The movie "A Christmas Story" has always had
a special place in my heart. Every boy growing
up can hardly wait for his first
BB gun. It’s a rite of passage. But, we all faced the same obstacle.
Mothers. “You’ll shoot your eye out!” I had just turned ten, and my
father had finally prevailed.
The movie, "A Christmas Story"- it's a family classic. |
Very
early Christmas morning, before any of
the rest of the family was awake, I left my bedroom in stealth mode. I
crept quietly
up the basement steps, through the kitchen and into the living room to
examine what booty Santa had left. No wrapped presents at our house.
There in the soft glow of the Christmas lights on my assigned chair,
right next to the stuffed stocking, lay a long thin
box. Yes! It could only be one thing. Printed on the side was a
magnificent
picture of a Daisy Red Rider Lever-action BB gun. It had finally
happened. I could hardly contain my joy. I'd be the envy of every kid in
the neighborhood.
Ralphie trying out his new Daisy Red Rider. |
Hefting the box I made a shocking discovery. It was empty. What the heck! Was this some kind of sick joke? I frantically searched the room, in the closets, behind the curtains and under the couch, but no BB gun. With lingering questions and fading hope I headed back to bed.
By sunrise the house was alive with the
sounds of happy kids and parents enjoying the surprises of Christmas morning. “How
do you like the present Santa brought you?” questioned Dad. “Oh, you mean the
empty box?” I groaned. “Oh, it’s real alright and it's magnificent,” he chuckled. Dad left the
room and returned with the real thing, the Daisy Red Rider. Together we read
the instructions and danger warnings. Then, after swearing blood oaths, “cross
you heart and hope to die,” and any other promises my parents could swear me to,
the Daisy Red Rider was finally really mine.
Official Daisy Red Rider Lever-action BB gun |
The wood stock felt comfortable in my arms as I cradled it, lined up a shot and gently pulled the trigger. Wow! This is a beauty, I thought. Shooting at targets and stationary tin cans was fun, however I soon lost interest. After all, I was born to be a Backwoods Hunter, killer of wild animals just like my hero, Davy Crockett.
Roaming the nearby hills, tracking
down lizards and squirrels proved disappointing. They wouldn't sit still long enough to get off a good shot. It was in Stewart
Grow’s orchard that I finally found my wild pray. Birds. They could be spotted
flitting through the branches of the fruit trees. If I stalked quietly I might
get close enough to squeeze off a winning shot. Sure enough, after several near
misses, my BB found its mark. A small bird tumbled from branch to branch,
finally coming to rest at the base of a peach tree. Hurrying over to examine my
trophy I couldn’t wait. There in the grass lay a small beautiful bird. My shot
had hit it, but it was still alive. Wounded mortally, peeping weakly, it was
suffering a slow death. What I saw broke my heart. With tears in my eyes, I took
careful aim and put the struggling little bird out of its misery. The great Hunter
of Wild Beasts had lost all interest in killing.
My 93-year-old dad, R Max Rogers, with his new Daisy Red Rider BB gun. My mom, Florence, has given in and is trying to be supportive. |
Fifty years later the roles were reversed. Again over the protests of my mom, I bought my 93 year old dad a Daisy Red Rider BB gun for his birthday. He needed it to scare away the neighborhood cats that were using his vegetable grow box as a community outhouse. We brought out the old targets and tin cans, then shot off a few rounds for old times sake. Dad's gone now, but I still have the Daisy Red Rider and a load of great memories.
No comments:
Post a Comment