Why We Are Here

It is sometimes a matter of life or death

As I have shared in the past, the front-line dealers are the face, heart, mind, and soul of the shooting sports world. They interact everyday with the millions of guests looking for solutions to their concerns, worries, and needs. These dealers also use those talents to handle some of life’s scariest moments.  The story you are about to read is one of a very brave young lady and a life saved. 

It was an overcast day and slow, foot-traffic wise, at our store/range. I had let several staff members go out to lunch, and one team member and I were cleaning and tending to the inventory stocking, straightening, and the other small chores that a business requires to be done on a daily basis. 

The door opened and in stepped a guest who asked for me by name. She was a petite lady and she wore large dark sunglasses. I could tell she was very nervous and yet her face remained focused on me. She was carrying a gun box in one hand and her purse in the other, both of which were gripped firmly. 

I greeted her and said, “I am Miles. How can I help you?”  

She paused a second, then said, “I was told to meet you, and that you would be able to show me how to work and fire this.” Then she held out the gun box. 

I said, “I would be happy to do that. Let’s get to my calendar and we will set a time.”  

She took a step toward me and in a much stronger voice stated unequivocally, “No, I need to learn this today. I am prepared to stay with you all day until I get taught everything you are willing to teach me.”  

Her tone was intense, to be sure. “Ma’am, we don’t normally do that,” I said, taking a step toward my office just behind her. 

She interrupted me and said, “Can we go somewhere and talk privately?” 

I pointed to the door and held it open as she walked in. She put down the gun box and her purse and turned toward me. With a deep and somewhat shaky breath, she faced me and finally removed those large dark glasses. 

Both of her eyes were blood red, and you could tell she had bruises she had tried to cover with make-up. I stood firm and tried to select my next words and actions carefully, as I knew now what more than likely had happened to her. After what seemed to be an eternity I said, “Ma’am I will do my very best for you.”  

We spent the next several hours together learning. We went over grip, aiming, dry firing, loading, unloading, stance, sight alignment, breathing. Given all that had happened, she was amazingly focused. She asked lots of questions and the give and take was productive. It was at this point she shared that she had shot a .22 caliber rifle, but this would be the first handgun she had shot. When we went onto the range her focus stayed the course, and at the end, she seemed cautiously empowered. I kept emphasizing this mantra: “God forbid you would ever have to use the gun in self-defense, but if you must, you must shoot to stop the act of aggression.” 

I walked her to the car and shared that my wife, Jayne, and I would pray for her and hope she would never have to face the drama again. 

The next time I saw her was several weeks later. She and the detective who recommended us to her came by. They were heading to the airport. She was moving out of the state, and she wanted to stop by before leaving. She gave me a big hug and thanked me for taking the time with her. 

While in that embrace I told her that it was my honor to help, and I still hoped she never would have to use the gun. “But if do, you are ready.” 

Pulling back slightly and with her hands on each of my arms, she quietly said, “I used it that night.”  Pulling me into another hug, she added, “I was able to follow your directions. That’s the reason I am alive today.”  

The detective quickly added, “Miles, she has allowed me to share with you what happened, so I’ll come back and tell you the full story.”

And with that they left the store. When the detective returned, he told me, “Her attacker was a very large man around 300 pounds with a criminal record who had randomly picked her while she was shopping with some friends. He followed her to her home, and when she was alone, he forced the door open. She shot at him several times with a .22 rifle that she stored in the closet, but because of his size and the angles of the shots, none of the rounds hit any major areas enough to stop him. After the assault, he left and actually covered the wounds with duct tape. 

“While she was with you at the range her front door was replaced. He returned that night, yelling in a way that made it very clear he was going to kill her. She called the police, and when he kicked in that new door, she shot him. Unlike before, he did not get up.”  

This was a very brave lady indeed. No one that I have known who has been forced to use deadly force against an attacker is happy about it. Happy to be alive, yes, but taking a life, even an evil soul, is something they will carry forever. That said, the simple truth is this is one reason why we are here.