From: Steve Pruitt (spruitt@swbell.net)
Date: Mon Dec 15 1997 - 09:03:37 MST
About twelve years ago I had an experience which changed my entire
perspective on gun ownership and self-protection.
My wife and I were college students and we lived in a ground floor
apartment. Since it was Spring in Texas and quite pleasant outside, we
had a living room window partly opened. After a few hours of sleep, we
were woken by the sound of
rustling blinds. Our cat had a habit of climbing up into the windowsill
and banging the blinds and my wife would get up and the raise the blinds
out of the cat's way. Usually, I would fall back to sleep before my
wife got back in bed. But, this time the sound had a different quality
to it. So, I remained awake.
>From the living room, my wife let out a loud, horrific scream. It was
utterly primeval. I immediately jumped out of bed and ran into the
room. My adrenaline was pumping to the point I thought my heart was
going to explode; I was ready to fight with tooth and nail. Next to the
window I found my wife shivering with fright.
In a sleepy state and expecting to find our cat, she had walked up to
the window. Instead, she discovered a man half-way through the window.
Upon her scream and my imminent arrival, he ran away. But not before he
whispered sometime to her. To this day, my wife's memory still blocks
what he said.
After a few minutes, I stopped hyper-ventilating and called the police.
They arrived, looked around, took some notes, waited until we were
somewhat calm, and left. There wasn't much more they could do.
So, my wife and I laughed if off thinking the "burglar" would have been
quite disappointed with our paltry student belongings.
The next Monday I came back from class to find my wife ashened and
sitting on the couch in a stunned state. She had just gotten off the
phone with the detective who was following up on the case.
Apparently, it was not a burglar. They come during the day. Nope, this
fellow was what the detective called a home invader and he was not there
to steal. The detective was very, very interested in what he had
whispered to my wife before running away. But, she could not, or would
not recall. The detective told my wife she was very lucky that she was
not alone.
In that instance I realized that personal protection via a police force
was at most a partial illusion. I realized I had no means, except a
kitchen knife, to protect myself and my loved ones. I, also, realized
that I would never, never be in that situation again. I now own a
street-legal short-barreled shotgun.
People are kidding themselves if they believe they can delegate their
self-protection to a police force. I am sorry. But we, as a society,
have not, yet, reached the point where we do not need to assume
responsibility for the protection of ourselves and our families. To
think otherwise is dangerous. I wish it were false.
The jungle is still full of lions, tigers, and bears.
SP
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