Last month I lost one of my best friends. Nolan Santy was 87 when he passed, a genuinely good man and one of the nicest guys in the gun world. Maybe in the world, period.
I met him when I was a teenager and he was the master gunsmith at one of the all time great gun shops, Riley’s Sport Shop in Hooksett, NH. I became one of the many shooters he mentored. He invited me to join him at the great old Wilson Hill Pistol Club in Manchester, New Hampshire. I got hooked on competition shooting – bullseye pistol at the time – and stayed hooked for life. A part-time cop, he got me into law enforcement, and the result was 43 years carrying a badge. When he was looking for an apartment, I got him into one at my parents’ apartment building. We became neighbors and besties. He and his wonderful wife Sarah were close friends with me and my then-wife; as time went on, we became godparents to each others’ children. Sarah passed all too soon in 2012, and Dorothy a few years later, but we stayed in touch.
Nolan made fabulous custom rifles, and some of my favorite custom handguns. He had enjoyed retirement for some years before his passing, sharp as a tack to the end.
He leaves daughters Sarah and Rebecca, and son Jonathan. Nolan Santy was the quintessential Gun Guy, and he will be greatly missed.
While sorry to see him go, it’s really good to hear of someone who kept all his marbles to the end.
Sorry for your loss, Mas, friends like that are truly irreplaceable.
It’s one of the saddest parts about growing older. The men who were our mentors are long gone.
The blessing is being able to remember them, and use their wisdom when dealing with our children and grandchildren.
Condolences to you. I lost a father in law who my mentor and father to me for 50 years after my father’s passing. These people are irreplaceable.
Mas,
Sorry for your, and his family’s, loss.
Sounds like a great guy.
Vince
Sorry for your loss.
As so wonderfully stated.in the Wizard.of Oz, paraphrasing a touch,
A man is judged.not.so much.by how he loves others but by how much.he is loved by others.
There is no greater remembrance of someone we love than to share them with others.
I don’t believe we have lost Mr. Santy, only physically, but I do believe and know that Heaven gets a little more special every time someone we.love.goes home.to.Heaven.
Thank you Mr. Shoot for sharing Mr. Santy with us. We all love you and Mrs. Ayoob.
I recall you writing about him decades ago and admiring him and his work from afar….wish I’d known him.
I loved his gun shop in Hookset. He was such a nice person. At the range at his shop was where I first fired a 1911
Sorry for your loss. Please keep his memory alive sharing his stories.
Mas, Enjoyed your articles re older shooters. When I requalified for CCW with the .45 I didn’t. It was too heavy so I switched to the LC9. and did very well. Recently After reading your articles on older shooters, I tried handling 3 different revolvers. I COULDN’T BUDGE THE CYLINDER RELEASE. Is this average for an old guy? By the way I’ii be 90 my next Birthday. Thanks, Paul
I’m 61 and healthy. I’ve found that certain brands of revolvers have easily activated cylinder releases, and other brands are a little tougher on the thumb. I can’t remember which brands are the tough ones. I remember Rugers are easy, and I think S&Ws are too.
All of our decisions, both good and bad, give us the experience to make us who we have become ~~ but mentors like this help us make more right decisions and to better learn from the “less smart” ones.
If we only everyone would find and pay attention to mentors like this, the world would be so much better.
Mas.,
Sorry to hear of the passing of your long time friend. Ufortunately that is the realism of growing old. I am just a few years older than you at 83 years of age but like you have felt the pain and loss of close friends and relatives. Please accept my condolences and may he rest in peace.
What is to moderate on an old man’s question.
Sadly, true mentors are becoming rarer by the day as is evidenced by so many lost youths today. Those of us who had them are lucky and owe them a debt we can never repay.
Wonderful story of a wonderful friendship!
Mas. Sorry for your loss, good memories.
He was quite the human being. Glad he was able to make such a positive impact on so many lives.
My father James Sturtevant had a great friend, Kedric (Ked) O. Pfeiffer. They both spent time in the Pacific Theater in WWII. Dad, a Marine and Ked, Army Artillery. Ked was, among other things, a gunsmith, an engineer at Boeing, a marksman, instructor, coach, outdoorsman and quite the hunter. Dad, much the same and more, short of the engineering degree.
Lack of a degree didn’t stop Dad. As an A&P, machinist, farmer, and so much more, he eventually found time to get his private pilot certificate at age 66. He wentt on to work on everything from commercial aircraft to space vehicles and nuclear sub systems at GE and Raytheon. He got an Amateur Radio license and was active with MARS.
I recall Ked joining us at Dad’s uncle’s Walt’s place in Lewis Run, PA for his first hunt in PA. He had asked Dad at the gun club about pistols for deer in PA. That lead to the trip. I wish I could post a picture of Ked with his pistol and the 8 point.
I was young, on my 1st hunt but I recall he used a .44 mag. I don’t recall the model nor barrel length but he took that 8 point at about 45 to 50 yards with one shot.
I also recall Ked’s response to Dad’s nephew Ken at about 4pm opening day. As they both walked off the mountain into the yard. Ked, told Ken he had just seen a beautiful 8 point a bit earlier but it was too late to try for him that late in the day. Mind that Ked was quite a comptent hunter having harvested big horn and more with success, no guides. Ken listened, and knowing the mountains outside his front door since childhood, he announced that he knew where that buck was heading. Then, 30 minutes before close of the day, he told Ked he was going to get that buck. Ked said there was not enough light or time and looked on, surprised, as Ken, with a smile, abruptly turned and strode off at something short of a trot. Ked joined Walt for a coffee in the kitchen relaying the details of the situation. Walt laughed and smilled knowingly. And 3 minutes before the close of opening day, a single shot rang out from the mountain. About 10:30, Ken drags the dressed 8 point into the yard.
Ken was an amazing hunter. I think he was more deer than human. He helped me get my first deer that year. Or was it the next? My time line memory blurs. I had been tracking a 6 point for 4 days, never getting close enough for a shot with the Model 94 in .32 Spcl. We talked. He explained I saw the light but still didn’t get close enough on Friday. Friday night he listened and told me he knew where the buck was. He told me to go straight out the front door, through the brick yard and straight up the top to that flat ridge that was part of my nemesis. He said he would encourage that buck to come right up from the valley on the left. Right in front of me. And it did. I was stunned and didn’t get the shot off. But i had learned enough. I still hunted for about 45 minute and there he was, laying down just as Ken had taught me. My first deer. (My first kill made for great racoon stew. However, my sister, another competent marksman, wouldn’t eat meat for a month after).
Ken was another amazing guy. Lifelong hunter and marksman, he had just returned from a tour in Vietnam. He died about 3 years later when a drunk ran a stop sign. Lots of deer get hit by cars.
Loosing Ken was upsetting. Loosing these two in 2009 (Dad) and 2012 (Ked) was a real blow. I couldn’t talk about Dad for literally 5 years without breaking down.
They were not famous, but each were remarkable in their lives and communities. There are so many amazing people in this community we inhabit. Many we never meet but we know them when we hear their stories and they live on with us. If only I was a writer and had a better memory and paid more attention.