Here's the old thread which was auto closed due to six months of inactivity.
This is a discussion on Reviving an Old Thread for the New Year within the Concealed Carry Issues & Discussions forums, part of the Defensive Carry Discussions category; Waaaay back when I first started on this board, back when it was COMBAT CARRY in December of 2004, one of my very first posted ...
Waaaay back when I first started on this board, back when it was COMBAT CARRY in December of 2004, one of my very first posted threads was:
Have You Ever Been A Victim? Thanks to JD, I will use the opening of that original thread as the opening in THIS thread since we've gotten more members since then. I'll even post something new.
A lot of the folks who ccw come to the practice unnaturally. Usually via some traumatic event, the most common being victimized or knowing somebody who was victimized. That's what this thread is for. It helps all of us to know that we're not alone in this. Maybe you screwed up and got taken by surprise. Then, it wasn't a screwup, though. It was ignorance. Tell us anyway. Everybody can learn from the experiences of others. How many of you have ever been the victims of a violent crime? How has this affected your world outlook, and your current status as a CCW permit holder? In other words, did you come to gun ownership and ultimately to the practice of concealed carry as a result of being victimized in the first place? If so, did you go to the extent of seeking real training and or joining a shooting club like IDPA or IPSC to further your skills (both shooting and tactical)? Or, did you learn from "Dad" or daddy's friend "the cop?"
If it's not too traumatic can you give us a thumbnail sketch of the incident? Include whether or not the crime was completed or you were able to escape or resist. If it's painful, don't bother.
I am excluding all childhood bullying and victimization for obvious reasons. So don't relate what happened in the schools, unless it was serious and required a police report or hospitalization.
As the OP, (in both cases) I should go first but I have not much to relate as it pertains to carrying a concealed firearm. Yes I was bullied as a kid, but that's not the reason I started ccw. I learned how to defend myself hand to hand long before I was even close to being of age to go further than fisticuffs. Of course one of the first things I learned is NEVER actually use your "fists" in self defense. But that's another thread. I was drawn to law enforcement first as a career and later that morphed into being an army officer.
My best friend (who is still my best friend today) taught me to handle a handgun, was a year ahead of me in high school and he went in the direction of army ROTC. After several detours I followed him to the same university and the same group of buddies and a new mindset when it comes to life, death, peace and war.
Back then, almost every senior cadet in Army ROTC at the University of Alabama (Tuscaloosa) had a State of Alabama Concealed Weapons Permit. Issued by the local sheriff for a (IIRC) $5 fee. We routinely carried on campus and into classrooms. I don't recall the official policy of the school at the time, I only knew that firearms were forbidden to be possessed in the dorms. So I moved off campus with two other cadets. We ALL had permits. We were all tracking into the "combat arms," and had by this time gotten some rather extensive army training. But we carried in class, often. A lot of our seniors had been to the US Army Ranger School and had their "Black and Gold Tabs" already. I never felt safer than when I was in their company. I still carried. So did they. They always treated me as an equal. The Rangers and SF guys who constituted much of our training cadre, showed us many new techniques hand to hand, handguns and M16 that had been applied in the real world. So the event that drew me to ccw was as natural as breathing. However, I learned something far more precious after obtaining my first permit. That is that nobody is invulnerable to crime. Not 24/7.
A small bit of backstory first. We were all hard partying college guys. BAMA was almost a "professional party school." Consequently all our spare money went to beer. It was not unusual for one of us to come staggering home to our small 3 bedroom house we rented just off campus, dead drunk. Once, this happened but the transgressor tried to NOT wake us up in the middle of the night. So he comes inside the home. What is the single most common feature in all college guys homes? If you said stacks of empty beer cans and empty pizza boxes you'd be correct. EMPTY BEER CANS. So our drunken and hence uncoordinated roomie comes in and starts knocking over the cans and making noise. With each noise, he whispers SHHHHHHHHH! SHHHHH! (like he's talking to somebody else) Now everybody in the place is awake and that would include more than the male full time occupants of these strapping college guys. He makes one more sound and the OTHER roomie calls out "WHO'S THERE?" Drunken buddy freezes and is quiet. Big Mistake. The next sound is two slides being racked back. Sudden screaming: "DON'T SHOOT! IT'S ME!!" That still gives rise to some giggles in the retelling.
