Story by Sydney Brainard
Photos by Joe Macia
Thousands of gun shows take place across America every year, including many in North Carolina. As epicenters of gun culture and venues of the “gun show loophole” — a legal gap allowing customers to skirt background checks when purchasing guns at showcases — these shows have been uniquely central to the long-divisive American gun debate.
According to a 2024 Pew Research Center poll, about half of U.S adults believe it’s more important to protect the right to own guns, while the other half believe it’s more important to regulate gun ownership. But even those who fall in line with the former don’t necessarily have a fascination with them. So who are these gun lovers coming from all over to see, touch, buy and talk about guns at gun shows?
On a cool February morning, the North Carolina Gun Collectors Association hosted its gun show in Statesville, NC. It was both everything and nothing like an outsider might expect.
The show took place inside the Statesville Civic Center, a sprawling brick building with a large expo space, long enough for several rows of tables to fit. The tables were piled with guns, ammunition, military memorabilia, knives, books, stickers and even leather bags. It wasn’t just guns, but a whole world of items that the gun lover might find interesting, many of them related to military history. This variety isn’t new. In fact, this expansive web of gun-adjacent accessories has been an integral part of gun culture since the beginning.
The very first gun show took place in 1895 at Madison Square Garden, with exhibits from gun manufacturers like Winchester, Colt and Remington. Called “The Sportsman’s Exhibition,” it also displayed fishing tackle, sailing and camping exhibits and kennel supplies for sporting dogs — everything a true turn-of-the-century sportsman could need or want. Throughout the following century, gun shows became inextricably linked to America’s military exploits and national culture. A national identity was constructed around the gun, through movies, advertising and the prized ethos of masculine individualism and patriotism. Gun shows readily reflect that developed cultural identity, even today.
Upon talking to the vendors, it became clear that there tended to be two general categories of gun enthusiasts that came to shows; those that were interested in modern arms – referred to as “black guns” by several of the vendors due to their black steely finish – and those that were interested in historic arms and the historic forms of craftsmanship that created them. The NCGCA show was aimed more towards the latter, but not all shows are like that; some have a much heavier focus on modern weaponry.
These modern gun shows may be closer to what most people have in mind when it comes to a gun show. However, they seem to also be more skeptical of outside attention. Of the several gun shows around the state contacted for this story, the NCGCA show was the only one that allowed media inside.
“There is a genre of people who are interested in how many rounds will the gun hold and how fast will it shoot,” Dwight Smathers, NCGCA member and gun vendor, said. “I specialize in single shot and they only shoot once.”
Smathers sells antiques, and not just guns – his wares include boxes of ammunition from the 1920s and unique, hard-to-find shells. He sees firearms as an integral part of the United States’ history, and one that shouldn’t be ignored.
“If it hadn’t been for the manufacturers in New England, we probably would not have won World War One,” Smathers said. “So there’s historical significance for that, and yet those communities ignore the fact that the Industrial Revolution that carried America forward actually started a lot with firearms.”
A retired high school principal, Smathers was raised in the mountains north of Asheville and grew up hunting with his family. Now 75, he’s focused more on his love for antique weaponry after his retirement, but he’d been fascinated since the beginning. Many other vendors and attendees have a similar story – raised with guns and hunting from a young age; practically born into the culture. Others became interested after their time in the military.
Larry Campbell’s love for guns grew after serving as a helicopter pilot in the Vietnam War. He was selling guns in Statesville just to get rid of a few he didn’t need, along with Civil War-era domino sets and unique U.S. currency pieces. His gun collection is large, yet, he doesn’t actually shoot with them.
“Vietnam vet, PTSD, I don’t kill,” Campbell said. “I’ve got a 100 acre farm. I’ve got groundhogs that are killing the place, but I’m not going to shoot one. I’m just not going to kill anything.”
Campbell likes the feel of the gun, the weight of it on his shoulder, but not the shooting part. He’s also interested primarily in the historical aspect of collecting, with his collection ranging from pieces from the 1890s to the 1960s.
Historical displays were everywhere at the show. NCGCA President David Brown, collects and sells samurai memorabilia. Other vendors were focused mainly on older western guns. One display hosted by author C. Michael Briggs showcased craftsmanship from different North Carolina longrifle making styles that existed between 1770 and 1870. These antique guns were often wood, with intricate metal detailing. It’s this style and older technique that much of the historical crowd is interested in.
“I don’t have any historical stuff, but it is fascinating to see the craftsmanship,” Matt, an attendee at the show, said. Matt asked to only be referred to by his first name – one of many attendees and vendors at the show who were wary of being interviewed by a journalist. Matt became interested in guns through the Boy Scouts of America, but learned most of what he knew from his time in the Marine Corps, before a serious injury forced him to medically retire. It’s his first gun show in over a decade. “Just the craftsmanship that they put into that stuff back in the day, the way they built them, and then the new stuff – it’s just appreciation for everything.”
