A young man never forgets the day his father tells him to check out the new gun he keeps under his pillow at night, walking in his room, picking up the pillow, and it’s an AR15.
Growing up, guns weren’t a big part of our lives. My father bought me a BB gun when I was 8 years old, and we set up balloons, paper plates, or coke cans in the backyard to destroy. But that was pretty much it. He never owned guns, at least not to my knowledge, but he was a staunch Conservative so I knew what his views were on the subject.
Though it did come as a surprise to see what I was seeing, when I was expecting maybe a titanium hammerless revolver or something that he’d mentioned in passing. I had never known anyone with what he was already referring to as an “evil black rifle”, nor seen one in person up until this point.
It was 1999, and he had just run out to the gun store at the 11th hour to buy a rifle he wasn’t going to be able to buy after the new year; he along with everyone else who was paying attention at the time, which led him to paying close to $1500 for his soon to be banned rifle. He said the state wanted it to be registered as an assault weapon or he’d go to bed on a December 31st and wake up January 1st a potential felon, his only crime being that he wouldn’t do what the state told him to do.