Then there was a time when we were ALL blotto. Passed out. Cold. Hey it was a dress rehearsal! We were gearing up for a major party and we wanted to get things right. Well, we woke up the next morning to discover a couple of things: #1 We'd all overslept and missed our morning classes. #2 We'd been robbed in the middle of the night. The precious items stolen was all our booze for the party! Think of this, about eight cases of premium Bourbon, Rum, Vodka & Gin. Hadn't yet picked up the KEG BEER so that saved us. But somebody in the neighborhood had obviously seen us stocking the kitchen in preps and put together an impromptu operation. Pretty ballsy, but in retrospect we're all lucky to be alive, today. They only wanted the booze, but they could have come in and cut all our throats ear to ear. We didn't report the theft, no need to give the local cops more reasons to laugh at the antics of college kids. We didn't tell anybody else, we just agreed that looking like we were cheap in only getting beer would be suitable punishment.
A few years later, I was reporting into a duty station and had the occasion to give my new boss a lift home. He was a West Point grad, airborne ranger type. I'd just checked into post and hadn't yet gotten a concealed permit for Washington State. I didn't need in-state status since I was active military. Cost back then had gone up from the days at BAMA. From $5 to $35, IIRC. So I gave the good Captain (I was a Second Lieutenant still wet behind the ears) a lift to his beach house. He was a real playboy type. Had three different steady girlfriends in the different areas of the county. They all had similar names: Like Joan and JoANNE and maybe Joanie. All the LT's in the company had to know who was what and where and GOD help the officer that made a mistake resulting in a messed up beautiful arrangement for our new boss. So I drop him at his door and he invites me in for a beer. As we're coming in the front door, the BURGLAR is jumping out the back window. What does the captain do? He wants to go charging up and storm the beach! I grab the airborne ranger's sleeve and say: "Hold on SIR. Are you armed? I only just got here so I don't have a permit yet. What if HE is armed?" He paused, looked at me and after a moment said: "I think you're gonna do just fine here, lieutenant." But here was this real PRO: West Pointer and an airborne ranger! He might've gotten killed were it not for a still small and lesser ranked voice of reason. I never got my Ranger tab. I got hurt and lost my slot. I sure as hell respect ALL the Rangers I know (especially OPFOR here) but I am reminded by this incident that nobody has a corner on common sense as it applies to personal security.
Last edited by ExSoldier; January 1st, 2008 at 06:57 PM.
Former Army Infantry Captain; 28 yrs as an NRA Certified Instructor; NRA Patron Life; Avid practitioner of the martial art: KLIK-PAO.
Here's the old thread which was auto closed due to six months of inactivity.
Around 1982, a man with a long-barrel* revolver came into the store I worked, pointed the gun at my head, and told the man behind the counter to give him the money. Then he took me, gun still at my head, out the back door and when he was sure all was clear, allowed me to go back in the store.
That moment changed my life in many ways, and made me very much anti-gun. You might have reacted differently, but I never wanted to see another gun. Ever. The media reinforced my fear of guns. (Oh, I didn't mind others going hunting, just count me out.)
Fast forward to 2007 and the VT shooting. Through friends and online discussions it became clear to me that I needed to be in charge of my own self-defense. So I bought a gun, took and passed a CHL class, started going to the range weekly, joined the NRA, bought two more guns, a gun safe, lots of rounds, found you guys, and now I want even more guns, yada yada yada.
I don't like needing to be armed for my own safety. But I realize I can't "carry a cop" so I carry my Walther PPS. I'm not going to be a defenseless victim ever again.
