Gained another son, maybe.

Freekboi, I grew up in southern Ohio, mostly in Brown County. My grandmother lived in Ft. Mitchell, KY. They had built the house when it was mostly open field there, but by the time I was visiting, it had become suburbs. My Mom was born in Morgan County, KY, and on her mothers side they were from McGoffin, County, KY. I myself lived in Kenton and Boone Counties near Cincy, OH as an adult before I joined the Army and went bopping around.

SunnyD, I'd say great minds, etc., but when you're a kid you just kind of roll with what ya can get your hands on. I still wish Daisy made a Peacemaker BB sixgun like my Uncle had. And that old .22/.410, wish I had that one still, it went down the road for a transmission a lot of years ago. My old man (the better one who came along when I was 16, whose name I took and call Dad) is still hoping to find one at a good price these days.

Wish we could sit down and swap tales. There is something that appeals to me about guns that were made for and came from an era when guns were tools that were used as a part of life. Back then 16 gauge made a lot of sense for 90% of hunting. The guns were built for the gauge and you could carry a potent shotgun over hill and dale, quite literally, for the better part of a day and you would really be able to tell the difference in your arms and step by the end of the day between carrying it and carrying a 12 gauge.

I think that is a factor in kids growing up today versus us ole farts. When we were growing up things were more open and rural. Many of us were fortunate to be around folks who made their way from earth and water, from farmers and ranchers, to rivermen and coastal fishermen. Knives and guns were first tools and part of how they lived. Enjoyment of them came second, but enjoy good tools they did. We had the advantage of association with the people and a time where we could at least be exposed to these things. Westerns and African adventure films were well represented, and the books we read were stories about outdoor adventure. Today it is a different environment, even in the rural areas. It's weird seeing a young guy in jeans and a ball cap, and a pickup in a small town with hip-hop or rap booming from his stereo. Ack, there I go rambling again.

I may have to go ahead and take that 20 something kid at work to the range one day soon.
 
Amos, you'e so right about the gun being built for the gauge. When I was a kid the "sweet 16" was king of the all around field guns. Down on the shore most of grandads hunting cronies and co-conspiritors used the 16 for everything from duck to quail.

The modern kid is surrounded by sprawling suburbia, unlike what we grew up with. I guess the mall has replaced the woods as a place to hang out in, with dire consiquences on our youth. But I do believe that this is not the choice of kids. Look at any nieborhood where there is some woods and especially a creek, and the kids will make thier way there. I really believe that there is a draw in nature, that most kids given a choice will be swayed by. They can't help it, they will go explore the woods, if they are near any. Look at the kids in the mall, thier bored as hell. Take those same kids out to even a block square woods and watch thier eyes light up as they explore some creek bed or thick wooded hill top. Toss an air gun into the mix and they will stay there for hours plinking at targets of oportunity like empty cans, pine cones, whatever. I think it affects them on an activistic or even genetic level.

You're right about the other input a kid gets. Growing up reading Zane Grey and Edgar Rice Borroughs is alot different than sitting in front of the boob tube watching rap videos. And our role models were men in our lives who were ranchers, farmers, or in my case, watermen. These were men who delt with the problems of life in a thoughtfull and pragmatic mannor. You don't get careless around a combine or out on the water too often and get away with it. You learned to be responcible for your actions.

Go ahead and take that 20 something kid to the range very soon. He probably dose'nt have anyone else that he can learn as much fom as an old fart who has already made the same mistakes he will if left unguided.
 
Amos, your mom was born just a couple counties over from where I live. Listening to you and Jackknife makes me glad I grew up here in Eastern KY where progress hasn't hit as hard yet. Even though I'm a young guy and have grown up with today's technology, I also grew up playing in the woods and creek behind my house, plinking pop cans first with my Daisy Red Ryder BB gun then with my .22 I inherited from my dad who got it from his dad, going fishing on the river and squirrel hunting up in the hills and just generally enjoying nature. Heck, one of my uncles gave me a .410 shotgun as a first birthday present! Once I got old enough I used that gun for years before it finally died on me. The bad part is development is even starting to hit here really hard, and I'm watching as the areas I grew up playing in are becoming shopping centers and trailer parks and I worry that when I have kids, they're not gonna have the wilderness areas to run in and learn to appreciate and respect nature. Sorry for the ramble, feeling a little older than my time. Is it possible to become an old fart at only 25?
 
