Author:
FUCK LEON HARRISON
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Date Posted: 23:53:52 08/15/09 Sat
In reply to:
Leon Harrison
's message, "My Ohio CCW license will cost me $73 [including their six-dollar picture]." on 18:33:12 08/14/09 Fri
>Oh, at the Montgomery County Sherriff’s Office, my
>Ohio CCW license will cost me $73 [including their
>six-dollar picture] but it is good for the next five
>years.
>
>
>Leon Harrison
>West Carrollton, Ohio
>
>
>
>
>>Leon Harrison
>>West Carrollton, Ohio
>>Wednesday, August 12, 2009
>>
>>To: The Editor
>>
>>Subject: The [cheap] gun that could have got me killed
>>
>>
>> “The gun that could have got me killed”
>>
>>
>> Notice to activist busy-body do-gooder child-loving
>>nagging gun-grabbing PAC-attack nannies: I do not have
>>children or an abused angry spouse, at or inside this
>>house, to either play with or shoot my unlocked guns.
>>Nor do I have many guests or visitors with kids to
>>discipline, instruct, watch or warn. On the night of
>>Friday, August 7, 2009, I successfully completed my
>>minimum twelve-hour training and competency
>>certification that are both necessary and mandatory to
>>obtain an Ohio Concealed Carry handgun license. During
>>four days, I took these three-hour classes at the
>>Miami Valley Shooting Grounds at Vandalia, Ohio.
>> Between thirty and forty or so years ago, I made the
>>mistake of buying a few cheap guns cheap, back when I
>>could have and should have bought some good if not
>>better guns instead; including handguns that might not
>>have made me dead, like that cheap little Italian
>>“Galesi”, a seven-shot .25 caliber semi-automatic
>>pistol, that I gave away last week. I intend no harm
>>or offense to the Galesi gun business or any of their
>>current or former employees or representatives! This
>>particular pistol and that 30-year-old ammunition may
>>have merely been old and dirty if not defective [like
>>me?]. I did not try to shoot the new ammunition with
>>this pistol for which I had purchased it for.
>> Like millions of my fellow [late-] middle-aged men
>>and a few of our female family members and friends, I
>>used to shoot; back before the end of the 20th
>>century, when we had more open spaces and safer places
>>to do so, before the plats, plazas, malls and laws
>>[suits] made it ever harder if not impossible or
>>illegal to hunt or to do much or such target shooting.
>>After my basic training [at Ft. Polk, La.], I never
>>fired an Army weapon. At Prum Post [West Germany],
>>inside the guard shack, we had one unloaded M-16 rifle
>>that was locked inside a glass-fronted red-wooden box
>>[for us to break into], after one GI guy pointed it at
>>a sergeant and dry-fired the trigger while playing
>>with it. I shot more military weapons while serving
>>with the Ohio National Guard. While I was a
>>[Greenville, Ohio] cop, I used to shoot a six-shot
>>revolver, during target practice and training, if only
>>because it was necessary and mandatory…and the .38
>>caliber ammunition was free for me. We also had fun
>>shooting shotguns at the Kettering Police Department’s
>>basement range.
>>It was about thirty-five or so years ago, when one of
>>my former coworkers [a former Vietnam combat veteran
>>and a now deceased policeman] sold me his Galesi, a
>>small black-steel pocket pistol with little
>>white-plastic handgrips. I cannot remember shooting it
>>or cleaning it. I am pretty sure that a younger [if
>>not dumber] Dayton Liberty Cab driver once carried and
>>concealed this small handgun; with which he intended
>>to defend himself from some of his passengers and
>>other dangerous strangers, in effect depending upon it
>>to save his life.
>>Almost twenty-eight years ago, after my arrival here
>>and my arrangement of this media-center existence
>>room, I placed this wooden end table with an item
>>organizer next to the right side of my recliners; with
>>my remote controls, calculator, movie guide, notebook,
>>pen, pistol and reference booklets within easy reach.
>>Every once in awhile, I would oil and wipe off this
>>little black pocket pistol that always seemed to be
>>clean enough for me. Occasionally, I would take out
>>the magazine to empty it and look at the bullets,
>>before racking back the slide to look into the firing
>>chamber. While sitting back and relaxing in my primary
>>chair, I would occasionally grab this little gun and
>>point it at my front door, located to my left and at
>>about ten feet to my front. I had and have better
>>bigger pistols scattered about the house. No, I never
>>shot at or with the cops, cowboys, criminals, secret
>>agents or soldiers who I have seen on my TV screen.
>>During the past nine years, I have been a Civil War
>>[Union infantry] reenactor: deliberately aiming and
>>firing black-powder rifles and my pistol [minus
>>bullets] toward but above and away from my
>>make-believe Confederate enemies and friends, again
>>and again and again. Until last Friday night, I
>>probably had not shot a bullet through a barrel since
>>the end of the 20th century, or for at least a couple
>>of decades or so. After my make-believe Civil War
>>battles, I would clean and oil my fun guns, if only to
>>keep them from rusting, instead of the modern ones
>>which I might really need to face and fight some real
>>aggressive dangerous deadly mean murderous people
>with.
