Quote:
Originally Posted by SSJup81
I've gotten along fine all these years without having access to a gun or being around one. I know others too in the same boat.I don't agree with hunting either, unless it's for food purposes. I don't agree with hunting for sport.
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Here is an interesting story.
Years ago I used to live in Southern California, and I often liked to take my old 4X4 Blazer up into the San Bernadino mountains or the Mojave desert to get away from the city.
While returning from one of these trips, I decided to take the old Route 66 instead of the interstate through the Cajon pass. Route 66 is more or less abandoned for most of it's length, but long stretches of the road still exist. I liked driving along the old highway and looking at the old buildings and motels which are commonly found alongside it. There are few-to-no cars on the old highway anymore, which was another reason I liked to use it.
As I was driving down the highway on this particular day, I saw a man walking alongside the road carrying a gas can. He heard me driving up, and waved me down, I stopped and offered him a ride to the next gas station, which was 5 miles or so up the road.
He seemed like a nice enough guy, and there was nothing at all suspicious about him. I stopped at the station, and he filled up his gas can as I filled the tank to my Blazer. He then asked me if I would mind giving him a ride back to his car. "Sure" I said.
The drive back was quite a ways, 7 or 8 miles. He pointed a turn-off on the ride side of the highway which led through a gap in the trees. Sure enough, there was an old Pontiac Firebird parked there. There was someone sitting in the passenger seat of the Firebird.
As soon as I put my Blazer in "Park", the man quickly reached across and turned off the ignition switch and pulled out the keys. As he did that, the man sitting in the passenger seat of the Firebird jumped out of the car and came walking up carrying a large piece of pipe.
I looked at the man in my Blazer, and then I quickly turned my head toward the windshield. He turned his head to see what I was looking at, and as he did, I reached down next to my seat and pulled out the pistol I kept there. I quickly pushed the barrel of the gun against his face, and he raised up his hands and began yelling "don't shoot! don't shoot!".
By this time, the man with the pipe was near my door, but he froze when he saw the gun. I told the man in my Blazer to drop my keys on the floor, and to slowly open the door and step out. He did as I said. I told him to close the door, which he also did. I then locked both doors, and keeping the gun pointed at him, I reached down with my other hand and picked up my keys.
This was in the days before cell phones, so I drove all the way back to the gas station and called the Sheriff's Department. It took nearly 30 minutes for the deputies to arrive. They followed me back to where the Firebird was parked, but it was gone. However, the pipe which the other man had been carrying was laying on the grass.
I don't want to think about what would have happened that day if I hadn't been carrying a gun with me. Here in Japan I have no need or desire to own a gun, but in America I feel it's almost essential, depending on where you live.