The 25 cent Quarter Horse

My home town hosts a regional state fair, a pretty big deal when you are 12. Tractor pulls, half mile open wheel dirt track races, circus elephants, livestock shows, and of course the obligatory carnival booths, freak shows, rides with tattooed operators, and their chromed out Electra Glides, . Always at the end of summer, always hot, dry, and dusty, at least in my memories.
Mom was working a church charity venue, hamburgers, fries, hotdogs and such. Not wanting to hang out in the hot tent I asked if I could walk around the fair and for some money for a ride or two.
With permission and 25 cents, 1962 was a different time, I was on my way. Armed with knowledge from Readers Digest, Popular Science and Popular Mechanics articles that Carnival games of chance rarely leave anything to chance. I watched people lose big $'s for 10 cent prizes. Passing on ping pong ball in a gold fish bowl, ring toss, softball in a basket, three bottle baseball, fuzzy doll baseball, balloon darts etc. I was just enjoying all the sights and sounds of the midway.
Three shots for a quarter! Win any prize in the booth!
Now we're talking! I've always been a good rifle shot, learning with a handed down Remington 510 Targetmaster. I stood back and observed for a long time, looking for 'The Tricks', trying to get up the nerve to spend my precious quarter, but not wanting to have to admit to 'wasting' it at a carnival shooting gallery.
Three shots for a quarter! Win any prize in the booth!
The targets were close, maybe ten feet, clipped to metal roller skates rolled back and forth by a string on a track. The "Trick" was in the target, three red 0's with white centers. The height of the 0's center was maybe two inches however, the width was exactly as wide as a .22 caliber bullet hole. In order to win any prize in the booth, the three shots could not touch red. Elevation, lots of room for error, making it look easy, but just a hairs breadth left or right was a loser. I also took notice only one skate stopped with its target card exactly level. As I watched, over a dozen grown ups tried many times and failed.
Three shots for a quarter! Win any prize in the booth!
Finally I screwed up the courage to go for it, working my way up to the counter in front of the square skate, I proffered my precious quarter. The proprietor didn't give me a second look as he took my quarter and ran a fresh target card down the rail. He looked a little annoyed when a short fat 12 year old country hick kid with a buzz cut asked " Does it shoot straight"? I did take notice he handed me a different gallery gun than the one on the counter in front of me. Was that good or bad? I tried not to think about it.
Three shots for a quarter! Win any prize in the booth!
The counter was chest high on me, perfect height to rest both elbows on while shooting. Good solid rest, breath in, exhale slowly, sssqueeeze the trigger. Tink, the sights were good! A .22 caliber hole appeared perfectly centered in the first red 0. I pumped a fresh round into the gallery rifle and proceeded to settle in for the next shot. Hey kid, no elbows on the counter, I was Busted! But with a forearm leaning against the counters front edge I was still well braced and steady. Breath in, exhale slowly, sssqueeeeze
the trigger. Tink, a .22 caliber hole appeared perfectly centered in the middle 0. I pumped a fresh round into the gallery rifle. Hey kid, no touching the counter. Not being able "cheat the cheater" for the last shot, I assumed my best often practiced classic NRA standing unsupported rifle position. This one would tell the tale, relax, breath in, exhale slowly, sssqueeeeeeeze the trigger. Tink, a .22 caliber hole instantly appeared perfectly centered in the last red 0.
As they say, the crowd went wild! I was in my own little world and failed to notice a crowd had gathered behind me to observe the proceedings. The gallery proprietor wheeled the skate up, pulled the target card and reluctantly admitted I was a winner.
Armed with the knowledge that the best prizes are on the top shelf all the way in back, I refused all the stuffed animal prizes up front. What's a 12 year old farm kid going to do with a stuffed giraffe anyway. In the top back corner almost hidden from view was a metal Quarter Horse Statue. I was adamant, I want the horse in back! Again refusing all other prizes offered, I want the horse statue! The Barker not
wanting to give up the most expensive prize he had, claimed he couldn't reach it.
And a twelve year old grabbed the back edge of the counter and climbed into the booth!