Family shotgun holds lasting, fond memories

When my Daddy died in 1990, my brother Billy inherited Dad’s old Model 12 Winchester pump 12 gauge shotgun. I got Daddy’s Remington 1100.

The Winchester model 12 was the gun Daddy carried on squirrel and duck hunts during my childhood and teenage years. The Model 12 Winchester pump is considered by many to be the best pump shotgun ever made.

According to a serial number, the shotgun was made in 1932. Daddy bought it from a duck hunter before I was born in 1941. It was well used when he purchased it from the duck hunter.

The gun holds many memories for me. I can still see Daddy with that long 30-inch barrel cradled in his arm during many squirrel hunts in the Big Thicket in Southeast Texas.

Before I was born [perhaps I was a toddler] Daddy and his squirrel hunting pal, Malcolm Williams, were hunting in the thicket with Malcolm’s good squirrel dog, Blue. We always hunted squirrels with good squirrel dogs. Daddy considered that those who still hunted for squirrels without dogs were less cool.

The two hunters ran to the tree where Blue was “treed.” They shook a vine, the squirrel ran and Daddy killed the squirrel and put it in his hunting vest.

Suddenly, the Model 12, which was cradled in Daddy’s arm, fired without the trigger being pulled.

The shot killed Blue who was between Malcolm and Daddy. Malcolm carried Blue out of the woods crying. Both men were crying.

The Winchester was sent back to the factory and it was repaired internally.

Fast forward to the early 1960s. Daddy and I drew permits to hunt deer in the Gus Engling WMA near Palestine, Texas. We had never deer hunted. We had no deer rifles.

The ranger placed Daddy in the thick woods where several deer trails crossed. Daddy loaded the old Model 12 with 00 buck shot.

Soon, a six-point buck came down one of the trails.

The 12-gauge boomed and the deer went down. Then the deer got up and another load of buckshot whizzed by him. Daddy chased the wounded deer, firing the pump rapidly. One of the pellets hit home.

When Daddy walked up to the deer, it was not dead. But it couldn’t run. So Daddy decided to knock him out [no shotgun shells left]. He stood behind the buck and slammed the deer between the horns with the long barrel of the Winchester. The barrel bent like a bowtie on the hard skull. So, try again. This time with the gun stock. It shattered.

So, Daddy tied the horns to a small tree and went to cut a stick. With a nice green club, he kept on pounding the deer between the horns. No luck. The deer wouldn’t die. Finally, the frustrated hunter pinned the antlers to the ground and cut the buck’s throat.

Daddy dragged the deer to the road knowing a ranger would soon arrive since he had shot so many times. When the ranger arrived, Daddy was lying beside the road. He was exhausted. And what a mess! Covered with mud and blood and holding the remains of his shotgun.

Back at camp, Daddy told the story to all the rangers around a campfire. They couldn’t stop laughing. In a very unusual chance, Daddy was drawn again to hunt the WMA the next year. When he stepped out of the truck, the ranger shouted, “That’s him. That’s the guy.” They had another big laugh when they made him tell the story again.

Daddy had a gunsmith straighten the barrel and he put a new stock on the old Model 12.

When my brother Billy inherited the old Winchester, he paid for a total makeover, totally re-blued and a new beautiful stock. It went into his gun cabinet and was never used.

Billy died of brain cancer in early September. After the funeral, we–my wife Beth and I, were at my nephew David’s house for lunch.

My brother Wayne and Billy’s other son, Daniel, were there. When Beth and I began to leave to drive home [long drive from Memphis to Texas], the two brothers said, “We have a surprise for you.”

Shortly before Billy died, he told my brother Wayne that he wanted me to have the Model 12.

I cried when they handed me the shotgun.

I probably won’t shoot it much. I have other great shotguns. But it will hold a premiere place in my gun cabinet.