That sounds like where I grew up in Mississippi. My 3x great grandfather acquired the land (280 acres) in the middle of nowhere over 100 years ago and then the DeSoto National Forest was established on all of the land surrounding it. (He refused to sell.) Aside from our house and my grandparents house on the land, the nearest neighbor was ~8 miles down the road where civilization basically stopped at the government woods line. My drive to high school was 30-40 minutes depending on the weather as half of that drive was dirt road.
I really miss it. It was peaceful and isolated. I could plink gongs at 300 yards across the field with a 30-06 and noone around to even hear it, much less care. We had 40 acres of cleared farm land where we grew everything from corn to watermelon, squash, cantaloupe, peas, okra, and potatoes, which stocked up the freezers for the year and then some. We raised cows and pigs for meat, milk, and breeding. We had a chicken house for eggs and meat chickens. Come October-November, everybody in the family contributed to hunting including the women. Looking back on it, I'm impressed with how well my 65 year old grandmother could climb up in that stand in ghillie with a .270 and other gear at 4am. lol We'd bag 10-12 good sized does, usually older ones past their mating prime, to stock the freezers up, and then buck hunt only the rest of winter.
But yeah, guns were everywhere and everybody was exposed to them from a young age. The biggest thing was always safety and respect. My dad's shotgun was always loaded and by the front door, and I knew very well not to touch it. I shot my first gun at 5, killed my first deer at 6, and started competing in junior shooting competitions at 8. I loved (still do) long range precision shooting. My proudest moment came when I was 16 and took down a deer at 378 yards with a 30-06.
When walking around the land, I always had a pistol on me. Permit? What's a permit? lol