You’re Fired
I was not raised around guns but that’s not to say that I don’t have experience with them. In fact, I enjoy target practice very much even though I haven’t been to a turkey shoot in years. My sons are gun enthusiasts also and now that they are over eighteen my oldest has purchased himself a Mossburg 500, 12-gauge shotgun. I think he made a very good choice and I’m especially pleased that it is entirely made in the United States. I still prefer my Remington but that’s probably sentimental, it has good memories attached to it.
Since Richard bought the shotgun he hasn’t had a chance to fire it and the last time he and his friends went shooting he left it at home because he didn’t have a case to carry it in. Oregon state law says you can carry it in the trunk of the car but it has to be in a case, either soft or hard. This past Friday he finally bought a case and Sunday they headed out to find a new range. Some thirteen miles east of Seaside, they stopped at what they thought was a good site. They spent a little over an hour changing up weapons and ammo, firing at different types of targets and at a variety of distances.
John, his friend’s father came along and brought his Taurus revolver and his AK- 47. The AK-47 is a selective-fire, gas-operated assault rifle, first developed in the Soviet Union. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AK-4) It’s well known for it’s reliability under most any condition. I’ve seen these rifles submerged in mud and water and still fire without jamming or incident. Accuracy is a different matter altogether. After the first time it’s fired, it loses accuracy and is really only effective at close range, within 350 to 400 or so meters. The only other guns they had with them were a couple of .22 rifles.
John recently bought a high-powered scope with night vision that I’m sure cost him a pretty penny. Given this gun’s problems with long-range accuracy, I’m not sure why he invested so much money in a scope when it isn’t likely to help improve that problem. I personally would have invested in a McMillan Tac-50 sniper rifle. Yes, I know that’s over-kill, so to speak, but putting a long-range scope on a short-range rifle is like putting a racing cam in a Volkswagen. IMHO that is.
Now, I don’t want to turn this into a rant about the details of weaponry, so I’ll come to the point. Richard has a ton of respect for John; he’d better, he’s dating his daughter. So, when came his turn to fire the AK, he squeezed off only a couple rounds and the new (expensive) scope came off in his hand. Richard said that he was sure John would use him for target practice but of course that wasn’t the case, John just needed to tighten it down a bit. Watching the video they shot you can see Richard with a worried look on his face as he removed the clip and handed the gun to John.
Do you feel it coming? …wait for it.
As John prepared to reset the scope, he rested the barrel on his left foot and…
BANG!!!
Yes indeed, there was a round in the chamber. He said it didn’t hurt, in fact he told everyone that it felt like a rubber band being snapped on top of his shoe. Boy was he wrong. The AK-47 had gone off by itself, he never touched the trigger.
There are moments that define a person and for Richard, this was such a moment. It seems he takes after his mom for more than just his impulsiveness, he handles himself quite well during emergencies. He got John to the car and then the hospital where the emergency room doctor cleaned and dressed the wound, which was about an inch or so down from the left small toe; one of the few places in the foot where he avoided major structural damage and the pedal artery.
The Oregon State Police and the Clatsop County Sheriff were notified as is the law regarding gun shots. They came to the hospital to investigate and write a report. The officers told them that where they were shooting was a state park, not a state forest and directed them to a couple local areas for the next time. They brought him home and medicated him heavily. He’s a lucky man. That gun could just have easily been pointed at Richard or any one of them.
Late last night Richard and his friends came over and we watched the video tape they made of the afternoon. Ironically Stephanie turned off the recorder less than ten seconds before John was shot. She said that she couldn’t tell if she was angry at her dad’s lack of safety measures or afraid of what might have happened. Either way it was a very traumatic experience for her.
