2018-09-07 / Travel

Ode to my Father

Part 14: My First Gun
By Warner M. Montgomery, Ph.D.

Papa told me, “Shoot!” I killed my next seven shots. Papa told me, “Shoot!” I killed my next seven shots. (Note: This series is from my father’s memoirs I found long after his death.)

When my brother Bub ( John A.) was 11, Papa gave him a 410 shotgun. Papa loved to hunt quail. He especially liked to train dogs to hunt quail. He gave Bub the gun expecting him to be his fellow hunter; however, Bub and John Frank Register went hunting nearly every Saturday morning during hunting season and spoiled Papa’s dream.

Somewhere along the line, Papa told Bub he was using too many shells. Evidently, Bub cooled off his hunting and didn’t do any hunting until years later.

When it came my turn, Papa reversed the way he handled Bub and gave me the impression he didn’t want me to hunt. Therefore, I sneaked his gun and went hunting. I think Papa knew what I was doing. Finally, he asked me to go with him.

The last hunt I went on with Papa was during my Christmas holidays from Presbyterian College. We went out and hunted around the old home. He was giving me all the best shots, and I was missing them. Finally, he said “We need meat. Let me take the good shots.”

Of course, I agreed. But, all the birds started flying on my side, and Papa had to shoot over me. He told me, “Shoot!”

I killed my next seven shots.

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