I'll begin. Let me start by saying that I fully recognize the gross negligence of my actions, and should (and most certainly do) thank my lucky stars that no one was hurt. It was a valuable lesson, and now years later, confess I still do feel awful about it, although these days I am a bit more prone to snicker about it --but only because I was very lucky. It could have ended tragically. So, I'm not looking for a lesson in handgun safety. I've donned my lava suit and freely admit my stupidity, so please, save the hatred, but after thinking about another post, thought I'd share this and see if anyone else has a story they're willing to tell.

It was my first revolver, a S&W stainless M 66 in .357 mag. I loved it, and took it to the range and elsewhere to shoot as often as I could. One day, I had trouble hitting the target. This was unusual, as I had become confortable with it, and usually shot it fairly well. Problem was that this day I was shooting low and left, consistently. Anyway, displeased, I went home and had it nagging at me. I don't recall anymore if I spoke on the phone with a shooting bud or read about it on the web, but I got it into my head that it was not a problem of mechanical nature, but rather that it was something in my technique that had changed.

So, after dinner (I was living with my then girlfriend at the time, who was of Mexican descent and a newly minted attorney) I began thinking that I'd spend some time dry-firing it to see if I was pulling the shot, both SA and DA. Naturally, I checked very carefully to ensure that it was empty, and proceeded to dry-fire away at a stain on a brick in the heavy fireplace we had in the LR. Having been unable to determine if that was the problem, I continued for about a half hour, controlling my breathing and paying close attention to my squeeze, stance, etc. Still, I could find nothing definitive about my technique that would readily explain the problem, and began getting a bit frustrated. I ended up putting the revolver away and flipping on the tube.

At some point (probably during a commercial), I began obsessing again about my shooting, so back out comes the thing, and after another careful unload and inspection, I'm off to the races again. This went on and on, but to try to facilitate my analysis of the problem, decided I needed a more specific target to concentrate on. Coincidentally, one of my GF's favorite possessions was conveniently displayed in the fireplace...It was a very old, very intricately hand-carved wax ballet dancer type thing, weighing maybe 5-7 pounds. As it was late and she was already upstairs in bed, I figured there'd be no harm in aiming at this thing the dancer had around her chest, some sort of small, one inch medallion on a small chain.

Long story shorter, at some point I got sleepy and decided to head back up to bed, and loaded up the thing, as it was at the time my bedroom persuader (for intruders, not the GF ) . I then went to get a drink of water or somesuch, and sat back down on the couch to smoke a last butt before retiring.

Well, what did I do then before walking upstairs but pick the old girl one last time to run just a dozen more practice dry-fires through her, as she was sitting there next to the holster, all safe and unloaded. I checked. Didn't I?

I took careful aim, and proceeded to carefullly pull the trig...BAM! I about had a heart attack, and with a sickening realization remembered that I had just reloaded the thing before getting my drink of water.

The girl came down the stairs screaming, only to find me and the living room covered in a greasy white wax. Her precious heirloom was gone from the mid-chest up, and there I stood, murder weapon in hand. After receiving a tongue lashing to make a lesser man cry (and rightly so) I told her to go back upstairs, and told her that I'd clean up (at this point she hadn't yet figured out that I'd assasinated her favorite childhood doll--that initial tirade was kids' stuff compared to what I got later). Anyway, the round had gone right through the dancer's medallion, and hit a brick flush, but not before splattering the dancer's anatomy *everywhere*, including in my hair. I found the 158 grain semi wadcutter sitting in the fireplace, the grooves filled with wax, looking just like it was ready to be loaded, a few minutes later.

I still have that bullet as a testament to my own stupidity and negligence. Thank Heaven to Mergatroid that I observed at least one 'safety' measure, and hadn't chosen a spot on the wall/sheetrock instead, as I was living in a densely populated area of the city then.

So, anybody else feel like sharing? I *know* I'm not the only one here who has displayed a great knack for doing something horribly dumb and potentially dangerous, and got lucky.

Anyway 'twere a lesson I'll keep with me always, if nothing else! I don't do any dryfiring indoors anymore. Ever.

I was testing the function of a new to me rifle once...with live ammo. Big mistake, but I didn't reload way back then, so dummy ammo wasn't easily had. It was a small ring Mauser of undetermined heritage...cock on close style, so the firing pin comes forward and springs the bolt back when opening an unfired bolt. The firing pin also was a bit too long...just enough to dimple primers...

