![]() “Always carry it with the hammer down on an empty chamber.” He then loaded five rounds, cocked it and then carefully lowered the hammer and re-holstered the revolver without looking at it and slipped the leather thong over the hammer. “Here’s the first thing you should know about a handgun,” he said as he inched a couple of cartridges from the loops on the gun belt. Withdrawing the revolver from the holster, he motioned his son and me to come to him. The cartridges in the loops on his belt were bigger than my thumb at the time. To me it looked just like the one Matt Dillon used every week on “ Gunsmoke.” It had a long barrel, a beautiful and wickedly curved hammer, and the grips were white with dark stripes (I know now they were stag, or at least faux stag). Standing out among those recollections was that as soon as we got there, my buddy’s dad strapped on a great big ol’ six-gun. And although my memory gets fuzzy about a lot of things, that weekend and the experiences with real guns remain as clear as a mountain creek. There were several memorable events for me during that exciting weekend more than five decades ago. We spent the time fishing, hunting and shooting. For a 7-year-old boy this was going to be quite an adventure. I must have been about 7 years old when a friend invited me to spend a weekend with his family in the hills on their property. ![]()
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