I have an admission story.
I grew up in a family and a supportive culture that did not involve a fascination or a need to have guns. But my small developing soul was drawn to play with cap guns, chaps and a straw cowboy hat; like most of the young boys my age. Bang!!!
The theatrical thrill of my well executed pretend dead falls, were as good in my mind, as any stuntman’s work in Gunsmoke, Roy Rogers (you name the spaghetti western) or the early 60s war show Combat. Later, in early Middle School years, an excitement for sneaking around the early evening edges of Capture the Flag and GI Joe reenactment scenarios, would plant a seed for me to dream of becoming a Green Beret soldier. Bang!!
Though in high school I had given up my holster, I continued to hold on to ennobled thoughts of fighting for my country, and playing in sneaky shadows with a rifle. But my best friend in college had just returned from combat in Vietnam, and his late night stories about the reality of war were chilling.
I became a viscerally passionate Vietnam protester. These “Fog of War” stories had destroyed any sensibilities I may have had about the rush of holding a dangerous weapon. Any possible interest I had in killing deer or repeating the trauma I had felt as eleven year old after shooting a bird in a tree with a BB gun, would disappear. I still remember the feeling I had walking up to the small beautiful robin on the ground with a hole in its’ head…and the blood.
After many years of marriage, kids and work, I possessed no firearms and gave no thought to what had happened to the double barreled shotgun my father had let me shoot a few unmemorable times in childhood. Bang Bang!!
But a few weeks after moving into the house my wife and I bought 12 years ago, she walked into the room holding a Colt 45 pistol by its’ butt. She wore a horrified expression that said, “wtf”. The gun was still in the stylish, almost Cow-boyish, leather holster that probably gave much pleasure to the previous owner who had sadly left his prized firearm on a shelf in our bedroom.
An odd rush of fascination returned to my psyche. It was a surprising return to the child-like excitement and adrenalin rush that holding an instrument of destruction elicits within the unthinking, primal, American male sense of power and confused protectionism.
I realized I had not confronted my own cultural conversation about our diverse gun language, and the consequences to our society. A trip to the local Gun Mega Mart led me to an ex-FBI guy behind the counter, and his explanation of why I did not need a 45 caliber pistol to indulge my dive into the understanding of any conversation about guns. The ammunition was just too expensive for target shooting.
In search of any actual empathy and understanding of the American armament dialog, I exchanged the Colt 45 for a more manageable Smith and Wesson 9mm. The experiment began with my feet apart, my ear protection and no training. Next, I felt the power of my first firing range trigger pull. This left my thumb, appropriately and profusely, bleeding as a result of poor hand placement. WTF….Bang!!!
I began to remember strange encounters I had had with people and guns. Never having been robbed at gun-point or threatened in any way in combat, all I had were small encounters like the one with my late shift motel front desk partner. She was a sweet middle aged bee-hive person. She showed me a small purse revolver that she said she would use to shoot anyone who approached her vehicle window upon leaving work late at night…point blank…no questions. And there was also a recent show and tell of a gun safe preformed by a friend that I greatly respect. It included every firearm from a shotgun, hunting rifles, military tools and a collection of hand guns that would make any pistol historian proud. These were confusing encounters.
I was experiencing a new abhorrence and fear of todays frightening gun culture.
After watching the sadly typical news coverage from Texas of the President, tearful media anchors and even an angry basketball coach at his press conference all expressing outrage at the evil in Uvalde, there was an impassioned Senator asking his colleges “What are we doing?” I was left with a deep empty feeling of Hopelessness and anger that we might not be able to do anything meaningful anytime soon.
The writing of this piece and the revisitation of my own experience leaves me with empathy for our human condition, but make me angry at those who immorally exchange courage for power.
As Senator Chris Murphy said yesterday, “What are we doing?”
For the sake of our kids in school, shoppers or worshippers….I Hope something!
Just not Bang Bang
This childhood retelling hits home with me. I literally experienced the same phases. My reintroduction into the macho world of firearms came late in my life, while working on an advertising account for a well known gun manufacturer in North Carolina. As partial payment for marketing ideas, we were each given a shotgun. I do not hunt, but kinda, for a while anyway, enjoyed clay shooting. The shotgun sits in its case in my closet, unused for many years now. I need to get rid of it, but I’d prefer to keep it here rather than send it out into the world uncontrolled.
I really appreciate your thoughtful words on this difficult matter. Thank you.
Difficult for too long! Thanks for reading, and you are correct to keep the shotgun tucked away.
