During the last real conversation I had with my Dad, who is now literally on his deathbed, I thanked him for NOT introducing me to guns. We never hunted. He didn’t want to run around in the woods with a gun and neither did I. He never had a gun. I’m sick of hearing that fathers and sons and guns always belong together. I really don’t have anything against hunting but it sure is no reason to have an AR-15 and I know the difference between that and a 22 rifle.
Instead our favorite activity was going to baseball games. Under the leadership of August A. Busch Jr., our hometown St. Louis Cardinals in the 1960’s and early 70’s only charged 50 cents apiece for a father and son if your dad was a teacher, firefighter police officer or clergyman. I believe it applied to Mom’s too. They also had other huge discounts. Over the years we saw the likes of Bob Gibson, Lou Brock, Sandy Koufax, Hank Aaron, Roberto Clemente and Willie Mays. That was more memorable for us than kiling a deer or bird. Given our dorkishness we might have had an accident.
Thanks Dad!