The Final Montana Musings

Homework

That was an assignment in a “magazine writing class” as part of the journalism school at Marshall University in Huntington, WV. We had to write an article, produce photos for it and actually submit it to a magazine. Mine concerned the cost savings shooters could have by reloading their own revolver ammunition, especially using bullets cast by themselves. Although I wrote the article in 1971 and it was accepted by Guns & Ammo magazine that year, it didn’t actually appear in print until summer of 1972. Regardless it was the first step taken on a path I’ve stubbornly followed to this day.

In the first two years after college graduation, I wrote another half-dozen articles submitted to, and accepted by, several magazines including GUNS. Then I quit. College had been stressful and I was finally free, restless and ready to explore some of our country. I actually crossed the United States from coast to coast a half dozen times, mostly in an old Dodge pickup with a small camper on the back. One year I slept in that pickup for five straight months.

Always I told myself I’d get serious about gun’riting someday. To pay my way in those years, I took such temporary jobs as being a substitute high school teacher, serving on a forest fire crew and driving dump trucks on a road paving crew. My all-time favorite, albeit least paying job, was dude wrangling in Yellowstone National Park.

Then in 1977 something momentous happened. I met Yvonne. She was from Missouri and also working in Yellowstone. As we dated that summer, I told her my plan for a full-time career was to write about guns. I half expected her to flee. At least her folks might lock her away from me if she confided that information to them. Neither happened and we were married on April 1st 1978. (Anyone see irony in it being April Fool’s Day?) At the time, my entire net worth consisted of a few guns, some reloading equipment, a saddle, a huge dog and an unpaid-for pickup truck. It was another Dodge.

One Saturday morning shortly after our nuptials, Yvonne surprised me when she dug out her portable typewriter, set it on the kitchen table and gently indicated it was time for me to get to work. Obviously there was no hope of remaining irresponsible.

Back then it seemed like progress was immeasurably slow but truth was, in 1981 I was able to quit my truck-driving job and dive into gun’riting full-time. A great aid was Yvonne and I were able to purchase our small Montana town’s movie theater. In my mind it’s the second best job anyone could have. Yvonne took care of theater details but we both ran it at night. My mornings were spent writing and afternoons shooting in good weather or reloading for writing projects during poor weather.