since the attempted break in at my apartment.
Last Tuesday someone tried to enter my apartment around 10AM by smashing out the bedroom window. Since everyone in my building EXCEPT me works during the day, the burglar must have been very surprised to hear the dogs and people inside protesting the violent way we'd woken up.
My window has yet to be repaired, but the plywood that covers the window is solid and I've duct taped the gaps so I'm not air conditioning the outside. One of my shotguns has a new home outside the gun cabinet in a secure yet easily accessible place in my bedroom, loaded with buckshot. I do not fear this particular burglar's return, but my place is on the ground floor, and is the furthest corner apartment in the complex. I am VERY afraid for the next person that tries to gain unauthorized access to my place.
We become, growing up in our generation, desensitized to general violence. The thoughts and ideas concerning the taking of another person's life are casually debated. A phrase I have often used throughout my life, "They'll never find the body," is a testament to this. But looking from my bed to where the shotgun, loaded with one in the chamber, a safety release and a trigger pull away from doing horrific and almost certainly fatal damage to whomever decides to make a bad life decision and engage in robbing Apt 151, that callus and cavalier attitude about taking another life floats away. And what I'm left with is a cold and very certain reality that while there will be no hesitation, just the THOUGHT process involved in bringing live ammunition into the apt has fundamentally changed how I look at personal defense and home security.
After the storm, we EXPECTED crime. The complete demolition of almost every infrastructure on the city, county and state level within a day's travel of my home told me that we were on our own. Yet NEVER did I feel threatened or scared. Never did I have to warn someone away. Never did I have to buy bullets. One recession and four and a half years later and I'm a window down and loaded for bear. Literally.
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I didn't go through anything like Katrina, but I hear you about the rest. I've got a 12-inch bowie knife in the truck with me at all times two of my friends are licensed to carry and conceal (and they do so). I'm not happy about the feeling but, unfortunately, I don't feel like be taking advantage of either.
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