...and you guys see it coming. One time it came out just a bit too hard and detonated the primer with the cartridge half extracted. .308 Win...bullet lodged in the breech, powder and brass frags everywhere, ears ringing, the works.

Lessons learned...luckily not too hard in my case.

Pardon me for ! I'm certainly glad there were no serious injuries, and probably your GF's wrath made you a bit less introspective about your act of "Murder on the Mantle"...so to speak. Excuse me but...

Well now, I never did anything so lame myself, except for the time I blew a hole in the floor of a '60 Fairlane 500. It's a long story I won't bother you with, but in retrospect, and considering that it was only a Ford, it was a LEARNING experience, and now a bit humorous as well. You never saw a fiberglas repair so fast or creative in your life. Dad didn't find out about it until we were both back from SE Asia for the last time. Still, I left a respectable distance between us for the tellin'.

Sorry for the giggle Kamo as it isn't funny at all. But it reminds me so much of the movie "Breakfast Club" that I couldn't resist a laugh. Glad no one was hurt.

Laugh away, Mike. We both know I'm hardly the only stooge who has learned a lesson the HARD way. I'm simply one of the few who is willing to drag myself to the collisseum to be thrown to the lions for the amusement of others...

I have one bozo story, and two learn from experience stories. The first was when I fired a 7mm mag in a 300 WBY. I now make sure only the shells for my weapon are on the bench when I am firing. The good news was that it didn't kick nearly as bad as normal.

Learning Experience 1. After I bought the same 300 WBY, I tried the breaking procedure of cleaning after every shot. Me figuring of a way to make it simple, I figured I would soak up a bore snake and make a quick run through after every shot. Sounds bright doesn't it? What I didn't take into account was the liquid state of the cleaning fluid would not allow the case to properly grab the chamber wall when the gun fired. It toke a trip to the gunsmith and a new extractor to fix the problem. I'm damn lucky I didn't need a doctor to extract the bolt (from the back of my head). Vanguards are made tough.

Finally, I was walking back from deer hunting with my contender (handgun) swinging at my side. It was dark, and I was in a hurry. I was walking through some taller buck brush when the gun went off. As near as I can guess, the trigger had been depressed first (the Contenders didn't reset the trigger) and then another branch caught on the hammer. I thank God I was not hunting with anyone else, and from the ringing in my ears, I am glad that the only thing that got hurt was my pride.

Old style Browning 78's do not have a transfer bar, and the hammer drops right on the pin. Put a scope on it in low rings, and you have a pinch point made to happen when you are trying to lower the hammer with a live round chambered. Proper muzzle control at all times resulted in a heart attack only, and a renewed promise to be ever vigilant!

Apologies for making light Kamo. I realize that it is a very serious subject. It just reminded me of the scene where the kid explained shhoting the head off a lamp because he couldn't get it to work. The father of a friend was killed pulling a shotgun out of his truck barrel first, so I do know first hand what can happen. I've been very lucky not having any incidents of ad.

I made a gun trade with a friend for a 870 shotgun. He was working an extra job and we made the trade in the parking lot. I didn't want to be seen ejecting all the shells in the parking lot ,so I took the shotgun home loaded.
The next day I took the shotgun out of the gun safe and proceeded to unload it by aiming it at the waterbed, but changed my mind and stepped out the sliding door into the yard, Thank God.
Well I put the butt of the shotgun on my bicep turned it sideway and aimed at the ground. Firts rack of the shotgun, boom, startled with a nasty pain in my bicep from the recoil from the slug round in the shotgun. I questioned whether I had sympatheticly squeezed the triger or if the shotgun was defective. Well I put the shotgun up to my shoulder and made sure my finger was nowhere near the triger, Boom again. I put the shotgun on the ground and stood back wondering how I could of been so stupid to do it again.

I saw a police cruiser driving past my yard and I flagged them down over the fence and told them I was the culprit that was shooting a gun off in the neighborhood. When they saw the shotgun on the ground, the holes in the sod of the yard, the story of how it happened, and the ugly bruise on my bicep they couldn't stop laughing. I escaped with a bruised ego and probably created a story that will last forever in the Sherriffs Office. At least I didn't shoot the waterbed.

A good friend of mine, Bill, was getting married and bought a house. To save on some bills, he invited two friends to live with him until the wedding.

