So what did you expect? As he was half American on his Mothers side.
Category: Well I thought it was neat!
I came across what is probably a little known piece of history that covers the beginnings of the car radio to the development of a highly successful aircraft. I got it through email, but I also found it on the interwebs. This link has most of the story, but not as in depth as the one I’m sharing below. Enjoy.
– Tuna
HISTORY OF THE CAR RADIO Seems like cars have always had radios,
but they didn’t.
but they didn’t.
Here’s the story:
One evening, in 1929, two young men named William Lear and Elmer Wavering drove their girlfriends to a lookout point high above the Mississippi River town of Quincy, Illinois, to watch the sunset.
It was a romantic night to be sure, but one of the women observed that it would be even nicer if they could listen to music in the car.
Lear and Wavering liked the idea. Both men had tinkered with radios (Lear served as a radio operator in the U.S. Navy during World War I) and it wasn’t long before they were taking apart a home radio and trying to get it to work in a car. But it wasn’t easy: automobiles have ignition switches, generators, spark plugs, and other electrical equipment that generate noisy static interference, making it nearly impossible to listen to the radio when the engine was running.
One by one, Lear and Wavering identified and eliminated each source of electrical interference. When they finally got their radio to work, they took it to a radio convention in Chicago. There they met Paul Galvin, owner of Galvin Manufacturing Corporation. He made a product called a “battery eliminator”, a device that allowed battery-powered radios to run on household AC current.
But as more homes were wired for electricity, more radio manufacturers made AC-powered radios. Galvin needed a new product to manufacture. When he met Lear and Wavering at the radio convention, he found it. He believed that mass-produced, affordable car radios had the potential to become a huge business.
Lear and Wavering set up shop in Galvin’s factory, and when they perfected their first radio, they installed it in his Studebaker.
Then Galvin went to a local banker to apply for a loan. Thinking it might sweeten the deal, he had his men install a radio in the banker’s Packard. Good idea, but it didn’t work. Half an hour after the installation, the banker’s Packard caught on fire. (They didn’t get the loan.)
Galvin didn’t give up. He drove his Studebaker nearly 800 miles to Atlantic City to show off the radio at the 1930 Radio Manufacturers Association convention.
Too broke to afford a booth, he parked the car outside the convention hall and cranked up the radio so that passing conventioneers could hear it. That idea worked — He got enough orders to put the radio into production.
WHAT’S IN A NAME
That first production model was called the 5T71. Galvin decided he needed to come up with something a little catchier. In those days many companies in the phonograph and radio businesses used the suffix “ola” for their names – Radiola, Columbiola, and Victrola were three of the biggest. Galvin decided to do the same thing, and since his radio was intended for use in a motor vehicle, he decided to call it the Motorola.
But even with the name change, the radio still had problems: When Motorola went on sale in 1930, it cost about $110 uninstalled, at a time when you could buy a brand-new car for $650, and the country was sliding into the Great Depression. (By that measure, a radio for a new car would cost about $3,000 today.)
In 1930, it took two men several days to put in a car radio — The dashboard had to be taken apart so that the receiver and a single speaker could be installed, and the ceiling had to be cut open to install the antenna.
These early radios ran on their own batteries, not on the car battery, so holes had to be cut into the floorboard to accommodate them. The installation manual had eight complete diagrams and 28 pages of instructions. Selling complicated car radios that cost 20 percent of the price of a brand-new car wouldn’t have been easy in the best of times, let alone during the Great Depression.
’33 Ford Tudor Sedan Source
Galvin lost money in 1930 and struggled for a couple of years after that. But things picked up in 1933 when Ford began offering Motorola’s pre-installed at the factory.
In 1934 they got another boost when Galvin struck a deal with B.F. Goodrich tire company to sell and install them in its chain of tire stores.
By then the price of the radio, with installation included, had dropped to $55. The Motorola car radio was off and running. (The name of the company would be officially changed from Galvin Manufacturing to “Motorola” in 1947.)
In the meantime, Galvin continued to develop new uses for car radios. In 1936, the same year that it introduced push-button tuning, it also introduced the Motorola Police Cruiser, a standard car radio that was factory preset to a single frequency to pick up police broadcasts.
