by Mick Lindley
My grandfather Buren Knight would never do much of anything on Sunday. He would not go hunting, fishing, or work unless he had too. He always had a saying I was to learn later that went along with this story. That saying was "unloaded guns kill people". This always intrigued me, so as a boy of about 14, one day I asked him. "Papa Knight, why won't you hunt on Sunday? ". He ignored the question, so I asked again, "why won't you hunt on Sunday? ". He answered with "I just don't do it". This was totally unacceptable to a 14-year-old. I asked again point blank, "you gotta have a reason, now why". He didnít say anything for at least a full minute and I would probably have dropped it there. Finally with a tear in his eye he said "I killed my brother on Sunday". This hit me like a ton of bricks. I didnít say anything for at least a couple of minutes. I wanted to crawl under the chair and not come out. Finally I mustered up the courage to simply ask "how".
Here is the story as he briefly related it to me. Harris was 38 years old at the time and he was 21 years old. It was Sunday December 24, 1933. He and Harrison an older brother decided to go hunting. Harris was carrying the shotgun. As they approached a barb wire fence Harris handed the shotgun to him to hold while Harris crawled under the fence. When Harris stood up he passed the gun to him. At that time the "unloaded gun" fired and killed Harris instantly.
Four days later Thursday December 28, 1933 my mother Ethelene was born. This story is a good example of the fact that we never know what each week (or day) holds. In less than a week his brother died and his second daughter was born. The only real answer that makes any sense at all is that we donít know what life holds. Be ready, if you donít know God get to know him before it is too late.