I became fascinated with handguns, especially six-guns sometime during my high school years. A friend had obtained a High Standard double action that really lit my fire. He was more than willing to let me shoot with him, and we did…a lot. I even made a set of one piece walnut grips for the gun…sort of a pre-payment approach to handgunning. All this was nice, but I needed (wanted) a gun of my own. This was a time, mid sixties, when Bill Ruger was doing those wonderful things with his single actions. The local sporting goods store would, from time to time have a fixed sight Ruger single six on display and I knew that one of those Rugers was the six-gun that I had to have. Then one day when making my rounds of the gun cabinets in the store I saw it. The first super single six with adjustable sights and the extra 22 Mag cylinder the store had received. That was it….I had to look no further…I had to have that six-gun.

Financing…..isn’t it funny how some things never seem to change? How was I going to finance the purchase of of this beauty? The price, if I remember correctly was somewhere between $60.00 and $70.00….a lot of money for a high school kid in the sixties, especially for something like a handgun. My dad was not much of a hunter or shooter so I knew better than to approach the finance question with him.

We lived in a coastal town on the Gulf coast so there was a lot of activities associated with water sports, fishing etc. One of those was a method of fishing for saltwater species with a throw net, locally known as a "cast net". My dad was a barber by trade but was also an avid fisherman…especially with a cast net. In his spare time between customers at the barber shop he would hand tie or "net" these cast nets for his own use and also for sale to people who was of similar persuasion. Each net, depending on its length would take him from 50 to 70 hours to make. At the bottom of the net there had to be a "lead line". This was a line attached to the net containing a number of hollow lead weights which served the purpose of causing the net to sink when thrown over the fish. Dad had made his own molds for casting these weights and would contract with me to perform the molding operation when he needed a set of weights for a net. When he sold a net he would pay me a percentage for my efforts.

Dad was not the only person around who made these cast nets. There were others who made them but not many had the capability to mold their own weights. These people usually bought their cast net making supplies at the local sporting goods store…yea the same one that had the Ruger. I remembered seeing some weights when in the store from time to time but there never seemed to be a consistent supply. This started the wheels turning. I remember going to the store and asking to see Mr. Barns, the owner. Mr. Barns knew my dad and family so I wasn’t totally plowing new ground but I still wasn’t sure how he would react to the plan I intended to propose. My plan was to finance the purchase of the Ruger by providing the store with cast net weights for re-sale to those making their own nets. When I presented my plan to Mr. Barns, to my amazement he agreed without a lot of convincing. We agreed that I would supply enough cast net weights to totally cover the purchase of the Ruger and that he would put the Ruger in "lay away" until payment was completed. I couldn’t believe it! A deal was struck, all verbal….my word that I would supply the weights and his word that the Ruger would be mine. A price of three cents a piece for the weights was agreed on. Mr. Barns would re-sale them for four cents each.

It was summertime and hot and humid in the panhandle region of Florida…it didn’t matter. Every bit of spare time I had I was in my dad’s workshop with the lead pot blasting, molding those weights. Dad would come out ever so often and perform a quality check. He would say, "son, don’t provide any weights that we would not use ourselves". "If it isn’t good enough for our use, it isn’t good enough for sale to Mr. Barns." He would take one and bend it. If it broke, it was no good. Cast net weights had to be dead soft…brittle weights could later break and cause damage to the net.

Mr. Barns and I had agreed that I would supply the weights in batches… a batch being a two pound coffee can full. Batch size was mainly determined by the fact that this was about the largest size from a weight standpoint I could carry while riding a bicycle. It took all summer to mold those weights. I would complete a batch and take them to the sporting goods store. Mr. Barns would take my word about the quantity in each batch and would credit my account. He would also go to the safe and remove the Ruger and let me handle it…man was it hard to put that gun back in its box, watch Mr. Barns slip it back into the safe and turn that combination lock.

This routine continued for I don’t know how many times until the day arrived that the last batch of weights was completed. I remember including some "extras" to make sure the quantity was not short….another quality/integrity item from dad.

It was mine…finally!! The deal was finalized…two people had kept their word…I had learned a lot…Mr. Barns threw in a box of shells. Picture this….a teenage kid leaving the local sporting goods store with a newly purchased handgun and live ammo with no adult supervision or co-signing! A simpler time.

Me and the Ruger spent a lot of time together. I learned a lot about shooting a handgun from that gun. It took a lot of squirrels, rabbits, snakes and dirt clods (we don’t have too many rocks in Florida). I never used the 22 Mag very much…shells were expensive and I was tired of molding cast net weights.

I don’t still have the little Ruger. In a moment of weakness I sold it to my brother. He still has and uses it and has promised if he ever decides to part with it I will get first choice. I don’t think he ever will…..he has a son that is probably heir to it. This is good…..it will remain in the family. It’s always nice to have something that has a story.