Dec. 24, 2002, 5:53PM
Gift guns and responsibility still go hand in hand
By JOE DOGGETT
Copyright 2002 Houston Chronicle
During the 1950s, when I was a kid, Christmas seemed to center on sparkling trees and glowing fireplaces. And, increasingly, television sets.
Adults and children would hover around the small oval screens in the huge wooden cabinets and watch the grainy black and white images -- especially the "Christmas special" variety shows at night.
These were memorable elements of the Eisenhower-era holiday season. But the big deal, at least to a pre-teen boy, was the growing stack of presents under the tree -- not the lightweight boxes that contained boring items of clothing but the heavy, solid packages that hinted of something special.
Top-wish items included Lionel model trains, Rawlings baseball gloves and Schwinn bicycles. And, of course, guns. All types of guns.
Gift guns ranged from harmless cap pistols to semi-dangerous air rifles and pellet guns to dangerous .22-caliber rifles to very dangerous shotguns and center-fire deer rifles. No one seemed concerned about giving a suitable gun to a kid for Christmas; to the contrary, the long, narrow box of delicious heft and dreadful potential was regarded as a special present.
My first real gun was a Daisy air rifle. I desperately wanted a Beretta single-shot 12-gauge shotgun, but wise old Santa realized I did not have the opportunity or training for a shotgun. The gift Daisy was a Model 25, the pump-action that carried a tubular magazine of 50 BBs and shot considerably harder than the Red Ryder lever-cocking models.
I learned a lot about shooting with that air rifle. I literally wore it out firing thousands and thousands of BBs in vacant lots and along the uncut banks of Brays Bayou. I became a polished marksman -- probably better then than now, based on the hours and hours of field practice.
And I learned a lot about responsibility; an air rifle is not a toy. The gleaming, whizzing projectile can break a bottle or ruin an eye. It can hit with surprising authority at considerable distance. You do not point a gun -- any real gun -- recklessly, and you do not pull the trigger unless you are confident of the situation. You could learn all that and much more while wearing out a Model 25 Daisy.
You still can.
No doubt, many gift guns were waiting under Christmas trees this morning. Texas remains a stronghold for hunting and shooting, a heritage passed each year from parents to children. Guns might not be as generally accepted as they were during the 1950s, but the long, hefty boxes are there, and grand gifts in some eager young hands.
But with the gun comes the awesome responsibility of using it with safety and wisdom. It, more so than a ball glove or a computer game, is a rite of passage.
Robert Ruark, the great outdoors writer of the 1950s, expressed the responsibility of a new gun in The Old Man and the Boy when the "Old Man" (his maternal grandfather) gave the boy a 20-gauge shotgun: "I want to tell you one thing: You have got my reputation in your hands right now. Your mother thinks I'm a damned old idiot to give a shirt-tail boy a gun that is just about as tall as the boy is.
"I told her I'd be personally responsible for you and the gun and the way you use it. I told her that any time a boy is ready to learn about guns is the time he's ready, no matter how young he is, and you can't start too young to learn how to be careful. What you got in your hands is a dangerous weapon. It can kill you, or kill me, or kill a dog. You always got to remember that when the gun is loaded it makes a potential killer out of the man that's handling it. Don't you ever forget it."
Hunting is becoming safer in Texas. Increased emphasis on hunter-education classes is one big factor. So, it is hoped, is parental guidance. According to the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, there were 51 shooting-related hunting accidents in 2000; last year, the tally dropped to 43.
As of early December, only 23 shooting-related hunting accidents were reported. At least two were fatal. Still, with more than a million hunting licenses issued each year in Texas, those are positive numbers and the trend is aiming in the right direction.
But the ultimate responsibility waits in the hands of each shooter. The youngster holding a gift gun and admiring the walnut stock and the rich bluing has been presented with a huge accountability.
He is being told: I trust you as an adult.
And, regardless of make, model or action, that makes the gift gun one of the finest presents of all.
Joe Doggett covers the outdoors for the Chronicle. His column appears Wednesdays, Thursdays and Sundays.
