Dad had just gotten home and called my brother Seth and I up stairs. When we walked into the living room dad was proudly holding a brand new .410 shotgun / 30mm survival rifle. I think I said something like. "Wow dad, does mom know you bought this?"
Dad: "No, this is going to be just between us, that way when were camping and a we need some protection, I can whip this out and surprise your mother." (It was something like that.)
Dad had us grab our shotguns and .22s and we headed out to the vale hills to do some shooting.
First on the agenda of course was shooting the brand new .410. If I remember right we set it up to shoot a couple of 30mm shells first, after that we got it ready to shoot the .410 shotgun shells. Seth and I tried to shoot a few clay pigeons with it but were unsuccessful. We blamed it on how small the shells were.
Dad then had a revolutionary idea. He wanted to see the pattern that the .410 shotgun was creating. So he had Seth prop up a big piece of board that happened to be there. I don't think dad realized it was a 1" 1/2 piece of plexiglass. (For his pride we'll say he didn't)
I remember looking at that plexiglass and thinking "There's no way that gun is going to shoot through this."
Seth/Sam : "Dad I don't think you should shoot this thing."
Seth and I both voiced our concerns about shooting at the plexiglass, but dad wouldn't hear it. I believe his comment was, "If you're scared go hide behind the car." and that's exactly what we did.
Dad shot.
AHGH! @#$%
Dad immediately drop the .410 and grabbed his face. Seth and I both darted over to see what had happened. Well, it was obvious. About ever 2 inches of dad's face had a small pellet wedge into it. Dad had hit it's target perfectly and then all those pellets had come ricocheting right back at him.
I remember saying something like "Well, you'll be able to see the pattern for sure now." (he told me to shut-up.)
Seth and I dug out all the pellets that we could, but it was obvious that we were going to need some tweezers or something to get the rest out.
We packed up everything and Seth and I tried to convince dad that one of us should drive. (We were just trying to get a chance to drive because we couldn't yet.)
Dad ended up driving, but I remember looking all over the car for napkins and then finally I think we grabbed a towel off of his golf club bag so he could wipe all the blood off of his face. It wasn't until we were driving past Sam and Sydney Hartley's house that I saw dad get very nervous. The silver bullet (our old 12 passenger van) was waiting at a stop sign with Mom and Bryce in it. (Mom was picking up Bryce from work) Dad had us cover up his face so Mom couldn't see him when we drove by. Dad raced home because he didn't want mom to see. (I'm pretty sure mom knew something was up.) As soon as dad parked in the driveway, he was out the door and racing up the walkway with the towel over his head, mom was coming around the corner. (I've never seen dad move that fast.)
Seth and I were assigned to distract mom until dad could get into the bathroom.
Mom's first words were, "What happened?"
Seth/Sam: uhh.......
Mom: What's going on?
Seth/Sam: uhh...
Mom: Will you just tell me what's going on!
Seth/Sam: uhh...just go look at dad.
Mom had a hard time of convincing dad to finally open the bathroom door, but dad finally did. I believe mom's first words were. "What happened to your face?"
Mom spent the next hour or so digging pellets out of dad's face. There was however one pellet that she just couldn't get. I believe it was in dad's left earlobe. A pellet had found its way inside and stayed there the rest of his life. I know there were times that I was thankful for that remaining pellet, as I am sure there are others in my family who would say the same thing. For after that day, when ever I did something stupid and made dad really mad, all I had to do was grab his earlobe and remind him that he had done stupid things too.
I know there are many different versions of this story. If you would like to add or correct anything that I have written please leave a comment and I'll add or make any necessary changes.
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Sam, I loved it! I wrote the story from my perspective several years ago. I tried to get him to go to the emergency room but he declined. He was very concerned about it affecting his concealed weapon permit application as any gun wound has to be reported to police. He did call Terry Thompson and confirmed that information as well as Aunt Beth to ask advice about treating the wounds on his face. He looked like he'd been stung by bees and had welts all over his face. That evening was a stake activity we all had to attend so we used my makeup to try and cover the damage done on Dad's face. Your dad also swore you to secrecy so when Robert Peterson asked how your dad was you replied: Go ask him yourself.....
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