It was just after midnight in January of
1993 when John and Tiffany left a party at the Sigma Chi house in
Starkville, Mississippi. The band was winding down as the couple walked to
their car in the parking lot close to where Highway 12 runs into Scott
Field on the campus of Mississippi State University.
When they came upon a man who was trying to break into a car parked
near their own, all hell broke loose. Before they knew it, they had been
abducted at gunpoint. Words cannot describe the horror that John witnessed
before Tiffany’s life was taken. Shortly thereafter, he too was murdered
execution-style by the side of Highway 45. Many tears were shed on Monday
night when our fraternity met to mourn the deaths of the two young
students.After the murders, I had to endure driving by the murder site
every Thursday night at about six o’clock on my way to Tupelo,
Mississippi. My band played once a week at a bar in Tupelo called
Jefferson Place. That meant that I had to drive by the murder site again
on my way home at about two in the morning. The images got to me after a
couple of weeks, so I called my friend David and asked whether he was
still selling his .357 magnum. It was a model 19 by Smith and Wesson. I
bought the gun thinking that it would be better to have a gun and not need
it than to need a gun and not have it. After I moved to Wilmington, North
Carolina, I sold that .357 magnum. At the time, my friend Barry Whitehead
told me that selling a gun was always a big mistake. Three years later,
when I bought my first house in downtown Wilmington, I learned that Barry
was right. Despite rampant crack sales, it took almost nine months to get
the police to take an interest in the drug trafficking in my neighborhood.
Later, I bought my second .357 magnum and a concealed carry permit to go
along with it.
In the three years that I lived in that neighborhood, I rarely “used”
my permit by carrying a concealed weapon. Nonetheless, it came in handy
late one evening when I was walking in my neighborhood and accidentally
stumbled upon a crack deal. When the dealer asked what I as doing there, I
simply told him that it was my neighborhood. He smiled and told me his
name. I suppose that he knew I was carrying a gun because of my
confidence. Two months later, eighteen people were arrested smoking crack
in his house. I should know because I arranged the drug bust. I told him
it was my neighborhood. He should have listened.For those who don’t
know, the concealed carry laws that have been enacted across the land have
had a clear effect on serious crime that most social scientists refuse to
recognize. Serious scholars such as John Lott have shown that lives
are saved as a result of these laws. Nonetheless, Lott has been shunned by
academics more interested in showing their classes “Bowling for
Columbine” than in actually saving people’s lives. Less murder, less
rape, and less robbery would be nice unless, of course, it interferes with
the liberal desire to take another shot at Marxism. No pun intended, of
course.
As an out-of-the-closet gun owner, N.R.A. member, and hunter you can
imagine the comments that I hear from disapproving faculty members here at
my place of employment. When one colleague learned I was in the N.R.A., he
asked why “we” think that everyone should own an “assault rifle.”
That discussion ended when I asked him to tell me what an “assault rifle”
was. He didn’t know. He just knew he hated them because Dan Rather said
they were bad. Oh, the intellectual curiosity.Of course, giving up my
concealed-carry permit and quitting the N.R.A. would never be sufficient
to redeem me in the eyes of the anti-gun fanatics here in the ivory tower.
My status as a hunter is alone sufficient to condemn me in their eyes.
Many of my colleagues who fail to muster compassion for unborn humans are
staunch defenders of the local deer population. The fact that the
overpopulation of deer causes numerous highway fatalities is of little
concerned to them. And most would rather see a deer wrapped around the
grill of a Ford Expedition and dragged down the highway than to have it
experience a clean, quick death with the help of my Browning A-Bolt.
I know that my membership in the N.R.A. helps to neutralize these
extremists, some of whom would outlaw hunting scopes because they are “unfair”
to the deer. If you think I am kidding, think again. I have actually heard
it suggested in the faculty lunchroom.Of course, I really don’t mind
when the academic anti-gun nuts use the First Amendment to express their
opposition to the Second Amendment. Every time they do, I just head down
to the local sporting goods store and buy another gun that I don’t
really need. When I joined the N.R.A., I became part of an organized effort
to neutralize the wacky ideas of the anti-gun lobby in America. I also
believe that the N.R.A. won the last Presidential election for George W.
Bush. Even Bill Clinton says so and we all know that guy never lies. He
isn’t in the N.R.A. Some people say that a conservative is a liberal who’s
been mugged. Maybe an N.R.A. member is a liberal whose unarmed friends
were killed by the side of the highway on a cold night in January
.Dr. Mike Adams is the author of "Welcome to the Ivory Tower of
Babel"