Craig:
An 'old goat' story for you... even after all these years I still chuckle when I recall the scene.
A shooter at a trap club I used to frequent long ago and far away, had just attended a class for 'home defense firearms instructors' and was eager to show off his new found expertise (what could go wrong?).
The guy was a mountain of a man who wore a belt buckle the size of a hubcap, and a cowboy hat to match. Being of considerable wealth, the hat was obviously quite expensive - a gen-u-ine Stetson.
He had acquired at the class a machined gizmo that consisted of a shell holder and a spring loaded firing pin. A 'zip gun' sans chamber.
The purpose of this gizmo was to fire the primer of a shot shell to demonstrate that small arms ammunition was safe to store in the home because it needs a chamber to build pressure. So far so good. Old Joe claimed to have conducted the demonstration many times and was eager to do so for us - an assembled audience of perhaps 20, some of whom raised objections to the demonstration being conducted right there in the clubhouse at the poker table.
Safety minded as we all are, we adjourned the discussion to the porch where Joe inserted a brand new Federal Champion trap load into his gizmo. Cocked and loaded he mentioned that he should have a container of some sort to catch the shot as it harmlessly fell from the about to be fired shell, apparently so as not to spill shot all over our pretty porch.
Whereupon he grabbed his Stetson off his head, held it under the shell, called 'Pull' for effect, and tripped the firing pin.
The demonstration was a success... sort of. At the primer firing, a small cloud of that perfumed Federal smoke went up, and as promised the shot and wad fell into Joe's hat. However, so did a rather considerable amount of ignited powder and Joe was now holding a burning $400 hat.
Joe then did a very interesting dance, swinging the burning hat around attempting to extinguish the flames. A man that size needs room to do such work, so we gave Joe and his flaming hat a wide berth.
That day alone was worth the many years of dues I paid at that club!
