Gun Control is a big topic today. Americans are divided on gun control and conceal and carry laws. Criminals and terrorists challenge our way of life. Recently, one frightening incident caused me to personally research the Second Amendment. Did I need a gun? Was I really safe?
The doorbell rang. Swinging open the front door, I found myself facing a 280 pound, six-foot six stranger. He offered me a friendly smile. Before I could
retreat, he began to described his product—a brilliant glass cleaner.
“Hey, Pretty Lady. Today is your lucky day. I created a glass cleaner that does not streak, spot, or smudge. And today, just for you, it is on sale. Your front
door will sparkle.”
As I stepped back to close the door, he placed his foot against the jam and squirted the liquid on the glass. My heart raced. He would soon have access to
me. I pressed with all my might, but his strength was unbending. It became obvious that selling the product in the 3-ounce squirt bottle was not his main objective. He forcefully
pushed the door open—one powerful tap at a time.
“I don’t buy products at the door. Please leave.” My breathing grew shallow. Why had I opened that door?
“Look, Lady. You must try this just once. You will be a customer forever.” He scowled.
Suddenly, from down the hall, I heard my husband–with the voice of strength and protection. “You heard the lady. We don’t buy at the door. You leave or I’ll call the police.”
The stranger stepped back, raised his hands in the air to signify surrender, and strolled off the porch.
That evening, my husband and I discussed security and firearms.
“Honey, if we get a gun, you must not fear using it. People who can’t pull the trigger, if necessary, are often killed with their own gun.”
“I understand.” The experience that day made it clear, I had to protect myself. But could I really kill another human being? I needed more information.
We enrolled in a conceal and carry class given by a twenty-year Police Officer. He stressed gun safety and introduced the class to the Federal gun laws. At the end of the seven-hour