My Dad & I went to my first Turkey Shoot when I was 11 years old. A bunch of men and their sons were there. (No, it wasn't a Klan meeting!) It was a cool autumn night  with the stars shining brightly in the dark Carolina sky and there was a fire going with hickory and oak logs burning. Us young buzzards were feeling 12 feet tall and bullet proof, as we got to hang out with the men and shoot guns to boot and tell a war-story or two at school the next day .  A rite of passage, you might say.

A buddy of mine was there and had a single shot .410. He let me use his smokepole on the firing line, as Dad thought maybe his 12 gauge, full choked, 32" barrel , single shot Iver & Johnson would be too much gun for my young shoulder.

I shot the .410, but none of my BB's came close enough to the "X" on the card, each time I entered the contest, in my attempts to win a frozen turkey. No matter, I went home that night and remember being tucked into bed by my Mom on that chilly night with a smile on my face and hickory smoke in my nostrils and reflecting on the compliments that my Dad had given me on the ride home, regarding my shooting and safe-handling of the gun.

I was officially "hooked" from that point on.

TB

My real first experience was shooting 22's with my brother and sister's.

I remeber taking my crossman bb gun out when I was ten or so with a friend to shoot cans. An unfortunate chickadee landed nearby which I devilishly shot. I felt horribly and even went so far as to bury it and make a headstone. That was my first experience with a gun and death, and let me tell you, for a ten year old it was sobering.
Another noteable shooting first was with the rifle I was soon to use in my then first year of deer hunting. It was a pre 64 Winchester 30-30 model 94 with a tasco 3-9 scope on a side mount. We went to the range and set up some targets. My Dad reviewed the gun with me and decided to take the first few shots. On the second shot he winced and looked at me. There was a large crescent of crimson extending over his right eye, that eventually required stitches. Imagine my concern as he insisted that it was an accident and that I'd be fine! I couldn't hit the back side of a barn that day!
A week later on the season opener we looked atop a power line we's just stepped onto and there was a buck! I pulled up and that gun swayed to and fro. Trying to steady myself and my fears, my Dad whispered "just shoot". I did ( I believe with eyes closed) and that darned fork-horn fell right there!!! Absolutely amazing!

TB do you realize that was 54 years ago for me. I just don't remember. I do know wasn't trained very well with a shotgun and couldn't hit beans. Well that hasn't changed much has it......Bob

For me it was "hunting" sparrows with a bb gun. You know the kind, you could watch the bb arch as it sailed towards the target. We would have had better luck throwing rocks at the darn things, but we had a great time.

I had heard a couple of my friends in the 7th grade halls one day when they asked each other if they were "heading out to the club tonight" this peaked my interest.

I asked what club? my friend explained that his grandfather was the president of a local club and said I could come to the bi-monthly youth meetings.
As soon as I went home I told my dad...

He was so excited he took me into his bedroom and pulled out an older Belgian Browning B-2000. It was his first BRAND NEW hunting gun when he was my age. I went to the club and we began shooting skeet...first target up I hit....been hooked on the sport for the past 5 years. I now use the b-2000 for geese and turkey...he gave it to me.