The attached letter was sent to me by my niece Jeanette, an ex-marine [and always
a marine], who was
introduced to shooting and hunting at an early age by our family. She
went into the Marine Corps probably because other family members before her
were Marines.
She's in her twenty's [30~] now but she remembers the stories of and
experiences with
family while hunting, fishing and target shooting. The following story that
she
writes about happened at the Walden Sportsmen's Club Rifle Range where my
father,
brother and I were members at the time. The reason that she's writing this
memorable story today is because my brother's (Quindo) birthday is October
19th. He would
have been 56 years young - but he passed on to better hunting and fishing
grounds
two years ago. He loved to hunt, fish and target shoot - and he loved the
Walden
Sportsmen Club and its members. His life was cut short by bladder cancer that
spread
throughout his system. How he contracted bladder cancer is anyone's guess. He
was
exposed to agent orange while serving in Viet Nam in 1968. He was also exposed
to
various exotic and dangerous
chemicals while working in the semiconductor industry. He was also exposed to
all
of the chemicals in our environment, food and other products that we are all
exposed
to every day of our lives. My brother was always there for people, even
strangers.
If they needed help of any kind - he helped. In many ways he took after our father
and uncles
who
did the same by practicing the "good neighbor policy."
Jeanette's Story is as follows - I hope that you'll all enjoy it and share it
with others if you like.
_______________________________________________
Subject: "I'll Never Forget" -- by Jeanette Johnson October, 2001
To my family,
"I have a story I would like to share with you all. Today I
went to the firing range to qualify with the S & W 357 Mag, it's
so I can be certified for my job. Well I got on the range this
morning and we fired a practice course. I was a little nervous
at first, because it has been so long since I have fired a
weapon. I wanted Expert real bad. It's this thing I have when
it comes to qualifying at anything, I don't accept anything less
than the top, and we all know that when shooting and qualifying
with weapons there are 3 levels, Marksman, Sharpshooter, and
Expert."
"After I finished the practice course, it was time to fire for
the score. As I was standing there, looking down range a smile
came across my face and this memory was in my mind. It was
probably about 15 years ago I went to New York with Nanny and
PopPop to visit, well Unc. Q took me to the firing range at this
club he belonged to, it was the first time I had ever fired a
weapon. He began teaching me how to shoot. Later that
afternoon, PopPop had brought his rifle and joined us. After we
had fired off our rounds Unc. Q and I went down range to look at
my target, needless to say there were maybe 1 or 2 shots that
actually hit the target. Unc. Q says to me, "do you want to see Pop
Pop get really mad"? and he took his pencil and made holes in
the target all in the bull's eye, so it looked like I had shot a
perfect score. Then he called Pop Pop down range and said "Dad
she's a better shot than you, look at that target", well Pop Pop
was so mad he knew it couldn't be, he starting yelling and
hollering 'Oh bull *%$# Quindo she doesn't need to be out here.'
Unc. Q and I started laughing so hard."
"It was getting late and time to go back to the house, so we
started packing up and before we left, he looked at me and said
'someday you will be that expert shot.'"
"So today, when I was up on the firing line and I thought about this
memory I looked up to the sky and I said 'this is for you for
Unc Q', and with his presence blessing me all day, I shot
Expert."
"Happy Birthday Unc. Q, I miss you, there is not a day that
goes by that I do not think about you. I know that he and Nanny
are in heaven crocheting a blanket that keeps each of us warm
and covered with love everyday, until we join them."
"Tomorrow is Unc. Q's birthday [10/19/05] and I thought that maybe each
of us could remember a time we have shared with him, and share
it with someone, I know that my 13 other
classmates were touched
by the kind of man he was.
They enjoyed my story very much.
His sense of humor, his kindness and the love he had for his
family are missed dearly everyday."
"I hope that I have brought a smile to each one of you,
because I know that Unc. Q would have had nothing less." My Brother Quindo L. Carbone
With love,
Jeanette
__________________________________________
PS - my brother Quindo was named after our Uncle Quindo Gerome (my
Mother's Brother) who, while serving in WWII, perished along with his
B-24 crew when his bomber collided with another bomber. Another bomber was hit by enemy fire
and that caused a collision. His remains were never returned to the
US. But He's been resting in a sacred, peaceful place - covered by white
crosses as far as the eye can see - in Cambridge, England along with many
other American Soldiers who never made it back home and to US soil - but he
will still live on in our hearts and minds forever.
__________________________________________
There are many things that we can all learn from my beautiful niece Jeanette's
story. 1) Young children - boys or girls - are very impressionable. 2)
Children who
are taught at an early age to safely handle and respect firearms, wildlife and
nature, grow-up to be very responsible adults. 3) Take care of and protect
yourself
and your family from harm both visible and invisible and don't be afraid to
speak-up
about polluters of our environment. 4) Take someone fishing, hunting or target
shooting. 5) Teach and show them that guns are safe when handled and used
properly
and responsibly. 6) Share your hunting and fishing stories with family and
children
even if they're too young to hold a gun or a fishing pole - they will be
intrigued by the
stories and they too will never forget.
PS - I hope that everyone enjoys a safe and successful hunting season. As we
all
know it's not about the kill or filling our game bags or filling out the
paper work of our
buck tags.