Thank you, Hugh.
Senator Murphy’s question, although simple, was one of the most powerful I’ve ever heard. What ARE we doing? We can’t just Hope, we need to act. I have not given up on Hope.
I believe in the right to bear arms. I also believe we are in desperate need of reform! Gun reform as well as mental health. Strict laws and accountability
We need change. Now!
You could feel his authentic frustration!! Thanks for reading and your reply Lorraine
I was moved by your cowboys and guns blog. I imagined the redbird. I hurt for your younger-self. Thank you for sharing your fully-human experience of a plethora of emotions around this issue and an ending of compassion. What we are doing desperately needs to be revisited, because what we are doing is losing innocent lives.
Thanks for reading and commenting Doris!
And, we are, or have already lost our innocence.
I do not have children young enough to still be in school, yet I feel profound sadness, and fear every time a shooter decides to “solve” their issues by shooting in a school. I ache for the families of the victims, I ache for the families of the survivors too, because they will also never be the same. I also ache for the educators who are expected to use their bodies as human shields for their students should they find themselves in that horrific situation. My nephew, my cousins’ daughters, many friends’ children, and my own daughter chose teaching as their profession, not safety professionals. My son-in-law is now a school principal. Will he need to be the first line of defense inside the school should it happen there?
We fight over taxes, and social programs, and funding our schools and abortion. Why are we ALL not focussed on how to send every child and their teachers to school with the full expectation that they will all survive every day inside their school building?
Beautifully spoken Joan. Thank you!
Moving and provocative, Hugh. I have no experience with guns but feel deeply our country has failed us all, most notably the most vulnerable, with our failure to legislate gun safety. So sad. Thank you.
I am sad, but will try to move on to something more morally productive
I don’t know. There was an article in the NY Times yesterday that spoke of measures the federal government has already taken to increase school safety. Hiring, training, hardening are all financed. Had been done in Uvalde. Didn’t work there. Don’t work anywhere.
I can’t see that measures to control the availability of guns are going to work, even if they were politically possible. Nor would increased mental health care treatment availability…the perps would have to want to use it, and it would have to be 100% effective…
So what’s left?
I agree with your understandably fatalistic perspective, but my hope, without sounding too much like Pollyanna, is that we can at least move the needle with small incremental changes in laws and attitudes. We did not find ourselves in this gun culture over night. It, and the horrific sidebar results, has been here since we first established the questionable beach-head in Narth America by taking advantage of a culture that did not know what was coming. I think we have learned much, but have a lang way to go with this American experiment. The key to our future lies in adaptability and moral progress, not fear mongering and greed. The Gun manufacturers and their political protectors bear the bulk of responsibility!
Thanks Wally
There was no visible gun culture in our neighborhood growing up. I was aware that my father went hunting with his buddies every once in a while, and there was a shotgun somewhere in his closet. I remember having some fascination with BB guns, though I don’t think we were allowed to have one. When the first “high tech” slingshots came out, I filled the pouch with BB’s and shot at a tiny robin on a branch which flopped over and fell to the ground…. I ran away like a bear was chasing me!
I’m not against responsible gun ownership at all. But; the cultural identity with guns as a macho solution to violence and a defense against a perceived encroaching government, feels more like the end of civilization. There are certainly reasonable compromises we can make to protect life in this country. The common denominator in the gun debate seems to me to be greed…. gun manufacturers and politicians who benefit from their lobbying.
“Beware the military industrial complex…” Dwight D. Eisenhower
Thoughts and prayers are not enough!
There you go! Well said Brother Randy. “Thoughts and prayers are not enough!” indeed!
Thank you, Hugh. Well done, as always. We have nearly identical photos and even a video of Tom’s ” quick draw”. I learned to shoot at camp and really enjoyed it. I had hoped to go hunting with my dad, but he wouldn’t take a girl. When we were in Birmingham and living inside the city, I got a pistol – for coming home in the dark and having Tom at the hospital. That was a scary time. . I enjoyed shooting at targets but they were paper or in one case, cans. I don’t believe I ever could have shot at a person. When we moved to the suburbs, I turned the gun over to the police even though they said I should keep it. Must we follow the Second Amendment blindly? Why can’t we legislate and forbid ordinary citizens from buying assault rifles, etc? Of course, I also think we should reopen hospitals for the severely mentally iill – even though there will be some problems there as well. Any hope? A little.
This is one of those current and long term issues that is complicated and so controversial, that it is hard to have hope. But maybe there is a little to hang onto!?!