Gifts...

sm · December 20, 2002, 02:50 AM

The elderly gentleman wipe the sweat from his brow, placed a shotshell in the chamber, closed the breech, snicked another shell in the magazine. He found his hold point--PULL-IT...dust,PULL-IT dust. Harvey had just smoked fifty straight with his Model 12.

For all the time I knew Harvey he had been 75. Standing tall, erect, sun -worn skin, gray in the beard and in the ends of the ponytail, under the summer Stetson it was full and dark. His eyes were dark-almost black, these eyes had seen a lot.

Before we headed to the air-conditioned club house, we stopped at the old Ford pick up. Harvey reached for the old leather tobacco pouch, inside he removed from the wax paper a length of leather with a slit cut in it. He threaded through the chamber the other end, before the slit entered the breech, Harvey slipped a piece of old T-shirt wetted with the contents from the red and yellow can and pulled it through the bore. Model 12 was now safely in the cotton duck case, the Winchester Gun Oil , pouch and its contents, in the outside pocket.

The dark eyes had read the Western Union Telegram, 'Nam had taken his only son. His eyes had shown the love of fifty years when he lain his bride to rest. Eyes,hurt and angered upon retuning home from the cemetary and all the displayed guns were stolen.
It wasn't so much the guns as the memories of he and the bride shooting skeet and trap together. The game taken and the intruders scared off. He had passed these eyes onto his daughter, both sets had wept when the drunk had killed her husband returning from deer camp. Angered eyes had read all the government meddlin' with peoples rights' over the years. Saddened and angered he viewed people being run over and not standing up for themselves. Eyes which he used to tie the leather around the ponytail in Civil Disobedience.

" Run to the house and have dinner with us, daughter , and grandson fixin' catfish , pitcher of tea, a purple onion--you can help me do the hushpuppies".

Cindy and Jason had to run to town after supper. Harvey said "got something to show you --young uns' don't know about this, you gotta promise , its a "gift". Harvey had only a Gov't 45 ACP , a Model 94 top eject and Model 19...that I knew about, the 45 was carried-always, the others had been in the hidden safe. He instructs me to head up in the attic, and retrieve a box from a foot locker. As I dust myself off, Harvey gently reveals a NIB Model 12, leather case, and the accessories. "This-well I bought two at the same time, figured I'd have a grandson some day worthy...Jason done right well, proud of the boy, he loves to shoot the Super X model 1 like yours at clays and such. He uses that tube set right well...but he's a shucker like me and you. Boy has borrowed my 12 so much -he thinks its his. Steve, promise if something happens- well -you know do the right thing".

I was awestruck!! Here I was shouldering a gun like the pictures I had seen in the 1955 Field and Stream magazines. I had few from the year I was born. The smell of the leather, the gun to metal fit, the unopened can of Winchester Gun Oil. Harvey comes in , grinnin' ear to ear, " yeah I guess mine's a bit of a character compared to that one. Truth is -people recognize me by my 12 or Gov't model...may not know my name...they know me by my guns".

Cindy was going to fly up and shoot the opening day of dove season with her late husbands' family. Harvey, Jason and I naturally would join the gang at the range for opening day. Plans were set we'd meet at Harvey's, go to the farm, shoot and eat the BBQ we always had. That's when we would surprise Jason with the model 12.

I arrived at Harvey's, Jason hadn't made it yet, so I let myself in . I had a bad feeling upon entering. No smell of coffee, no breakfast smells. I closed Harvey's eyes, kissed his forehead, and called the Sheriff.

I heard the screen door slam and braced myself, Jason burst past the Sheriff, I grabbed him and he shook as he wept.

A small memorial service at the Funeral Home, the ashes were to be scattered in the old pond, Harvey wanted to join his bride in her wishes.

"Thats...Thats a gun!" The lady new to the funeral home said. "You can't have a gun in here. I replied " that's a signature not a gun". One look at me, over my shoulder to Cindy, Jason, and all the gang from the gun club...she huffed away, shaking her head.

Jason scattered the ashes. I handed Jason the NIB Model 12. He grabbed a paper shell from the old box. He stepped up , shouldered fired one round over the pond. Cindy stepped up fired one round over the pond. I stepped up fired a round in Harvey's honor. Each person followed in same manor.

