Posted on 03/05/2018 6:01:04 AM PST by NRx
A few months after my father left our family home for good, my mother heard me screaming in the middle of the night. It was the kind of scream that made her grab her rifle in one hand and some ammo in another.
It was a spring night and I was sleeping with my window open, which was right above my bed; I loved breathing in the fresh air. That night, in that open window, I heard the banging of a ladder, and by the time my mother made it into the room and began loading her gun, a man was about to climb in.
She said something along the lines of: “Bethany, come over here. I don’t want you to get his brain matter on your face.” I backed up behind her and my mother raised her gun. The would-be intruder slowly backed down the ladder. As he climbed down, my mother approached. The barrel of her rifle was inches away from his face and she told him, “Next time you come here, I won’t hesitate.” She had her gun pointed at him through the window on his way down, and as he went down the ladder she grabbed the top and shook it, just to put the fear of God into him one last time before he fled.
My mother admired Ralph Nader and voted for the Green Party candidate during every presidential election I walked into a booth with her. There was not an issue on which she was not the most progressive person in the room. And yet, she owned guns.
They weren’t “weapons of war” to us, nor were my parents “gun nuts”; they just had a camper trailer in upstate New York, where bears were common campfire intruders...
(Excerpt) Read more at nytimes.com ...
Has the NYT snapped or something? Guns cause global warming.
Kinds worrisome when it starts out by grabbing a rifle in one hand and some ammo in the other. Thinkin’ tryin’ to load up in a crisis situation might be a problem. Especially with those long rifle bullets. If was bigger than a .22. But, yeah, in the nyt? WTH?
With that said, at my place we keep several loaded in various parts of the house at all times.
I loved this post. What a wise mother and, now, wise daughter.
My dad was an NRA instructor in the 50’s. He taught all us kids how to shoot rifles. He repaired and, I understand now, made some, too. We treated our guns almost reverentially though they were never left to be “easily picked up in every room of the house”.
I have retained that reverence. They are beautiful, as beautiful as pieces of sculpture can be. The care with which they are milled and put together is amazing. And a good gun with small kick and very accurate is a godsend to smaller and weaker than men women.
I have a concealed carry permit and have been shooting for years. My only real fear about guns is not that trained people will shoot them, but that untrained emotionally immature people will use them irresponsibly.
I do not think emotionally damaged people whether by genetics or by actions of man should be allowed to buy guns. And I do not think there is a test, per se, that will necessarily identify them. But I do think tests can give a hint but then talking with that person and getting written affidavits from friends and families might help to identify them. After that, I truly think it might be a crap shoot.
I do know that people who are familiar with guns and the people who shoot them have a good eye for people who shouldn’t have them. Maybe people who sell guns have that eye if they are also competative shooters. It might be worth investigating.
Should have pushed the ladder sideways at least.,
Well, after reading it, it comes across confusing to me. Somehow she’s a conservative but gets attacked by the (non-existent to me) alt-right for her views? The cops have ZERO responsibility to protect individuals. The community? In general, yes but don’t expect them to appear at an instant notice for help. As far as believing the left will ever compromise? Nope. They want it all and they want it now. I give it a fail. But that’s just me.
That might have damaged the side on the house. A little Lysol cleaner can take care of blood and brain matter inside the home, but trying to match the color of paint or siding that’s a few years old after you’ve had to repair the exterior...
;-)
Hmmmm. Shouldn’t the object at the right side of the cartoon be an evil AR?
“Our side insists that people are the problem, not guns, and to make good on that we need to come to the table with ideas on how to keep weapons out of the hands of dangerous individuals...But it is a middle ground for gun-rights supporters and gun-control activists to meet.”
If the author REALLY thinks there’s a table out there that both sides will sit down at and come to some “common sense” solution...I’d like to direct her to that bridge just up the road in Brooklyn. It’s for sale.
Ditto.
I’m not suggesting the author is fabricating the story, but I wonder if she’s leaving out an important fact that explains why things happened the way they did ... like maybe the intruder wasn’t a stranger.
On second thought, could it be a case of “lib lies”? Kinda like stolen valor. Yeah, we were nearly victims too. Was she 3 when it happened? Starting to smell as time goes by. And, anyone that supposes getting “permission” for a firearm isn’t tedious in NJ is nutz. I’m sure those strict gun laws in NJ are keeping Jerseyites safe at night.
This story is being done from memory many years old, so she could be using just a bit of artistic license to make it more interesting.
She wrote:
After my first child, a daughter, was born I must have printed the paperwork required to obtain a gun permit in New Jersey a dozen times. Despite what many may think, the process is not simple nor is it quick, which led to my procrastinating for several years.
Regarding her age when the events described occurred, I have some vivid memories of certain monumental things that happened in my when I was 2 years old, so I have no problem believing she might remember an event like the one she described - especially since it probably became part of their family lore.
Yeah, that’s what I thought I got from the article so were there pro Trump “nazis” targeting her for criticizing Trump? Anyway, hope things go well for her.
We lived on Guam when I was two (1949) and I don’t remember squat. LOL!
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