When I was about 13 or 14 (1960-61), our local Co-op opened a brand new grocery store in our town (Grenfell, SK). My Dad was one of the board members, so he conscripted me to help stock the shelves for opening day. One of the items for sale was a sporterized military surplus 6.5 of some kind. I don't remember what exact calibre it was, but it sure looked good with a nice blonde stock. Now you couldn't even say the word "gun" in a grocery store and the SWAT team would be on its way. As far as I know, none of us kids that bought or were given guns back then turned out to be slobbering idiots. I recall walking out of town to go hunting, carrying my old .22 or my Dad's old Tobin double, and the little old ladies walking along the street would just smile at us and we'd exchange "hello's". The old "town cop" used to drive by and wave. (He drove a blue and red Nash-early '50's.)