My great uncle Charlie who lived in Philly had a brother Frank who lived here in suburban MD; one of Frank's closest friends was an ex-Canadian Mounted Policeman who pursued, cornered and captured a desperado who had killed another Mountie with a M 1911 Colt .38 Super. When the ex-CMP died he left the Super to Frank. When in our early teens, my father would take my brother and I over to visit old Frank periodically, and we always found a way in conversation to have Frank show us the gun again. There was always something sinister yet beautiful to me about the gun; knowing it had taken the life of a lawman but remaining in what I remember today would be referred to as a 90-95% gun. When Frank died he left the gun to his only son, also a lawman in the MP. Telling their histories is another way to preserve the heritage of the men and women who made and used them in the romantic as well as the violent past.
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