Keepsakes and family history

I grew up in a household where guns were kept, enjoyed, and used for both recreation and hunting. All of us siblings were schooled in the proper use and safe handling of the firearms. My parents never had to use any of the firearms for personal defense, but I’m sure either one would have if the need arose. My father learned that lesson as a child.

When I was a little kid, my parents told a story about when my dad was a kid, and his family lived in the Missouri Ozarks (sometime in the late 1920’s or early 1930’s). One day, a guy came to the house and wanted to see my grandfather, who wasn’t home at the time.

My grandmother answered the door and told the man her husband wasn’t there. The guy wanted to know what time my granddad would be home. Apparently, his attitude was less than friendly, and my grandmother refused to answer. When she tried to close the door, the guy stuck his foot between the door and the jam and acted like he was going to force his way into the house.

My grandparents kept a Colt model 1903 in 32 ACP caliber hanging on a nail next to the door just in case things went “south.” This area was remote and while there were a lot of good people living there, folks still had to be careful of the few “less than upright” citizens who moved through the vicinity. In the time period of the story, the Great Depression and other social upheavals were happening. This guy apparently was one of those degenerate types.

As the guy was trying to force his way into the house, my grandmother reached up and took the pistol off the nail. She pointed it out the door and fired; I don’t remember how many times or if that was even mentioned. The guy collapsed on the porch. My grandmother closed and locked the door and immediately called her two brothers who were also living in the vicinity.

The brothers arrived at the house and my grandmother explained what had transpired. The guy was dead. The brothers “disposed” of the body, probably by weighing it down and dumping it into one of many, deep lakes in the area. The man was never seen nor heard from again, obviously, and nobody knew where he had been that day. There was no investigation because the guy was known to be a degenerate type, and folks figured they were better off without him in the area. I guess this was one of those “don’t ask, don’t tell” situations.

This was the version my mother finally told us kids after we were adults. When we first heard the story as children, the story was that my grandmother had pointed the gun out the front door and scared the guy off without ever firing a shot. I guess my mother thought that telling the true story would have traumatized us, knowing our grandmother had actually killed somebody, even if it was in self-defense.

I have keepsakes from three of my four grandparents. I never knew my mother’s mother since she died a few years before I was born. I have my mother’s father’s pocket watch which my grandmother gave him as a present when he returned from fighting in World War I. I have my dad’s father’s custom built deer hunting rifle which my grandfather had built from a German military rifle and a 22-caliber pistol he used when he went hunting. And, I have that Colt model 1903 pistol which my dad’s mom used to protect herself and her kids that day long ago.

I have never considered myself a gun collector, but when I think about it, I could make some interesting displays if I ever chose to. I could do a pre-hammer block safety display of older Marlin rifles; or a display of some of the assorted early twentieth-century Eastern deer hunting rifles. I could do a reasonable display of some of the various styles and calibers of the long-discontinued Savage model 24 combination guns; and I could do a smaller display of one particular style of the discontinued Mossberg bolt-action shotguns in 410, 20-, 16-, and 12-gauge varieties.

I just found the 12-gauge Mossberg in an online auction and am waiting for it to arrive. Buying that gun made me realize I am a “sort-of” gun collector because I had no other reason to buy it than to complete the collection.