In 1965 0r 1966 I bought a used Browning A-5 20 gauge. It had 26 inch vent rib barrel, the stock and fore end were walnut with a lot of contrast and a high gloss finish. To me it was beautiful.
Over the next 25 years I used it for nearly all of my hunting. I usually hunted quail but I also used it for deer, pheasants, doves, and rabbits.
Some time over the years the rib cracked where the center sight was and the bead was lost. My daughter Dana’s dog chewed on the stock. The bluing was wearing thin and you could see where my thumb rested on one side and my trigger finger on the other.
My son Ryan would watch me clean the Browning. He knew from a young age that one day it would become his. He would hold it and we would talk about guns and gun safety.
About 1991 I bought a 20 gauge Benelli. It was not as pretty as the Browning but it was lighter. I took the Browning along on most trips for a back-up gun in case the Benelli or someone else’s gun broke.
Ryan and I had hunted the Friday and Saturday of the last week end of the deer season in 1996. We got home late Saturday evening. After sitting around for a while I thought about getting the guns out of the truck. I had the Benelli, a 7mm Mauser and the Browning behind the seat. I was tired and thought I would get them out the next morning and clean them.
On the morning of November 27, 1996 when I went to get my guns from the truck I found they had already been removed. Whoever stole them made a hole in the door just above the lock and popped it out.
While I waited for the Jackson County Sherriff’s Patrol to come out to make a report, I had a lot of emotions raging. I regretted not going out the night before, someone had violated my space and a great deal of anger at a thief. As I waited I was drinking a cup of coffee and not realizing I was tensed up I pulled the handle off the coffee cup.
Over the next few weeks Ryan and I checked almost all of the pawn shops in the area. Over the years when we went to gun shows we looked for all of the guns but mainly the Browning.
In September, on Friday the thirteenth, 2013 I decided to shoot some skeet. One of the guys I shoot with still has a job and another was having some health issues but most of the time there is someone there to shoot with, but not this day.
Missouri Conservation Department has a trap/skeet and rifle range only about 2 miles from my home. Most of the people who work there are volunteers.
When I arrived, Al Dobyns, a retired firefighter from Kansas City, Missouri, a friend of mine and a volunteer for the Conservation Department was there. No one was shooting so Al and I were sitting in the shade talking when 2 men came to shoot.
Al went out to see if they wanted to shoot skeet or trap. When he came back he said they were going to shoot some skeet but not a regular round. They had taken a class at the range but they had not shot before. They were only going to shoot 1 round each. I decided to wait for someone I knew to show up.
Al and I were solving the worlds problems as the two men were shooting. One of the guys shot while the other used the control to throw the targets. After the first guy shot the second man picked up his gun to shoot. Al said, “is that a Browning or an old Remington?” I said, “I believe that’s a Browning.”
We often try to figure out what kind of gun someone is shooting but we usually don’t even go see if we are right. For some reason Al and I walked out and I asked if I could see his gun.
He said sure and handed it to me. It was a Browning. As I was looking at it I noticed the rib was broken where a center sight had been. I blurted out, “this is a stolen gun and it belongs to me.”
Normally this is not a statement that will endear you to total strangers but these two men were real gentlemen. I wrote the serial number down and told them I was going home to check my records. The man in possession of the gun gave me his name and phone number in case I didn’t return soon.
When I checked the list the number was there. That was my gun that had been stolen 17 years earlier. I may have driven faster than the law allows returning to the range.
Chuck Taylor (not his real name) and his brother were still shooting. I showed them the list with that gun and serial number on it. They could tell that the list was an old one, not one I just made up.
Chuck said that his brother-in-law, that lived in Warsaw, Missouri had had a stroke and was in the North Kansas City Hospital. Chuck was afraid that he would harm himself when he returned home. He had gone to his home and picked up several guns. They were rusty so he had cleaned them. He wanted to see if the Browning worked.
Judy Farnsworth who works for the Missouri Conservation Department at the range called the Jackson County Sherriff’s Department. While we waited Chuck asked if I would like to shoot it. Of course. I broke a high house and a low house from station four. It still shot good. I thought Ryan was at work so I sent him a text to tell him I found the Browning. My phone rang immediately. He said he was not working and he would be there in ten minutes. He was there before the deputy. Deputy Kevin Souder took our information. As we were waiting, we heard his radio say, “the gun was reported stolen from Robert Jones.” Chuck’s brother said, “that answers all of our questions.” The Sheriff’s Patrol took the gun and I had to reimburse the insurance company what they had paid me in 1996. One month and one day later I got my gun back.
Someone had refinished the stock and fore end. They had sanded out the dogs teeth marks in the stock, the checkering on the fore end was almost sanded away, and the finish was now dull. But I had my Browning back.
As a father and grandfather I know how happy I am when I make either one of my children or grandchildren (or all) happy. I can not help but think that on September 13,2013, God was looking down with a big smile on his face.
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It’s nice to see the old gun home again, where it belongs.
You have got to be the luckiest guy in the whole world. Glad you got your gun back.
Its a great story to tell people! Im glad you finally got your gun back.
Great story, Rob. So glad you got your gun back after all those years! I enjoyed the story you told.