Granddaddy's Gun

[CPAjeff]

Back in 1949 two members of the “greatest generation” were married and settled in a small town. The young bride came from an affluent family; the young groom came from quite the opposite. The young bride wanted to give her husband a special wedding present. Knowing of his love of pheasant hunting and wanting him to have the best, the young bride purchased a beautiful new Browning Auto 5 and gifted it to her new husband. Being both products of the great depression and WWII, the gift symbolized their future life, past and future sacrifices for each other, and devotion to each other. The shotgun was taken care of with such care and love, that it aged like fine wine. Over the next four decades, these two raised their kids, and lived full lives. In 1988, the young groom passed after a long battle with cancer. The young bride, with plenty of years left to live, was quoted multiple times saying, “Why would I be interested in marrying someone else at my age? I had the husband I wanted for the past four decades, and there will never be another one like him.”

I was six months old when my grandfather passed, so I don’t have anything other than the shotgun and stories that serve as memories of him. Every time I was at my grandma’s house, I would pester her endlessly to see grandpa’s shotgun. Every once in a while, she’d give into the pestering, let me get out his gun, recount how much he loved her, and how much she loved him. I asked her a couple times if I could take it hunting, each time I was told, “Absolutely not!”

It hasn’t been too long since my grandmother joined my grandfather in the after-life and I really hadn’t thought much about my grandfather’s shotgun. One day, while chatting with my Dad, I was informed that my grandfather’s shotgun ended up at the ranch in the Dakotas. The annual trip to the Dakotas is a something I look forward to with absolute excitement. This year was nothing short of spectacular in terms of birds, but I had one thing I wanted to do more than anything. I wanted to walk the pheasant-rich fields of the Dakotas with my grandfather’s gun.

As I pulled the gun out of the case, memories flooded back of sitting at my grandmother’s house and listening to those wonderful stories over and over. I headed out behind the house with one of my favorite people in the whole world – my 10-year-old son. As we rounded the back fence, almost as a scripted act, a lone rooster cackled in a small tree line. We made our way over to the tree line, the unmistakable sound of a flushing rooster broke the silence of the morning. The rooster flushed straight away, and crumpled at the shot. There was a tear in my eye as I walked over to the rooster and picked him up. Shooting my grandfather’s gun was something that I had dreamed about for years and years growing up. However, after one shot, I was completely satisfied and walked back to the house and put the gun away. I’ve shot plenty of rooster pheasants over the course of my life, but this one was the absolute best.



Full limits were reached every day that our group hunted. The Dakotas are a special place!

 

[Reata]

That is awesome picture of your son, the browning and the rooster!

 

[arkelkhntr]

Back in 1949 two members of the “greatest generation” were married and settled in a small town in Northern Utah. The young bride came from an affluent family; the young groom came from quite the opposite. The young bride wanted to give her husband a special wedding present. Knowing as a new comer to the family, the young groom would be invited into the pheasant hunting fold by his father-in-law. Not wanting the young groom to feel out of place, the young bride purchased a beautiful new Browning Auto 5 and gifted it to her new husband. Being both products of the great depression and WWII, the gift symbolized their future life, past and future sacrifices for each other, and devotion to each other. The shotgun was taken care of with such care and love, that it aged like fine wine. Over the next four decades, these two raised their kids, and lived full lives. In 1988, the young groom passed after a long battle with cancer. The young bride, with plenty of years left to live, was quoted multiple times saying, “Why would I be interested in marrying someone else at my age? I had the husband I wanted for the past four decades, and there will never be another one like him.”

I was six months old when my grandfather passed, so I don’t have anything other than the shotgun and stories that serve as memories of him. Every time I was at my grandma’s house, I would pester her endlessly to see grandpa’s shotgun. Every once in a while, she’d give into the pestering, get out his gun, recount how much he loved her, and how much she loved him. I asked her a couple times if I could take it hunting, each time I was told, “Absolutely not!”

It hasn’t been too long since my grandmother joined my grandfather in the after-life and I really hadn’t thought much about my grandfather’s shotgun. One day, while chatting with my Dad, I was informed that my grandfather’s shotgun ended up at the ranch in South Dakota. The annual trip to South Dakota is a something I look forward to with absolute excitement. This year was nothing short of spectacular in terms of birds, but I had one thing I wanted to do more than anything. I wanted to walk the pheasant-rich fields of South Dakota with my grandfather’s gun.

