By Have Dash
My teenage son’s entry into shooting sports began two years ago when my grandfather approached a cousin and asked him to pass down a vintage shotgun. This was noteworthy because my grandfather died in 1977.
Like many ghost stories, this one involves a dark and stormy night. I was driving home in the rain, thinking about a new 20-gauge I’d eyed a few days prior. It would be a great entry-level piece for my son who had been mentioning that his experience at Boy Scout camp got him interested in shooting.
Powered by WPeMatico