Police Cruiser Radio – Source
In 1940 he developed the first handheld two-way radio
— The Handy-Talkie for the U. S. Army.
A lot of the communications technologies that we take for granted today were born in Motorola labs in the years that followed World War II. In 1947 they came out with the first television for under $200. In 1956 the company introduced the world’s first pager; in 1969 came the radio and television equipment that was used to televise Neil Armstrong’s first steps on the Moon.
In 1973 it invented the world’s first handheld cellular phone. Today Motorola is one of the largest cell phone manufacturers in the world. And it all started with the car radio.
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO the two men who installed the first radio in Paul Galvin’s car?
Elmer Wavering and William Lear, ended up taking very different paths in life. Wavering stayed with Motorola. In the 1950’s he helped change the automobile experience again when he developed the first automotive alternator, replacing inefficient and unreliable generators. The invention lead to such luxuries as power windows, power seats, and, eventually, air-conditioning.
Lear also continued inventing. He holds more than 150 patents. Remember eight-track tape players? Lear invented that.
But what he’s really famous for are his contributions to the field of aviation. He invented radio direction finders for planes, aided in the invention of the autopilot, designed the first fully automatic aircraft landing system, and in 1963 introduced his most famous invention of all, the Lear Jet, the world’s first mass-produced, affordable business jet. (Not bad for a guy who dropped out of school after the eighth grade.)
Sometimes it is fun to find out how some of the
many things that we take for granted actually came into being!
AND
It all started with a woman’s suggestion!!
This interested me for the Paul Harvey sort of vibe- “Now you know the rest of the story!” as well as the fact that the first smart phone I owned was a Motorola (below). I liked the fact that it was an American Company, it wasn’t an Apple, and I was sold on them when I dropped one of my later phones off the second deck landing at work and the screen was still intact. Now it’s owned by Lenovo, so probably Chinese, but the phones are still good.
The mainstream media is like a dog chasing a squirrel. Talking heads pontificate about the crisis du jour, while public figures rend their clothes while wearing sackcloth and ashes before the klieg lights and cameras. There is something fresh, new, and horrible every single day. It is predictable. That’s a great way to earn clicks but a really bad way to shape government policy.
According to them, our country’s greatest existential crisis is assault weapons. Now we all know that it’s not even possible to define a “semiautomatic assault weapon,” much less control its proliferation and nefarious use via legislative fiat. However, reality has never stopped the Left from throwing ineffective laws at a problem. As it relates to the Second Amendment in general and an assault weapons ban in particular, it behooves us to appreciate a few inconvenient facts.
Everytown for Gun Safety is a rabidly anti-gun political activist organization. Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt and assume their numbers are accurate. Everytown defines a mass shooting as a rampage event wherein four or more people are killed with firearms excluding the shooter. They counted an average of nineteen mass shooter events per annum between 2009 and 2020, with a total of 1,363 fatalities. Of these tragedies spread over 12 years, firearms that could be defined as “assault weapons” were used in 30 shootings, resulting in 347 deaths.
Gun banners would have you believe that this is responsible for the
deaths of thousands of innocent Americans. That’s just not true.
Ours is a nation of 328 million people. In 2019, 364 Americans were killed with rifles of all sorts. That’s 364 unimaginable tragedies. I do not for a moment trivialize that. However, there is the issue of scale.
In that same year, we lost 480,000 Americans to cigarettes. Of those 480,000, some 41,000 were innocent non-smokers killed by secondhand smoke, mostly children with breathing disorders. That same year, 1,476 Americans were killed with knives, 600 were beaten to death with fists, and 397 died from attackers wielding clubs and hammers (statista.com). More people were murdered with knives in that single year than were killed in mass shootings between 2009 and 2020. People are just bad.
The images are undeniably heartrending. No normal person can gaze upon the pictures of terrified survivors streaming out of a school or shopping center without being viscerally moved. However, isolated images are no basis for sound policy.
