PROLOGUE
It was Pop who taught me to shoot,
He showed me how to aim and hold that
gun real steady.
But when it came to life,
aiming wasn't so easy for him.
Seemed like he was always stumbling around
looking for something that would make him happy.
I don't reckon he ever found it.
When he died,
I was stuck with Granddaddy and with stories
of how back during the Great War,
he turned my pop into his own personal enemy.
Pop was just a boy then.
The way I figure it,
what I learned from the two of them
and from my own dumb mistakes
is enough to fill a book.
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