Skip to comments.Amarillo By Morning (Smith and Wesson on My Mind)
Posted on 05/28/2012 4:22:33 AM PDT by Kaslin
I never travel without a loaded gun. I usually carry a Smith and Wesson Model 640 in a bucket in the trunk of my car. Sometimes I carry a Glock Model 23 instead. I was really happy I was carrying the former when I arrived at my hotel room in Amarillo last week shortly after midnight. As I was unpacking my trunk, a man came walking across the parking lot from an adjacent hotel. His largely incoherent introduction began something like this:
Hey, Im a big scary black man and I need some help. Wont nobody help me cause Im a big scary black man. I aint gonna hurt ya (pulls out wallet). See? Heres my ID. Im a preacher and I got kicked outa my room. I aint no beggar. I just need $12 or Im gonna have to sleep in the parking lot. Im stayin right over there (points to adjacent hotel). Theys a woman and a child thats gonna have to sleep in a car if dont get $12.
I detected a slight stumble as the man was walking toward me talking. It took very little insight to detect that he was no preacher and that the money was not needed to pay off a $12 balance in order to get re-admitted to his hotel room. So I turned back toward my trunk and continued unpacking.
The final part of my unpacking ritual involves securing my firearm, which I always take with me into the hotel room. I always reach into the bucket, take the gun out of the holster, and slip it in my pocket on my left hand side (I m a southpaw). It just so happened that the stumbling preacher was approaching from my left hand side and could see my hands clearly as I was unpacking.
Shortly after I secured all of the items from my trunk, the stumbling preacher shouted, Oh, mercy! Cant a black man get a break? He threw his hands in the air and then turned around and walked hurriedly towards the adjacent parking lot. I had substantially more than $12 worth of cash on me that evening (actually it was early morning). I made it to the hotel room before I had to pull either the wallet or the gun out of my pocket.
The man who approached me in the parking lot that evening did three things that I consider to be morally reprehensible. Although he did not split a single infinitive, his actions are worthy of condemnation for the following reasons:
1. He invoked race where it was irrelevant.
2. He falsely claimed to be a member of a noble profession.
3. He pretended to be acting on others behalf while he was acting in his own selfish interests.
Fortunately, I have been a handgun owner since 1993. I also obtained my concealed weapon permit in 1997. At no time since then have I been robbed or assaulted. Nor have I even had to fire a shot, point a gun, or verbally threaten a person to secure my safety.
My experiences as a handgun owner have been no aberration. States passing concealed carry laws have seen significant decreases in predatory crime. Academic studies have also demonstrated that these decreases are statistically significant even after controlling for variables that might otherwise explain the reductions in crime.
To date, there have been 16 refereed studies that have concluded that violent crime goes down as a result of concealed carry laws. About 10 refereed studies have shown the results of concealed carry laws to be inconclusive with regard to violent crime. No refereed studies I repeat, zero refereed studies have shown that allowing citizens to carry concealed weapons increases the rate of violent crime.
Sadly, most of these refereed studies have been conducted by economists interested in cost/benefit analysis on matters of public policy. I used the word sadly because the question of the effects of gun laws on crime is a matter that falls squarely within the discipline of criminology, which is a branch of the larger discipline of sociology. Yet criminologists and sociologists generally shy away from the issue. Their inactions are worthy of condemnation for the following reasons:
1. They invoke race where it is irrelevant. Too many social scientists ignore citizens legitimate concerns over their safety and well-being. Those who would like to carry a gun lawfully are often dismissed as having an irrational fear of people or color.
2. They falsely claim to be members of a noble profession. In addition to avoiding doing research on gun ownership, most social scientists are not familiar with the results of studies on the topic. To ignore science and hold oneself out as a scientist is simply wrong.
3. They pretend to be acting on others behalf while acting in their own selfish interests. Sociologists are opposed to rape. But they are overwhelmingly opposed to concealed carry laws that reduce rape. Clearly, they have decided that they are more interested in preventing an assault on their worldview than in preventing assaults on innocent women.
Put simply, the time has come for these social scientists to stop acting like bums and become productive members of society. It may be true that they have families to feed and nowhere else to go. But we cant keep giving them handouts forever.
South Peoria, Illinois has been high crime for at least 50 years, so I know you're not talking about that Peoria, plus the fact that it's nowhere near I-44.
South Peoria street, Tulsa, Oklahoma. I-44 is also known as the Skelly Bypass.
Had a brain fart while typing the response.
A gun “in a bucket” in his locked trunk may as well be a gun left at home.
I carry mine in my center console where it is within very easy reach (unless I’m wearing one of my shoulder holsters).
