I am sharing this story because a few weeks before passing Justin and a bunch of us went camping and this was a story that we shared at our camping trip. I remember watching and listening to him laugh when I told it....He remembered!
Everyone who knows our family knows that behind my mamaw's house used to be a little house. It was small only 1 bedroom, bathroom, living room, and kitchen, but boy how just about everyone had their turn living there...And everyone who knows my family knows that when we were growing up I was right on Justin's heels. Everywhere he went I wanted to go. Everything he did, I wanted to do too. Fishing, cleaning squirrels, riding his dirt bike, or as in the story I am about to tell shooting his guns.
So on this particular day. (I can't remember which family that was occupying "the little house" at the time). I only remember that Justin and I was on the front porch and he was firing off rounds with this .Browning 12 gauge shotgun. Of course I was aggravating Justin to "let me shoot it, let me shoot it" so he did...He showed me how to hold it by standing behind me and postioning the butt of the shotgun just under my shoulder. I was probably 11 years old at the time and a small girl. Justin then says to me "make sure you are steady Stephanie Lynn cause it might kick a little". I closed one eye and took aim, then squeezed the trigger just as he had showed me. BOOM! The shotgun went off! It was no little kick as he previously mentioned... It knocked me back into Justin who was standing behind me, I dropped the shotgun, and about that time Justin staggered back and his leg went right through the floor of the front porch. He was laughing and cussing. ...I was laughing... Even though his leg was through the wood of the porch, We just laughed......