Guns! Guns! Guns!

Carolyn McCarthy’s political career began because of tragedy. On a December nighnt in 1993, a gunman boarded a Long Island Rail Road train and opened fire. McCarthy’s husband was one of five killed and her only son, Kevin, was critically injured.

For McCarthy, a nurse, grief turned to activism as she became an advocate for stiffer gun restrictions. And in 1996, when the Republican congressman in her home district voted for the repeal of an assault weapon ban for which she had lobbied intensely, that activism became a campaign. Though McCarthy had been a lifelong Republican, she ran as a Democrat following a courtship by party leaders. She won a hard-fought race and brought her gun control advocacy to the House in 1997.

“I am the gun lady,” she conceded in 2009. She quickly emerged as one of the House’s most vocal gun control advocates, and she has become a familiar face following the gun-related killings that have periodically gripped the nation, from the shootings at Columbine High School in 1999 to the Virginia Tech massacre in 2007.

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Good Bye, Beautiful Sue

I had been to her wedding a year before. Then I went to her funeral.

She and Tony (her long-time friend and new husband) were sunning themselves by the motel’s pool in Phoenix. Someone ran out of a bar down the road brandishing a gun as he chased after a man. He began shooting wildly. One of his bullets struck Sue in the neck. She died instantly.

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In another instance a man ran into a Catholic school across town from the one my kids attended  and began shooting. No one knows why. He killed a Priest and seriously wounded a teacher.

Whew. We were glad to leave that southern NJ area.

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We moved to a sleepy little town in the South. A woman we had come  to know  worked as an  administrator where we banked. She was shot dead by an  irate ex-husband.

All we need now is dueling. Remember the movie High Noon? Since we all have guns we could bring duels back. You cut me off, you ****! I challenge you to a duel, Friday! Be there!

Bang! Bang! Good-bye, folks. It sure was nice to have known you.
Is this the way it was in the wild west?

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There have been some creative ideas for this country’s love of guns. Why not number the bullet casings? If every bullet casing were numbered, it would make catching  murderers and other criminals easier. It’s time to level the playing field but this may be a sophomoric solution.

How about designer bullet-proof vests? Of course that doesn’t help head wounds.
There must be a creative solution for head wounds.

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How come we have to pass a test before we can get a
license to operate a car?
But owning a gun? No test. Nothing.

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On a lighter note...
I was going to meet my husband in the City (NY) for a function. I don’t remember exactly what the function was. It was my first ride on the Long Island Rail Road.

After a short time the train came to a screeching stop. The conductor went flying down the aisle. I grabbed the seat in front of me as I braced for the crash. The sound was deafening as the train finally came to a stop.

My husband was waiting anxiously for the train from Long Island to arrive.
Once I spotted him, I joked...Boy, is the ride always that rough?