Genealogists and family historians get a lot of
satisfaction from chasing their ancestors’ stories. Finding a diary, a message
on a postcard, or a photo with a name attached is like the sun coming out after
a storm. One day we will be somebody’s ancestor. We need to leave our
descendants a little bit of sunshine too. So here is my story told
alphabetically, not chronologically: Growing Up in Cradock.
is for unnerving memory.
How old was I? 7? 8? 9 maybe? Like so many other times, I
was playing at my grandparents’ home next door. Most of the time, my friends
and I played in the yard or in the garage. Sometimes we actually played in the
house. My grandparents had an old desk with lots of cubbies and little drawers
that made good hiding places for small objects; one of us would hide something
and the other would try to guess where.
On this particular day, a neighborhood friend and I were
playing inside. We were in the bedroom where we shouldn’t have been. We were
snooping where we had no business snooping. I opened a dresser drawer and found
this:
 |
| Pearl-handled snub-nose 38 pistol Not THE gun that I found but similar according to my mind's eye |
It was so cute. White handle. Child-size.
It must be a toy. After all, only cowboys and bad guys
had real guns. And my granddaddy was not a bad guy. He certainly wasn’t a
cowboy.
I pointed it at my friend. I pulled the trigger. We both
laughed.
“Look what I found!” I said joyfully as I handed the
pretty little toy to my grandmother. My, but she looked grim. I don’t know what
became of it; I never saw it again.
With unabashed admiration for my utterly unequal
colleagues, I issue this ultimatum for you to unite with umpteen users at the A to Z April Challenge to uncover some uncanny and unconventional blogs that will
be unveiled to you.
© 2016, Wendy Mathias. All rights reserved.
Thankful it wasn't loaded! I bet your grandmother was horrified with what you had found and I'm sure it was put well away so you wouldn't find it again :)
ReplyDeletebetty
I can just imagine the conversation between my grandmother and grandfather after that!
DeleteThank goodness it wasn't loaded! Such innocent escapes could have turned nasty so easily. I'm glad you never saw it again. Lesson to grandparents: Store you gun out of reach. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad too. I'd probably be in loony bin had I shot my friend.
DeleteWow, that sent shivers down my spine thinking about what a close call that was. YIKES!
ReplyDeleteWhenever the news reports about one child shooting another, I KNOW how it happens. Horrible, just horrible.
DeleteYikes! This made my stomach hurt to imagine what could have happened!
ReplyDeleteMine too. I hate this memory.
DeleteUnnerving to say the least, and one I am surprised you didn't intentionally forget. Better to use it as a learning experience and move on. My Dad was a cowboy, and used his guns to shoot varmits and snakes...the animal kind. The snake shootings still scare me.
ReplyDeleteSue at CollectInTexas Gal
I've tried to forget it. Before A-Z started, I looked at the questions for "The Book of Me" meme and a few others concerning telling one's own story, and "Unnerving Memory" was suggested and that was it -- the memory came back.
DeleteHow scary to think what could have happened to you and your friend.
ReplyDeleteIt did happen to my friend when I was a little girl. Patti and another child were playing cops/robbers, or cowboys/Indians, one of those types of games. The gun was pointed at Patti. The trigger pulled. The gun was not empty. She was in a coma for the longest time. I still remember the morning that the phone rang and my mama came to tell me that Patti had died. It still brings tears to my eyes when I think of it.
I am so glad that no one got hurt during your play time.
Have a blessed evening.
How incredibly sad and tragic. So common. So preventable. Still shocking every time.
DeleteUnnerving is right! Yikes! Guns scare me.
ReplyDeleteThey scare me too.
DeleteI understand your inquisitiveness. I remember many years ago sneaking a peak at my dad's pistol in the drawer at his work. We knew we weren't allowed to touch (as it was loaded)and were being naughty just opening the drawer to take a peek!
ReplyDeleteI appreciate the company in the naughty girls club.
DeleteOh Wendy - that is an unnerving memory indeed. I remember how cross I was when I found out our neighbour had a gun. I understood that she invested in it for her own family's protection (a less than amicable divorce) but I was always worried with children around lest it fall into the wrong hands.
ReplyDeleteWow! That was a lucky escape and you probably nearly gave your grandmother a heart attack! I too lived next to my grandparents..a very special experience.
ReplyDelete