My Dad took my brother and me out to the river in Paducah, Kentucky.
He had an old Ranger .22 pump rifle. He put a dime in a knot hole on a tree and backed me up a few feet and asked me to shoot it. After showing me how to work the action and engage the safety, he let me shoot it.
I hit the dime and the bullet only ripped a gash in the dime. I hit it on the edge. I still have the dime and I still have the rifle.
He introduced me to shotguns at a creek by throwing cans in the air and letting us boys shoot at them.
The only gun he bought me was a J. C. Higgins .410 single shot.
Neither of us have those guns today and my brother does not shoot.
Dad got me hooked for sure.
I still hear his voice every day. . .