As each person fondled the paper shell, looked over the pond and watched the setting of the sun...Jason retrieved from the old Ford pickup the leather tobacco pouch...feeding the leather from the chamber he pulled from the muzzle...adding a bit from the red and yellow can he wetted the cloth fed into the slit, and pulled slowly...the 12 would be removed from the old cotton duck case and placed lovingly and respectfully into the hidden vault. It would never be fired again. Once a year the signature would come out and fire one round in honor and respect. Often Harvey's other guns would be handled and cared for, memories of the gifts of firearms, gifts of memories of days's afield,at the range, of what rights, responsibilities, gun owners cherish. This is the best GIFT Harvey gave to Cindy, Jason, everyone's lives whom he touched. I type this proud to have have recieved this gift also.

Steve

.....

This is a true story. The names are real. Cindy and Jason are doing well. Cindy and Jason have moved away to be with her late husband's family. I was granted permisson to share this with you , because like Harvey--Rich, the moderators, and the TFL family have shared GIFTS. Gifts with are "kept by giving away". Cindy and Jason agreed, since TFL will be shutting down but kept for all to recieve , this is a great way to continue to share Harvey's Gifts. May we all Surpass what Harvey and TFL has taught and given to us

s

Dave McC · December 20, 2002, 05:56 AM

Thanks! You made my morning a little better even...

johnbt · December 20, 2002, 09:36 PM

Well I'm old enough and grumpy enough to not be at all embarrassed to say...

Thank you for sharing that. Truly.

John

sm · December 21, 2002, 10:00 AM

Thanks
But the thanks go to you all
Still think the best "natural resource" around, are the people been around a while.
Like Sam said to me once: Age- comes if you live long enough
Maturity - is earned and comes from
learning and listening...

too many have shared and worked to preserve freedoms, taught others. some just had more years on 'em than others...tis all