As horrible as these diabolical events are in the grand scheme, the cold absolute numbers are still fairly small. By contrast, there is a flip side to the Second Amendment question that is typically completely overlooked in the national discourse. Just how many lives are saved by America’s unique infatuation with these implements of violence?
Lots more folks are hurt by thugs wielding unimposing handguns than black rifles.
Gunfacts.info estimates that guns are used to prevent crimes some 2.5 million times per year in America. That’s an average of 6,849 incidents every day. The same researchers assert that guns are used to avert a life-threatening crime 400,000 times per year. These numbers are amply footnoted, but statistics are readily manipulatable. I take all those things with a grain of salt. Today, I’d like to think a little bigger.
Our great republic has served as a beacon of freedom and democracy to an oft-enslaved world for some 245 years now. Ours is the most resilient, long-lived, and productive democracy in human history. We are also a gleaming exception. Time after time after time, governments have their day in the sun but then devolve into blood-soaked despotism. That cycle is a lamentable part of the human condition.
Cambodia suffered unimaginably under Pol Pot (2 million dead). Germany had Hitler and the Nazis (21 million dead). China had Mao (45 million dead). And then there’s Putin (pushing half a million dead total).
The real body counts don’t come from mass shooters. The serious body counts come from governments. And the only thing standing between the United States government and something similarly ghastly, as has been the case with democracies throughout human history, is a well-armed populace.
If you really want to make a dent in violence then figure out a way to
control the proliferation of these things. Knives are used to kill way more
people in America than scary black rifles.
An armed population is absolutely ungovernable without their consent. Those great wise old guys who drafted the U.S. Constitution knew that to be the case. That’s why the right to own a weapon was enshrined right behind the right to gripe about the government and attend the church of your choice.
I have a dear friend who is alive today because he had a gun on a remote deserted road late at night. The cops were never notified, and the incident never made it into any statistical database. However, I’m sure glad he traveled with a weapon. It’s a scary world.
The American phenomenon is unique in human history. The unhinged rantings of revisionist activists notwithstanding, we have been the greatest force for liberty in the history of the planet. And that could all be gone in a generation. We are not fundamentally different from the Germans, the Cambodians, the Russians, and the Chinese. We simply can’t let short-sighted witless agendas undo two centuries of profound, timeless wisdom.
Categories
Wow!
Winchester Model 88: Where It Began
In the early 1940s Winchester figured that, given America’s love affair with the lever-action, and the growing popularity of more accurate bolt-action models, the time had come to modernize its venerable 19th century models. At the time, the John Browning-designed Model 1895 stood as the only Winchester chambering a high-velocity, flat-shooting cartridge.
This strong, box-magazine fed rifle fired the wonderful, pointed .30-06 Springfield round. Badly outdated by the early ’40s, Winchester discontinued the model in 1931. The legendary Winchester lever-actions remained widely known for their speed of firing. But they unfortunately lacked the strength and accuracy of modern bolt-action rifles. What Winchester needed was a modern lever-action combining the best attributes of both. If only it were so simple.
Winchester’s design team reasoned that the strength of a bolt-action mechanism in a lever-action rifle would require a rotating front-locking bolt to withstand the higher pressures of newer cartridges, and this design would also call for a solid breech similar to that used on the Savage Model 99, which would eliminate the possibility of gas blowback into the shooters eyes should a cartridge case fail. Additionally, intended as a sporting gun, Winchester considered adding a scope mounting option.
This dictated a receiver with side ejection, with the ejection port sealed off with the action shut to keep dirt and foreign objects from entering the mechanism. Further compounding the issue, the rifle’s traditional lever-action tubular magazine forbid the use of newer cartridges with pointed bullets. This necessitated the design of a cartridge box or clip-type magazine (the Model 1895 became the first Winchester lever-action to feature a box magazine).
Further Refinements
To achieve a higher level of accuracy, Winchester discarded its traditional two-piece stock in favor of a more rigid, one-piece design. Factory engineers also wanted this new repeater to operate much faster, so they developed a short throw lever. Lastly, they decided to top things off by combining the lever and trigger assembly. These two changes enabled the action to cycle much faster, with the shooter’s finger never coming off the trigger.
