you'd get them all." Truth is I would give them all up if I could just talk to him one more time.
My dad used to call about once a month. Usually when he hadn't heard from me. The conversation would always start with "You'll never guess what I just picked up." He would try not to tell me but by the time we'd hang up I'd know what his latest treasure was. Well, the very last phone call I got from him was months and months from the last time we spoke. I figured he was upset with a decision that I made and he disagreed with or something. I would stop in and say hi but wasn't able to stay long. It turns out he thought he lost my number. Well, he was reading a book for the second or third time and found the paper he wrote my number on being used as a book mark. We had a great laugh and then out came the usual phrase followed by a list a firearms that I needed to come over and see. Only this time when we hung up he held out. He told me he got something that I'd never expect. The only clue he gave me was that it was old new. My mind instantly starting picturing reproductions of Winchesters, single action revolvers, various Browning's. Never in a million years would I have guessed the gem he would proudly pull out the next time I was home for a visit. It wasn't under the best circumstance that brought me home that morning. My dad listened to the problem that i was having and just reassured me that he and mom had my back.
As we talked about the latest going on with my younger brothers, the last cute thing the cat did, the outcome of his last VA appointment, I was looking at his last few purchases. A Browning A5 circa 1956, a reproduction of a Highwall in 38-55, an engraved Remington 700 in 22-250, and another Winchester model 12 12 gauge. Dad reached over and pulled a brown rectangle box off a shelf and declared,"This is the most expensive firearm and only absolute safe queen he has ever bought." The box had a printed wood grain pattern that I recognized even without seeing the word Colt printed in the center. My mind instantly guessed that a pretty SAS was inside. Dad opened the box reveling a beautiful blued 6 inch Python. All original paperwork including the test target. He picked it up at a gun show. It was made In the 70's and had never left the the gun shop shelf. Thats right unfired (outside the factory) never owned by anyone other than the gun shop shelf it went to and my dad. It was the last firearm my dad ever brought home and the last time I would hear "I'm not telling you what I picked up since the last time." He sent into the hospital two days later. The three of us boys got to pick a rifle, a shotgun, and a handgun (I'm sure I'll post those stories at some point). Mom didn't like firearms when she met my dad, tolerated them while they shared there lives together, she kept only 1 of dad's guns and that is that legendary snake gun. Not because of monetary value but because that was the last time she remembers him excited (like a kid in a toy store inside a candy store on Christmas morning. Thank you again for the kindness and patience all of you have shown. I'm happy that I can be part of this site.
My dad had a very large collection at the time he passed. I don't know how many times he would say that he wanted to have a huge yard sale. We would laugh because it would rival some of the gun shows we've been to. Between his holster collection to the sheer number of firearms and related accessories. It would always come down to him telling me that my brothers and I need to get to the house so we could discuss what was to be done when he died. Other times he'd just tell me that my brothers and I would have our choice of one rifle one shotgun and one handgun and the rest of the collection gets sold off. Then he'd tell me that he was thinking of just splitting everything into thirds and "you boys will do whatever with 'em." I would simply tell him that however he wanted it was fine by me. That usually got followed by his, "yeah right if you had it your way you'd get them all." Truth is I would give them all up if I could just talk to him one more time.
My dad used to call about once a month. Usually when he hadn't heard from me. The conversation would always start with "You'll never guess what I just picked up." He would try not to tell me but by the time we'd hang up I'd know what his latest treasure was. Well, the very last phone call I got from him was months and months from the last time we spoke. I figured he was upset with a decision that I made and he disagreed with or something. I would stop in and say hi but wasn't able to stay long. It turns out he thought he lost my number. Well, he was reading a book for the second or third time and found the paper he wrote my number on being used as a book mark. We had a great laugh and then out came the usual phrase followed by a list a firearms that I needed to come over and see. Only this time when we hung up he held out. He told me he got something that I'd never expect. The only clue he gave me was that it was old new. My mind instantly starting picturing reproductions of Winchesters, single action revolvers, various Browning's. Never in a million years would I have guessed the gem he would proudly pull out the next time I was home for a visit. It wasn't under the best circumstance that brought me home that morning. My dad listened to the problem that i was having and just reassured me that he and mom had my back.
As we talked about the latest going on with my younger brothers, the last cute thing the cat did, the outcome of his last VA appointment, I was looking at his last few purchases. A Browning A5 circa 1956, a reproduction of a Highwall in 38-55, an engraved Remington 700 in 22-250, and another Winchester model 12 12 gauge. Dad reached over and pulled a brown rectangle box off a shelf and declared,"This is the most expensive firearm and only absolute safe queen he has ever bought." The box had a printed wood grain pattern that I recognized even without seeing the word Colt printed in the center. My mind instantly guessed that a pretty SAS was inside. Dad opened the box reveling a beautiful blued 6 inch Python. All original paperwork including the test target. He picked it up at a gun show. It was made In the 70's and had never left the the gun shop shelf. Thats right unfired (outside the factory) never owned by anyone other than the gun shop shelf it went to and my dad. It was the last firearm my dad ever brought home and the last time I would hear "I'm not telling you what I picked up since the last time." He sent into the hospital two days later. The three of us boys got to pick a rifle, a shotgun, and a handgun (I'm sure I'll post those stories at some point). Mom didn't like firearms when she met my dad, tolerated them while they shared there lives together, she kept only 1 of dad's guns and that is that legendary snake gun. Not because of monetary value but because that was the last time she remembers him excited (like a kid in a toy store inside a candy store on Christmas morning. Thank you again for the kindness and patience all of you have shown. I'm happy that I can be part of this site.
