“History can be well written only in a free country.”

(Quote attributed to Voltaire.)

A while back, there was a meme going around the gun blogs, asking “Why do you carry?” Answers to that generally fell into a couple of categories: “to protect myself/my family”, “because I can”, “because f–k you, that’s why”.

A kind of related question that I haven’t seen talked about is “why do you own guns in the first place?” Many of the answers are the same: self defense, because we don’t like people telling us what we can and can’t do, and so on. But one answer I haven’t really seen people talk much about is “history”.

Since I got back from the S&W Collector’s Association convention in Boise, I’ve been thinking about history and guns, both together and separate. There were a lot of intersections in Boise with areas of my own personal history, and there are some other things are just simply curious or interesting.

I believe an argument can be made that weapons are actually one of the cheapest ways to establish a connection to history for the common man. You can collect cars, for example, but it takes a millionaire’s pocket to collect anything historically significant. If you’re lucky, you might see a vintage warbird at an air show two or three times a year, but good luck touching one, let alone sitting in the cockpit. And flying one, again, requires a millionaire’s budget.

But I think there’s more going on than just the money element.

This is the first Smith and Wesson in my life. It wasn’t, and isn’t mine; it belonged to my father, and hung in his gun cabinet in that holster (a George Lawrence: it has 120 and 505 printed on the back, if that means anything to holster folks) for years. There isn’t anything collectable or rare about this gun, as far as I know; I’m still researching the history of it. It hasn’t been shot, as far as I know, in 20+ years. But it is significant to me because it was my dad’s gun. It belongs to my mother now, and is in her gun safe, with my father’s and my stepfather’s other guns. There’s a family story behind this gun that I won’t tell (it might embarrass some one) but that just adds to the connection with my own family history I feel when I do pick up this gun.

I was talking with a friend of my mother’s yesterday, and she mentioned a Stevens .22 rifle she has, with an octagon barrel. It belonged to her dad, and she remembers following him through the woods while he was carrying it. After an unfortunate series of events, it wound up with her again. And she’s happy about that; as she told me, it is one of the few things she has left of her dad’s.

This was a Holy Grail gun for me. Smith and Wesson, for a long time, made revolvers on what they called their “K” frame (“K” refers to the size.) They chambered these guns in .22 LR, .32 S&W Long, and .38 Special cartridges, and made them as close to identical in size and weight as possible. Say you were a beat cop: your issue gun might be a K frame chambered in .38 Special. You could have a K frame gun chambered in .22 LR that was identical in form, feel and function to your issue gun, and practice with cheap .22 LR ammo, saving your .38 Special ammo for when you needed it. The K-series guns were also supremely accurate, and the .38 Special and .22 LR variants sold very well for S&W. (The .32 S&W Long sold less well; those guns command a high premium today because so few of them were made.)

My K-22s, let me show you them.
Bottom: K-22 Combat Masterpiece, 4″, circa 1952.
Middle: Model 17 (sometimes called the “K-22 Masterpiece”), no dash, 6″, circa 1959.
Top: Model 17-4, 8 3/8″, circa 1980.

I’d had the 6″ (first K-22 I bought) and the 8 3/8″ for a while, but the 4″ K-22 is scarce as hen’s teeth around here. I finally made a deal with a gentleman in Boise and called it a graduation present for myself. I now have K-22s and K-38s in all the common barrel lengths: 4″, 6″, and 8 3/8″. As far as I know, they didn’t make K-22s in any other lengths (except as one-off guns, but I can’t talk about that). There was a run of 5″ K-38s made for (if I remember correctly) the Kansas City Police Department, and it would be nice to have one of those. It would also be nice to have a matched set of K-32 series guns, but that will have to wait until I hit the lottery.

This photo didn’t come out quite as well as I would have liked; I cleaned it up a bit.

Through a series of events (which again, I can’t really discuss) and thanks to Jim Supica of the National Firearms Museum, I got to handle this gun (very carefully, wearing white cotton gloves) while I was in Boise.

The brass sideplate may be a clue for some of you. For the rest, this is Ed McGivern’s gun. Actually, he had many guns. But this is what I guess you could call THE McGivern gun. The inscription on the sideplate reads as follows:

1932 McGIVERN MODEL / 38-44 S&W / 2 GROUPS OF FIVE / SHOTS EACH AT 20 FEET / TIME 9/20 SECOND EACH GROUP / FIRED AUG 20TH 1932 / AT LEAD, SO. DAKOTA RIFLE / CLUB BY / ED McGIVERN / EACH GROUP ENTIRELY / COVERED BY HALF DOLLAR

That was a world record at the time. If Wikipedia is to be believed, it still is. There’s also a better photo and longer writeup about this gun on the Museum’s site.

I already had a copy of Fast and Fancy Revolver Shooting, so I was familiar with Mr. McGivern. (And, of course, a very thinly disguised version of him is a character in Pale Horse Coming.) I have trouble finding the words to describe how holding this gun made me feel. I know I felt chills.

I’ve written before about the gun writers I grew up with and the kids of today. Elmer Keith passed away a long damn time ago, but I got to shake his son’s hand. (His son is a darn nice guy. And it made me feel a little strange when I realized he was as old as my father would have been today.) I got to shake John Taffin’s hand and thank him for his work, too.

This is another recent acquisition (and one I got a very good deal on). I’m still researching this gun as well, but from what I can tell it is a Smith and Wesson Military and Police (what is now known as a Model 10). I think, looking at the serial number and other information, that this was produced not long after the end of WWII. I’m guessing prior to 1948, since it has an S serial number prefix instead of a C. (Per Jink’s History, that transition took place in 1948.) I haven’t done anything to this gun; I bought it exactly as you see here.

I can’t prove it, and probably never will be able to, but I have it in my head that this belonged to some older police detective (who probably carried it as his primary sidearm; it predates the introduction of the Chief’s Special) or some beat cop who carried it as a backup gun. It has the feeling of having been modified specifically for the owner’s preferences as a working gun: note in particular the grip adapter. I think, but can’t prove yet, that it shipped in the “round butt” configuration from the factory. (With that in place, the gun fills my hand quite well. I have not fired it yet, but we’re planning a “shoot and chew” for next weekend; I think this gun will have some light .38 Special loads put through it.)

The gun has honorable wear on it. I may be totally inventing the whole police connection, but it doesn’t feel like I am. It feels like it was well used by somebody who relied on it. It has a feeling to it like the other Smiths I’ve mentioned; that feeling of having a direct connection to history.

One day, my nephews will probably inherit my guns. I hope they feel the same way about them as I feel about these guns.

“There is much tradition and mystique in the bequest of personal weapons to a surviving comrade in arms. It has to do with a continuation of values past individual mortality.
People living in a time made safe for them by others may find this difficult to understand.”
–Thomas Harris, Hannibal

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