When I was a kid I was no stranger to guns—that is, toy guns. All kinds of toy guns—from cap pistols to plastic machine guns—but never actual BB guns. My mother was too much like Ralphie in A Christmas Story, afraid I’d shoot my eyes out!
Cap pistols were my very favorite. In my mind, much like Ralphie, with guns in hand I was a fearless cowboy, riding the lonely trails into the sunset. My horse was almost always an old mop. Sometimes my red wagon was a police car, and I was a sheriff or detective, always catching my man, always fearless. Ralphie’s imagination seemed to be fueled by radio—mine was fueled by television.
As an older teenager and young adult, I have shot a .22 rifle and a pistol, though you could count on one hand and have fingers remaining the number of times that I have shot any weapon. I have no interest in guns, though I do have an awesome respect for them. There has been a political push from certain persuasions over the past several years to implement gun control, with the opposition adamantly opposed to anyone who dares interfere with the Constitutional right to bear arms.
Just because I have no interest in guns, I have nothing against those who choose to use them for sport or protection. As was recently pointed out to me, a pencil in the wrong hands is a dangerous weapon. Conversely, a gun in the right hands can be a very useful article of defense or protection. Stereotypically, when guns and hunting are discussed, it is usually the male gender that comes to mind. What is perhaps a most interesting point to ponder is the interest females sometimes display in guns.
I found it amusing when a young lady who was a student of mine in Bible School told me about her later-in-life deer hunting adventures with her husband. I teased her, asking how such a sweet young lady—fine Christian, mother, wife, community member—could shoot such a sweet innocent creature as a deer. I termed her “Bambi Killer” from that day forward.
Another tale that intrigued me was my cousin Bertha Jones. Bertha and her husband retired from life and work in Knoxville to the “Thomas Holler” (now Black Fox Hollow). They built a log cabin on six acres that once belonged to my paternal grandfather, James Lafayette (Fate) Mincey. After Bertha’s husband John died, she continued to live alone on the property.
One night she heard someone trying to break in on her. She said she raised up as quietly in the dark as she could and reached inside the top drawer of the chest next to her bed. She sat on the bed and waited for her unexpected, unwelcome midnight visitor(s) to get inside. She said she waited until he/they (maybe her?) got to her bedroom door. She then yelled ‘BANG!’ and shot in their general direction. She said it didn’t take very long for them to go back the way they’d come.
When Grainger County law enforcement came to investigate, it turns out Cousin Bertha had shot a hole in the wall just at the top of the basement stairs that were on the other side of her bedroom wall. Cousin Bertha said the sheriff of Grainger County later sent fresh bullets for her gun and told her to take better aim the next time.
When I was courting/dating (whatever it’s called these days), I left my future bride’s house one night after dark. I got perhaps half a mile to the top of the ridge and my car stalled. This was in the days before either of us had cell phones. All I had was a beeper, and that was so she could find me. I risked death by dog attack to get back to her house. The dogs never attacked me, but they growled at me and followed me with great interest. I kept reminding myself, as Arnold Schwarzenegger said in Kindergarten Cop, “No fear.” I didn’t run, though I was sorely tempted. I certainly didn’t say, “Here, doggies, nice doggies.” I tried my best to ignore them, hoping they’d return the favor.
Unmolested, I made it to my future bride’s back door. I knocked. No answer. I knew she was there—I’d left not thirty minutes earlier, and her vehicle was parked where it was when I left. I knocked again, and hollered, “Mary Ann, it’s me. My car broke down at the top of the hill.” Finally the door cracked half as much as the chain would allow. When she determined it was indeed me, she asked, “Is anybody with you?” I thought to myself, “No. If there had been anybody else I’d have had them take me home.” I reassured her that I was alone. When she peeked out and made sure I was telling the truth, she opened the door and let me in. As I followed her down the hall, I saw a gun in her hand. I was to learn later that it was a .38. I said, “What are you doing with that gun in your hand?” She replied, “You could not have been who you said you was, or somebody else could have been with you, making you get me to come to the door so they could kill me.”
You might assume from this that my intended was paranoid, but sadly, that very circumstance happened some time earlier not very far from where she lived.
My wife still has that .38. Her son recently told her to be very careful with it, because it was an older gun and does not have a safety on it. Should she drop it, there is a possibility that it can go off if it falls “just right”.
The moral to this story is—if you want to rob a house, don’t come to mine. My wife just might drop her .38 in such a way that you might leave in pieces! I know her well enough to say that I wouldn’t risk it.
Dear Reader, I leave you with more thoughts shared with me via email, as well as the Question of the Week and the answer to last week’s question.

Want to stop drunk drivers from killing sober drivers?
Ban sober drivers from driving.
That’s how gun control works.

"This election . . . will be the most important in history. You have nothing to worry about unless you are a taxpayer, parent, gun owner, cop, person of faith, or an unborn baby!” --Louisiana Sen. John Kennedy

I saw a movie where only the police and military had guns;
it was called Schindler’s List.

ANSWER TO QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 3
What do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? A THESAURUS.
QUESTION OF THE WEEK # 4
What do crooks see through? (See next week’s article for the answer.)