Posted on 07/05/2005 10:00:25 AM PDT by vannrox
GLAD SHE HAD HER GUN
by Elinor Dufy
My gnawing guilt about owning a handgun faded as quickly as the determination on the face of the burglar as soon as he noticed the blue-steel Smith & Wesson .38 caliber revolver in my hand.
The young man, armed with an ice pick, had forced his way in my apartment and was waiting for me-even though he had heard me come down the stairs and had had time to get out.
When he saw the gun, the burglar became a sweet young boy pleading for forgiveness. After all, he was only a youngster, he only wanted a couple of dollars, he had never been in trouble before, wouldn't I please let him go-and, oh, please, please, don't call the police.
I wondered how courteous he would have been if I had come downstairs empty-handed, with just my tiny poodle at my heels.
As he stood in front of me, pulling nervously at his white gardening gloves, I thought of how the night had begun.
I had been at a Filmex reception hoping to meet a producer or director who might be interested in reading my script. But there were only animators and cartoonists there, and I found myself fading fast, so I drove quickly home for some much-needed sleep.
Less than two hours later my dog woke me with his loud barking. I was so angry that I scolded him harshly and was ready to spank him. He cuddled up next to me in a tight little ball as if asking for protection. He kept on barking, not toward the window, but into the apartment.
I knew that I would have to investigate if I was to get any sleep at all.
I turned on my bedroom light, all the time talking reassuringly to my dog. "What's wrong? What do you hear?" He jumped with pleasure when I got up and started down the stairs.
Suddenly, I stopped. Why, I still do not know. I turned back and got the gun that I was embarrassed even to admit owning. As if hiding it from myself, I hid it behind the folds of my white flannel gown.
Midway down the stairs I stopped. The television and everything else in the living room were in order, the front door was securely locked, all the cabinets in the kitchen were still closed, the downstairs bathroom seemed empty. I could not see the sliding glass door at the rear of the apartment.
"Go get it. What are you after?" I asked the little creature. He looked at me, wagged his tail and sat down. He was not going to move. I walked him through the downstairs to prove that nothing was wrong. There he was, in the bathroom, a shadowy 6-foot figure with the shiny weapon in his hand. Fortunately, I was barefoot; he had not heard me approach. He was startled and that gave me enought time to step back and raise the revolver.
"It's cocked. All I have to do is pull the trigger. Don't move."
His larcenous or lethal plans seemed to disappear in one deflating gasp. He was not going to take any chances with his life. I would not have to shoot him.
"Please let me go. All I want is a couple of dollars."
The kitchen light was on.
"Please don't call the police."
The telephone was in my left hand.
"Please let me go."
Go where, I thought. To the next apartment. One with no dog to wake anyone. One where guns were not present. The phone rang twice before the businesslike voice came on, "Lennox sheriff's office." A torrent of words burst from my mouth.
"Ma'am, we can't understand you." I took a deep, steadying breath and said slowly, "There is a burglar in my apartment. He is five feet away from me. I have a gun on him." Then there was a jumble of activity from their end of the line.
A woman with a low soothing voice got on the line. "Here is the suspect?-Make him lie on the floor.-Whatever you do, don't hang up.-A car is on the way.-The officers are looking for your apartment.-How can they get in?"
All this time the young burglar was using the technique taught in so many rape-prevention classes, mine included. He was trying to engage me in pleasant, distracting conversation about me, about my apartment, about my dog, about where he lived. And wouldn't I put down the gun, at least quit pointing it at him?
My hand was shaking so badly that I was sure he was afraid it would go off accidentally. But that gun was making the difference between a standoff and what?
(Betty, a woman in my rape-prevention class, had been raped while her assailant held an ice pick in her ear. Myrna had found someone in her apartment and had been knocked unconcious and robbed. Sandy had cowered in her locked bathroom hoping someone would come home before the intruder found her. And another woman had leaped from her second-floor window onto the asphalt below to escape her surprise visitor.)
I rested the telephone between my ear and shoulder and used my left hand to steady the gun.
As he talked I visualized a red glow around him. (Perhaps I was preparing myself in case I had to shoot.) That thought collided with the memory of signing a petition to ban handguns, of planning to sell my gun. I had never been able to understand why I had purchased the damned thing. I had even been embarrassed when I became a near-perfect marksman at the practice range. I was so against killing that I had almost ended a long relationship when my friend crushed a spider against his office wall.
I quickly pushed away all these thoughts and focused my attention on every move my uninvited guest might make or even think of making.
A light appeared through the front window. "We've found the place."
Two streaks of blue came over the back fence and into my apartment. My vision suddenly collapsed to a narrow tunnel. I saw the handcuffs go on the "suspect". I saw my hand holding the gun toward the earth outside the back door. I saw another hand gently show me how to uncock the gun.
I heard voices praising me for how well I had handled the situation. (What choice did I have?) I heard the young man objecting. He was only trying to show the officer where he was hiding his knife. (That, too?) And I heard the officers complimenting me on my choice of gun.
There followed icy silence and icier thoughts. What would this fledgling gun control advocate have done without the gun? What if I had bent to my landlord's wishes and gotten rid of my dog?
It was not until the sky turned a pale gray-blue that I was able to sleep again. When I woke I decided to go back to the gun range and practice.
