"To John Taffin"

Guns Magazine, July, 2002

To: John Taffin, GUNS Magazine

From: Herb Richardson - old coot from the Texas Panhandle

GUNS magazine receives a substantial amount of mail. Some you read in our Crossfire column. Others, due to length or other factors, we are unable to publish. We recently received a letter from a wonderful gentleman we felt should be shared.

Shooters, hunters and firearms owners are frequently vilified by the general press. The image of the firearms community often portrayed is one of reckless, undisciplined Neanderthals who are a destructive force in society.

This is doubly infuriating. For most of us, our introduction to the shooting sports was accompanied by a careful indoctrination in the responsibility that comes with the use of a firearm. We may never be able to alter the distorted view of the shooting sports so many hold, but we can celebrate the truth that the vast majority of shooters and hunters are fine, upright people.

We hope you enjoy this nice remembrance of a young man's introduction to the shooting sports and to lifelong ideals of responsibility, self-reliance and independence.

I just finished your article in GUNS on "Handloading On A Budget." I think you did a commendable job of explaining how to get started. We all did things that were dangerous when we started out. I'm past 70 now, and you understand about eyes and shooting handguns. I can't do it well but I do it anyhow. I have fun shooting in competition with a small group at a local range each Monday night. We are all just shooters -- some good, some average, some really good who shoot 505 on a 510 course and some-times go clear to 510. We do like you. We shoot everything we own because they were what we liked and we bought them t shoot.

I'm a 1911 nut. My first handgun was a nickel-plated 1911 with mother-of-pearl grips. My mother won it at a raffle in 1939, and of course I was instantly in love, as you well understand. It became mine on 8-18-41, my 10th birthday. But I didn't get to shoot it much until after World War II when surplus ammo became available. Then I' got to shoot it plenty. It still resides in my hands and has been kind of tuned up. New sights and springs and firing pin and a little link-adjusting and slide tightening. Not a match grade gun, but I can get 8 shot 2-inch groups from the bench at 25 yards. However, even this is not what I'm writing about.

My dad was a make-do kind of guy. He wanted me to be able to shoot a lot of .45 pistol. Well, he came up with a .44 Special and a bullet mould. It was an old and well-worn Colt double action Non-adjustable sights. Well, he didn't know anything about reloading, so he talked to some fellows who did and then did some thinking. He took a piece of boiler plate, about 3 inches by 4 inches, 5/8 inch thick, and drilled a couple of holes in it. He reamed one side of it to size' the case, the other to squeeze a crimp. He made a powder measure from a cut-off case. I never knew the charge weight, but it was enough to generate some recoil with black powder. He taught me to knock out the primer with a punch, press the case in the sizing, hole and knock it out, then prime it with a piece of 2x4 with a dowel in it to press the case down on the boiler plate with a primer. Then scoop in the powder and put down a bullet on top of it and turn it up in the reamed hole and press down to crimp with the 2x4 across the base. He knew old timers used soap for lube in muzzle loaders, so he taught me to roll the bullets in a thick mixture of Ivory soap and water and let them dry. Dad said any fool could cast a bullet and gave me the mould. Well, I got lead from an oil field scrap heap by the gasoline plant.

I got to shoot that old .44 Special all through World War II and when I left home Dad sold it to someone else. I never had more than 50 cases and they got worked no telling how many times. They lasted almost forever.

Of course the old gun got cleaned good every time it was shot. A kid with a real gun was more diligent at cleaning than most folks, so it never got pitted but the bluing was sure rubbed away. We lived in a time when jack rabbits were vermin and the ranchers wanted all of them killed and I sure helped them out a bunch. I wish now we hadn't been so thorough at killing them. Because I love them chicken-fried then smothered in mushroom soup. They get tender enough to fall off the bone.

Those days are gone, but now I and my kids and grandkids still like to shoot. So I load and I do it by the book with, all due safety measures in place. We shoot a .357 Uberti Bisley with a 4.75 inch barrel. Feels like an old Colt and it's fun with 158 grain SWCs and 3.3 grains of Bullseye. Not unpleasant even for small kids who really love to shoot if you start them out right. We shoot a .45 Colt Vaquero 3.75 inch from. Ruger. Right now we are shooting factory stuff till we get a couple of hundred rounds of brass. The bird's-head grip is almost as easy on my arthritic hands as the Bisley. Anyhow. it's just a family thing.