[Charles Martel]

When I was in high school, some kid threw a rock at my pickup. The little bastard was standing there on the curb, just feet away from my path of travel in the far right lane, and he was holding a golf ball-sized chunk of rock or concrete. I saw him throw it, as though in slow-motion.

Lucky me, the thing hit my right-side A-pillar, just between the windshield and side window. I mashed the throttle to the floor and hit the nearest u-turn, headed back to teach the boy the error of his ways. Too late, he'd hit another car that had been following me. That driver just leapt out on the spot and could be seen already a block away, chasing the kid and waving a tire iron. I often wonder if that kid made it home alive.

[ccmay]

“That driver just leapt out on the spot and could be seen already a block away, chasing the kid and waving a tire iron.”

That’s exactly the same way I was cured of the habit of throwing snowballs at cars at the age of 13 or so. If we hadn’t been on home turf on a hillside covered in deep snow, I do believe he might have caught us.

Throwing anything at a car, especially a rock that could go through the window, is life threatening. The crossbowman may get off for self defense if he can convince the jury he ws in fear the kid would throw another.