* It looked really, really long to me!
- - - - -
Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside a dog, it's too dark to read. -Groucho Marx
Thanks, ExSoldier, for starting both these threads.
Thanks, JD, for finding that old one. I couldn't stop reading until I finished it.
I learn best from real-life situations like those mentioned. Thanks to those who are willling to share so others may learn.
I often carried on private property (employer encouraged) before NC allowed concealed carry. When it became permissible I stalled on getting my permit due to laziness. Fast forward to post September 11, 2001. I'm working for an electrician in a very remote part of western NC. I'm not sure which county we are in and cellular service is virtually unavailable. I happen to be dark complected with dark brown hair and wear a beard. So, guess who I look like to these two redneck house painters on the same job?
They had been staring at me most of the day and whispering comments to each other. They confronted me outside near a dumpster and one said, "With that beard and hair, you look like one of them." The other stood there with folded arms and stared me down. I said, "Yeah I know, I've heard that before, that's why I carry a big gun because some idiot doesn't realize that I am as American as you can get." Big mouth then said "we were only messing with you." I said "I know, it isn't a big deal."
I applied for my permit the next day. You can mistake my identity, but i won't be a victim of mistaken identity. John (whose Czech-Hungarian features make him look like "ONE-OF-THEM!!!!")
Last edited by Captain Crunch; January 2nd, 2008 at 12:51 AM. Reason: Deleted a language workaround
Before I almost became a victim in 2006, I was pretty much on the fence as far as private gun ownership goes, and had no idea that the average citizen could in fact carry a concealed handgun in the majority of the states. After April of 2006, I looked into applying for my concealed handgun permit, and it took me a year to get that done, but I eventually did in April of 2007. I am now a very strong supporter of private gun ownership, concealed carry, and the right to self defense.
USMC rule # 23 of gunfighting: Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet.
I am the God fearing, gun toting, flag waving conservative you were warned about!
Before 2004, I didn't have any opinion about firearms in general, except heavy military weapons (you know, the kind that pumps 3000 rounds per minute) and in fact, had never even fired or handled one prior to that year. Events in 2004 changed that, but not immediately.
My wife and I were hanging out talking to some neighbors who had just returned from the Carolinas and visiting family. We were keeping an eye on their place for them, and since they were home and we were still up, we went out to talk to them. Our apartments were right next to each other, on the bottom floor. The bottom floor was sunk down about 4-5 feet into the ground, so that in order to get to the parking lot, you had to go up a short flight of 5-6 steps. My wife and I were talking to my neighbor's wife on that short flight of stairs. I was at the top, one foot on the top step, the other on the one below it, my butt leaning on the rail, facing down the steps. My wife and nieghbor's wife were standing at the bottom steps. My neighbor ws busy moving their young son into his bedroom for the night, along with all his kidgear.
Now all the while we are talking, we hear some pops in the night. Its about midnightish, and the night was July 12th. While fireworks are illegal here, it inst uncommon to hear pops in the night up until the end of the month. I didn't think too much of it, though ive often wondered that some of them may not be firecrackers. Anyway. There was a group of people hanging around by the dumpster about 75 yards aware. We didn't think much of them, or about them, we were just minding our own business.
Next thing I know one of them is walking over our way, but not directly towards us. I kept an eye on him, but you never really want to stare, so I didn't. I turned to look to my wife, listening to what she was saying, then glanced back to see this guy standing about 15 yards away directly in front of our building. He calls out "what chy'all lookin' at?" I said nothing man, were just hangin out over here. He interrupted me with the same question again and before he finished (and I saw this happen in what felt like 3 hours time )he reached down to his beltline and pulled something out. I saw two flashes and for what felt like an eternity between each, thought I was dead. Damnedest feeling ive ever had. Naturally. Anyway, some part of my brain decided to ignore my deer in the headlight moment and I turned and spread my arms out while flying down the steps. I recall thinking, if I can get these two down low enough, they wont get hit due to the landing/building being sunk down into the ground as it was. I kept flying, screaming "GO!, GO!, GO!" I recall my neighbors wife flying into her apartment (which was right next to the steps) and the door slamming, and I recall bullets hitting wood, and wood particles flying, and then I recall passing through my doorway, wife behind me.
