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As I walk through my basement, I come across a giant green gun safe that stands five foot one inch tall and is located under the staircase. This safe is secured by a combination lock and also a key lock, so it is difficult to open and is also fireproof. Inside, I find can up to twenty-four guns, ranging from shotguns, rifles, pistols, and muzzle loaders. The object that has the most significance, however, is a Winchester rifle. It came over to the United States when my Great-grandfather Kucinski came from Czechoslovakia, around 1830. This gun is passed to the first male grandchild from each generation. I am thankful that I inherited this gun, even though I never had the opportunity to meet my grandpa because he died three years prior to my birth.

I reach for the Winchester rifle, and when I examine it I can tell it is old because it is worn and rough, but still in good enough condition to fire or to be a collector’s item. The gun is well maintained. It is a lever action, brown, with a wooden stock. It has a hexagonal shaped barrel which extends two foot in length. On top of the barrel it has a buck horn site which is found closest to the butt of the gun (stock) which can be adjusted by moving it up and down. Towards the top of the barrel there is a front single spade site that is adjusted left to right. Under the barrel is the shell magazine which holds fourteen 44-40 caliber shells (200 grain soft point), and as I look down the barrel I can actually see the spiral rings (twists) that are formed when the gun is fired.

In order to fire the Winchester, I must first rack a shell into the chamber. Next, I raise the gun to my shoulder, embracing it tightly. Then, I squeeze the trigger to set it off at whatever I am shooting at. When I was twelve, my dad and uncles took me to our property where we shot at targets ranging from paper to cans. The experience of shooting it for the first time was very vivid. I didn't have the butt of the gun properly snug to my shoulder, and suddenly I received a poke, which nearly knocked me off my feet. My shoulder was very sore for a few days because it gave me a decent size bruise. When the gun was fired, it sounded like a bomb exploding, causing my ears to ring like church bells. I can still remember the smell of burning sulfur, which I adapted to quickly.

I was so happy that I had the opportunity to shoot great-grandpa’s gun, and I will always remember killing my first deer with it when I was twelve years old. It made me reflect and realize how my Great-grandfather Kucinski had to rely on this gun on a regular basis, because killing and catching wildlife was his family's source of food. Since that fall afternoon day I've not shot it. I cleaned it and put it back into the gun safe. Ever since then I have been fascinated by guns and enjoy shooting and collecting them.

In my family it is a tradition to hunt as a source of food or as a hobby, and it will always be part of my life. I intend to continue to hunt and plan on passing the Winchester rifle on to the next Kucinski generation, hoping whoever receives it will share some of the same memories I have experienced.