One thing most Alaskans know is that guns are tools. Many in the 49th state still live close to the land. They use guns to feed themselves by killing animals for food, and they use guns to defend themselves against grizzly bears that would like to make them food.
Confession here: I once used a handgun to shoot a grizzly bear off my leg after making the unfortunate discovery that not all grizzly charges are bluffs. Whether the gun saved my life or simply prevented the bear from ripping me up even more is up for debate; suffice to say that even though I had no desire to shoot this bear, I'm glad I did. Obviously, this incident also colors my attitudes toward guns.
But it is in most ways irrelevant to what I'm about to say next to advocates of gun control: If you're in the anti-gun crowd wondering why those in the pro-gun crowd think you're nuts, look no further than Joe Zamudio.
Zamudio was a legitimate hero in the wake of the shooting of Rep. Gabrielle Giffords and 18 others in Tuscon on Saturday. The 24-year-old, an employee of a Tuscon art gallery, was at a Walgreen's buying cigarettes when he heard the shots that wounded Giffords, the target of the shooting, and killed a federal judge, an innocent 9-year-old girl and four others. Zamudio's response was to charge out of the drug store in the direction of the shooting.
Life is a dangerous business
Zamudio supports an Arizona law allowing the concealed carry of firearms, and he had a 9-mm. with him. He never used it, though. He rushed to the scene only to find others already wrestling 22-year-old shooter Jared Lee Loughner to the ground. Zamudio put his gun away and helped subdue the shooter. And this is how his involvement got played by some in the media: "Gabrielle Giffords and the perils of guns: How an armed hero nearly shot the wrong man," headlined Slate in a story quickly disseminated by MSNBC and others.
"This is a much more dangerous picture than has generally been reported," wrote William Saletan:
Zamudio had released his safety and was poised to fire when he saw what he thought was the killer still holding his weapon. Zamudio had a split second to decide whether to shoot. He was sufficiently convinced of the killer's identity to shove the man into a wall. But Zamudio didn't use his gun. That's how close he came to killing an innocent man. He was, as he acknowledges, 'very lucky.' That's what happens when you run with a firearm to a scene of bloody havoc. In the chaos and pressure of the moment, you can shoot the wrong person.
Yes, you could. And every time you get in your car you could run over someone and kill them because you weren't paying full attention. And any time you bring a prescription drug home and fail to lock it up in a safe location you could poison your children. And any time you replace an electrical outlet in your home you could burn down the house and kill your whole family. And any time you, well, you've probably already got the picture.
Life is a dangerous business. We're all under a death sentence. None of us are going to live forever. Often luck, good or bad, determines the outcome.