another follow up
She meant it when she said she would do a follow up. She even went shooting with two reasonable local guys who made some good points. Of course she still won't admit that guns would help in any situation she can imagine, but she acknowledges that they could be,
maybe, useful sometimes. Give her another couple years and she might come around
Every gun has a safety - why not Second Amendment?Published October 6 2006
A fistful of .357 Magnum, fully loaded. It felt like handling a live grenade.
It felt cold, ruthless, witless and much heavier than I'd imagined. I gripped it nervously, sighted it dead center on the chest and slowly pulled the trigger.
It didn't fire so much as explode in my hands. An assault on the ears, even with the muffs.
Recoil jerked the barrel up toward Jesus, up toward the ceiling of the indoor shooting range of the Lafayette Gun Club in York County.
The shell flipped back over my head. The tang of gunpowder wafted through recirculated air still ringing from the discharge.
Cool.
I never said shooting a handgun couldn't be a thrill.
I said guns didn't belong in places like public libraries. I still think so.
But I also said I'd present counter-arguments, this time from sensible people who had a legitimate case to make.
Air Force veterans Stephen Kunich and Donald Streater fit the bill - highly trained gun enthusiasts, articulate and passionate.
If all gun owners were like them, I'd be tempted to drop my objections to allowing handguns nearly everywhere.
But of course, not all gun owners are, so I won't. But that's another story.
These guys know their firearms. Kunich lined up a sampling to blast away at paper targets: the Magnum, .45s and 9 mm semi-automatics, and a .38-caliber Saturday night special.
The right to carry handguns like these, Kunich says, boils down to this: "I want to have the option that I could engage the bad guys."
For many gun owners, bad guys are no abstract threat. They're around the next corner. They're in places as innocuous as public libraries.
"I'd be terrified to have to use it," Kunich says. "But if someone came at you intimidatingly, putting your hand here ..."
To illustrate, Kunich glared, shifted on his feet and drew his right hand to his waist about where a concealed weapon would fit inside a hip holster. Point made.
He's a 42-year-old family man who doesn't go looking for trouble. Says he actively avoids it. Stays away from high-crime areas or situations, trims the hedges around his house in Newport News, locks up at night, knows his neighbors and keeps a sharp eye on the neighborhood.
He knows that criminals prefer easy pickings, so he'd rather be a tiger than a sheep - "alert, aware and capable."
A senior analyst who works out of Langley Air Force Base, Kunich owns firearms to guard himself and his family against men without compunction.
He drills his second-grade daughter on firearm safety every week.
He also knows that there are "jerks" with guns out there. Not criminals, but law-abiding citizens who are not as responsible or proficient with weapons as he is.
But that's the price you pay, Kunich says, for a meaningful, uninfringed Second Amendment right to bear arms.
Fifty-nine-year-old Streater is also a senior analyst at Langley. He understands well that if he ever uses a firearm to defend himself, he'll have to prove three things to the law: that he was under attack, that he feared for his life or another's and that he had no other recourse.
Just touching his weapon in public for anything less, he says, could be a felony.
Whenever bad guys erupt into spectacular violence - when a man guns down little Amish schoolgirls, for instance - it only bolsters the instinct of men like Kunich and Streater to protect what's theirs.
They know that a firearm in the house couldn't have saved those Amish kids. That the actual risks to their own families are infinitesimal. They still don't like the odds.
Besides, Kunich says, firearms end up protecting people far more often than the public realizes.
He cites a 1993 telephone survey by a Florida criminology professor who projected that, in the previous year, Americans had used guns to defend themselves 2.5 million times.
I called professor Gary Kleck at Florida State University, who says his survey indicates that "defensive use of guns is very common and it's very effective."
His results and methodology have been challenged, but not conclusively.
In fact, in 1994, a U.S. Department of Justice-sponsored survey projected about 1.5 million defensive gun uses the previous year.
A different study in 1993, using different methodology, set the number at 108,000. The debate goes on.
Violent crime rates have dropped dramatically since then, so Kleck figures the number of defensive gun uses have, too.
The National Rifle Association documents true crime stories of armed citizens successfully defending themselves against criminals.
The October online edition of The Armed Citizen includes the story of Morris Brown, a Williamsburg man accosted in July in Newport News by three thugs.
The men robbed Brown, then one man pointed a handgun at him.
Brown, who has a permit to carry a concealed weapon, drew his pistol and shot two of his attackers, killing one.
Newport News police consider it a justifiable homicide, but the commonwealth's attorney is still reviewing the case.
Noncriminals bearing arms, Kleck says, reduce the effects of violence.
The key is getting guns out of the hands of criminals by strictly enforcing existing laws and by police actively checking out concealed carriers in public.
With about 200 million guns in private hands in America, Kleck figures that everybody who wants one has one.
Except me. It's a choice I wrestle with. The right gun, yes. But I don't want it enough, apparently.
With so much firepower to choose from, so much potential for mayhem in the hands of a greenhorn, I ask Streater what's the best firearm for home protection.
He smiles: "A 12-gauge shotgun - you're not gonna miss."
article here