About 50 years ago I was sneaking up on a pond with my dad in the panhandle of Oklahoma. We had been pheasant hunting and my dad spotted a couple of mallards land on that pond. I was about 6, it was bitter cold and my heart was pumping and I was so excited. He was going to let me shoot those ducks. They were already dead in my imagination. As we made it to the top of the dam he put that 16 gauge Remington 58 under my arm(I wasn't big enough to shoulder it) got lined up and told me to get ready.

When the ducks flew I pointed what may as well have been a howitzer in the general direction of those ducks as they kicked in the afterburners and pulled the trigger. The rear of the receiver hit me in the nose, the bolt latch cut my my hand in recoil because my hand wasn't big enough the use the pistol grip and reach the trigger. My eyes teared up but I did not cry nor would I. Everything hurt and was compounded by the cold and on top of that I missed.

I was hooked from that moment on. My dad started my love affair for hunting and firearms in that few seconds of agonizing pain. That is one of my most vivid memories as a child with my dad. As the years went by I used the 58 to kill many quail before it just got too hard to find shells for it. He still has it and it'll be me in my safe one day. Awesome memories.

Yea...some memories last a lifetime !!