There are certain summers that live forever in memory.
For some, it was the year they fell in love. For me, it was the year I nearly lost an eye to a Daisy lever-action.
It began in the spring of 1985, when my friends and I, armed with imagination and poor judgment, decided to organize a neighborhood militia. My family and I had moved to Amarillo by that point.
Well, it was technically Amarillo.
We li…