I have met a neighbor named John, who was a sniper in the Korean War. I asked him if I could bring over my .357 Magnum and have him show me a thing or two. So one evening last week we walked out to his shooting range, stapled a couple of targets up, and started my lessons.

These are the last two sets I shot, six rounds at 15 yards and six at 25 yards. John said I should take this home and hang it on my front door. He said, “Half the deputies don’t shoot that good.” (He frequently trains county sheriff’s deputies out at his range.)

I don’t think I’m that good a shot. But then, the target was only 45 and then 75 feet away. I said, “Shouldn’t we be further back?” He said this was the range the deputies train with. Hmm, okay.

Mine is a service revolver that spent many years in some state’s Highway Patrol. It has a 6″ barrel and is in pretty good shape. But I don’t know that much about guns. My cousin and I used to plink at cans and ground squirrels (though the only time I actually hit one was with a car, in Yellowstone National Park). He and I once used a .44 to blow the back out of a fencepost in his yard. But that’s about the extent of my experience with firearms.

I learned a lot with John, but that is just the beginning. He’s invited me over anytime for practice and training, and I’ll be back in a few weeks. John does his own reloading and has plenty of ammunition, which he insists on letting me use for practice. He’s eager to train me, and I’m happy to learn. He’s already given me a box of .38 special shells–a blessing when a box like that costs $30 or better, and the local places sell out as soon as their shipments arrive.

Next time he’ll help me sight-in my 30.06.