If you have weapons you must must must take responsibility. THAT was drilled into me when I first went to learn to shoot at the age of 12. "You," they said, "are responsible for where that bullet goes. You. Not your mom, not your dad, not the guy next you, not your best friend, but YOU." And I can still recite the "10 Commandments" -- and I try to live them (as does all of my family, including my sister):

Treat every gun as if it were a loaded gun until YOU, personally, have proven otherwise.

Be sure of your target.

Be sure of your backstop.

NEVER point a gun at something you don't intend to shoot.

...and so on. Six hours of safety instruction before we could even think about firing five rounds at the firing line.

Why? Why did my mother insist that each of her four children fire the first two "ranks" at the rifle range?

In her words, "There are a lot of guns out there and I want you kids to at least know which end it which."

It took, with a vengenance. Each of my brothers hunts and shoots and has firearms in the house -- and each of my brothers' children (nine of them, total, but it seems like more) knows how to handle firearms responsibly.

And my sister? Well, here's a little story.

Back in 1991 I bought a bolt action .22 rifle for target shooting. And I took it apart one day, put it in a gun case and took it over to show my brother Tony. At his house one evening I reassembled it and handed it to him -- he looked it over, and then (naturally) his two oldest sons HAD to look it over. I was starting to disassemble it and put it away when my sister said, "Let me see it, Mike." So I handed it to her, and the two boys started to snicker. I mean, Aunt M is going to look at Uncle Mike's rifle? This is gonna be GOOD!

It was. She dropped the magazine, opened the bolt, checked the chamber, flipped the rifle over, stuck her little fingernail into the breech to reflect light up the barrel, closed the bolt, clicked the trigger, put the rifle to her shoulder to get the feel of the balance the rifle, put the magazine back, handed me the rifle, and said, "Nice."

The two boys were left with their jaws on the floor...and now, with a younger sister who can (if she wishes) outshoot either of them.