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Spellign Bee Champ
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Awesome!
 

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Impressive.
 

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I was spending 6 months in Juvenile Hall when I was 11. :rolleyes:
 

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I was in 6th grade at Markham Park School...playing sports, swings,monkey bars,marbles and all around fun> I wouldn't trade it for anything.:)
 

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Way to go Kiddo!
 

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odd jobbing the neighborhood and trying to figure out the mysteries of life. BB guns and once in a while .22 long rifle, fishing with dad.
this young lady is living the dream. hope she stays as straight as she shoots.
 

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when I was eleven..we practiced weekly....nuclear war drills....at school...we had blast shutters on the side of the school facing Holloman AFB....that each day a student was selected to crank closed from inside .. .the school had been designed and built to be resistant to blast effect of a-bombs...and one wall of the gym/assembly room...was filled from floor to ceiling with survival foods/water/cots/blankets....medical supplies....as the location was a designated fall out shelter

It is still a clear memory of mom filling the bathtub with water, and my brother and I were told to stay out of it....the cans of soup stacked along the dining room wall...as chet huntley and david brinkley.....on the black and white tv....saying it is a critical time...be prepared....1963 cuban missle crisis....as the trains from the north roared though town loaded with military equipment......the roar of jets coming down onto the valley......landing...and others leaving...
 

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We were shooting bb and pellet guns but not like that. Mainly playing baseball and fishing. Small town that was normal 50 years ago
 

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Fishing, hunting, camping out, workin on the farm. We were not bored.
 

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Heck of a shot...pretty cool actually!

Age 11...growing up on the farm...we were busy helping feed + clean-up after the farm animals (cows, pigs, chickens, etc.) shooting .410 shotgun and .22lr...playing sports and riding motorcycles (got my 1st Kawasaki, a 75, that year...that was a blast to ride!) Age 11 was a good year!
 

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when I was eleven..we practiced weekly....nuclear war drills....at school...we had blast shutters on the side of the school facing Holloman AFB....that each day a student was selected to crank closed from inside .. .the school had been designed and built to be resistant to blast effect of a-bombs...and one wall of the gym/assembly room...was filled from floor to ceiling with survival foods/water/cots/blankets....medical supplies....as the location was a designated fall out shelter

It is still a clear memory of mom filling the bathtub with water, and my brother and I were told to stay out of it....the cans of soup stacked along the dining room wall...as chet huntley and david brinkley.....on the black and white tv....saying it is a critical time...be prepared....1963 cuban missle crisis....as the trains from the north roared though town loaded with military equipment......the roar of jets coming down onto the valley......landing...and others leaving...
Yeah, that's when you heard sonic booms on a regular enough basis that the media told you it was 'the sound of freedom'.
 

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I started my first responsible job... delivering newspapers. I had saved enough money to buy a new 10 speed Schwinn, bailing hay the previous 2 summers, for a farmer who went to our church. It was 1974, and I clearly remember how violent the sky looked early in April. 148 tornadoes crossed 13 states, and into Ontario, Canada, on April 3rd-4th, claiming 319 lives. While on my paper route, a few days later, I found a statement from a bank in Xenia, Ohio, roughly 180 miles away.

I was 11 years old.
 

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At 11, I played Little League baseball and spent a lot of time on the water. If I wasn't fishing, I was soft shell crab hunting in the marshes and around pier pilings at low tide. To subsidize my candy habit, I mowed lawns.

Shooting never was a hobby of mine until I reached young adulthood. Making a shot like that at any age is quite an accomplishment, even greater at age 11.
 

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Going to a 3 room school house where we would play "mumbly peg" at recess with our knives, and no one called the police, even if someone got stuck in the foot. Where the school master would store our shotguns (during hunting season) in a closet until school was released. Now, these WERE the good ole days.
 

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When I was 11, I shot an old 22 single shot that was bought used in 1935. It was so worn out, you had to hold about 12" left and 12" low to hit a ground squirrel.

The families joined annual income would be less than what that rifle would cost
 
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