(no subject)
My grandmother died a few weeks ago. She was 91, and her health had been going downhill rapidly for the past year or so (pneumonia, some sort of bone cancer, various infections, etc.), so while it wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, it didn't exactly come as a surprise when it happened (like my uncle who died of a heart attack while on business in Taiwan a few years ago). Anyway, visitation and funeral were late March, and of course the big topic on everyone's mind was Grandma Marie. As a result I learned a lot of things I hadn't known about Grandma, like how she'd traveled to Venice, or that she was First Generation American (her parents had emigrated from Germany). I learned some family stuff, like why nobody seems to like Uncle Tom (I thought it was because he was a socially-awkward ass-hat, but there's more to it than that). But my favorite story came out of an off-hand remark Mom made when she was talking about cleaning out Grandma's house, and what they might find.
So, back in the day (1939 according to the website), my grandfather started his own company, which over time became fairly prosperous. So prosperous that apparently dealing with workers' unions became an issue. Unfortunately, these dealings were not always of a pleasant nature, and there were threats on Grandpa's life (I didn't find out if he was pro-union, anti-union, or what). Understandably, as a result of all this, Grandpa developed a fairly hefty case of paranoia (or maybe he already had it and this gave him an excuse). In any case, Grandpa decided the best way to protect himself, his home, and his family was to purchase a large number of guns and hide them all around the house, loaded, ready, and in easy reach (I have early memories of crawling around under the dining room table, looking up and seeing a .357 Magnum clamped in a hidden holder near Grandpa's chair). This is instead of, you know, buying one gun and keeping it on himself at all times.
So Grandpa dies around 1988, and Grandma decides she doesn't want to be tripping over loaded guns whenever she does the spring cleaning. So she and the kids get together and have a sort of Easter gun hunt. Now, they have a number that they're looking for: 63 (Think about that # for a second. That's more than some police departments or street gangs... It also would have made my grandparents' house the safest place in the event of a zombie invasion.). But while they have a total #, they don't exactly have a detailed list of hiding places; apparently only Grandpa knew where they all were, and God only knows if he actually managed to remember where they all were (I can barely remember where my keys are).
So final results of Gun Hunt: 62. They divied up the firearms and called it a day, just kind of assuming that last one would turn up. It didn't.
Fast forward to 2009. Grandma passed away 21 years after Grandpa. Now they're hoping to find that last gun as they clear out the house. Which means that a loaded gun has remained untouched and unseen, for 21 years. It boggles my mind. How do you just lose a gun? It's not your keys, your cell phone. It is, in fact, pretty much the thing you most want to keep track of, if only so one of your kids (or grandkids... or in Grandma's case, great-grandkids) doesn't shoot their fool head off. Also, keep in mind that these weren't exactly kept locked in the gun safe; these were hidden, yes, but still within easy reach (like the one under the table).
Anyway, I'm hoping for something really off the wall, something that'll make people say, "How the hell did we miss this? And why the hell did Grandpa have it?" Maybe a tommy-gun behind a couch in the basement, or a pistol-grip sawed-off behind the office desk.