I remember my grandfather selling all of his rifles for next to nothing. He was a preacher in Appalachia and times got tough every now and then. Me living with them prolly didn’t help. I always wanted to find the guy that bought them to see if he still had any and what he would want for it/them. I’d give an arm and maybe a leg to be able to pass one to my kid.
My other grandpa was a preacher too. There isn’t much but things were not important to either of them.
My father had a Belgium Browning Sweet Sixteen that I really wanted however. I offered pop what he paid for it several times over the years but dad was nowhere near ready to part with it. One evening he calls me and explains that he lost his last dollars gambling with colleagues in Dallas and needed some dough to get back home. Well, and not let my stepmother know. I made a deal for that gun for $250. My kid will at least get that one and a story to boot!
