Fight Like My Mother
Updated: May 20, 2020
Being the daughter of a Law Enforcement Officer, you hear some pretty wild stories. Being a rebellious and headstrong daughter of a Law Enforcement Officer, sometimes you're part of those pretty wild stories. LOL!
(We'll leave those for another blog post, later... down the road somewhere.)
Of course, if you haven't read any of my prior posts, I'm sure you can tell from me being a Cop's Kid, it's obvious that my father taught me about guns, and how to shoot. He had me shooting rather early in life, too.
Around the age of 4 years old, I was a "Little Daisy," showing off my Daisy BB Gun to family and friends all over. It was unloaded about 99.9% of the time and I was never allowed to handle it without an adult nearby, with a knowledge on firearms. Handling them at 4 was a means to a lifelong lesson and appreciation for GUNS.
One of my earliest memories of my firearms training with Dad, was him taking me outside at the age of 6 or so, and he'd put about 10 BBs in the gun. Then he'd set up a leaf or an old playing card on a level surface, and he'd make me stand about 5 to 10 feet away, have me aim, shoot, then switch shoulders (where the butt of the gun rests- to switch from right handed/ left handed shooting). After a while, once I was hitting my targets from both aim stances, he'd put 10 more BBs in the chamber and have me stand 15 feet away from new targets he'd set up. The cycle continued until I was hitting my targets at the max distance for a little ol BB gun (about 30-35 feet away).
I can also remember asking my Dad, "Why just 10 BBs at a time?" He told me that was to teach me to be restrictive with my ammo. "When you shoot... make it count," he'd say. Depending on what I hit or missed, he'd make a note and we'd go home. If I made my target 10x, he'd put 10 more BBs in the chamber and move me back to a new aiming distance.
Granted, I have many fond memories of my dad teaching me the life lessons a father passes along to his kids, but one of those lessons in particular, involving my Ma, stands out the most.
When asking my Ma (my mom- I've never called her "Mom" or "Mama" or "Mommy"), how she feels about Gun Control, she scoffs and laughs. A well versed woman who's cultured, talented, well educated, independent, genuine... she's not paying me to say these things, so I'll stop there (LOL! I get my humor from my Ma as well)... my Ma probably instilled in me the biggest lesson on "Gun Control" that I've ever had in my 29 + years of living, and she doesn't even know it.
My Dad dubbed this story,
”Annie Oakley and the O-K Corral."
My Ma is a city girl. She was raised in a mill area, surrounded by people and businesses. My Grandfather, being former US Navy, of course taught my Ma and her older brother how to shoot, using a BB gun. As my Ma recalls, they'd take targets and hang them on the clothesline in the backyard and shoot for fun off of their back porch steps.
In time, of course, she met my father, the oldest child/ son of poor farmers. Time went on, they got hitched and ended up moving into a little trailer on my father's family farm. My Ma sa