All that remained was to design a rifle that could do all of those things! It’s a tall order, even by today’s standards, and all of this was happening in the 1940s. The Model 88, lacking a working mechanism, remained just a concept until the early ’50s, when a young man named W. D. Butler, Winchester’s assistant manager of Arms and Ammunition R&D, was assigned the job as designer. The development program was given top priority, receiving attention 16 hours per day, seven days a week.
The Details
Butler and his team achieved their goal. The Model 88’s entire trigger assembly cycled with the lever as one unit. A reversible cross-bolt safety was located in the front of the triggerguard. The action was equipped with several safety features to avoid premature or accidental discharge with the mechanism open. The bolt had a separate rotating head with three lugs that locked into the front of the receiver. The closed breech of the receiver, which gently curved to flow with the stock, guarded against escaping gasses in the event of a case failure or ruptured primer. The receiver featured side ejection, and the solid top was drilled and tapped for scope mounts. The left rear side of the receiver was even drilled and tapped for a Lyman 66W-88 peep sight.
For loading, Winchester devised an easily detachable clip-style magazine that held four cartridges. A fifth round loaded into the chamber. The clip release mechanism resided at the front of the magazine well. It activated with even a gloved hand. The smooth, tapered Winchester proof steel barrel measured 22 inches in length. It came fitted with a Winchester No. 103C beaded, ramped front sight with a removable hood and a Lyman No. 16A adjustable folding-leaf rear sight. The rifle measured 42 inches overall and weighed an incredibly light 6.5 pounds.
A New Military Cartridge
Another novelty was the rifle’s caliber: The Model 88 was chambered in company’s latest cartridge, the .308 Winchester. This was the Winchester-Olin commercial version of the brand-new 7.62mm NATO military cartridge, better known in the 1950s as the T65 Army.
The .308 Win was an ideal caliber for deer and other large game. Its ballistics were almost equal to those of the .30-06 Springfield, but its case length was a full half-inch shorter, making it perfect for a short-throw, lever-action rifle.
Among the early reviewers of the Model 88 was the legendary author and firearms specialist Elmer Keith, who called the rifle “just right for snap or running shooting.”
“The rifle handles as fast as a shotgun,” Keith wrote. “We take our hats off to the Winchester engineers for giving us a super-accurate front-locking lever-action.”
Design Changes
The Model 88 came offered in only .308 its first year. In 1956, Winchester added two additional cartridges, both commercial versions of wildcat rounds. First, the .243 Winchester brought a necked down .308, designed to compete with the popular .257 Roberts and .250 Savage. Then the .358 Winchester comprised a necked-up .308, placing the Model 88 in the .35-caliber brush-buster class. Winchester made approximately 80,000 Model 88s between 1955 and 1956.
By the 1957-58 production run, Winchester made most of the engineering changes and improvements found on the later-issue Model 88. The most noticeable was the redesigned recoil lug at the rear of the receiver. The original “three-bumped” shape changed to a rounded contour, eliminating a tendency for cracking around the narrow finger of the original lug. Though not as aesthetically pleasing, it solved one of the Model 88’s few significant problems.
Winchester dropped the .358 Winchester from the lineup in 1962. Recurrent chambering problems reportedly the reason, but lackluster sales might have contributed. In 1963, Winchester introduced a completely new cartridge specifically designed for the Model 88—the .284 Winchester.
The company wanted a more powerful round, packed into a short action, with ballistics comparable to the .270 Winchester. The .284 incorporated a rebated rim. Possessing the same .473-inch rim diameter as the .308 Winchester and .30-06 Springfield, the .284’s case diameter at the base, expanded to .5 inch, increased powder capacity. It became the most powerful cartridge available in the Model 88. The .284 Winchester proved to be an extremely accurate and flat-shooting round—in essence, the first non-belted, short magnum cartridge.
