[wterrell]

As a youngster full of stupidity, and not much hope for a long life, I undertook the project of reloading a few 32-40 bullets for deer hunting.
My dad was a roughneck in the oil fields at the time and had access to some black powder that was used for blasting jobs.
Powder is powder for all we knew, so I loaded up a dozen bullets. I am surprised that I was not killed while reloading the casings. But God looks after fools, I suppose.
My brother and I took the bullets and an old Winchester lever action rifle down to the creek and set up a bean can at which to shoot.
I layed the rifle across the top of an empty 55-gal drum and pulled the trigger.
The bullet exploded, rupturing the rifle barrel and also exploding 3 more rounds that were in the magazine. There was very little left of the rifle that would be recognized as operable. I was a bleeding, shocked mess of a stupor.
The rifle died.