Monday, August 16, 2010

the old me

For about a year in high school, I was part of the Willoughby Police Department's Law Enforcement Explorers. I had been interested in forensics since middle school and thought that this explorer group would give me a chance to learn more. Unfortunately, we mostly just sat in a stuffy room, half-listening to a cop talk to us about cop stuff, none of which I can recall today.

For most of the kids, the highlight of the entire class came on the last day - a trip to the police range for a chance to shoot a gun.

But I sat alone in the classroom that day, hiding my fear behind a bluster of "guns are bad" rhetoric. It was years before I regretted it.

7 comments:

Eric said...

But you're here now and that's all that really matters.

Sorry about the Facebook question, I knew the answer as soon as I clicked the button.

Anonymous said...

That was the old me, too.

(Not being a cute high-school chick. At least I don't think I was. Probably not, according to my wife.)

Mike W. said...

Quite the transformation I must say!

Cowboy Blob said...

I was a Law Enforcement Explorer too! We were sponsored by the local National Guard MP Battalion, so we got to ride jeeps around town and learned radio procedures, how to swing a riot baton, and even how to field strip a .45 blind-folded. We got to shoot on their indoor range once, with .22s only, and deployed with them to Fort Indiantown Gap for a weekend of drill. We played OPFOR for a riot exercise.

We also played disaster victims for an exercise where I got my first ambulance ride.

After all that, I decided to go into the military first and wasn't happy with any of the options available to me, so I picked Intelligence instead of LE.

Stuart the Viking said...

My oldest daughter was raised by her mother in Illinois in complete ignorance about firearms. Her mother was surprised when she found out that I have guns, let alone the fact that I have a cary permit. Sometimes I can't believe that woman was ever actually married to me.

My two younger daughters live down here in Florida, also with their mother (differant mother), but I get them all weekend, every weekend. The 3 year old doesn't notice at all yet, but to the 6 year old guns are as normal to her as the coffee table. She knows not to touch them and to come get daddy if she sees one, and she takes that seriously (I don't push it though, I am careful that she doesn't have access to them).

The other day, the 6 year old walks up and in an exasperated ways says "Daddy, why do you have TWO guns out?" HA! I was busy sewing a holster for the .45 and since I was also checking the holster fit on me, my regular carry 9mm was also sitting on the table. I don't think I will ever have to worry about my younger daughters ever going the "guns are bad" route.

s

John B said...

the mark of a great person is the ability to admit to a mistake....

Probably said is some form by either Lincoln or Twain!

wrm said...

But guns ARE bad!

I mean, you get one, and a box of ammo maybe, and you go shoot the damn thing, and then you're out of ammo, so you go buy some more ammo, and while you're there you see another gun, and before you know it you have ten guns and lots of ammo and no money for food and your kids are destitute on the streets and you end up selling your *slap* OK. OK. I'm OK now.

Wonder if I have enough ammo...