My First Big Game Rifle
Mr. Ossife
It was a cold winter night, 1973, when Duncan and I went to the Fred Myer store in Anchorage where I was to purchase my first big game hunting rifle. After much research and discussion with fellow teachers, I decided to purchase a 7 mm Magnum Remington BDL model. This rifle was powerful with a flat trajectory that could kill a moose at a long distance. I was to become a genuine Alaskan with such a nice firearm!
We found the rifle and I happily purchased it to take home. A box of ammunition came too, as I planned to test it out later that week.
It was about two weeks later when I got the phone call.
“Hello, is this Daniel Lake?” I heard.
“Yes,” I replied.
“I am Mr. Ossife with the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms”, he announced.
“Did you just buy a rifle at Fred Myers store in Anchorage?” he asked.
Worried, I replied in the affirmative.
“Well, we have a report that the rifle you purchased may be part of a shipment of stolen rifles that were sold there,” Mr. Ossife related.
“What? (long pause) Are you sure mine was one of them?” I asked.
“Probable,” Mr. Ossife replied. “What is the serial number?”
I ran to the garage and grabbed my new treasure and brought it to the phone. I carefully read to him the numbers identifying the rifle.
He read them back to me, saying “Yes,” “That number is listed here”.
By this time I was panicking.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“We will have to ask you to bring the rifle to our Anchorage office,” was the reply. “We will have to keep it here until litigation determines what to do with the purchase you made. You may lose your money."
By this time I was totally flustered.
“But, but…” I stammered.
And just then I heard a loud chuckle.
Duncan was Mr. Ossife. I had been soundly pranked.
It was a cold winter night, 1973, when Duncan and I went to the Fred Myer store in Anchorage where I was to purchase my first big game hunting rifle. After much research and discussion with fellow teachers, I decided to purchase a 7 mm Magnum Remington BDL model. This rifle was powerful with a flat trajectory that could kill a moose at a long distance. I was to become a genuine Alaskan with such a nice firearm!
We found the rifle and I happily purchased it to take home. A box of ammunition came too, as I planned to test it out later that week.
It was about two weeks later when I got the phone call.
“Hello, is this Daniel Lake?” I heard.
“Yes,” I replied.
“I am Mr. Ossife with the Bureau of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms”, he announced.
“Did you just buy a rifle at Fred Myers store in Anchorage?” he asked.
Worried, I replied in the affirmative.
“Well, we have a report that the rifle you purchased may be part of a shipment of stolen rifles that were sold there,” Mr. Ossife related.
“What? (long pause) Are you sure mine was one of them?” I asked.
“Probable,” Mr. Ossife replied. “What is the serial number?”
I ran to the garage and grabbed my new treasure and brought it to the phone. I carefully read to him the numbers identifying the rifle.
He read them back to me, saying “Yes,” “That number is listed here”.
By this time I was panicking.
“What happens now?” I asked.
“We will have to ask you to bring the rifle to our Anchorage office,” was the reply. “We will have to keep it here until litigation determines what to do with the purchase you made. You may lose your money."
By this time I was totally flustered.
“But, but…” I stammered.
And just then I heard a loud chuckle.
Duncan was Mr. Ossife. I had been soundly pranked.