For a few days last week, I reverted to my old “city habit” and carried two guns—my standard EDC Kimber CDS-9 and my Smith & Wesson snubby. This kind of carry is only possible when wearing cargo pants because I keep a spare 15-round magazine in my left-hand cargo pocket and two speedloaders in my right-hand cargo pocket. Since the revolver is in my left-hand front pocket, that requires lots of pockets. Especially since I still carry a wallet, knife, keys, money clip, and other pocket litter.
I bulked up my defensive armament because I went to a city, and when I go to “the big city” I like to be well armed. Don’t think this is a new issue with cities; when I lived and worked in one I carried two guns almost every day.
Once I got home, life got busy, and I just stuck the gun back in my pocket every morning like I used to. It was only when I had to go to court for jury duty and I couldn’t carry in the courthouse that I returned the revolver to the safe.
And then, the next day, I read about Margaret Swan, a 66-year-old woman who got stabbed 20 times on the subway in Atlanta in an unprovoked apparently random attack. I’m not a 66-year-old woman and I haven’t ridden the subway for years, but it was almost enough to make me go back into the safe and strap on my second gun again.
And then, I thought, for what? In case the raccoons team up with the possums and launch a surprise attack the next time I walk the dog at 11:30 p.m. (I see their little shiny eyes looking back at me at least twice a week.)
Violence is on the Rise, or is it?
If the statistics are to be believed, many cities are reducing their murder rate, leading to a fall in the national murder rate. We may have fewer gang members killing other gang members or drug dealers shooting it out over a corner, but it feels like there are more crazy people pushing strangers off subway platforms, more illegal aliens raping or killing little girs and young women, and more recently released felons randomly stabbing people than ever before. Violence is becoming a way of life.
It’s anarchy versus law and order. Just as red cities crack down on crime, it seems like blue cities are letting more criminals back out to wreak havoc on their unsuspecting and (in most Democratic strongholds) unarmed residents. No bail. Catch and release. Crime pays, and it encourages practitioners to up their game so it pays more. This not only lowers the quality of life for people in blue cities, it makes life there more dangerous.
This is why I carry. So if I am ever on a subway and some dude pulls a knife on me, he’ll have more bullet holes than I have stab wounds. And while I may never be in a subway, there is violence at fast-food restaurants, gas stations, and convenience stores; I generally use the drive-in window and try to avoid gas stations in cities. I also stay home at night, which reduces trouble.
But bad stuff can still find you, even when you try to avoid it.
A Strange Knock on the Door
The other morning, while I was in bed, my wife came into the bedroom and asked, “Did you hear that?” I had not, because I had been asleep. But then I did. Someone was knocking, repeatedly, and not at the front door.
The back door is at the opposite end of the house, down a level, and leads to the garage. No one we know would knock at the back door. I woke up pretty fast.
“I’m putting on my pants,” I said. And then I holstered my pistol, stuck a spare magazine in my back pocket and grabbed my AR15. I slipped out of the bedroom onto the deck and headed down it toward the other end of the house. First thing I noticed was that whoever was knocking hadn’t driven a car or a four-wheeler, which was weird. We are a long way from anywhere if you are walking.
Before I could get into position to see the door, a giant woodpecker heard me coming and flew away. It was a pileated woodpecker, and this one was bigger than the hawk that killed one of our chickens. (You can see photos and read about the poleated woodpecker here.) The bird hadn’t been knocking at the door, but it sure sounded like it. Instead, it was pecking the carpenter bee larva out from the support pillars or other lumber in our deck. (The carpenter bees have been especially bad this year.)
I laughed, checked the back door to be sure, and went back inside. The next day my wife, armed with a broom, chased it off again, and once more about three days later. It hasn’t returned since, but we hear it in the woods. When they are pecking on a dead tree, and we have many thanks to Helene, it doesn’t sound like someone knocking at the door.
You Never Know
My point is, just as I was overprepared to encounter the woodpecker, you could be under-prepared to meet some meth addict or mentally ill person knocking on your back door or wandering through your yard. This is why I enjoy living in a remote area. Very few people show up unannounced. When they do, it’s usually a neighbor, and we recognize their car as they head up the road.
But just as that poor lady had probably been riding the subway to and from work for years, you never know when your luck will change. Don’t assume that just because you have never been accosted, you will never be. That kind of normalcy bias can get you killed.
Where did I go in the city? Sam’s Club, a bookstore, and a gun store. Did trouble find me? No, but why take a chance?
Preppers often say, “prepare for the worst, but hope for the best.” I feel better prepared when I am carrying a gun. Or two.