As I pulled the gun out of the case, memories flooded back of sitting at my grandmother’s house and listening to those wonderful stories over and over. I headed out behind the house with one of my favorite people in the whole world – my 10-year-old son. As we rounded the back fence, almost as a scripted act, a lone rooster cackled in a small tree line. We made our way over to the tree line, the unmistakable sound of a flushing rooster broke the silence of the morning. The rooster flushed straight away, and crumpled at the shot. There was a tear in my eye as I walked over to the rooster and picked him up. Shooting my grandfather’s gun was something that I had dreamed about for years and years growing up. However, after one shot, I was completely satisfied and walked back to the house and put the gun away. I’ve shot plenty of rooster pheasants over the course of my life, but this one was the absolute best.

View attachment 300191

Full limits were reached every day that our group hunted. South Dakota is a special place!

View attachment 300192View attachment 300193

Excellent write-up. Fine looking boy, and a shotgun well taken care of.

 

[Steelsearchin]

Oh hell yeah, that picture needs to be framed! Thank you for this post.

Mom's dad passed away 27 years ago tomorrow and Grams finally joined him last year. Rarely does a fall day pass when I don't think of him. He grew up hunting roosters in Michigan's thumb and I loved hearing those stories as a kid. After Grams passed I inherited the 12 gauge Beretta that she bought for him and my brother got his 20 gauge Browning o/u. The gun hadn't been shot in 20+ years, but it joined me on a trip to NoDak this fall. Killing roosters over my pup with Gramps's old shotgun was a highlight.

I've got no idea if Gramps ever drank a Grain Belt, but we had a little tailgate toast is his honor that night, as he used to say, "To the nicest people we know!"

 

[.270Rem]

Somewhere there is a picture of 10 year old me with my Dad's A-5 holding a greenhead taken on the first duck hunt I joined him on. Dad was so cool that day!

Great memories and keep shooting that shotgun. Make your grandfather and John Moses Browning happy.

 

[Huntnut60]

A family group of 10 (brothers, cousins, son-in-laws, nephews) went pheasant hunting in Kansas in 2021. We all had guns our fathers had hunted with and passed down to us. It was an unbelievable collection of Brownings, Parkers (some reproductions), Ithacas: all over-and-unders and side-by-sides. All gauges were represented also; 12, 16, 20, and 28. I hunted with a 20g Browning Superposed, a 20g Ithaca 280, and a 20g Winchester 101. I'll look for some pictures.

 

[GeneralLefty]

Nice one!

 

[bowhuntmontana]

I love this. I have one of my grandfather's guns. His initials are carved into the forestock. I love everything that gun represents and reminds me of.

Thanks for sharing this personal experience.

 

[Goat358]

About 4 years ago my closest uncle called and told me that I could have my grandfather's shotgun that had been hunted with by not only my Papaw but each of my uncles as they got old enough to shoot and hunt with it. Its a Remington model 11 16ga. The original barrel is a plain 28" with a Poly Choke. Up until about 25-30 years ago deer hunting in Louisiana pretty much meant hunting with hounds. My Papaw frequently hunted from horseback as did my uncle who gave me the shotgun. There is no way to know how many deer, squirrels, rabbits and ducks that were killed with this old gun. The bluing is gone over most of the gun and the stocks are dark with age and hard use.
This year I bought a 25 CT box of Aguilla 16ga No.1 buckshot and played with the Poly Choke until I got patterns tight enough to cleanly take deer at 45-50yds consistently. I also have a very small supply of Winchester 16gaslugs. The few times I hunted with it I had a slug in the barrel backed up by the buckshot. On one occasion I hunted my way through the edges of thickets around a nearly dry creek. In that instance I started out with slug in the barrel but soon switched to all buckshot because it was so thick. I did manage to jump a buck but was unable to get a shot through the thicket.
Though the gun is battered and scarred I am very proud to own it. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get an opportunity to kill a deer with it this year but hopefully in seasons to come I can make that old 16 roar and take a buck like those who've gone before me. After I'm able to take a deer I'll be passing it on to my son who has already been taking small game with it. Hopefully generations to come will use this old gun to take game long after I'm dead and gone.

Goat358