In the early 1950's; my Grandfather took me to a neighboring cattle ranchers home, where we borrowed a single-shot 16 gauge and 4 or 5 shells: He had me shoot it at a coffee can which I hit, and he said "You're ready." He took me duck hunting to a swamp, letting me out at one end while he drove to the other end. Someone had said "You gotta lead those Widgeons a box car if the wind's behind them." So, a lone duck came by with the wind, and I shot....the fore-end came off in my hand, the barrel went up in the air, and I'll be danged: the duck dropped like a stone. I am in my 70's now, but will always remember that first shot at a bird.
Sam Ogle, Lincoln, Ne
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