One of the guys noticed that Bill had an old Rem shotgun from his grandfather. He offered to clean it and buy the shotgun if it worked. So one night while everyone else was at work, he loaded a shell, and cycled the action.

The gun discharged, blew a hole is his prize recliner, and went on to just miss a huge picture window and blast a hole in some trim. I got a call that night "Hey Jack, want to go to the lumber yard?"

When I walked in and smelled the gun powder, I couldn't stop laughing. We didn't tell Bill's wife to be until a month later, after we had patched up the hole and covered up the easy chair.

Three stories....one about me and two about an employer (all at a gun shop).

The owner of the shop where I worked took a model 29 in on trade one day very similar to one that he already owned. Always looking to improve the quality of his personal collection, he decided to see if the action on this one was any smoother. BOOM...right across the middle of the store.

The same owner's kid was showing a Colt 1911 to a nice couple buying their first gun and, coincidentally, illustrating the safety features of a 1911. "Yes Sir, this gun is doubly safe because of the grip safety AND the thumb safety", he said. So, the kid drops a Remington shotshell load into the chamber, engages the safety and just as he says "See, look" pulls the trigger to illustate his point. BOOM...peppered the wall. Faulty safety on the Colt. The classic line from the wife across the counter as her ears were undoubtedly ringing was "Did that thing go off?"

My story is just as bad if not worse. The owner of the shop is on the phone to a wholesaler and I can hear him talking as a customer walks in looking for grips that will fit his oddball Spanish made revolver. I am looking at the thing, thinking about what I might want from the wholesaler on the phone, and trying to figure if this piece of crap revolver is a S&W copy or a Colt copy. I figure the quickest way to tell is to see if the cylinder locks up after pulling the trigger and holding it back. All I remember hearing was the owner of the shop on the phone as I did this...."Hello? Davidson's? Yes, this is Bob from Bob's Gun shop..." BOOM ! "...yes, I was wondering if you stocked any..." The guy didn't even miss a beat in his conversation as I was standing there with an undoubtedly stupid look on my face and a smoking .357 in my hand.

Fortunately, none of the above incidents resulted in anything worse than bruised egos but my story got worse when we looked at what I had shot. I had fired the weapon into our repair rack. Some poor guy had waited 6 weeks to get a scope repair done from Burris and had just been called to come pick up his scope literally 10 minutes before my AD. You guessed it, I had to call him back and say "Sir, it's gonna be a little while longer on that scope repair..."

I still cringe when I think what could have happened during any of these incidents but thinking about them sure makes me more cautious!

Best,

JohnTheGreek

This one isn't really about me or my brother directly screwing up but it involves us and it was beyond our control.

Last year while mule deer hunting in Colorado, we were both walking on a hillside and just by chance I decided to move down the hill about 10 yards from him and we were walking parallel. I was previoulsy walking in front of him.

Out of nowhere, his 270 went off and he was carrying it with the barrel downward but in front of him in case we jumped a deer.

Had I still been in front of him, I honestly believe I could have been killed or injured. But I also realize that anytime we walk together, whoever is in lead always has barrel to front, and whoever is in rear always points barrel to the side or shoulders the rifle barrel up.

That is the way we've always done it for safety, but we thought, just by chance it could have been ugly.

What happened was, my brother had a Shilen trigger in his Rem BDL 700 set to 1.5 pounds but the gunsmith had never used a Shilen trigger before and wanted to try one. Turns out it was for a 50 BMG and was not the trigger he ordered.

He said there was something about a screw that was different. My brother sent it back to him and got a Jewell installed for a difference of $130.

His safety was on and we just looked at each other bewildered. I said did you shoot at something? He said HELL NO, THE DAMN THING JUST WENT OFF! I DON'T EVEN HAVE MY FINGER NEAR THE TRIGGER! He didn't move and just held up the rifle and showed me the safety was still on.

Good thing he brought his 300 SAUM. Another reason I try to ALWAYS bring a second rifle.

Ever since the the rifle had the Jewell put in, set to 1 pound, there has not been a problem.

Low and behold, my bro admitted that he had noticed some "more creep" with the Shilen trigger the last time he was at the range but didn't bother to tell me.

quote:

set to 1 pound, there has not been a problem.

There will be Doc. 1# is too light for a big game rifle. Someday...

no it isn't.