I learned to shoot when I was fifteen at my local PAL club. I learned gun safety and how to shoot a .22 rifle. I’m fifty-eight so that gives you an idea of how long ago it was. And, no, I haven’t shot anybody.
I don’t believe I have shot anybody either. My Mom bought me a .22 signature Marlin when I was 13.
I have it to this day and it is very close to the best Christmas present ever.
My 10 speed at 10 and my Tyco Chattanooga Choo-Choo at 9 are on the list.
I’ve decided they all get #1.
That’s OK. I’m 69. My dear Dad used to take us cousins just up the road from my Aunt’s house so that the Moms could prepare Thanksgiving dinner. He set up a target in an empty field, gave us the gun safety lecture and had us all plinking at targets with a 22.