All this rural nostalgia is great, but you guys miss the boat when it comes to your perception of urban youth and life in the city. I live in the heart of a city (500K city-1Mil metro) and we've got nature, hunting and fishing. I live within walking distance of a business district, shopping district, three hospitals, a mall, theatre district, jail etc. But we also have a river and two stocked ponds within walking distance. I've killed a rat in my apartment and squirrel in my roof with my knife. My neighbor boy routinely rids the area of pesky birds to keep the feeders free for the rarer species. He uses a BB gun with scope and occasionally a blow gun (at gun shows you can buy under the table some chemical which helps knock out the squirrel if winged and they fall unconscious out of the tree.)

I routinely find possum road kill in front of my house and our feral cats and wild dogs do a good job with the rats. Down at the park by the river, in sight of the towering office buildings we've got beaver and fox in the local abandoned waste dump.

My neighbor has kestrals nesting in his roof. We have a pair of local red-tailed hawks and two blocks from my home a perigrine falcon ripped a sparrow out of the air in front of my car.

So, you don't need to be rural to hunt fish and enjoy nature :)
 
That is so touching. I swear you got that out of a book! I think you're absolutely right, growing up a boy needs these kinds of lessons and experiences. It's just part of being a man.

I'm 18, and while not quite as abandoned as Josh, my story is somewhat similiar. My father is a technology buff, and is very into computers. I never got a knife or a BB gun growing up, instead he taught me about electronics and computers for a while. While it's a fun and useful hobby...it's not knives or guns. I eventually lost interest, and now we really have nothing in common.

Just last year I got into air rifles. But where I live, it's illegal to shoot them in your backyard. My dad has no interest in going anywhere with me, and after shooting all alone when I knew my neighbors weren't home (they actually care) I just gave up. It's no fun shooting alone everyday. My dad has a Russian R9 pistol, but he won't even show it to me...after 18 years of being his son. He believes guns are dangerous, and learning about them only encourages you to abuse them.
Pretty much the same thing with knives and swords. I actually know more than he does when it comes to these. When I get a new one I always show it to him and tell him about it. But when he learned my switchblade and katanas were illegal, he got upset and doesn't want to encourage me anymore. That is kind of a hard situation, sure the yare illegal to even own...but I'm just a collector, come on. I went to a backyard cutting seminar with a local instructor and he actually got mad at me. He couldn't believe other grown men would encourage others to use illegal weapons. I guess some people just don't get it.

A guy I work with seems very much like you jackknife. He is an older guy, and he loves guns. We talk all the time about his gun collection, and I like to show him my new knives. He only has 2 daughters, so I'm sure talking to a young guy like me is new. And talking to him, for me, is like starting over with my dad in a way. My dad was always there, he was just never interested in that old-school "father son bond" kind of relationship. I still love him, just wish we were closer.
 
Freekboi, nope, I think I was working on being a reprobate when I was a young fellow. I've also been technically savvy and used to be strong into computers (kind of like exploring a new frontier), but they've become tools to me and not the destination.

One of the old boys on the Bullshooter's Bench once asked me why I hung around with them, me being a young guy. I was in my mid-thirties and they were all retired or semi-retired. (I know, I've told this tale before.) I looked at him and said, "Walt. My goal in life is to be an old fart and I figure this is the best place to learn!" ;)

I've thought it might be nice to move to Eastern Ky or thereabouts. I swore once I got west of the Mississippi that I wouldn't go back. Too crowded. Unfortunately, everywhere is getting overrun. I'm currently just west of San Antonio and things are still exploding around here. I'm getting claustrophobic. I also miss hardwoods and squirrel hunting.

Brownshoe, I do recognize that there's wildlife in the city. Heck, if a fellow was sneaky he could eat well on city critters. Not legally, but easy enough. It still isn't the same.

I can still go back in my mind to sitting in a winter woods where it was so quiet you could hear the snow whispering down through the trees. No cars, no other people sounds, just you and the woods. Such solitude is precious.