>>Despite the unpleasantness of reality [being
>>late-middle-aged] and remembering my recent huffing,
>>puffing, sweating and shuffling along, while playing
>>and portraying the part of a teenaged Civil War
>>infantry soldier, I can still imagine myself as being
>>one of these young athletic energetic handsome healthy
>>action-adventure-thriller heroes; about whom I read,
>>hear about and see on my TV and movie screens. Most us
>>men want to safely and simply escape while we
>>fantasize about being one of those guys, imagining if
>>not really thinking that “I can do that!” We do not
>>want to consider, remember or otherwise think about
>>the writers, the stand-ins, the stunt-men, the
>>special-effects people or the film editors who make
>>them all look better.
>>Long before taking and completing my Concealed Carry
>>classes, last week, I was reluctant to carry a loaded
>>handgun, recalling and recognizing the potential risks
>>and [legal and civil liability] consequences of one
>>mistake that possibly could and should outweigh the
>>benefits of infrequent self-defense.
>>
>>Anyway, last Friday night [August 7], my classmates
>>and I were looking forward to our final two hours of
>>shooting, all of us having successfully completed our
>>ten hours of classroom instruction that had been
>>followed by a written test. Trevor Holtrey was our NRA
>>instructor, ably assisted by Jeff Miller. They had
>>instructed us and demonstrated the safe operation and
>>use of handguns. Trevor and Jeff answered our
>>questions about potential problems and scenarios,
>>including their personal and second-hand anecdotes and
>>experiences with our own, regarding minimum
>>requirements and the law. Most of this was and is
>>simply courtesy and common sense. Our handguns and
>>ammunition were ready and safely waiting for us inside
>>our vehicles outside.
>>We walked out of the classroom to go and get our gun
>>stuff, including ear and eye protection, either
>>borrowed or our own, and then went into the indoor
>>handgun range. The backstop is slanted steel plating.
>>The targets are moveable, via overhead steel cables
>>and control panels, to and for differing shooting
>>distances. Circular center-of-mass [NOT silhouette]
>>paper targets are attached to cardboard backing within
>>steel frames. I was on the right end of the firing
>>line and facing downrange, my little Galesi unloaded
>>and safely placed on my left side, laid inside a tray
>>in the plastic shooting shelf, with the [closed]
>>action visible to Jeff. Jeff was my coach for this
>>firing exercise. Trevor was watching the firing line
>>on the other side. We would start shooting at our
>>targets from a distance of 21 feet, the common
>>pistol-combat distance, which can, does and will vary
>>with the initial approach of the threat, of course.
>>“Okay, everybody ready? On my command, load five
>>rounds into your magazines…or revolver cylinders…,
>>rack back the slides to make them hot, and then fire
>>at your targets when I tell you to!”
>>Suddenly, I was awkward, clumsy and nervous because I
>>had not handled or shot this or any other such gun
>>during the twenty-first century!
>>“Make them hot! Fire when ready!”
>>“BANG!” First shot and I missed the entire target and
>>it was so close! JAM! DAMN! Empty brass shell casing
>>caught in the extractor port and holding the slide
>>forward!
>>“Rack it back and extract it!” yelled Jeff.
>>“BANG! BANG!” DAMN! JAM! Rack it back and try to
>>extract it! “BANG!” JAM! DAMN!
>>“Let’s look at your gun,” said Jeff, taking it from me
>>and extracting the magazine to look at the bullets and
>>at the action inside under the slide. “This gun is
>>unsafe and if I were you I’d quit using it and just
>>put it up and let people look at it.”
>>“Jeff, I have been depending on that gun for the past
>>thirty years!”
>>“When did you clean it, thirty years ago? Here,
>>Trevor, look at this gun.”
>>“Something’s wrong with it and it isn’t worth fixing,
>>I wouldn’t waste my money or time with it. I’d put it
>>up and just let people look at it. Here, you can
>>borrow my Walther PPK .22 to finish up with.”
>>So, I borrowed Trevor’s Walther .22 caliber
>>semi-automatic pistol and used it to finish this last
>>class with, thus demonstrating my competency and
>>shooting ability with it.
>>“BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! THIS IS A GOOD GUN!” It
>>felt good and solid and had nice white-spotted sights.
>>I soon had the feel of it and it all started coming
>>back, firing five rounds and then dropping the empty
>>magazine, to reload and shoot at and from different
>>distances, 7ft., 21ft. and 50ft.
>>“Now for some fun,” said Trevor and Jeff, smiling
>>while bringing our shot-up paper targets back in.
>>After taping round bright-orange clay
>>[shotgun-shooting] “birds” onto the center of our
>>targets, they sent them back to a distance of fifty
>>feet at the end of the handgun range, making them very
>>small targets.
>>“That’s right,” said Jeff, as I used my elbows for a
>>bipod, spreading and steadying them in a triangle on
>>the plastic shelf.
>>“BANG!...BANG!...BANG!...BANG!...BANG! Is everybody
>>empty and finished? Okay, let’s bring them in!”
