True story. An old fellow grew up with guns, loved shooting and hunting, and passed his passion on to his son – even named him “Colt”, after the manufacturer of the venerable “Peacemaker”. That love of responsible and skilled gun ownership was part of their familial bond, and when the boy married, his bride, a nuclear plant scientist, loved shooting, too. They were not only avid hunters, they delighted in target shooting at the range and in their vast Idaho woods. They took extensive safety training and held concealed carry
permits.
Like many citizens living avidly under the second amendment, there were firearm enthusiast’s gifts under the Christmas tree. The doting husband’s gift to his wife was a lovely purse, specifically designed to secure a concealed weapon – which she never left home without – in a zippered compartment. Every time the NRA’s Wayne LaPierre leaves powder burns and spit on a microphone, we must hold the picture of such as this family to restore our belief in a responsibly exercised, constitutional right.
That was the image until the cautious old fellow’s 2-year old grandson, sitting in a shopping cart, reached into that specially designed purse, found Mommy’s gun, and blew a hole in more than a pretty picture. The young, responsible, well trained and concealed –carry-licensed mom was dead before she hit the floor in the Wal-Mart.
Once more, the store, the cinema, the school, become Grand Guignol theater. After the scene is scrubbed, hosed, and reopened, we’re left to parse American gun culture. Left to separate Cliven Bundy’s redneck goons with rifles trained on federal law officers, from the pretty young gal at the range. Left to divine a half dozen moral slobs brandishing their ARs in the Chipotle because they can because freedom, from the skilled young couple who “carried every day of their lives”. If the days of our lives
were a home video, they’re looking like one directed by Sam Peckinpah.
The CDC finds there are 22 accidental gun deaths – errors, suicides, criminal homicides – for every justifiable shooting death in America. For every “thug” whose backside was deservedly, legally capped, there are 22 others who’ve crossed over from despondency to rigor mortis, 22 who’ve always been careful owners until a week before their memorial service.
How do we reconcile the lunatic perforating school children and teachers, from that little Idaho boy? He’ll keep asking questions as he grows up, keep asking about the parent he remembers only as a vaguely loving aura, keep asking for stories of the aching space in his heart until he’s old enough to learn why they go to the cemetery on Mother’s Day instead of Olive Garden, until he’s a big enough boy to know of Mommy’s last Christmas in a blood-drenched housewares aisle?
The best of the holidays to you all, and a Happy New Year as well; may you hold your families closely, blessedly intact.
Pamela Heyne says
Each time we have such tragic gun related incidents I think….”now we will have some sanity.” But no…gun registration goes up.