It was one Christmas in the middle 1950s. True to a common Christmas inclination toward extravagance, I got the idea that I wanted my father to have a deer rifle. To today’s hunters, this would not seem unusual. But in those days, virtually all deer were taken with shotguns and buckshot hereabouts. East Mississippi deer were shot flying through the pines and hardwoods ahead of very fast hounds. Shooting running deer with a rifle was laughable.

My dad and I had hunted together for deer for years and only knew one man who hunted deer with a rifle, James Flanagan of Meridian. When we rode into the woods in Flanagan’s Jeep, we viewed that model 94 Winchester 30-30 with curiosity and a little envy.

James was building tiny houses, that he called boxes, elevating them on poles and taking undisturbed deer at long range with his Winchester. This brought on hushed discussion among the hunters I knew, mostly criticism and even disbelief. I was always reading the outdoor writers from other parts of the country, and they said deer rifles would work fine on running deer and were, of course, a necessity for long range shooting – deer too distant for our 50-yard shotguns.

So I boldly asked my mother if there was any way we could get together the money for a rifle for Daddy for Christmas. “How much would one cost,” asked Miss Bertha? I was ready with a quote from the Sears Roebuck catalog. Savage made a little bolt action 30-30 for just more than $40. We both knew that was a lot to spend on a gift, but she sensed how badly I wanted him to have a rifle. She knew too that he had always used a .22 rifle for hunting, having fed us for years on rabbits, squirrels and frogs. He had never owned a shotgun until he started deer hunting. She said she would start saving her sewing money, but couldn’t guarantee there would be enough.

I was excited the day she said I could order the rifle. I filled out the order form for the Savage Model 340 bolt action, making certain to write in “30-30” on the form, carefully choosing that deer caliber over the .22 Hornet cartridge for which the 340 was also chambered.

Finally, the package arrived. When I unwrapped the box, I was shocked. There before my eyes was a shiny new Model 94 Winchester. “They sent the wrong rifle,” I told Mama, “This rifle costs over $60!” I dreaded sending it back. Then I read the shipping paper in the box. Sears sent the rifle because they were out of the Model 340 Savage. There it was in black and white! As was their practice in those days, Sears provided the next highest priced item than the one ordered if they were out of the original order. Daddy would get the classic Winchester lever action; the one most seen in the movies carried by famous cowboys.

I could hardly wait until Christmas morning. When Daddy unwrapped the rifle I was ready with my camera. He ran a finger along the dark, blued barrel and the smooth walnut stock. I snapped a picture as he lifted the little Winchester to his shoulder and sighted. The little saddle gun was a perfect fit for the slightly built man. It was then that I saw the tears running down his cheeks. I have never seen a Christmas gift more appreciated.

Daddy took that rifle to Kemper County with us that night. The very next day he climbed a tree and shot a buck with it. “Mr. Shorty,” as he was affectionately called, and his little Winchester were inseparable for the rest of his hunting life…..

(There is more to this happy story which is found on page 23 in Barham’s book, “Here Where We Belong.” Call Barham for copies of his book at 601-482-4440.)