Will Hayden - Sons of Guns: Straight-Shootin Stories from the Star of the Hit Discovery Series

To my wife, Rachel, and all the years to come

COVER DESIGN BY FEEZA MUMTAZ
COVER PHOTOGRAPH 2013 BY DCL/JEREMY COWART

Credit: Courtesy of the author

A bout five years ago, just for shits and giggles, I posted a video on YouTube. The video showed mewell, a sixty-pound-heavier version of me, thank you very muchlooking like my usual pissed-off, semipsychotic self, wearing a wrinkled wife beater, cute-as-a-button bunny slippers, and my customary I could give a fuck grin, appearing as if I had just rolled out of bed, which I had (late night, woke up at the crack of noon, no complaints, it was fun as hell). I was smoking the stub of a cigarette and just flat-out cuttin loose with one of our short-barreled Saiga-12 fully automatic shotguns. If you ever need a right proper remedy for the hair of the dog, trust me brother. A one-mag range session with a full-auto, short-barreled shotgun like our Saiga-12 is the prime ticket.

Now for those of you unfamiliar with this ferocious piece of hardware, its the bees knees. No joke. The kind of weapon you see in crazy-ass action movies where shit blows up left and right and bullets fly like swarms of locusts on meth. It certainly aint the typical gun-store gun. Lets put it that way. Then again, Red Jacket damn sure aint your typical gun store, but well get into that later.

So I rip through a full twelve-round mag in less time than it takes a fart to smell before turning to the camera, flashing the most sincere Colgate smile I can muster, and saying, Red Jacket, motherfucker. Dont mean nothingjust my standard Baton Rouge top of the morning to ya greeting. Thats just how we do it down here. And if youre offended by that, oh well. I aint making no apologies.

Now videos are kinda like kids. You can raise em however you want, do anything you want to em in their rearing years, but once you turn em loose on the world thats all she wrote. Its outta your hands. Whatever happens happens. You can either go the route of the camel and bury your head in the sand and hope the storm passes you by or you can own up to it. Me, I own up to everything I do. No exceptions. Ive said it before and Ill say it again: if you dont like me, or dont agree with how I do things, or dont subscribe to my ideologies, or dont like the cut of my shirts, thats on you. Go spit.

But what I didnt know at the time was Discovery had been looking to develop a reality television show to explore the very heart of the American gun culture by focusing on the daily antics of a small, mom-and-pop-type gun biza retail shop that also had some sort of manufacturing capability. This way theyd get insight into the industry, the merchandise, the design, and the construction of the bang-and-boom devices we make, and, in our case, the nuts behind the counter.

Well Im sure you can see where Im going with this. The Hollywood folks saw my little videorumor has it their eyes went as wide as saucersand they immediately gave the shop a ring, fingers fumbling because they couldnt dial fast enough. I remember the voice on the other end of the line like it was yesterday.

Yes, good morning. We saw a video on YouTube and were wondering if the gentleman in it was still affiliated with your company?

I had to stifle a laugh. Ive been called a lot of things in my lifemost of which Id prefer not to repeat in case women or children are reading thisbut I assure you a gentleman aint one of em.

I took a drag on my cigarette, blew out a cloud of smoke, and casually replied in my customary I could give a damn Cajun drawl, Yeah, Im still here.

I could sense the excitement on the other end of the linewhy, I have no clueand the next thing I know Im being confronted with another question.

Wed like to send out a cameraman to your place, get some footage, and run it up the pole. See what happens. Are you okay with that?

Cameraman? Footage? Run it up the pole? What the hell was this guy talkin about? I know they have different terminology in Hollyweird, a far cry from our verbiage down in Baton Rouge, but last I checked the folks in Californ-i-a still spoke English. At least a version of English. What this cat was saying, I hadnt the foggiest.

Still, what the hell was I gonna say? No? That would mean I actually gave a turkeys turd. If Discovery wanted to waste their time filming little ol me and my boys doin the stuff we do to earn our daily bread, more power to em. I mean I certainly didnt think anything they saw or filmed was gonna interest anyone, especially when it came to making a TV show. Cuttin metal, drillin metal, weldin metal, paintin metal, carvin wood: the inner workings of a gun manufacturereven with the cool-ass weapons we build and work ondidnt strike me as the kind of entertainment people would want to plop down on their couches and order in pizzas to watch. Course, it wouldnt be the first time I was wrong and it sure as shit wont be the last.

So you can imagine my surprise when a few months after that cameraman came and went, I got another call that the show had been green-lightedHollywoodspeak for game on, you son of a bitch! And the rest, as they say, is history.

Sons of Guns is now blessed with millions of viewersthey call em fansand has been broadcast in more than two hundred countries.

Two hundred!

Really? How did that happen?

So Im wondering... is it the guns we build and tinker with? The lost souls who turn the wrenches, cut the metal, and actually expect a paycheck for their efforts each week? The folks throughout this great nation of ours who wanna buy our crazy products? Or is it because guns are and forever will be ingrained in the fabric of American society?

Hell if I know. And maybe I never will.

All I do know is that the Hollywood folks keep showin up at my shop with their gear, stickin video cameras and mics in the faces of me and my boys, recording all the stuff we love to doalong with some of the stuff we just have to do. If people out there wanna keep tunin in, well, Im flattered. Heck, I dont quite get itseriously I dontbut Im flattered nonetheless.

Red Jacket, motherfucker!

Credit: Courtesy of the author

Credit: Courtesy of the author

If someone has a gun and is trying to kill you, it would be reasonable to shoot back with your own gun.

THE DALAI LAMA

W hen I think of my background, my humble roots, I think of Creedence Clearwater Revivals Fortunate Son. While the whole song applies, its the chorus that really sums up exactly who and what I am: It aint me, it aint me, I aint no millionaires son, no. It aint me, it aint me; I aint no fortunate one, no. Then again, seeing as how some wordsmith musicians have already said it better than I ever could, maybe I should be quoting the entirety of Skynyrds Simple Man, cause thats truly what I am. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a simple man.

To that effect, I live my life by a simple code. When I speak, you listen. When you speak, Ill listen. Imagine what this world would be like if people gave one another that simple courtesy. Not sure if well ever get there but, hey, stranger things have happened.

When you do speak to me, look me in the eyes. Dont disrespect me by lettin your peepers dance around. Besides, Im like a human bullshitometer; by looking you in the eyes when you speak Ill know if my chains getting jerked. On the flip side of that sentiment, I aint gonna be lookin at your feet when I address you.