Hummmm....... That's A Tough One ...........
I've got lots of great rifles--nothing fancy, just old work horses. The thing is: I always choose each one for a certain duty based on my memories of outings past, and also of the events that occured and scribed themselves into my shooting history. Based on that criteria, I'd have to say my favorite rifle is a little beat, battered, and bruised Springfield Model 15 single shot in .22 s,l, & lr. It surely isn't pretty as far as aesthetics go, is only marginally accurate at short ranges, is very rough mechanically speaking, and it will not fetch a premium collector's price if I were to offer it to trade. Heck, right now it doesn't even shoot! The firing pin spring has been broken for at least 25 years or more.
So why did I keep it? The important part of the story is actually how I got it in the first place. I'd love to tell you all of it sometime. Suffice it to say that my dear old grandad loved me and my two younger brothers enough to start each one of us out on this little gem and a jar full of .22 shorts. It always hung in the rafters of his work shop on two 16d nails. It was the most interesting tool in the entire shop. We would shoot 2 or 3 times a week at Ball canning lids until we were deemed accurate enough in Grandaddy's tired old contractor's eyes to go afield for squirrels and rabbits.
This was a full generation after my dad also learned his skills of the trade with the same rifle. My two young sons now shoot their own rimfires, but each started out as I did--carrying the little Springfield with the chamber empty to learn the basics of safety. Like two generations before them, they soon graduated to BB guns, then .22 shorts and long rifles. They had to kill a lot of paper before they got to take live ammo out in the woods.
Each Fall I take the little gun out and show it to them both, now learning the lessons of maintenance and proper storage. As I tell them the little Springfield's story and how many men before them were taught exactly as they were, I answer each of their questions carefully and deliberately. At the end of each session, I always end with a short prayer that my first rifle and my first Bible will always keep us safe. I'll tell you all right now--and swear to it to be true--that same gleam in my dear Grandaddy's eyes are now staring right back at me more than 45 years later.
Grandaddy paid around $10-12 for this old beater back in 1964. Today, it is simply priceless--and my very favorite for all time.
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