Is it just paranoia?
Why I Carry a Gun
By Kathy Jackson
When people find out that I carry a gun most of the time, they're often
curious. What would prompt a woman to do something like that? Because
it sounds a little odd, many people conclude that an armed woman must
live in constant fear.
Rather the opposite, actually. The account below was written several years
ago, but the sentiments in it are no less true today. Despite the
title, it really isn't about why I started carrying a gun full-time, but
about why I keep doing so.
Carrying a gun can be uncomfortable.
The gun literally and figuratively gets in the way of some activities.
There is a constant and slightly uncomfortable awareness that the folks
around me would be unhappy with me if they knew I had a gun under my outer
clothing. Nevertheless, I continue to carry almost all day, almost every
day.
Last week, I went to pick up two of my children from summer camp, and
drop another two off at the same camp for the next session. The camp is
about 3 hours from my house, in a rural area. The road we travel to get
there is a two-lane highway, scenic and beautiful. And we were traveling
in broad daylight.
Before I left the house, I put my gun on.
Did I expect any trouble? Nope. I just wear it as a matter of course.
It's what I ordinarily do and so that's what I did on this ordinary day.
After dropping one set of kids off and picking up the next set, the kids
and I wandered down to the beach. We walked along a nearly empty boardwalk
and enjoyed the sun and the crisp breeze. Yes, I still had my gun on.
I didn't leave it in the car simply because I expected no trouble. I carried
it, because that's what I always do.
Because we were enjoying ourselves, we stayed at the beach a bit longer
than I had originally intended, and so it was nearly sunset before we
got back in the car for the ride home. We got back in the car and I noticed
the car needed fuel, so we stopped at the gas station. There were other
people fueling up, and I did my standard observant glance around the station
before I stepped out of the car and filled the tank. Got back in the car
... and the car didn't want to start.
Hmph.
My sons and I push-started the cruddy little car and I mumbled a few choice
comments under my breath. The car was going, and sounded all right, but
the ride home was going to take about 3 hours. We'd piddled around at
the beach so that it would be full dark before we arrived home. This particular
stretch of road is notorious for its lack of cell service. Was the car
reliable enough to drive down the deserted stretch of road? Should I risk
it? If I didn't risk it, what would I do instead? There were no service
shops open in this almost nonexistent town on a Saturday night, nor were
there likely to be the next day.
I know nothing about engines (hey, that's what God made mechanics for!)
and had no idea what was wrong. Maybe I'd left the headlights on while
we were walking the boardwalk? If so, driving for awhile would take care
of the problem. The car really did sound okay once it started up,
and I couldn't think of any really great alternative plans.
So we started back on that empty deserted stretch of road. And of course,
a few miles down the road, the car died (fiddlesticks and other comments).
So there I was, a woman alone with two young boys, with no cell phone,
on a deserted stretch of two lane highway just before dark.
Was I worried? About the car, yes. But I wasn't worried about our physical
safety. I knew I had both the training and the tools to protect myself
and my children even in the unlikely event that a human predator came
along.
Shortly after the car died, another car pulled over and the man driving
it asked if we needed help. Was I worried about his intentions? Nope,
I was relieved to see him. I didn't have to worry about him or what he
might do, because I knew I could protect myself if he turned out not to
be the good Samaritan he appeared to be. Having the means to defend myself
allowed me to be friendly and confident in talking to a stranger in what
could have been dangerous circumstances. So I gave him the phone number
for AAA and asked him to call them for me. He said, "All right, I'll
do that -- and I'll come back and let you know what they said so you'll
know if I got ahold of them okay." Nice guy.
Fifteen minutes later, the man returned, handed us three cold Cokes, and
told me AAA was on the way. The kids and I thanked him profusely.
An hour after that, I was still sitting on the side of the road, waiting
for my tow truck. The boys and I had run out of things to talk about.
I was bored, a little worried that AAA had forgotten us, and we were all
getting hungry and sleepy. Finally, the tow truck showed up -- a greasy
driver who talked a mile a minute. Of course he was greasy, that's his
job. But a woman alone on a deserted country road knows in her bones that
the tow truck guy could be a rapist of opportunity. Did I worry about
that? Not a bit. I knew I had the means to take care of myself and my
kids if I needed to. Because I had that confidence, I was able to be friendly
and forthright.
Eventually, the whole situation worked itself out, as these things do.
Nobody offered me the slightest violence and because I was calmly confident
of my ability to take care of it if they did, I was able to be outgoing
and friendly rather than frightened or churlishly suspicious in dealing
with other people, even in what I considered to be risky circumstances.
Although the stereotype is that gun owners are after some sort of a "power
rush," I never have felt super-powerful or invincible when carrying a
gun, nor anything remotely like that. Instead, in a low-key sort of way,
I simply feel confident that I am equipped to handle an unpleasant or
even deadly situation if I really need to do so. Because I know I could
cope with the worst that could happen, I am free to go about my regular
business without a lot of that low-level, back-of-the-mind feeling of
vulnerability that most women experience on some level in their daily
lives (especially when traveling though big cities, or in deserted areas
after dark). When I first began carrying, I really liked having that feeling
of calm confidence which came from being prepared to cope with the worst
life could possibly throw at me, and I wanted to keep feeling it.
And that is why I carry a gun all the time.