When I passed my door's threshold, I turned around to pull her through, expecting her to be right behind me, I found that she was a step behind, hopping along. So I grabbed her and yanked her in, and slammed the door. At that point she collapsed about 2 feet from the door, but all I could think of is this guy walking up to the door, trying to get in, and finish the job, eliminating witnesses. So I grabbed her and urged her to get away from the door, but she wasn't budging, in fact, she was passing out. I saw blood everywhere on the floor below her leg, and she wasn't responding to me. I managed to pull her about another 3 feet from the door, as im beginning to freak out along with pure adrenaline rush, realizing shes been hit and is dying before my eyes. I recall looking for the wound in her leg, but I couldn't find it, I was freaking so bad. I grabbed my belt off the wall, and made a makeshift tourniquet at her hip joint to slow the bleeding, and then grabbed the phone off the wall, dialed 911, screamed at them to get their arses here, and then I grabbed a towel and applied pressure anywhere I thought was bleeding.
The Cops and EMS showed up fairly soon, I later found out some one had already called them, as the group of people by the dumpster had been shooting at it for a while, and someone called the police on them earlier. It still felt like forever though, as I was trying to find the would on my wifes leg and stop the bleeding, and keeping her with me. When they got there, I let them in and EMS took over.
The police quickly tracked from myself and others down that the thug was in the next building over, and went in and drug them all out in cuffs soon after.
Unfortunately, it was dark, I could not see the guys face, no one else except for one person would step forward and ID the guy, and it boiled down to his word vs hers. They had to release the suspects 24 hours later.
My wife took a shot to the leg, entered in the front, pierced her femoral artery, blew out the sousaphone veins, and exited out the back of her thigh. Luckily, it did not hit bone. She was rushed to to the hospital and the surgeon there, thank god, put in a gortex graft into her federal artery and saved her leg.
I took shrapnel to my arm, and back. My neighbor took a ricochet bullet to her shoulder, but it didn't penetrate her shirt. Just left a a hellluva welt would with some minor skin breakage.
the Police were aware of the punks there, they had been out before. They were usual crackhead gangsta types, and that night they wanted to try and prove a point, I guess.
Its kinda of rough reliving it and describing it, I wont lie. My wife hates to hear me reference it sometimes, understandably, but retelling it, and recalling keeps me grounded in life sometimes. some days I wont talk about it, some days its no problem whatsoever. It most defiantly has changed out lives. Sometimes I catch myself feeling a little freaked out, but not as much as the 6 months after it happened. Anyway, im also not the type to not share things like this, especially if it can help someone else.
I also took this opportunity to help my wife get over her fear of firearms. I am a man, and can admit that I also had a fear of them, moreso since I have never handled one in my life, ever. I told my wife, what the heck, we have seen the worst end of one and lived, why not get a hold of the better end of one and live longer, and understand them, rather then walk around scared to death of them. It wasn't easy, as her mom had instilled her own fear of them into her. Her mother hates guns since her brother shot himself accidentally in the eye, killing himself at age 13. She has never forgiven "firearms" for it in her life, and passed that down to her daughter. So, after about 2.5 years afger our shooting, the wife and I hit the local shops and ranges, even rented one, and got to try it out. 3 months later, we both took CCW classes and passed, and were owners of a Glock 19 Homeland Defender model.
So overall, while we each will carry with us some painful things, as we always will, we each are also a lot wiser, smarter, mature, we are both alive, whole, and enjoying each "day extra" since that day, and we both have overcome our own personal fears of firearms.