Walking home across fall browned fields after an afternoon of hunting, with an old barn and some old, abandoned, farm equipment sitting in the distance, like something you only see in nostalgia paintings these days. Dusk is gathering and there are dustings of snow here and there. You take a step mid-field and suddenly your heart jumps into your throat as you jump a bit yourself, startled by a quail ripping into the air right at your feet. You and your companions, family and neighbor, all had your guns over your shoulders having called it a day. Once again, no car sounds, no town sounds, just the bit of conversation here and there, and the sound of the wind rustling the stiff grass and moving through the bare trees. I don't remember how many quail or bunnies we got that day and it really doesn't matter. But, I do remember that moment and can still see the woods and fields fading in the dusk. I can smell the wind, hear it. I can feel the weight of the gun on my shoulder and the cold of the day. That I can remember. That is worth remembering.

Sniping a pigeon or a rat in the city just doesn't fit in the same category for me. No doubt it will be a real memory to someone in their later years, and I hope it is a good memory. To me, it just isn't the same.

I don't miss some of the grief of those years, but I do miss that old farm. I imagine it has become a housing area by now.

;) There we go, wondering down back trails again.
 
Amos Iron Wolf said:
Walking home across fall browned fields after an afternoon of hunting, with an old barn and some old, abandoned, farm equipment sitting in the distance, like something you only see in nostalgia paintings these days. Dusk is gathering and there are dustings of snow here and there. You take a step mid-field and suddenly your heart jumps into your throat as you jump a bit yourself, startled by a quail ripping into the air right at your feet. You and your companions, family and neighbor, all had your guns over your shoulders having called it a day. Once again, no car sounds, no town sounds, just the bit of conversation here and there, and the sound of the wind rustling the stiff grass and moving through the bare trees. I don't remember how many quail or bunnies we got that day and it really doesn't matter. But, I do remember that moment and can still see the woods and fields fading in the dusk. I can smell the wind, hear it. I can feel the weight of the gun on my shoulder and the cold of the day. That I can remember. That is worth remembering.
;) There we go, wondering down back trails again.
Click to expand...

But their're good trails, Amos!

Its a funny thing, no matter how often I would go with grandad on a quail hunt, I'd never get used to how the whole covey could explode into the air at once!
 
Amos Iron Wolf said:
One of the old boys on the Bullshooter's Bench once asked me why I hung around with them, me being a young guy. I was in my mid-thirties and they were all retired or semi-retired. (I know, I've told this tale before.) I looked at him and said, "Walt. My goal in life is to be an old fart and I figure this is the best place to learn!" ;)
Click to expand...

Amos, That's kind of why I frequent this forum!;) There's still a few good places to live here in the Eastern part of the state, if you can find them. And the squirrel hunting is still top notch. If you ever did decide to move here, make sure you drop me an e-mail and I'll dig out the .22 and we'll go bag a limit of bushytails!
 
Jackknife,the stuff you write about sure brings back memories.When i was growing up in the 70's,early 80's my dad and uncles and grandpa were huge influences in my life,i just didnt know it at the time.I was taught to handle a knife from the time i was probly 5,6 yo.My grandpa used to let me use his Imperial barlow to whittle with when we would sit on his front porch.he also taught me to shoot with his little Remington nylon 66 .22.That old Imperial barlow was the only knife i ever knew my granpa to own,i still have it today,welll worn and the blades sharpened down to splinters.My dad bought me my first gun,a used Harrington and Richardson top break 410 when i was 8,i still have that shotgun,its one of most prized possessions.Squirrell hunting,"coon"hunting,fishing,raising a garden,butchering a hog in the fall,all this was everyday life when i was a kid.Weren't nothing odd or unusual about it,just the way life was here in these Kentucky hills.Most of the men in my family owned a knife or two,my granpa and his barlow,my uncle carried a small Robeson congress for 40 yrs,was in his pocket when he died,wore slap out,blades nothing but slivers,but thats what he carried for the better part of 40 yrs.My dad carries an old Case stockman thats seen its better days,uses it for everything from peeling an apple to cleaning a squirrell.They grew up in a different time,when you used what you had,or made do.They didnt own 30 different knives or 25 guns,they were thrifty by nature and very self sufficient.Thank God i was raised that way.Anyway,thanks for the great stories,and keep posting them,they sure bring back a lot of fond memories.
 
