A True Story About a Hair Trigger Rifle

Jim Smith, a 77-year-old retiree of Oroville, California, recalls growing up during the 40’s in Pleasanton, a small California town where nothing much happened, but if it did, everyone heard about it. Jim says that at age fourteen he had a frightening experience that had the town buzzing and left an imprint on his brain forever.
After borrowing a 22 rifle and being warned about its hair-trigger, he had begged his father to let him go target shooting with some friends the next day. They would only be going to the Sewer Farm, he said. The Sewer Farm, a stinky place abounding with tall weeds and mud hens, beckoned to a boy looking for some fun on a summer day.
Jim says his father explained the dangers of inexperienced and unsupervised shooting and refused to let him go, so he went on to bed. He fretted about how to tell the boys because his family, like many others, didn’t have a phone.
The next morning after his father left for work, Jim eased the screen door open and crept onto the big front porch with the borrowed rifle at his side. Knowing his mother was busy canning tomatoes he decided to go to the Sewer Farm and be back before she missed him. She was used to him spending hours in the fields behind the house and playing ball at the Elementary School across the street. Some days he wouldn’t come home until he was hungry.
He scampered down to the main road, pausing once to look back. Good. All was quiet in the two-story house on the hill. His mother hadn’t seen him. Continuing on his way, he spotted the 1932 Chevrolet flatbed pickup at the foot of the hill with all his friends stuffed inside. Jim says his heart fluttered with excitement. He handed the rifle to Ben, climbed into the flatbed, and the pickup started down the country road.
In a few minutes, the Chevrolet pulled over and parked next to the Sewer Farm. The boys jumped from the flatbed to the ground, Ben still holding the rifle.
Hearing a loud gunshot close to his ear, Jim says he turned around, ready to yell at Ben for shooting the rifle so close to everyone, then he saw blood shooting out of his own mouth. In one horrifying moment, he realized he had been shot in the head.
The boys turned in unison and stared at Jim, their mouths open. Steve shouted that Jim had been shot and another boy reported that blood was shooting out Jim’s neck.
Dazed, Jim heard Ben wail, “I didn’t even have my finger on the trigger. It went off all by itself when I jumped down!”
Steve ordered, “Get back in the truck. We’ve got to get him to the doctor!”
With shrieks, moans, and scared faces, the boys quickly climbed back into the flatbed, and Ben helped Jim into the cab of the truck. Steve made a screeching U-turn and the pickup sped back down Main Street.
Ben plugged his finger into the hole in Jim’s neck, but the blood spilled out of Jim’s mouth, onto the floor and seat.
“It keeps coming!” Ben screamed.
Fear gripped Jim as he choked on his own blood and shook uncontrollably Thinking he might die, he looked at Steve and gasped, “Tell my Mom.”
“I will,” Steve promised. In a few minutes the pickup skidded to a stop in front of the doctor’s office. Jim says his family and Steve filled him in later on what happened next. After the boys lifted Jim out of the car, Steve raced back to the Smith house on the hill. He bounded up the porch steps and shouted through the screen door, at Jim’s sister, “Jim got shot in the head!”
Jim’s mother raced from the kitchen, her face stricken with horror. “Is he dead?” she shrieked.
Steve said, “He’s still alive. Come on. I’ll take you to the doctor’s office.”
Jim’s mother ran down the porch steps behind Steve and attempted to jump into the pickup. Before she had completely seated herself, Steve, in his haste, prematurely started the engine, causing her to lose her balance. Slipping on the bloody seat prevented her from catching herself and she fell to the ground. In a heartbeat though, she sprang to her feet and heaved herself back into the front seat, slamming the door behind her.
Jim’s sister, her eyes wide, watched the unbelievable scene from the porch and screamed, “Mama!”
Back at the doctor’s office, Jim saw his mother rush in, looking like she had been rolled in blood and tomato juice and peppered with dirt. When the doctor put his hand on her shoulder and assured her that he would be all right, Jim felt immense relief. Up to that moment, he had his doubts.
Today, many years later, having faint scars on his cheek and neck to prove the accident really happened, Jim looks back on this horrible day and marvels that he survived being shot in the head without having any lasting complications and able to raise a family.
How was Jim able to survive? He says the bullet entered his neck under the jawbone, nicked his tongue, and lodged in the opposite cheek. Weeks after the accident, Jim complained of a knot in his jaw. X-rays revealed a tooth that had been knocked on its side during the accident. The removal of the tooth marked the end of a terrible but miraculous event.
Is there a moral to this story? Jim says, “You bet there is. First, you need training before handling any gun. Second, if your gun has a hair-trigger, think twice before using it. Third, carry your gun with the barrel pointed toward the ground, away from people. Fourth, listen to those who know more than you do. I wish I had listened to my dad."
Jim chuckles. “One good thing came out of it though. I get to see the expressions on my grandchildren’s faces when I tell them my story.”