Accommodating the .284
The longer, fatter case of the .284 prompted several design changes in the Model 88. First, Winchester lengthened the receiver’s ejection port approximately .25-inch at the front. This exposed a small portion of the rotating bolt head not visible on earlier versions. Also, by the early ’60s, the clip magazine changed, redesigned with caliber numbers now stamped on the front end. The earlier flat-bottom version with a de-bossed arrow gone, dismissed in favor of a fancier, stepped design with embossed arrow. The capacity of the .284 clip was three, making with one in the chamber a total capacity of four—one round less than that of the .243 and .308. Of the various Model 88s produced, the “pre-’64” cut-checkering version .284 is today the most rare, with only 2,925 made in 1963.
Not specifically limited to the Model 88, the pre-’64 designation popularized by gun collectors is used in reference to other Winchester models built prior to 1964. Most notably, the look of the Model 88 changed after 1963. The traditional cut checkering disappeared in favor of a new style called impress checkering, done to speed up manufacturing and cut production costs. It appeared on all Winchester rifles, and all but the most expensive shotguns, with patterns varying from somewhat plain to very elaborate.
The design on the Model 88 is known as the “basket weave with oak leaf” motif, which appears on the pistol grip and forearm as well as on the underside of the forearm. It was and still is very pleasing to the eye and provides a very comfortable grip. This design of checkering remained unchanged to the end of Model 88 production. The nylon diamond checkered butt plates remained the same throughout the model’s entire production run, although some have been seen with the Winchester name embossed in the middle. The steel grip cap was changed slightly in 1964. It was still done in the same raised style, but was altered to incorporate an insert with the red Winchester “W”logo.
The Model 88 Carbine
As with many successful Winchester lever guns, it was inevitable that the 88 would eventually appear in the more compact carbine configuration. In 1968, some 13 years after the Model 88’s introduction, a carbine version finally arrived on the scene. Not simply shorter, the 19-inch barreled version carbine came with a uniquely designed, plain, un-checkered walnut stock. Exhibiting a smoother, heftier feel than the rifle, the carbine further differentiated by way of a wide semi-beavertail forend. The 88 carbines used the same sights as the lever-action. However, they came with a barrel band–straight from Winchester lever-action lore–with an attached front sling swivel.
The quick-handling Model 88 carbine next came in the three remaining calibers: .243, .308 and .284 Winchester. However, in 1970, after only three years of production and 7,000 88s made, Winchester dropped the .284 chambering. Two years later Winchester discontinued the 88 carbine altogether after five years in production. Winchester produced more than 28,000 in total from 1968 to 1972. Of all the Model 88 Winchesters, the .284 carbine comprises the second-most rare variation produced.
The End Of The Road
In the waning months of 1972, Winchester eliminated yet another caliber had from the Model 88 line, the .284. Production continued in the remaining .243 and .308 Winchester calibers for only one more year. At the end of 1973, after 19 years in production, Winchester discontinued the Model 88.
Throughout the entire production run, from 1955 to 1973, Winchester manufactured approximately 284,000 Model 88s. Many traditionalists don’t care for the look of the Model 88, but fans love it for its unique form and incredible out-of-the-box accuracy. All said and done, the special combination of high-quality craftsmanship and limited quantity help make a firearm unique and collectable. The Model 88 certainly qualifies.
THE RAREST MODEL 88
In 1963, the last year for the handcrafted Pre-64 Model 88 rifles, the .284 Winchester, a new cartridge specifically designed for the Model 88 debuted. A more powerful round with ballistics comparable to the .270 Winchester but packed into a short action, the .284 incorporated a rebated-rim. It featured the same rim diameter as the .308 Winchester and the .30-06 Springfield, measuring .473 inch. The case body diameter at the based expanded to a full half-inch, thus increasing power capacity.
This became the most powerful cartridge available for the Model 88. The .284 Winchester proved to be an extremely accurate and flat shooting round, in essence, the first non-belted, short magnum cartridge. The capacity of the .284 clip was three, with one in the chamber, one less than that of the .243 and .308. For collectors on the lookout for the best Model 88, especially for rarity, the Pre ’64 cut-checkering version .284 remains the rarest. Winchester produced just 2,925 in 1963.