Works for me! LOL
Some other suggestions class gave was setting up a room that can be used like a safe room as much as possible. Having your weapon and ammo there, a phone that the line can't be cut through, flashlight, even house keys on a glowstick for the police to retrieve easily when you drop it down to them, and a solid door like oak or some special material that stops or slows down bullets. Can't recall what the material was, but it sounded like the same thing used on bullet-proof vests and very expensive to boot.
I will do a little bragging and say I have unusually quick reactions. I can always grab the dollar bill before it drops between my fingers and very few can do that.
I do remember one time when I was a kid, playing cops and robbers and was holding my cap gun on a friend. He surprised me by grabbing it before I knew what happened.
For that reason, I will never let a threat any closer than I have to.
When I worked for Civil Service, we were given some very basic self defense training. Our trainer was a national champion is some types of Japanese martial arts which I don't even know what they are.
Anyway I remember him saying that he would not try to overpower or take a gun away from an opponent unless he was sure the guy was going to shoot. Now if a person is dumb enough to let someone with reach, then they probably would be too slow to react.
To each his own. However, you might want to get a look at my subsequent posts for a bit of clarification on my position. :)
It all comes down to one thing... know what you are going to do before hand. Living in Texas, I am well within my rights to assume that anyone moving about INSIDE my domicile without my permission to be there is fair game. Get a clear eyeball on them, front sight post, steady squeeze.
Still doesn't beat being in a defensible position with a load gun and your finger on the trigger. A gun right there in your hand will always be worth more than a dispatcher on the phone.
Nope. I disagree. She did just right. Furthermore, she does not have to live with a guilty conscience because she shot someone.
Yep, you're right. And that was my point. You don't know if someone is in the house, but they may become aware that you are walking about, looking for the "noise."
Personally, the few times I had nothing for self-defense and aware that someone was about outside, I damn near panicked. (Even a little goofball knocking on our doors at night not too long ago just about sent me in a tizzy.) After getting handguns, I have walked around the house if I hear noises.
However, watching that video recently of a burglar shooting the owner who was checking up on noises about gave me a heart attack - how many times have I done that myself? So now there are extra precautions, like locked windows and such, so if someone tries to get in the house in the first place, it will, hopefully, be pretty obvious to me.
So darn many scenarios a person has to prepare for. Trying to figure out the "what ifs" now instead of later.
Read and understood. A guy with a weapon in a house he knows is occupied should get shot immediately when encountered.
Oh yeah, absolutely agree with you there! LOL Besides, it sounds like the gun and ammo are a lot cheaper than whatever these bullet-proof doors are made of! (I don't believe it was kevlar, though... Sorry, I simply can't remember what it was.)
Thank you for posting this wonderful article, vannrox! Another excellent example of a responsible gun owner defending their life and home.
One thing I noticed in reading the comments on this thread was that no one mentioned the fact that although a gun and a dog is your best line of defense, this woman came very close to making a dreadful, and potentially life-threatening mistake.
She said, "Less than two hours later my dog woke me with his loud barking. I was so angry that I scolded him harshly and was ready to spank him. He cuddled up next to me in a tight little ball as if asking for protection. He kept on barking, not toward the window, but into the apartment."
This woman's first reaction to her barking dog was not an uncommon one. She was first angry, then scolded him, then was even ready to spank the poor thing. If she had spanked him, and he had finally given up with barking and decided to just hide under the covers, the outcome could have been a deadly one.
So another important lesson learned in this story is to listen to your dog(s). Sometimes they might be pulling your leg, but rather than take a chance, check it out.
And don't try to clear a house by yourself
"And don't try to clear a house by yourself"
Good point! Years ago when we lived in a two story home with a narrow stairwell that led to the upstairs, my husband instructed me that if an intruder broke in and I was upstairs, I should NOT go downstairs but rather take my stand at the top of the stairs. At least I only had one area to focus on then. The bottom of the steps. And talk about a good shooting gallery. A load of buckshot, a stairwell, and you can't hardly miss.
Either way, one person can't sweep a home on their own and still watch their backside. Works great on t.v., but not in real life.
OK...but I still say, to each his own. :)
Depends on her state of residence. It would have been legal in Texas and several other states. Based on the cops reaction, this might be one of them.
However, the .38 is not a super good man stopper. Without really good shot placement, she might have just made him mad. The way it was it sounds as if he was about to wet himself, assuming he didn't when he first saw the gun.
You have the right idea. Eliminate the threat then think about what you could have done!
Please remember - the Akita knew her assailant and was probably confused. Especially if he had seen fights and feuds previously.
sp
The author of that article has a (very good) school in Los Angeles where he has this "knife attack" system. (Link is here: http://www.internationaltactical.com/index.asp)
Sometimes 21' is OK from the holster, but sometimes it isn't. The slightest little hitch with your draw and you'll be too late. Much harder at night. Anything under 10' is problematic from low ready. And forget about trying to run your mouth and get good hits on the guy at the same time.
And from 5', well, chances are that the bad guy could stick ya even if you hit him square in the chest.
well it's the 'red glow' which is giving him away, hummm, recall reading somewhere in some religious text of a religous sect, it's the sign of satan.... sounds like some of my ex's family members!
I see your point but we weren't there, she was. I trust her judgement.
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