For the Anti Firearms Crowd, Countryside Terrorism.
Quote:
Gunshots reverberating enough to rattle windows in the middle of the night are a rude way to be awakened.
There are countries, and even neighborhoods in this country, where this happens regularly, even nightly — but not in my neighborhood. My neighborhood is usually a peaceful valley filled with the sounds of birds singing, dogs barking and, this time of year, lawnmowers humming. Until last week, anyway.
Living in the country means hearing gunshots during hunting seasons, but the sound of weapons being fired still rattles me to the core, no matter what time of day or year. Usually, I can successfully convince myself that it is indeed overzealous hunters, and I keep myself and my animals safely inside until the shooting stops.
Recently, though, I've been hearing gunshots more regularly, and I resent the intrusion upon the peacefulness of country living and the questions those shots raise regarding my personal safety.
But even the increased frequency of gunshots didn't prepare me for what happened last week. In the wee hours of Wednesday morning, I began hearing gunshots, rapid gunshots, non-stop gunshots. Before I could call 911, the authorities called me to make sure I was unharmed and to tell me they were aware of the situation.
I was as safe as I could be inside my house, which at the moment didn't feel safe at all. I admit it; I was scared more than I may have ever been before.
The gunshots continued for some time, and I began to get a slight glimpse into what it might be like to live with this kind of peace-shattering threat on a larger scale. There is violence in such acts, even when the intent isn't to be violent. But the fear of violence can be almost as damaging and disorienting as the act. Maybe fear is more violent because our imaginations about the unknown run wild, filling in the blanks.
During those few hours, huddled on the floor with Sam the dog, as instructed by the sheriff's department, as far away from windows and doors as I could get, I began to understand the violence of fear. I understood terrorism — which feeds on this to-the-bone fright, apprehension and horror — on an entirely new level.
Not knowing what was going on, what might happen next or what was unfolding around me, those shots had my heart racing, my adrenaline pumping and my prayers for the safety of all of us in the vicinity pouring out as fast as I could say them. I couldn't be happier to report that the neighbor with the guns was eventually caught and that for the time being, peace has returned to the valley — thanks to the men and women of the Jefferson County Sheriff's Department.
I'm hoping my sense of safety will eventually return, too, because if it doesn't every terrorist, every person who attempts to intimidate, threaten or harm another wins.
I'm not about to let that happen. Not in my neighborhood.
Source, click the souce and read the comments.
I live on the edge of podunk and hear gunshots daily, I dont duck for cover nor do I live in fear. Then again I didnt move to the sticks because Im paranoid.
ETA: I slept through a fire fight before I moved out here.