Staring this guy down all night long would likely put anybody’s problems
into perspective. (Source: Mika Brandt, Unsplash)
It is simply breathtaking to look back on two decades of medical practice and appreciate some of the things that drive patients to seek a physician’s attention. I have had folks with snakebites, active strokes, gunshot wounds and evolving heart attacks aplenty inexplicably report to my humble urgent care clinic for treatment. Most, but not all, of those individuals get a quick ride to the local ER.
I have also had patients become genuinely put out with me should I respectfully refuse to excise their quarter-sized facial lesions or not expeditiously remove their gallbladders in the procedure room because they, “really hate going to the hospital.” I once had an elderly lady tell me that she would sooner die in my waiting room than go back to a hospital. However, on the other end of the spectrum, sometimes a visit to the local sawbones is somewhat more social than medical.
If they are of the proper age and comportment to manage them responsibly, I frequently make inflatable animals for my pediatric patients out of rubber gloves. I derive markedly more enjoyment out of this exercise than do they. On two occasions I have had kids fake illnesses just to get a fresh rubber animal.
While such antics will invariably precipitate the screaming habdabs in mom, these represent some of my proudest moments as a physician. Sometimes, however, grownups will come to the clinic for things that are, shall we say, not terribly critical.
“I can’t describe it,” “I just don’t feel good,” “My (insert random family member) is crazy,” and “My teeth itch” are perennial favorites. In each case, I do my utmost to discern some underlying treatable pathology and proceed accordingly, but sometimes the problem has a more esoteric origin.
We Information Age Americans have become awfully domesticated these days. We are now quite far removed from our rugged hunter-gatherer forebears. Sometimes what we need is not some expensive medication or rarefied medical therapy so much as a hefty dose of perspective. I think after so many years as a small-town doctor I have finally divined the answer.
Behold the implements of America’s game. Under slightly different circumstances,
they could also be viewed as medical instruments. (Source: NeonBrand, Unsplash)
Go North, Young Man
When some verklempt unfortunate reports to the clinic with itchy teeth, sometimes I just want to retrieve my prescription pad and scrawl out, “Lion Therapy — #1, Refill PRN” before scribbling my John Hancock across the bottom. I would then instruct the patient to take the prescription and drive 78 miles north to the Memphis Zoo, planning to arrive at the front gate around closing time. Don’t bring spare clothes or a bag. This novel but effective therapy demands neither.
You present the little medical writ to the gate attendant at which point they usher you back to the big cat enclosures. Once at the lion paddock you are shown into a nicely appointed climate-controlled dressing room painted in soothing pastel colors. In the privacy of your dressing room, you then strip naked and place your clothes and belongings in a secure locker provided for your convenience.
While all this preparation is taking place, the keepers are nearby vigorously feeding the lions. The lions are gorged, having consumed all the Purina Lion Chow they can manage. Once you are divested of all vestiges of civilization to include your cell phone, eyeglasses, beauty products, cross trainers and underpants, the zookeeper issues you with one standard baseball bat. They then plop you into the lion paddock and go home for the night.
Itchy Teeth Be Gone
When the keepers return the following morning, chances are you will not have been eaten. The lions were well-fed, after all. However, armed with nothing but a baseball bat after spending an evening standing naked while being curiously ogled by half a dozen African lions you now have your previous problems in perspective. You have been successfully treated with your first round of lion therapy.
The aforementioned wistful rambling should not be misinterpreted to minimize the import of mental illness or one of several zillion serious medical maladies that can manifest in ways that are both ethereal and mild. But compared to the rugged individualists who settled this great nation, our current generation seems to me to be not quite so durable. While my malpractice carrier would undoubtedly take umbrage with this radical course of treatment, I think it might be just the ticket in certain narrow circumstances.
How many folks do you know might benefit from a round or two of lion therapy? I’ve got my pad ready.
In 1944, British breweries offered to donate beer to British troops currently invading Normandy. In order to deliver the beer, the RAF modified spitfires to carry beer kegs instead of bombs. The airflow over the kegs even provided natural refrigeration.
This 1917 will never be changed.
I’ve got guns with warts on them. Nicks, a bit of rust, plating flaking off, signs of bad gunsmithing in the past or just plain honest wear — warts-all. And the funny thing is I won’t change a thing on any of them, ever. Let me explain.
