My brother-in-law, a retired police officer, said I was facing the ultimate decision.
Could I shoot to kill?
Recent home invasions in the Puget Sound area, where thugs entered random houses and terrorized occupants, changed my mind about a hot topic. For the first time in 53 years, I yearned to have a gun on my night stand.
Are you gasping? Are you smiling? I knew that gun ownership pushed a lot of buttons. My brother-in-law, Leri, pointed out the big question. If I bought a weapon to protect myself, could I really aim it at an intruder and pull the trigger?
Yes, I think I could. If someone entered my home to do harm to me or mine, I am sufficiently fed up with criminals to take aim. My sister, Vicki, had to decide after her first date with Leri if she wanted to go out with someone who packed a weapon.
She learned to shoot and respect gun ownership.
"How do you live with yourself after someone violated you?" she said. "They don’t have any right to do that. They know the risks. Do you think they would do that more if they thought everyone had a gun?"
Her husband recommended I go to a firearm shop and sort through different weapons.
"Put them in your hand and feel them," Leri said. "If it reaches a point where you are in fear of your life and you want to shoot someone, you shoot to kill and stop the threat. You don’t want to wing somebody."
Yikes. He’s right. You have to be ready to shoot to kill, or a rapist could take your gun and shoot back. I better follow Leri’s instructions. I went to Sam’s Gun Shop in south Everett and looked over the merchandise.
It was freaky because every Sam’s worker wore a gun and holster in case of a robbery. I had never been in that sort of environment. Range officer and salesman James Braa, 25, offered to show me the ropes. He was on the rifle team at Everett High School.
Nervously, I reached out and gingerly brushed the first weapon as if it were a prickly hedgehog. I had never held a semiautomatic gun. One revolver looked like my old Annie Oakley model with six spinning chambers to hold bullets.
We went into a long, narrow shooting range where Braa went over some basics. I learned about the powder charge, primer, stance, sight alignment and posture. He showed me the backstop behind the hanging target with shredded rubber piled to cushion shots.
We practiced snapping triggers with empty guns. I held tight, one thumb over the other, and leaned slightly forward as directed.
"OK, let’s get some bullets," Braa said.
I waited in a sweat.
He guided me 10 feet behind a bull’s-eye target centered with an X. I planted my feet, unlocked the safety, tried to site down the barrel and drew the trigger back like the pop top on a soda can.
"Wow," I said. "It’s so loud."
Startled at the force, the butt of the Kahr 9mm semiautomatic pistol left a reddish imprint on my palm. With a dart-player’s pride, I landed a shot just outside the smallest circle on the target, but had no interest in reliving the jolting experience.
Braa brought me a Ruger Mk. I .22-caliber long-range semiautomatic pistol. I liked the feel and sound. I plugged the X from 10 feet away, then fired a few bullets from 20 feet back.
I blushed when Braa told another salesman I was a dead-eye. If I bought a gun, I should practice and be ready to fire several times at a moving person.
"Figure a minimum of three shots," my brother-in-law said. "I know it sounds ominous, frightening and overwhelming. There is nothing more severe than deciding to take someone’s life."
Leri said it is up to each individual to decide how far they will go to protect themselves. That is why I took a test drive at the firing range. When I squeezed a trigger, I made a crisp hole in a paper target.
Would I aim at a heart or face?
I hope I never find out.
Columnist Kristi O’Harran: 425-339-3451 or oharran@heraldnet.com.
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