For those who own firearms, safe storage is essential. You would not want your 3 year old to have access to matches and gasoline. You would not want a criminal to have access to your car keys. Guns are the same way. Proper storage techniqes (along with gun-safety training, and good gun-handling habits) can help avert a tragedy.
For many children and adults, guns are a matter of curiosity. They are unaware of (or even worse, unconcerned by) the inherant danger of firearms. They may act out scenes they've seen in movies or on TV. In this case, disaster is close at hand.
Criminals want to steal your guns. They are a symbol of power, and an easy way to victimize the un-armed. In a worse case scenario, a criminal may access your unsecured weapon and turn it on you or your family.
For many children and adults, guns are a matter of curiosity. They are unaware of (or even worse, unconcerned by) the inherant danger of firearms. They may act out scenes they've seen in movies or on TV. In this case, disaster is close at hand.
Criminals want to steal your guns. They are a symbol of power, and an easy way to victimize the un-armed. In a worse case scenario, a criminal may access your unsecured weapon and turn it on you or your family.
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I'll see if I can think of a way to tell it, so as to protect the identities of the innocent (actually, they weren't exactly innocent,....mostly just stupid). It's a long story, and if I can't think of the best way to tell it here, I'll just PM you.
A couple of my young ( early teenage) female relatives were into some very stupid, immoral and dangerous activities. They did a LOT of drugs (of any and every kind), ran away frequently, got into a car with anyone, and were VERY naive (or simply didn't care) about the dangers of the "darker side of life" .
We were on a trip out west (Colorado), and one day they met up with some older guys who were willing to share their stash. The stuff must've been laced with something because the girls became violently ill. They got scared of the guys and ran away. They told their cousins about what happened but it was kept secret from us 'adults'. The next day, one town away from the previous incident, the stuff REALLY hit the fan.
I was at the hotel with my wife, grandmother and the two youg sons. Two of my cousins busted into the room crying and hollerin'. They said "They've been taken!! I don't know if they were kidnapped or went willingly, but they're in the car with those "crazy dopers". We couldn't stop them."
I ran to the car with my two cousins (because they could identify the vehicle), jumped in and headed to the center of town. Fortunately, it was a LITTLE town, and I caught up to the vehicle at the liquor store. Looking at the whole situation, my "intuition" told me they were actually in a very dangerous situation. I pulled in tight so they couldn't get away. I grabbed the pistol I had under the seat, and jumped out. The girls were in the bed of a Jeep-like thing, and I ran over and yanked them out, one at a time by the hair of their head. I smacked them on the back of the head (I NEVER EVER EVER hit girls, but this felt like a life and death situation), and yelled at them to get in my car.
This guy (or maybe it was a REALLY butch dyke), jumped out of the Jeep-thing, and yelled, "Hey, you can't do that....You can't take them!" I lifted the pistol and said, "I've got the gun, and you don't, so I can do whatever the @#$** I want, so shut the @#$%%** up and get back in your vehicle!" He/she complied. (BTW- I also don't use bad language, but once again, "life and death"....)
We sped off, (burning rubber, and sliding through the curve) back towards the hotel, with me yelling at them, and the girls crying, and the other girls (my cousins) screaming for me to slow down.
When we pulled up at the hotel, a local cop pulled in behind me. He got me out of the car (with a gun to my head), and cuffed my hands behind my back with my face down in the dusty gravel road. My wife came out with one of the babies, and I told her to get him back in the room, as I didn't want him to witness the mayhem.
First he questioned me in his car. I started with, "You may not believe this, but I have a very good explanation for what just happened". He said "You better." Then I told him EVERYTHING. He said, "That WAS a pretty good explanation, now let me just make sure it's the truth."
Then he got the girls out of the car, one at a time, at gunpoint, and questioned them.
He came back to his squad car and said "Your story checks out. You know, you probably saved those girls lives. I've only been on the force here for six months, but I know those people they were with. They are BAD characters. They were probably going to take the girls up in the mountains and....Well, just be thankful you got em back."
He gave me back my pistol, and said, "Hey, every cowboy's gotta have his shootin' iron. Here's yours. But, I have to keep your bullets, it's the rules." I said, "That's OK, I've got more in the room." He laughed, shook my hand and said, "Don't hang around town too long, they might pay you a little visit." I looked at my gun, said "That's OK, we're leaving in the morning."
Then I gathered up the girls and herded them back to the hotel room.
As and epilogue:
One of those "troubled teens" is now a beautiful young woman. She is brilliant, happy, sober, and graduates from a fairly prestigious university later this year.
The other is dead. After years of drugs, crime, and incarcerations, her demons finally finished her off. I preached her funeral three years ago next month.