Not to join or align with the media blood dancers, but if you have a kid who is known to be an occasional whackjob, why in hell do you let him have access to firearms? I don’t know what the exact details were, but I do keep hearing he was living in a house where firearms were laying around. <\/p>\n
When I was a kid, you gun-proofed your kids, you didn’t kid proof your guns. If you had kids incapable of learning, you kept the guns elsewhere. <\/p>\n
I always knew where dad’s guns were. He kept them in the closet behind his suits, in their cases. Had I ever taken one out for ay reason I might as well have shot myself with it, because that was gonna be preferable to what was gonna go on when he got home. <\/p>\n
One night when the rents were out on the town, we had kids prank calling, and they graduated to knocking on the door and then throwing things at the windows, breaking one. I turned off the lights and grabbed dad’s 870, loaded the tube, and chambered a round. <\/p>\n
I figured i was gonna get a beating when Dad got home, but i was scared. Plus my sister was in the other room sleeping. SO I sat in the living room in the dark while dirt clods and rocks pelted the house, shivering like a dog shitting razor blades. When Mom and Dad pulled in the driveway I was relieved, and only slightly dreaded the upcoming asswhipping. Dad took the shotgun from me and emptied it. He put the shells in his pocket, and put the gun back in it’s case, and we all went to bed. I figured the asswhipping had been put off till the next day, but it never came, he never said a word about it after that, ever. <\/p>\n
That has flavored my attitudes about a lot of things since then. Eventually it dawned on me that he knew I knew where the guns were, and he trusted me to do the right thing at the right time. Had I not been trustworthy he would have kept me from having access. <\/p>\n