KyThunder - Welcome to the forum - sounds like jacknife brought you into the fold!. :D Blessings my friend!. :)
 
Amos Iron Wolf said:
.. SunnyD, I'd say great minds, etc., but when you're a kid you just kind of roll with what ya can get your hands on. I still wish Daisy made a Peacemaker BB sixgun like my Uncle had. And that old .22/.410, wish I had that one still, it went down the road for a transmission a lot of years ago. My old man (the better one who came along when I was 16, whose name I took and call Dad) is still hoping to find one at a good price these days.

Wish we could sit down and swap tales. There is something that appeals to me about guns that were made for and came from an era when guns were tools that were used as a part of life. Back then 16 gauge made a lot of sense for 90% of hunting. The guns were built for the gauge and you could carry a potent shotgun over hill and dale, quite literally, for the better part of a day and you would really be able to tell the difference in your arms and step by the end of the day between carrying it and carrying a 12 gauge.

I think that is a factor in kids growing up today versus us ole farts. When we were growing up things were more open and rural. Many of us were fortunate to be around folks who made their way from earth and water, from farmers and ranchers, to rivermen and coastal fishermen. Knives and guns were first tools and part of how they lived. Enjoyment of them came second, but enjoy good tools they did. We had the advantage of association with the people and a time where we could at least be exposed to these things. Westerns and African adventure films were well represented, and the books we read were stories about outdoor adventure. Today it is a different environment, even in the rural areas. It's weird seeing a young guy in jeans and a ball cap, and a pickup in a small town with hip-hop or rap booming from his stereo. Ack, there I go rambling again.

I may have to go ahead and take that 20 something kid at work to the range one day soon.
Click to expand...

Amos, When I get some time(very soon) I will photogragh and describe some of my firarms and place them in the propper forum(he, he:D) and then perhaps we can have that little chat. God Bless You!. and jacknife, waynorth, and all the others way to numerous to mention(you all know who you are) here for keeping me sane..
 
Let me add my welcome, KyThunder. Sounds like you had a proper raising. As you said, just a way of life.

SunnyD, sounds good! Chatting with you reprobates around here helps me stay connected with where I came from and where I'd like to be. I don't feel like such a last dinosaur.
 
KyThunder,

It sounds like you had a family much like mine, and your grandad would probably have alot to talk about in common with my grandad, in spite of the difference in geography. The common working man has similar values no matter if he's in the mountains or out on the water.

You're most welcome to join us here!
 
sunnyd,Amos,Jackknife,thanks guys for the warm welcome.I'Ve been haunting this site for awhile,but the gee whiz tactical knives never took hold of me.Thus,i never posted,but reading some of the stories in the traditional section here is like going back in time.I'm from the southeast part of Kentucky,alot of the old ways still live on here,but,unfortunately,most are being lost on the kids of today.As has been said many times before,when i was going to school most everyone carried a slipjoint,even the teachers.Come September in southeast Kentucky,the schools practically had to shut down for squirrel season.Most every boy i went to school with took off for it,their dads,uncles an granpas too.Can you imagine that happening nowadays.Jackknife,i agree,a working man is a working man,doesnt matter if he's from north,south,east or west.I'm sure our grandads and dads would have had alot in common.My granpa was born in 1893,died in 1977,world war one veteran,farmer,coal miner,always wore bibbed overalls,carried that old Imperial Barlow everywhere he went and used it for everything too.Like i said before,thanks for the warm welcome.Almost like coming home.
 
KyThunder said:
Come September in southeast Kentucky,the schools practically had to shut down for squirrel season.Most every boy i went to school with took off for it,their dads,uncles an granpas too.Can you imagine that happening nowadays.
Click to expand...

KyThunder, welcome to the forum, from one KY guy to another.
My dad used to say the same thing about when he went to school here. Things have changed, but I do remember that one of the few times my dad would let me miss school without being sick was the opening of dove season, so some things do stay the same.
 
Welcome KY. You've picked the best board on the site to post in. I have a lot of different knives and enjoy reading all of the posts. IMO there is no other board where the folks seem more genuine and like people you would be proud to call friends. More integrity and virture here than anywhere else. A lot of men that remind of my late grandfather as well. Spending time reading jacknife's posts brings back alot of fond memories. Enjoy your time here!
 
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