Adventures with Ignaton Part 1

Ignaton, Russ and I were good friends. Ignaton and Russ shared a house. One evening, we all agreed to meet at the closed gravel pits to do some plinking. Russ went ahead of us on his new off-road bike instead of riding his 1953 Harley Panhead.

Ignation and I rushed down in his VW and upon arriving were greeted by red and blue Christmas lights -- aka law enforcement.

Sadly, Russ had taken off between the pits at high speed and had hit a broken off 4x4, which flipped his bike; death was instant. After his funeral, Ignaton and I talked and agreed to me moving into their house.

I was nearing the end of my cross-country semi driving, and Ignaton worked at a large local hospital. He had his VW and a kubbelwagon and his Honda Gold Wing, which he parked out back. Myself, a VW, my camo Ghia and a fire engine red with black leather interior Triumph Spitfire convertible sports car. Oh, yeah!

As usual, Ignaton would arrive home, rush up to his room, get out of his hospital uniform and bound down the steps and out the back door to take scoot on his Goldwing. This day proved different. As he headed out the back door, he felt his left pocket and stopped -- no keys.

He went into the gun room -- where we reloaded -- and he had placed two sets of three old school lockers. He apparently thought he had locked his Goldwing keys in the middle locker, which was padlocked, which key ring also held the keys to that lock. He tried to break the lock with a hammer and no go. Ignaton never was a patient person.

So he unlocks the next locker which had a combo lock. He pulls out an M16 full auto rifle. Back then, when you became a Class Three firearms dealer, Colt allowed you to buy two fully automatic rifles from them. We bought the M16 SP1 and an M177 shorty -- today’s M4. The cost then was $200 each -- today $12,000. Yes, $200 for a fully auto M16.

He slapped in a fully loaded 20rd mag, slapped it shut and aimed at the lock. Myself? I got the heck out of there. A quick second later, all 20rds were fired. I went back into the gun room, smoke and dust everywhere. The lock? Not even touched, but there was this nice pattern of holes down the middle of the center locker.

Ignaton grabbed a bigger hammer and finally broke the lock. When he opened the locker, he gasped. He missed shooting his expensive cameras, and there was light coming through the back of the lockers. If you know, the old school lockers were made of thin metal. Not only did he make a nice pattern through the front of the locker but also out the back.

The locker was up against the wall and there was light coming through, so we moved the locker and sure enough -- a nice pattern through the front, out the back and through both sides of the wall. We walked around the corner and yes, my bedroom was full of floating dust, holes through the plaster wall, feathers floating from my now shot up feather pillow and parts of my matress everywhere. Worse or funnier?

Ignaton touched his other pocket and yes, you guessed it, his keys were in that pocket. He shrugged, went out back, hopped on his bike and went for a scoot. He later patched the walls and replaced the shot-up locker. I put a new pillowcase on my pillow and a new bed sheet on my shot-up mattress, and life went on. And that is just one adventure with Ignaton.