December 20, 2002, 02:50 AM	#1
sm Senior Member Join Date: February 5, 2002 Posts: 1,819	Gifts... The elderly gentleman wipe the sweat from his brow, placed a shotshell in the chamber, closed the breech, snicked another shell in the magazine. He found his hold point--PULL-IT...dust,PULL-IT dust. Harvey had just smoked fifty straight with his Model 12. For all the time I knew Harvey he had been 75. Standing tall, erect, sun -worn skin, gray in the beard and in the ends of the ponytail, under the summer Stetson it was full and dark. His eyes were dark-almost black, these eyes had seen a lot. Before we headed to the air-conditioned club house, we stopped at the old Ford pick up. Harvey reached for the old leather tobacco pouch, inside he removed from the wax paper a length of leather with a slit cut in it. He threaded through the chamber the other end, before the slit entered the breech, Harvey slipped a piece of old T-shirt wetted with the contents from the red and yellow can and pulled it through the bore. Model 12 was now safely in the cotton duck case, the Winchester Gun Oil , pouch and its contents, in the outside pocket. The dark eyes had read the Western Union Telegram, 'Nam had taken his only son. His eyes had shown the love of fifty years when he lain his bride to rest. Eyes,hurt and angered upon retuning home from the cemetary and all the displayed guns were stolen. It wasn't so much the guns as the memories of he and the bride shooting skeet and trap together. The game taken and the intruders scared off. He had passed these eyes onto his daughter, both sets had wept when the drunk had killed her husband returning from deer camp. Angered eyes had read all the government meddlin' with peoples rights' over the years. Saddened and angered he viewed people being run over and not standing up for themselves. Eyes which he used to tie the leather around the ponytail in Civil Disobedience. " Run to the house and have dinner with us, daughter , and grandson fixin' catfish , pitcher of tea, a purple onion--you can help me do the hushpuppies". Cindy and Jason had to run to town after supper. Harvey said "got something to show you --young uns' don't know about this, you gotta promise , its a "gift". Harvey had only a Gov't 45 ACP , a Model 94 top eject and Model 19...that I knew about, the 45 was carried-always, the others had been in the hidden safe. He instructs me to head up in the attic, and retrieve a box from a foot locker. As I dust myself off, Harvey gently reveals a NIB Model 12, leather case, and the accessories. "This-well I bought two at the same time, figured I'd have a grandson some day worthy...Jason done right well, proud of the boy, he loves to shoot the Super X model 1 like yours at clays and such. He uses that tube set right well...but he's a shucker like me and you. Boy has borrowed my 12 so much -he thinks its his. Steve, promise if something happens- well -you know do the right thing". I was awestruck!! Here I was shouldering a gun like the pictures I had seen in the 1955 Field and Stream magazines. I had few from the year I was born. The smell of the leather, the gun to metal fit, the unopened can of Winchester Gun Oil. Harvey comes in , grinnin' ear to ear, " yeah I guess mine's a bit of a character compared to that one. Truth is -people recognize me by my 12 or Gov't model...may not know my name...they know me by my guns". Cindy was going to fly up and shoot the opening day of dove season with her late husbands' family. Harvey, Jason and I naturally would join the gang at the range for opening day. Plans were set we'd meet at Harvey's, go to the farm, shoot and eat the BBQ we always had. That's when we would surprise Jason with the model 12. I arrived at Harvey's, Jason hadn't made it yet, so I let myself in . I had a bad feeling upon entering. No smell of coffee, no breakfast smells. I closed Harvey's eyes, kissed his forehead, and called the Sheriff. I heard the screen door slam and braced myself, Jason burst past the Sheriff, I grabbed him and he shook as he wept. A small memorial service at the Funeral Home, the ashes were to be scattered in the old pond, Harvey wanted to join his bride in her wishes. "Thats...Thats a gun!" The lady new to the funeral home said. "You can't have a gun in here. I replied " that's a signature not a gun". One look at me, over my shoulder to Cindy, Jason, and all the gang from the gun club...she huffed away, shaking her head. Jason scattered the ashes. I handed Jason the NIB Model 12. He grabbed a paper shell from the old box. He stepped up , shouldered fired one round over the pond. Cindy stepped up fired one round over the pond. I stepped up fired a round in Harvey's honor. Each person followed in same manor. As each person fondled the paper shell, looked over the pond and watched the setting of the sun...Jason retrieved from the old Ford pickup the leather tobacco pouch...feeding the leather from the chamber he pulled from the muzzle...adding a bit from the red and yellow can he wetted the cloth fed into the slit, and pulled slowly...the 12 would be removed from the old cotton duck case and placed lovingly and respectfully into the hidden vault. It would never be fired again. Once a year the signature would come out and fire one round in honor and respect. Often Harvey's other guns would be handled and cared for, memories of the gifts of firearms, gifts of memories of days's afield,at the range, of what rights, responsibilities, gun owners cherish. This is the best GIFT Harvey gave to Cindy, Jason, everyone's lives whom he touched. I type this proud to have have recieved this gift also. Steve ..... This is a true story. The names are real. Cindy and Jason are doing well. Cindy and Jason have moved away to be with her late husband's family. I was granted permisson to share this with you , because like Harvey--Rich, the moderators, and the TFL family have shared GIFTS. Gifts with are "kept by giving away". Cindy and Jason agreed, since TFL will be shutting down but kept for all to recieve , this is a great way to continue to share Harvey's Gifts. May we all Surpass what Harvey and TFL has taught and given to us s __________________ Use Enough Gun TFL Alumni

December 21, 2002, 10:00 AM	#4
sm Senior Member Join Date: February 5, 2002 Posts: 1,819	Thanks But the thanks go to you all Still think the best "natural resource" around, are the people been around a while. Like Sam said to me once: Age- comes if you live long enough Maturity - is earned and comes from learning and listening... too many have shared and worked to preserve freedoms, taught others. some just had more years on 'em than others...tis all __________________ Use Enough Gun TFL Alumni

December 20, 2002, 05:56 AM	#2
Dave McC Staff In Memoriam Join Date: October 13, 1999 Location: Columbia, Md, USA Posts: 8,811	Thanks! You made my morning a little better even...

December 20, 2002, 09:36 PM	#3
johnbt Senior Member Join Date: December 6, 1999 Location: Richmond, Virginia USA Posts: 6,004	Well I'm old enough and grumpy enough to not be at all embarrassed to say... Thank you for sharing that. Truly. John