Ok so this morning my oldest and I got up at the crack of dawn, he's been asking me to take him fishing since spring, and last night I finally got him his own pole and I renewed my license. Went out to vancouver lake and spent the morning on the shore... We didn't have a single nibble... not one and we got there at 7 and where there until almost 11.... Next time I'm taking some "southern fishing equipment" when I go
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So we get back to my house around 1130 and as my boy and I are unloading our stuff I thought I herd some one say something.... looked around didn't see nothing grabbed my backpack and heard "excuse me mister but can you please help me?"
I looked around still couldn't see nothing shut my door and standing down on the street just around the fence out of my field of view was a kid, idk, 14/15 somewhere in that ballpark, next to him on the ground was his bike the foot petal thingy(no I don't ride or own a bike so IDK what the heck its called) was laying on the ground.
"Mister I think I broke my bike, can you please help me fix it?" It was written all over his face that he was on the verge of crying.
I told him that I would be right back I had to run into my house and drop off my stuff and grab some tools and that I would be right back. Ran inside dropped off my gear and turned on the tv for hunter for a minute grabbed my tool kit and went back outside.
Walked over and took a look at the bike and realized there was a bolt that was ment to hold the petal thingy in place and it was missing... I looked up to ask if he sees it and we look for it... Cant find it but after about 30 seconds of looking I realize that he's looking more at me than he is the ground. I realized when be had spoken to me that he was a "special needs" child but we was fairly "normal" I guess you could say. Told him I may have some parts that may work and run into my garage and grabbed a bucket full of nuts and bolts I've been saving.
As I am walking out of my garage I realize he's staring at me and looks slightly scared shitless, I kneeled down next to his bike, and started going through the bucket trying to find one the right size and assured him I had one someplace. this is the conversation best I can remember the words, bout thirty seconds of quiet and:
"Are you a cop?"
"Nope, Im not, I work for the garbage company that makes sure the city stays clean, why do you ask?"
"You have a gun, mom says only police officers and bad guys carry guns"
Mental thought to myself was shit, 1911 is on my hip, and this kids probably never even seen a gun before other than on the tv.
"Well your mom is kind of right, police officers do carry guns and sometimes bad guys carry guns, but there are a lot of people who aren't cops or bad guys that carry guns too, like me and my friends."
"How do I know YOUR not a bad guy?"
"Well I guess you don't do you, but now I have a question for you."
"Ok."
"If I was a bad guy, would a bad guy fix a good guys bike?"
"I guess not."
"No, I don't think he would either."
Finally the right bolt!
"Why do you carry a gun?"
"I carry my gun to protect my family, they are the most important thing in the world to me, and I would do absolutely anything and everything I could do to protect them, no matter what."
He just smiled at me as I tightened the nut down.
"There you go bud, all fixed up and ready to go."
"Thank you mister, you are a good guy"
and he gave me a hug. and got on his bike, and rode off down the road waving and yelling out
"Good as new!"
It was the oddest yet coolest conversations I've ever had with someone regarding firearms. I still cant help but grin over it, I will always help a stranger if I can, but it was a heck of a lot more gratifying today for some reason...
That is all