My brother, Ren, died unexpectedly a few years ago. We grew up around guns and hunted and shot together. He was five years younger than me, but we were always close. I was the real gun-guy and I think Ren, while owning a modest collection of often eclectic bent, mostly enjoyed them because he knew how much I did.
He’d often call me excitedly about some weird or unusual find he had located, “It’s this strange thing, I think .32 caliber, but it might be 9mm, but the old lady said her husband died and he got it in the war, and she wanted to get rid of it so I bought it for $150. It’s got some kind of funny writing on it, maybe Russian? You think I did good?” And he usually didn’t do good. But he never lost his enthusiasm and I think he hoped one day I’d say, “My god Ren, do you realize what you’ve found!?” One day he came close.
After the excited call, he came over and plopped a bag on the table. “Found this and I’ll bet you’ll like it,” he said smiling. In the brown paper bag was a “bag-o-gun” as I call them. A 1917 S&W completely apart, down to every screw and pin. “Well, cool, huh?” he said. And at the time a 1917 was hard to get and it was cool, and I told him so. It was pretty rusty, but seemed all there. “Can you put it together,” he asked excitedly?
“Better yet,” I said, “I’ll help you to put it together.” An hour or two later we had a functioning 1917 and he was proud as anything knowing I liked the gun. “You know, it’s for you,” he said, holding it out. I smiled and closed my hand on his while he held it, “No, it’s for you, because I helped you put it together. One day I’ll show you how to refinish it and we’ll make it like new. Then it’ll be our gun.” He smiled at me and I knew he liked the idea. But we never got around to it as such things all too often go, and after he died I found the 1917 among some other guns he had. The gun lives in my safe now and I think you understand why it won’t ever be restored. It still has his hands on it.
I have others. The old Colt Single Action .44-40 is a genuine “stashed under the cabin floor” gun, found in an old cabin in Arizona. Grips don’t get that worn by sitting in a drawer somewhere and I only wish it could talk. I’ll bet you do too.
Genuine “Cabin” find Colt.
Suzi’s family 1911.
If you look closely at the old blued 1911 you’ll see where someone had taken a belt sander to the top-strap sometime in its past life. The reason the gun is special is because it belonged to Suzi’s grandfather who carried it on Navy ships during WWII, then was passed on to her step-father, who carried it in Vietnam on gunboats. At one time in its life, some armorer probably ground off some rust and got the gun going again. It stays the way it is.
The other 1911 was carried by an old gentleman during WWII in the South Pacific, and saw serious action in the island-hopping campaign. “Roy, it saved my life on more than one occasion and I have to tell you, that old .45 hardball round would punch right through a Japanese helmet. I know because I did it.” I got the original holster and two 20-round boxes of military ammo dated 1944 with it when he died. I’ll never change it.
A fighting gun from WWII.
The old nickel S&W .38 break-top is a family gun of ours. My dad bought it for $10 when I was about eight, and it was a thing of mystery and beauty the entire time I was growing up. I could “look at the gun” anytime I wanted to, I just had to ask. No end of bank-robbers and bad guys met their fate in my imagination, while I held that gun carefully on my lap.
I think it fostered my desire to be a cop later on. I can still feel the snappy recoil of those .38 S&W rounds in my eight-year old hands and I can’t pick the gun up today without doing some time traveling. It has my own eight-year old hands on it still, and it’s a eerie feeling to have my now 55-year old hands meet them. I almost feel like I’m shaking hands with that gun-crazy little boy all those years ago. I only wish I could have whispered back over the decades to him in a dream to assure him his passion would turn into a lifetime of enjoyment, opportunity and adventure.
The gun that made Roy become a cop.
Too many people have talked to these old guns, too many friends who are now gone have shot them with me, or simply enjoyed looking at them with me over a glass of good wine to change the patina now. It would be like taking the bark off an old oak tree — and that’s equally unthinkable for me now that I live with those fine, old, wise trees on our land.
Funny how it just depends on how you look at things. Sometimes, warts can be a good thing.