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The .45-52 Zulu Gun
Updated on 3-20-2018
I pitched fastpitch softball five times a week all over Southern California for over twenty years.
I pitched in a Sunday morning league in East LA at Evergreen Park on the corner of 4th and Evergreen in 1974 and 1975 and then starting in 1976, the better players started playing in Watts at Hoover Park on the corner of Manchester and Hoover just west of the Harbor Freeway.
Hoover Park was large enough that four fastpitch games could be played at the same time on diamonds located at all four corners of the park. All of the games started at 10 AM and then after the games, most of us gathered around under some trees on the first base side of the diamond located on the northwest corner of the park. An enterprising man, with the help of his teenage children, sold barbecued chicken, hot links, ribs, and a variety of cold drinks to wash it all down.
Most of the guys stayed around for a while and discussed what happened at the games on the other diamonds. The best part was all the joking and storytelling. Ballplayers, fans, and old-timers all joined in to have a good time. It was great!
One older gentleman (I have since forgotten his name) always used to come to the games dressed in a suit. I guessed that he was stopping by after church. He would stand behind the backstop and watch whatever game was being played on the northwest diamond with some of his older friends and then stay for the storytelling afterward. I looked forward to the times when he would show up. I enjoyed kidding with him and listening to his stories.
One time he told me a funny story about a .45-52 Zulu gun. I couldn’t remember the whole thing. I would try to repeat it but couldn't remember all the little parts of it and begged for him to help me with a word or two but he would never give me any help. The next time I saw him, I would pester him to tell me again about the .45-52 Zulu gun. It would just drive me nuts because he would only tell it one time and then that would be it. He would never repeat it. He would always say, “I’ll tell it to you again the next time I see you.”
Sometimes, I wouldn’t see him for months at a time and I used to worry that I might never see him again. I put a small cassette tape recorder in a zip-lock bag to keep out the dust and began to always carry it in my game bag.
Finally, in 1982, I saw him for the last time and this time I told him that I wasn’t going to let him go without him telling me about the .45-52 Zulu gun. I showed him the tape recorder and told him that I had a C-90 cassette in it.
After some barbecue, he said, “Let’s take a walk.” I let him do all the talking as we walked away from all the others and continued walking down the left field line toward the other diamond on the northeast corner of the park which was almost deserted by then. I sensed that he just wanted to talk. He talked about his life and an assortment of topics. We quit walking and sat in the stands at the other diamond and just talked about ball playing and life in general.
When the first side of the tape ran out, I flipped it over to the other side. We talked for a while longer and then he said, “Before your tape runs out, I’d better tell you about the .45-52 Zulu gun.” We started walking back to join the others when he began to tell the story and, as any good storyteller would do, he took his time.
He spoke slowly with his gravelly voice: “I want to tell you about the .45-52 Zulu gun. It’s the most amazing gun you’ll ever see. You’d have to see it to believe it. It’s the .45-52 Zulu gun built upon an automatic frame. It'll shoot nine times before you can cock it and ten times before you can stop it. If you hold it on the left it says, "If you hold me square, I'll shoot him fair." If you hold it on the right it says, "If you hold me level, I'll shoot the Devil." Then he moved his old, bony hand back and forth past my ear in a snake-like fashion when he said, "It shoots the bewitching cannonball. If it goes by and misses you, it'll back right up and hit you. Don't allow you no chance at all!"
He was a real gentleman and I miss him.
When people ask me if I have any guns, I tell them that I have one of each of them. Seriously, I have a large collection of new guns in all of the various actions … single-action and double-action revolvers, single-shot handguns and rifles, semi-auto pistols and rifles, bolt-action rifles, lever-action rifles, semi-auto shotguns, black powder revolvers and rifles, and an assortment of pellet pistols and rifles. Even though I have ten AR-15 rifles, I still have a soft spot in my heart for my family of lever-action rifles. I have a whole room in my house and part of my very large garage dedicated to guns and all sorts of reloading stuff. I own many .22 rimfire guns in all of the various actions. .22 rimfire revolvers, pistols, and rifles have minimal noise and recoil and shooting a mountain of rimfire ammo is a great way to learn to disassociate any noise and recoil from pulling the trigger. Then, when I pull the trigger on my more powerful guns, I have learned to disregard any loud noises and recoil. When shooting my more powerful revolvers, sometimes I leave one of the cylinders empty so that I can be surprised when the gun doesn’t fire. Then I can make sure that the barrel has absolutely no movement and the sights stay perfectly aligned after I pull the trigger on an empty cylinder. My Freedom Arms Premier Grade, Model 83, .454 Casull single-action revolver is an example of one of my “thumpers.” When I’m shooting it, I just concentrate on a steady trigger pull and keeping the sights aligned. As the big boys say, “If the recoil's gonna kill ya, there's no sense flinchin.”
Whenever I’m in a group of guys who I don’t know and the subject turns to guns, it seems that there is always someone who is the ultimate gun expert. He is more than willing to tell everyone that he knows it all. After a while, I like to ask someone like that if he knows anything about the .45-52 Zulu gun. Quite naturally, he has something to say about the .45-52 Zulu gun. Then I take the opportunity to mention that I have a chance to buy the gun but it seems like it’s going to use a lot of ammo. Then I start telling him that the owner says that it’s the most amazing gun you’ll ever see and you’d have to see it to believe it. As I continue telling the story, everyone in the group starts to realize that I’m talking about an imaginary gun and then they start making fun of the supposed gun expert. The story is always good for some laughs. Some guys want to know if I could write it down for them but it’s just easier to refer them to my website. Enjoy!
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