Originally Posted by
Slowpoke
I bought one in 308 Win when I was twelve years old, killed my first legal Javelina,deer and elk with ammo I loaded with it, I retired it when I was fifteen, I still have it.
I still have my original home made hammer built just for the Lee loader. It was made by a old Hermit I met one day out it the hill's and became good friends with, ED Whetstone was his name I called him Flintstone, he was from Wisconsin had marital problems told the judge and his ex- wife good luck with collecting any alimony from him and disappeared into S. AZ and became a prospector, hard rock miner, and mechanic second to none, he made my hammer out of solid brass both handle and head, knurled the handle and inscribed the head.
A few years later I came real close to killing him one night about two in the morning. He had a Zinc mine on the SW end of the Hauchuca MTNS, he would work there all week then on Friday I would come up and relieve him while he went to town for the weekend, I had a old hound named Dooley he would go with me, so this one Friday I met Flintstone on the road and he said to be careful at night because a bear had been coming around the shack , so on Saturday night about two in the morning old Dooley woke me up and he was baying and growling under the shanty and about that time I heard crunch crunch out side in the leaves, this shanty had four steps up to the front door with a small landing at the top, I kept a old gold pan there to feed Dooley in, the door didn't have a lock so I propped a chair up against it at night, anyway the crunch crunch led right up to and on the step's and then I heard the gold pan go tumbling off the landing well by this time I was out of bed and had the 44 in my hand leveled at the door, hammer back and about that time the door came flying in off the hinges and then a gun went off but it wasn't mine and in the muzzle flash I made out the silhouette of Flintstone, he had kicked the door in and fired a shot from his 45 into the ceiling at the same time, he was drunk had a couple of bar queens in his truck that was stuck down the canyon and had hiked up and decided to scare me in the process. I was sixteen at the time.
MEMORIES
GOOD LUCK