My sentimental gun is a S&W Model 66 stainless .357 revolver. It was my duty gun back when cops carried revolvers, and it was the gun that saved my life in an exchange of gunfire on a domestic disturbance call.
The short version of the story is that he was drunk and hiding while waiting for us after his wife called. He fired first with an old .45 revolver, his bullet impacted a door frame about an inch from my left ear. I returned fire with two .357 copper jacked HP rounds center mass, one entered his heart and he died before he could get another round off… as he was in the process of turning and aiming at another Officer.
While I have lots of other guns that include my favorites - 1911s- and other semi- autos, a quality revolver still holds a special place in my heart. I’ve recently acquired a brushed stainless Kimber K6S with 3 inch barrel, and a Ruger SP-101 with a 4 inch barrrel. Both are chambered for the round that also holds a special place in my heart from that night… the .357 magnum.
Winchester model 74.
My dad had one when I was a kid. My brother and I were in awe of that rifle when my dad got it down. All he had was that .22, and an old 20 gauge single shot.
When he passed, he gave it to my younger brother. My older brother got our grandfathers single shot 12 gauge, and I got the 20. My younger brother’s wife was a bit on the anti gun side of life at the time, so I traded some other stuff for the '74. Fast forward 10 years, the anti gun thing is a thing of the past. Feeling somewhat guilty, I found a nice model 74, had my older brother refinish it (he’s really good at it), and quite ceremoniously returned dad’s '74 to my younger brother. Older brother had previously found a nice '74 he refinished for himself. All of us now armed with this odd .22 semi rifle, a trip to the range was arranged. A great time shooting, reminiscing, and a few hidden tears forever welded these guns to sentimental value for life. Anti gunners would never understand… I only hope our grandsons (or daughters) will, and can, carry on the tradition.
Two for me, a Stevens Model 1915 22LR octagon barrel from my Grandfather, and my first gun my Dad bought for me - a 1958 Belgium built Browning Auto 5 “Sweet Sixteen” shotgun.
To be honest, I’d say it’s my Mosin Nagant M91/30 from 1942. It was my first rifle I used my own money for and I killed my first deer with it. I remember saving my money and giving my father the money to buy it when I was 14.
Mine would be a West German SIG P228, that I bought new. It’s been with me a long time, and even served as my duty weapon for about 4 years. Sig Custom Shop was running a Father’s Day Special a few years ago, so I had the slide re-blued, springs replaced, and night sights installed. It mainly sits in the safe now, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
I bought my first carry gun in 2003 when I became a PI. It is a Sig P232 in stainless steel. It is a .380, and is Sig’s take on a Walther PPK I suppose. It has a heel mag release which negates a quick mag change. 7 round, DA/SA with a decocker. I love it and could never part with it. My business partner back then became my dear wife, so I associate the pistol with our partnership and teamwork. Thus the sentimental attachment for my P232 SL.
My sentimental gun is a S&W Model 66 .357 stainless with 4 inch barrel.
It was my duty weapon as a Police Officer back in 1981 when I was dispatched to a domestic disturbance report by a teen age girl saying her Father was threatening to kill her Mother. It turned into an ambush against myself and two other responding Officers. That Model 66 saved my life that night.
All three Officers and both the shooter’s wife and teen age daughter survived that night, the shooter went to the morgue. I personally survived a .45 ACP round impacting a door frame one inch from my left ear.
I think I have good reason to be sentimental about that gun.
Thanks. It’s a fact of life in the job of a Police Officer, thankfully some Officers can retire without ever engaging someone actively trying to end their life.
My reaction was pure training, training, training, both in the Army in Vietnam, and as a SWAT trained Officer. It’s the main reason I stress training and practice to all the gun Owners I know.
I’m old and retired now, but my son is now a Police Officer, proof that a Father’s concern is never ending.
Winchester Model 1894, manufactured 1898. And sold to my family back then. .32-40, with silver inlay engravings, and tigereye maple stocks.
The history of this rifle is incredible. My dad shot his first buck with it, probably around 1933. He took it with him on every duty assignment while in the service. I did the same, later. He used it tiger hunting with the Emperor of VietNam in 1950. Used it black bear hunting in Hokkaido, Japan in 1958. I spoiled the ‘provenance’ by taking it squirrel hunting in Oklahoma!
I’ve always thought of it as the sort of rifle that should be on the cover of American Rifleman.
This is my most cherished item. It is a custom German Double gun, 16 ga., from 1949. My father was a fighter pilot during ww2 and we were station in Berlin where he served during the airlift after the war ended. I was born during that period. He had the gun made by a man whose family had made custom guns for decades. Unfortunately he lived in the Russian controlled area and disappeared trying to bring the second set of barrels to my father. There is a lot more to this story, but it takes a long time to tell. Anyway I have the original papers where my father brought the gun home to the states. My biggest concern now is what to do with the gun when I’m gone.
I would love to talk my uncle into selling back my first real gun. It’s special because my dad gave it to me when I was young, 12 or 13. I don’t remember why I sold it to him. I probably needed the money. I was 16 when I sold it. I can’t believe my parents let me do that. That $175 I sold it for would take about $1800 to replace it now.
One of my best friends and mentors passed away and left me some of his guns. Of note is a 4” pristine Python in the old Royal Blue which I have since fitted with real Ivory grips with the Colt medallion. I LOVE that gun as much as I cared for the man who gifted it to me.
I have a SxS 12 ga shotgun from Royal Gun Works in Belgium. It has Damascus wrapped wire steel barrels and shoots paper black powder shells. External hammers…percussion locks…fine French Walnut stock and fore grip. It’s a field gun, not all fru-fru’d up with checkering, engraving, or gold inlays. It still shoots and is all original except for 1 screw holding 1 hammer on. I had the replacement screw made to match in appearance, but not metallurgy. It has been in the family for 3 generations. My grandfather was a railroad conductor in the early 20th century. He also loved to shoot craps. He won this shotgun from some rich Englishman in a game of craps on the train as he headed out West to hunt. My father hunted with it and I have fired it, but it is now a safe queen residing at an undisclosed and secure location in another state.
At only a third of the price of an after-market wood grip; And among three different grips tried, I find it easier to use, and find it more comfortable. It even covers the metal rear/backstrap of the gun handle.
When removing an old grip, please use extra care not to scratch your gun, go real slow and try to use a smooth plastic card to slowly loosen up the old grip before your remove it. A hook tool from a good gun cleaning kit or a small narrow thin caulking tool from your household painter’s plaster spreader might do.
This Is going to sound cheesy as heck, but I saw this thread and figured I’d share my day’s favorite and why it’s the favorite of the day…
I have several that were passed down, and at some point in my life each one makes it’s place in my memory. I have no particular favorite at any time, but it seems that every so often, something comes up that kicks in a memory or something. One of them is an old A5 that now sits in the safe most of the time because work takes up more of my time than I care to admit…every time I shoot it, I go straight back to memories with my dad. Well, earlier today I was planning to take a trip down to visit and shoot clays with him. During the call, he asked how that old gun was… after I got off the phone with him I went and got it out of the safe to clean it. In the process of making sure it was clear, I went back to our last dove season together…it was so real I could smell the burned powder and hear the grass in breeze. We walked for a little and it was gone… Today that is the one with the most sentimental value. Tomorrow it will probably be a different one.
