Though neither of my mother's first two husbands had been kept around long enough to have much of an impact on my life, her third lasted the longest. They began seeing each other probably when I was around thirteen years old, and finally married when I was seventeen. Frank had two rifles kept stashed away, and my mom, very gun-shy, made sure we never saw them.
I was eighteen early in 1985, and was making every effort to land a career in law enforcement (in fact, I'd already signed up for the US Army, but was disqualified when I reported to MEPS on my active-duty date because of the discovery of inner ear damage from an injury sustained in a criminal attack earlier.)
Frank decided to sell the rifles due to non-use, and convinced my mother to let me buy one of them, a Winchester Model 190 in .22LR. The other was only known as "a .30-30", and I never knew what make it was, having never clapped eyes on it. She agreed, provided he go with me to teach me to shoot it, which he did. Back then, we just drove out of town, found a safe backstop, and shot away.
Once I had the gun, he taught me about safe handling, safe storage, and cleaning, even asking to "inspect" it once in a while. This was the first firearm I had ever handled, and I kept it with pride.
Frank died in 1986 and, shortly after the funeral, his son, whom I had never met, came around and asked about the gun. Perhaps it had been one he had been taught with, too. I let him take the Winchester with him, and my mother had no qualms by then with me replacing it with another rifle, which I did (Ruger 10/22, which I still own.)
I don't think I ever saw another Model 190 after that in the flesh. Until yesterday (EDIT: actually June 14th.) The LGS I frequent had one when I stopped in. In fact, they actually had two of them. I was already attracted to a pistol I found in there, and decided to leave with the lower-priced of the two Winchesters along with it. There is some bluing loss about the barrel, but not severe, and the rest of the gun looks firm and tight. Now, the gun sits on my kitchen table, ready to be cleaned and "inspected" much like that first one was so many years ago..