Back in the 90’s my wife had taken the kids to spend a weekend at the beach. On Saturday night I took my bike to the park to watch a baseball game. After the game as I pushed my bike toward the sidewalk so I could ride home
three hispanic gentlemen grabbed me and hustled me into some bushes nearby where they proceeded to kick the snot out of me. I was over sixty years old and out of shape so I assumed a fetal position and tried to protect as much of myself as possible. One was kicking for my groin while another was trying to kick me in the face. The third kept pulling at my hair, trying to get my chin up.
I screamed like a little girl until a couple of ballplayers came running over with baseball bats, chasing my new “friends” away. After making sure I had no serious injuries a flashlikgt was brought out to search for my glasses. They were found - unbroken - and also a small, very sharp knife. That’s when I realized the guy trying to get my chin up was planning to cut my throat!
I spent most of the next two years staying home. I didn’t realize it at the time but I was afraid to go out and risk another, similar encounter. When I did figure it out I bought a gun and stuck it in my waistband. I didn’t bother with a permit - I just carried my gun everywhere I went. And yes, I did go back to baseball games in the park.
All went well until one summer day when my wife wanted to take some of the neighborhood kids to the local pool. She didn’t want to leave her purse in one of those flimsey lockers so I was going to take it back home. As I waited for her to bring it to me the wind blew my shirttail up, revealing my gun. Someone called the police and soon I was staring down the barrels of several Glocks and hearing shouted commands to keep my hands in plain sight.
After getting my gun taken away I was transported to the local lockup and held for several hours before being released in the small hours of the next morning.
Weeks went by and I finally ended up in court where I had been charged with not having a permit to carry concealed and of carrying a loaded weapon inside the city limits.
The first charge was thrown out since the gun hadn’t been concealed (they could see it, couldn’t they?) but the lesser charge was upheld. For it I suffered the loss of my gun and had to take a four-hour gun safety course at a local firing range. I also bought another gun and continued to carry it wherever I went. I continued to carry it until my hands became so screwed up from arthritis that I couldn’t draw it safely.
During all that time the only times I ever drew the gun were when I had to answer a knock at the door in the middle of the night. The first time, I opened the door to see a police officer standing there. I simply reached up and set it on a bookcase and continued talking to him. The other time I saw someone out there I couldn’t identify so I kept it behind my leg while I opened the door. It turned out to be a neighbor asking about a noise he had heard.
This is a long-winded way of telling everyone that carrying that gun was one of the best things I ever did for myself. Not only did it give me a sense of safety but it taught me to be a lot more responsible in my dealings with others. I actually think that carrying without the blessing of the state kept me more aware of what I was doing and why I was doing it. Obviously I cannot recommend that everybody do the same but I’m not sorry for what I did. Your mileage may vary.
when my Pit came running to check the guy out. He was prettified and backed away, asking me to keep the dogs away from him.
Your dog gave him a makeover?
Some years back a 20-something guy posted that he was pretty much of a hothead - until he got a CCW and carried. He realized the burden he took on and mellowed out. When he carried he never told his wife, under the theory that he didn't want her, in a tight spot, to yell "Honey, get your gun!". He said that she mentioned how happy she was that he had suddenly "matured".
Haha Rocky was well capable of ripping him a new one if need be- that's fo sho. Rhinoplasty was in order for that interloper and something of a specialty for my boy.
‘I wonder how many jurisdictions would call that “brandishing?”’
Quite a few.
If they make a mistake and do that to a law-abiding citizen they could get in trouble.
For a time I was working a part time telephone job in a bad location, the business has moved since then. One morning I pulled up at the old location and as I stepped out of my F-150 I saw a typical panhandler type who was walking across the parking lot turn toward me. He walked straight toward me at a fairly rapid pace, he looked to be in his thirties, about six two and healthy, not the sort you normally want to have approaching you. I am an old man but I am big, six four and around 260 pounds and I am not fat. Ordinarily I would have felt very uncomfortable because I did not have my weapon in my pocket as I normally would but that day I was in a rather strange mood for some reason. I stopped, looked straight at him and he started some BS approach, asking me how I was doing as if he knew me. By then he was about ten feet from me. I asked him in a very grouchy tone what he wanted and he stopped in his tracks and started speaking very politely as he turned and walked on the way he had been going before I pulled up. I don’t think he liked the look in my eyes. I was already thinking that if necessary I was going to see if I could drive the heel of my hand straight into his nose and stomp on the arch of his foot at the same time. I figured that if I succeeded the next thing I would need is a good lawyer and if I didn’t who knows.
I suspect that his game was to approach in a such a way that most people would be intimidated by his size, he could see that I was bigger than he was but also twice his age or more so he figured I would rather give him money than take a chance but he changed his mind. Panhandlers used to be unknown in this area but they are becoming more and more common.
Well....I am 6 inches shorter than you and about 70 lbs lighter. I don’t have the same intimidating presence, which is probably why I get approached by strange people more often than I’d like.