The overwhelming majority of attendees were men. There were a few female vendors and attendees and quite a few families with young children. Strollers maneuvered between tables of rifles and kids ogled at weaponry. A few wives tagged patiently along with their husbands.
“I just tolerate it. As long as he keeps it safe, I’m happy,” attendee Roseann Cook said. She was there with her husband Jerry Cook, a gun collector who has been attending shows for the last 60 years.
“Eight years old, got my first shotgun,” Jerry Cook said. “From there it just escalated.”
Like Cook, many of the NCGCA attendees are part of an older crowd attracted to the historic weaponry. Some even expressed concern that the younger generation was more interested in the modern guns, and worried that love for the historic guns would dwindle. It’s not an unfounded fear.
“We sell stuff here that we don’t sell at our store,” Andrew Austin, owner of Victory Arms and Munitions. Austin, 29, was one of the youngest vendors at the show. His store offers both modern and older military surplus guns. Austin agrees that the younger crowds tend to gravitate more towards the modern guns. “This hobby, this show has got to get some young blood in it to stay alive.”
Austin thinks this is partly an economic issue. “There’s not as many young guys that are able to collect stuff,” he said. Austin attributes much of this difficulty to the rising cost of living, compared to when the older generation began their collections. “A lot of these guys grew up where there wasn’t the rent demands there are now.”
Guns themselves can cost anywhere from the low hundreds to the high thousands, not to mention factors of historical rarity. Modern guns are just often cheaper than prized historical guns, but they also can shoot more and faster, which is certainly more attractive to some buyers.
Along with Austin, Marc Rosenbalm was one of the few vendors selling modern arms. He frequents gun shows across the state, usually attending one show a week.
“I get people anywhere from 18 when they’re first legal to buy their first rifle, to guys who are well into their senior years and are retired.” Rosenbalm said. “So we kind of cover the whole board.”
Rosenbalm and Austin described a sense of discomfort when navigating conversations about their jobs. Within the walls of the gun show, there was a shared understanding and love for the weapons, but outside, the gun exists within a vastly different context. To some, like those who attended these shows, a gun can protect, provide and serve as a symbol for independence. To others, it’s a tool of death and suffering, inseparable from the victims that lay in its wake. It’s rare to meet anyone in America that has little to no opinion about guns.
“I try to lead off with ‘small business owner,’ and I try not to put myself out there,” Austin said. “I really don’t want to get into that discussion with people because people have their minds made up by and large. I’m not going to change anybody’s mind, but it’s definitely a politically charged job.”
Rosenbalm is from Asheville, and feels that many people in the area don’t think highly of his work. “I’ve had people, especially locally where I live, tell me they disagree with what I do and what I stand for, and that’s okay,” he said. “Not everybody’s beliefs have to be the same.”
Questions of politics are some of the first that come to mind for many when they think of guns, so it was surprising to see that the political debate didn’t feel particularly predominant at the gun show. Make no mistake, Trump and MAGA paraphernalia was present at the show, but it felt less central to the expo than anticipated. It seemed to be just another part of that shared understanding among the gun hobbyists; the political is ever-present, but there’s no need to hold your end of the debate up when everyone’s largely on the same page.
“I know everybody in here, just about, I’d say 99.9% are all Trump supporters, or Republicans if Trump wasn’t there.” Roger Anderson, a vendor at the show, said. Anderson wore a Trump hat, and his table was scattered with Trump stickers. “It’s kind of a safe haven for gun nuts.”
In conversations about the political aspects of guns, the resounding answer to the gun violence question seemed to be the gun-rights adage, “guns don’t kill people, people kill people.” There were mentions of the crimes caused by stolen guns and of cartels bringing automatic weapons into the United States, although the data shows that the flow of weapons actually moves in the opposite direction.
“Criminality is the part where they need to break it down,” one vendor said. He declined to provide his name, asking to be known only as ‘an American citizen who knows his gun rights.’ “If you catch someone with a stolen gun, they could give him 25 years in prison and hard labor.”
“Put it this way,” he continued, “if a loaded gun, by itself, laying down, kills a person without anybody touching it, that’d be impossible. So if a gun does that, that means cars driving down the road with a drunk driver are just as guilty as a gun laying down.”
There is a sense that conversations around guns may always be like this. The gun versus the gun user. The tool that killed versus the action that killed. What or who are we willing to preserve and what or who are we willing to sacrifice? In the Statesville Civic Center that morning, hobbyists, history buffs and hunters milled around for hours, with no one who might question if they love the wrong thing.