Shes still a little wary of guns yet I think, but I think we've both been blessed at this point.
For the benefit of any new members reading this since the old thread was posted, I will re-post my contribution to the old thread. It is posted below in italics.
Yep, I've been a victim. And I hated it.
I grew up with guns and knew from a very early age that I would get my carry permit when I turned 21. But, trouble often does not wait until you are ready for it and that was the case with me.
I was 19 and in the Navy, stationed in Great Lakes Illinois. (God I hated that place) It was a payday weekend and I walked off base with a friend named Toby and into one of the many "fine" shops just out of the gate, don't remember the street name as that has been 20 year s ago now, and as I walked out of the shop and passed a little alley, my friend and I were attacked. Toby was hit in the head with a 2X4 and I was kicked in the face karate style. I saw stars and was disoriented badly. Toby was out cold. I thought he was dead. Then the thug started hitting me in the face while I was still pretty disoriented.
A citizen on the street saw it happen and ran into a bar to call police and the bartender came out with a bat and hit the scum who was assaulting me and Toby. He and 2 other bar patrons held the scum bag there until the police arrived and the ambulance got there just a few minutes after the cops.
Turned out the thug who attacked us was in the Navy too. I couldn't believe it but he was stationed right there on the base same as me. He was was arrested and court-martialed and ended up with a dishonorable discharge and 3 years hard labor. Not enough if you ask me.
Toby had a concussion and a cracked vertebra and I ended up with a fractured right orbit (eye socket) and a broken jaw plus bruised ribs and a torn ligament in my left shoulder that still gives me problems today.
The experience just re-enforced my desire to get a carry permit and it also made me understand that I need to be much more aware of my surroundings. I never walk past an alley close to the mouth of the alley and I am always scanning the area. I am a little paranoid about people sneaking up on me now too.
Anyway, that is my story of being a victim.
Saint77, you were really lucky or blessed in your harrowing encounter. But why did it take so long to get oriented to the idea of armed self defense?
Also are you NOW practicing from a tactical point of view? Are you practicing to solve problems of a hostile nature? You should check this group out: http://www.idpa.com it's not by any means perfect form of training but you may learn a heckuva lot anyway (depending on other club members and their experiences and training). My club has folks from all walks of life. LEOs, teachers, lawyers, special forces active reserve, former CIA (LOL) and a few grandmothers and grandfathers. You can't learn to employ real tactics via IDPA. However it is a great way to build muscle memory for your draw, your reloads and the need to seek cover. If both of you engage in this sport you'll both rid yourselves of any lingering apprehensions regarding the handling of firearms and you'll make a ton of new friends in the process.
Former Army Infantry Captain; 28 yrs as an NRA Certified Instructor; NRA Patron Life; Avid practitioner of the martial art: KLIK-PAO.
I've been lucky to have never been a victim of anything more than a school yard fight ("I'll see you by the swings during recess!").
I appreciate everyone telling their stories. I've been a little sheltered, and your stories have helped to open my eyes just a little more.
The ultimate result of shielding men from the effects of folly is to fill the world with fools.
NRA Life Member
I also wanted to work her into it. I mean, lets face it, she went through a fairly traumatizing event, plus her already ingrown fear of guns to begin with. It took me a while, like 6 months I think just to talk her into considering it. and another 6 months of reasoning to get her into a local gunshop/shooting range. I on the other hand, was dying to go to a shop and get into it feet first. But, as most married men know, some things you just cant push, you have to let happen. I also was going to use this situation as a form of therapy, mostly for her, but for the both of us. Sort of like the old idea of "fall off a horse, get back on again" Oddly enough, when it did happen, I wasn't expecting it. We finally had the money to buy one, too. As far as I go, I just wanted to wait until I felt ready to do it.
