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.
She should have shot.
Guns and dogs = man or womans best friends when both are ready.
So, some lib judge will find an excuse to cut the perp loose and next time he'll have a gun of his own. Should'a shot him while she had the chance!
Nice story, I enjoyed reading that.
Such a well written first hand account.
Must reading for all undecideds.
Thanks for posting it.
sp
She should have shot..my sentiments exactly. If he had an ice pick in his hand..dead man. Course I could also find an icepick in my drawer later.
molon labe, baby.
"She should have shot."
Intruder in apartment with weapon.... she could have reasonably argued that she feared for her life and acted prudently in ventilating the bastard.
I hope all FReepers are armed.
Unless I'm mistaken, there are many places in this "free" country of ours -- Chicago, for instance -- where she'd have been hauled away in handcuffs for possessing a handgun.
Good story..But I woulda shot the little ba$tard.
A good story with a good result, but she really should have fired. I've known hardened criminals who, facing an armed polieman, have offered and then attempted to put the officers gun where only a proctologist could find it. One should NEVER count on the sight of a firearm deterring a criminal-it only has to fail once.
If only a tiny % of these vile creatures are put down, the rest will stay at bay.
Shoot them.
I thought she did well. Personally, I would have a really hard time "ventilating" someone unless they were attacking me, or making a move to.
Of course, by then it might very well be too late, I realize that. OTOH, since the dude wasn't offering any resistance...I just see no need to burden myself with the weight of killing another person, even a criminal, under those circumstances.
Just my opinion, of course.
good story, and I'm glad she has seen the light, but notice her hypocrisy. She was/is a gun control advocate (for others), but yet had a gun of her own. How condescending, how Rosie Odonnellish
ping
Guns Over Democracy
Washington Post ^ | 7/4/5 | Editors
She's lucky she had a firearm, but even luckier that the guy was a complete and total coward of the most pathetic description.
A veteran crook might have disarmed her.
*Ping*
I'll take choice #3: Move. Leave the leftist hell holes to the leftists.
Good article. She did everything right.
Had she fired, she would have had a whole new set of traumas to deal with.
Ping for a good read!
Semper Fi
My .02 is that a burglar with an ice pick and a knife is more than just a burglar.
Lennox, Mass?...
Bump for a later read.
"I hope all FReepers are armed."
Not allowed to be...BATFE made sure of that for me and my family...
As I said...the dude wasn't offering any resistance. Maybe he had something else on his mind, but was too cowardly to follow through once she pointed her gun at him.
I would have to go with what my gut told me at that particular time. IMO, it's best to pay attention to your instincts, and risk being wrong than to ignore the warning in favor of politeness, or whatever.
If the dude was standing there, unarmed, but I got a weird vibe from him that convinced me that he was going to try to put a hurt on me, I'd probably shoot. If a guy standing there with an ice pick DIDN'T give me that vibe, I wouldn't shoot. FWIW.
no matter what his size.
When danger threatens,
call on me,
and I will equalize.
This used to be on the trigger guard of Cold revolvers.
Good story...
GOOD STORY~!
One comment about the Ice Pick, its used to enhance the perps sexual assult not necessarly to stab her, that is what the knife was for they found......
Very good point....it's the TV syndrome..."stop, or I'll shoot"..good survival rule is if you feel threatened enough to take out the weapon, cock and aim it, then shoot first..apologize later if necessary..especially if the perop's inside your apt with a knife in hand...while the lady may be a crack shot at the range..the first time in a high-stress situation..fear and adrenaline running..she'd be lucky to hit him at 5 feet..and if she was 5 feet away, she was way to close..
You are right- I hope she spends as much (or more) activism time telling her story and fighting AGAINST the gun control that would have probably left her dead.
That's called the 21ft rule. A person (bad guy) can theoretically cover 21ft faster than you can draw and fire.
Part 1: Edged Weapon Defense: Is or Was the 21-foot Rule Valid?
PART 2 (Hit print this article to read)
More training is a good thing. She was lucky he didn't try to rush her.
More than just a Hollyweird movie plot device, it is a very real question. The riddle of steel is that the hardest, sharpest, and most skillfully crafted steel is worthless without the will to wield it.
This author had enough will to wield the steel, to refuse to be a victim, but not enough to take another's life. I can't say I would have done the same thing. It isn't a matter of restraint, but the level of violation I would feel about having someone break into my home and threaten my family. I would have had no compunction over ventilating the perp first, then calling the authorities to come clean up.
Thanks, I will read it after I pick my son up from school.
Amen, Grampa Dave. My first line of defense are the best dead bolts I could affort on all my doors. My second line of defense is a monitored security system. My third line of defense are my dogs. Up to this point the intruder can walk away with his/her life. My final line of defense is my gun. I will shoot without asking questions and let God sort it out.
, "There is a burglar in my apartment. He is five feet away from me. I have a gun on him."
Have a friend take a felt marker (icepick), stand five feet from you and see if he gets to you before you pull the trigger.
I'll come to your funeral!
Interesting article.
Granted, she shoulda ventilated him BEFORE alerting him to her presence.
"Surprise! Your DEAD." -Faith No More.
Damn, the "what if's" got to me and brought tears to my eyes. It's good to hear someone could ask herself after the incident "what if" they had listened to the gun grabbers and didn't have that equalizer to defend themselves with. That really reenforces just whose responsibility it is to protect herself.
My guess is that she is completely questioning all the idiotic political positions she's ever had in her life.
Including and up to the fact that they guy will go free. One of her neighbors, as a result of the courts, will likely have a similar experience, only one without the dog and the gun.
BTTT
In prison more cons are killed by ice pick type weapons than shanks. They are good for the straight kill and will go through almost everything and you dont have to worry about slashing yourself when they get slick.
I think you misunderstood that post (#29). Given the circumstances the lady was in, she did well.
I would have done the same thing, if I felt the perp wasn't going to try to hurt me, ice pick or not. However, I wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger if I felt in danger of my life, whether or not the guy was armed. I would go with my gut...and doing that has served me very well in the past. I've not had to shoot anyone yet...or even throw a punch, for that matter. (A good thing too, since I am a rather petite gal) LOL
No offense, but I'll listen to my instincts rather than the advice of others, no matter how well intended.
If that sucker won't drop the icepick when I demanded him to the first (and only) time, he goes down! I am stunned how even a target moving STRAIGHT at you is so hard to hit, and it's on top of you in NO time flat! VERY scary!
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