Watching this footage over and over again I saw many incidents of lax safety measures. First of all, the shooting line was not clearly marked. Second, guns were being loaded well behind the line and not in one designated location. Third, John tucked one of the .22 rifles under his arm with the barrel of the gun pointed behind him. I know this because Stephanie was shooting the video and it was pointed directly at her. Fourth, when he was handed the rifle he never checked to see if it had a shell left in the chamber. Richard said he felt responsible because he didn’t clear the action before handing it over. He has a point and I’m glad he felt the weight of that error but in the final analysis, when you’re handed a gun it is your responsibility to double and triple check and even then, to keep the business end pointed in a safe direction.
I am dismayed and troubled by what I saw in the video. The people I love were put at risk by stupid mistakes that are so easily avoided. It takes only one mistake to change everything, turning an afternoon of fun into a horrible tragedy.
I am reminded of the first and most important lesson in gun safety: Empty Guns Are ALWAYS Loaded. Had this been presumed John would still have a whole foot. I will give Richard some time to process the events of Sunday and then we will have a conversation about gun safety around other people. It’s one thing to follow a strict set of safety rules and quite another to enforce it universally. But now is not the time for talking, it is the time for reflection and a prayer of thanks that no one was killed. Hopefully this will forever change the way John conducts himself while handling his weapons and will serve as a reminder to the rest of them about the very real risks associated with this pastime.
© Kathleen Ryan-McCullough, 2011
~ About Me ~
About Me?…hmm, always a tough place to start. I hate to be boxed in, labeled and pegged. I am more than my age, marital status, occupation or religion. I have unique qualities that can’t be summed up in tiny phrases. I am more than a collection of blurbs – I continue to be work in progress.
I’ve always been impatient, stubborn and above average in charm, smarts and sarcasm. I have not left some misspent youth behind me that I need recovery from; in fact, I hope I never recover. My mother believed that you are only as old as you feel. That being said, there are days I feel like having the temper tantrum of a 4 year-old and the next day I feel the better part of a century dragging behind me.
Getting Personal:
I am of Irish and Swiss decent, although I recently discovered the Swiss connection. I have been married twice, fortunately the second time took. I have 4 adult children, 4 cats who are all sisters and one supremely beautiful 5 year-old German Shepherd. I live on an island in the middle of the Columbia River.
Life here on Hayden Island can be quite noisy. We are in the glide-path for Portland Int. Airport, so planes, including F-15 fighter jets from the 142nd Fighter Wing of the Oregon Air National Guard take off and land day and night. The mighty Columbia River is 150 yards to my north and conveys all types river traffic, so fog horns are common. The Interstate 5 bridge is one of two bridges that cross the island. The other is a railroad bridge. Both are modified to open for boats and both bring their own unique noise. The interstate bridge carries over 140,000 vehicles every day and the railroad bridge sees about a dozen trains, including two crossings by Amtrak. All of these lead to a cacophony of noise that eventually fades into the background on any given day.
Not all the noises are man-made, in fact some of the most beautiful and haunting sounds I’ve ever heard have come from the many birds who nest here year round. There is also a protected area of wetlands just south of the island that are home to many thousands of birds. Canadian Geese flock in such numbers their honking can even be heard over the train whistles. One of my very favorite birds, the Osprey, nest right off shore atop the old pylons. Each morning during the spring and early summer I listen to their piercing calls as they hunt and teach their young to fly.
It is busy island, full of life’s hustle and bustle; so if it’s quiet you want, this probably isn’t the place. Having lived here 17 years, I have to say that I am quite content to call this piece of earth, my home.
I have spent months dithering about what I would blog. After several false starts and repeated bouts of angst, I’ve decided to simply write about whatever comes my way. Writing has always been healthy and productive outlet for me and now, in our digital world I can publish without worrying about pleasing some editor. Don’t get me wrong, I do hope that what I produce is worth reading and that it has value beyond just me.
While you’re here, if you should feel the need to leave a comment, be my guest. In turn if you have nothing to say then feel free to say nothing. Thanks, I’m hoping that you enjoy what you find here and that you will stop by again soon.
…That’s ~About Me~ for now!
Wading Barefoot 