As far as practicing goes, we are both Conceal carry permit holders, and have both been through 14 hour classes. as well as lots of range time. We both practice with our CCW as much as we can, and have local range memberships. We have planned, practiced and mapped out scenarios in the home and outside. Im always up for learning more.
Right now, her residual fears are fairly minor. I think shes more afraid of accidental discharge then anything else, and may feel like carrying full time is as much as admitting shes fully paranoid, if you get what I mean.
Me? I carry as much as possible, im just having a hard time finding a place near my fat spare tire to hide it, heh. so im ankle or pocket carrying for now. Its winter here so, I coat/jacket carry too. As I mentioned, im always up for learning more, and practicing, but I am also, and have always been really, a tactically minded person, Where I grew up, you had to be.
And, as silly as this sounds to some, I have been an avid video gamer since '82. Mostly First Person shooters for the last 10 years. I attribute a lot of my mental acuity and tactical thinking to playing these types of games, and when I run into people who scoff at the idea, I point out that AFIAK, Many police departments train using video devices.
Thanks for the link, ill look it over.
I have been shooting for as long as I have been able to hold a gun. Until recently shooting was literally my job. I was a Gunners Mate in the Coast Guard and the small arms instructor for Maryland, DC and northern Virginia. Our instructor staff trained over 400 federal law enforcement officers quarterly on the Beretta 92fs (m9) later the Sig P229r-DAK, the Remington 870 police model 12ga Shotgun and the M16A2. I taught basic marksmanship and advanced practical shooting courses. I bring this all up by way of telling you that I can not envision a single REALISTIC scenario in which a gun on the ankle will help you, ever. Picture the shooting you where involved in from the standpoint of being armed. A handgun on in a belt holster can be drawn and used to stop the treat. In that scenario the gun on the ankle cannot be retrieved. If you ever have enough time to draw from an ankle holster than maybe you should be retreating and calling the cops with all of that extra time. This is not a flame. I offer you this advise with a sincere interest in setting you up for success. Please look into a good belt slide (outside the waistband) or inside the waistband or paddle holster. If the spare tire interferes with this then I recommend a hip pack holster.
As to video training you are correct. It is refereed to as operant conditioning and the number one thing it is good for is to condition one not to stand around all surprised watching yourself get killed. It helps overcome the universal human phobia of interpersonal human violence and take positive action. You can read more about this in David Grossman's book On Combat.
I also second ex's recommendation on taking up idpa. It may be the funnest thing you ever do with your clothes on.
Ive so far been through a Bianchi and Galco IWB holster for my Glock 19 and Taurus PT111. Neither were very concealable or very comfortable for that matter. I also have a Desantis pancake holster, which while comfortable, rides the highest point of my "spare tire" and tends to stick out the handle a lot. However, now that im the proud owner of a Kimber Tactical Ultra II my wife got me for Christmas, I have some more options. It doesn't seem to stick out as much as my G19 when side holstered. My next two tryouts are going to be a M-TAC (or similar holster) and a Smartcarry. My wife is defiantly getting a Smartcarry.
Realize though, that most of the time I pocket or jacket/coat carry. At least, I have since the weather turned cold and offered me that option.
Of course, my best option is to drop some Lbs. which is also on the agenda.
Its funny, our instructor mentioned that carrying, and involving firearms in you rlife meant a larger change in your life that one might think. Not as simple as "just having one around" He was careful to ensure that we knew this, and he was right.
Laslty, I dont take any of what you said as a flame, in fact I welcome the help!
I forgot to ask, does anyone make a horizontal magazine holster? I ask this because, I carry my cell phone this way, and I practically forget its there. It would be an easy way to conceal them as well, along the beltline.
To keep my post On-Topic:
I witnessed a convenience store robbery in which the clerk was killed, after the BG got all his money. I was in line and myself or about three others in the store could have stopped it from happening if we'd have been prepared.
"Active compliance" has not been part of my regularly used vocabulary since.
"Wise people learn when they can; fools learn when they must." - The Duke of Wellington