>>“DANG! I missed it! I was wrong when I said that this
>>was a good gun! It couldn’t be me!”
>>“GET BACK! GET BACK! GET BACK!” Yelling at your
>>advancing aggressive target from a distance of seven
>>feet and giving it fair warning, and doing your duty
>>to retreat, before emptying your pistol into it. Could
>>or should you run, despite you having a gun and maybe
>>wanting to have some heroic and noble vigilante fun?
>>Quote Leon Harrison: “If you are far enough away to
>>aim your gun, you are far enough away to run.” After
>>your warning, fire away at close range, right at and
>>into the target in front of you: “BANG! BANG! BANG!
>>BANG! BANG!”
>>“Okay, that’s it, you all qualify. Take your stuff
>>back to your vehicles and come back to the classroom
>>to pick up your certificates,” said Trevor.
>>“Trevor, I’ll give you his Galesi, if you use it for
>>an object lesson. I’ve been depending on it for
>>self-defense for thirty years.”
>>“I’ll do that.”
>>“Okay, Trevor, and I’ll trade you three boxes of .25
>>caliber ammo for some .380s.”
>>“Sorry, I can’t find or buy.380s anyplace, but I’ll
>>trade you for some nine-millimeters and bring them
>>back to the desk.”
>>“Okay, it’s a deal. I’ll see you back at the desk.”
>>
>>Three MVSG NRA instructors and my fellow CCW classmate
>>graduates and I ended up bullshi, uh…convivially
>>conversing, standing around the front desk and the
>>entrance, we being proud and pleased after passing
>>this class that may have strained our brains a little
>>bit, but not enough to make us quit.
>>“Now, you guys ought to come back and practice because
>>you will lose your shooting abilities and agility,” we
>>were honestly advised and professionally warned.
>>Before leaving and driving away, we all said, without
>>making any promises, that, yes indeed, we all would
>>come back and meet and shoot together, someday real
>>soon.
>>
>>A day or two, after graduating from my CCW class, I
>>disassembled and cleaned my brand-new Ruger LCP .380
>>caliber six-shot semi-automatic pistol, even reading
>>the directions to do it properly. This may or may not
>>be the pistol that I choose to conceal and carry or
>>leave locked inside my little HHR car.
>>The other day, I inspected, oiled and wiped off this
>>shiny stainless-steel [30-year-old] six-shot .32
>>caliber H&R revolver, before placing it butt-up inside
>>this plastic desk organizer, atop my end table on the
>>right side of my lounge chair. Without a doubt, it is
>>a more dependable weapo, uh…handgun than the one that
>>it replaced. It looked clean enough. I could not
>>remember the last time that I had shot or cleaned it,
>>if ever, but I saw some black carbon at the back of
>>the barrel.
>>“WHAT AM I DOING?!!! I CLEAN GUNS TO SHOOT AT
>>MAKE-BELIEVE ENEMIES, BUT AM TOO DAMN LAZY TO CLEAN
>>THIS ONE GUN THAT I AM DEPENDING ON FOR SELF-DEFENSE!”
>>I emptied the cylinder and took it out into my
>>adjacent garage, whereat I and gave it a good cleaning
>>with solvent and a bore brush, before re-oiling it,
>>wiping it off, reloading it and putting it back where
>>it now belongs…a terrible tool to be used against
>>hostile homicidal fools.
>>
>>After getting my Ohio Concealed Carry license, from
>>and at the Montgomery County [Ohio] Sherriff’s
>>Department, I must invest in doing some target
>>practice. No matter how much money it costs me every
>>time that I pull a trigger, whether it ends up costing
>>me a dime or a quarter per shot, I still have to shoot
>>a lot; at least until I become familiar and proficient
>>with a few of my guns, if only for my own self-defense
>>if not for fun. I have a couple of boxes of 9mm
>>bullets that Trevor traded me and a pistol with which
>>to shoot them.
>>Paul D., unless or until I finally win one of these
>>[BIG!] lotteries, or find profitable but enjoyable
>>employment [or a wealthy aged 18-28 widow], I cannot
>>afford any more bad habits or hobbies. Recently, in
>>addition to my Civil War education and reenacting
>>activities, I have been stimulating the Obama economy
>>by buying new cameras, guns and reenactor stuff, all
>>of which one cannot really have enough of. Paul D., is
>>any of this at least tax-deductable for me or my
>>journalistic work for East Kentucky Magazine? All of
>>this relevant, if no longer romantic, research is
>>starting to hurt. I am glad that I no longer have any
>>or many honeys upon and with whom to waste, uh…lavish,
>>uh…invest, uh…spend, uh…share my money. I am also
>>unable to be as dumb as I was when I was young, having
>>less energy if not income, at least since I have been
>>retired and can no longer be fired…unlike the hungry
>>firearms that I now need to feed. Oh, at the
>Montgomery County Sherriff’s Office, my Ohio CCW
>license will cost me $73 [including their six-dollar
>picture] but it is good for the next five years.
>
>
>Leon Harrison
>West Carrollton, Ohio
>>
>>Leon Harrison
>>West Carrollton, Ohio
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