My Father and Handguns

This story has many facets I hope I can bring them all together. This story takes place sometimes between 1911-1914. My father, a teenager standing 5 ft. 7 inches and weighing about 120 lb., thought he would have a better standing with his peers if he had a pistol to carry. After the sale of some commodity he purchased a handgun.

His first night out with his handgun, there was a half moon in the east, not dark, not bright. The barn, where my father’s riding horse was housed, was built with a driveway running east to west with stalls on each side for horses and cows. This night the doors on the east side were closed and the west side open. This left the driveway with some light, but very little.
Now let me take the story in another direction to complete my father point of view. This age all farmers had 1- to 3 milk cows for use domestically. I have no idea how many they had, but one had become very sick and could not get upright. She was left to die. The cow was white faced, black body.

This night my father brought his horse to the gear room on the west side of the barn to remove the saddle. He left on the bridle to led the horse to the only open stall of course he had left the door open. Upon coming to the stall, he and the horse both sees the white, nearly round image in the middle of the door. Fear was within he and the horse. His only grace from fear was calming his horse. Several moments of fear within passed before he determined the white image was the head of the sick cow that some how managed to get up and walk to the barn and entered the only open stall.

My father relates as he walked, about 100 yards, to the house he feels the handgun against his body. The handgun was supposed to help with fear. It had not helped in this incident. He began to doubt if it would help in others. He put his gun away never to carry it again.

Author: harold