Saying the not-so-quiet part out loud.
At least one politician spits out the truth.
It’s hard to imagine in the wake of the most recent mass school shootings, but I recall fondly when guns were a regular part of my adolescence in Connecticut.
My large public high school had a rifle range in the basement. We on the rifle team were introverts and unathletic kids who still wanted a team sport experience. Every afternoon, our coach would unlock the flimsy cabinet that held ten .22 caliber Winchester target rifles and we would practice for matches against other state high schools.
Our safety training was rudimentary but effective; mainly “never leave a bullet in it and don’t point it at anyone.” Our worst incident was the theft of a prized shooting jacket from a rival team; an appeal to good sportsmanship eventually got it back. One day, a National Rifle Association (NRA) membership card in my name arrived in the mail.
By Steven R. Singer