Lethal Passage_ The Story of a Gun - Erik Larson [108]
The assassinations of the sixties were a unique and in a sense nonthreatening form of gun violence. We in the TV audience could congratulate ourselves on being safe because we, after all, were not in politics. Even the race riots in the last third of the decade seemed containable phenomena. Most of America watched from secure living rooms with a collective shaking of heads. I can remember watching the news in the weeks before one of my family’s annual trips to visit relatives in South Dakota. Although I did briefly wonder whether the world could remain intact, I assured myself there would be no riots in the town of Arlington, South Dakota, where my grandparents lived behind still-unlocked doors. I trusted the turnpike system to neatly whisk me past the smoldering remains of Newark and Detroit. Many Americans did buy guns in those years, enough to produce that largest-ever increase in gun sales, but the fact is, most of us fortunate enough to live outside the ghetto were as safe as rain. Many of us, no doubt, even saw a positive side to letting those people duke it out among themselves. This sense of remove from the battlefield has long been one of the fundamental obstacles to reasonable, effective gun legislation; it explains why our able representatives on Capitol Hill only feel empowered to crimp the free flow of guns when some hitherto unimaginable act of carnage demonstrates beyond doubt that violence knows no geographic or racial border.
Many of our most ardent supporters of firearms regulation became so a bit late, after the grotesque tragedy of gunshot violence had already speared their lives. Pete Shields founded Handgun Control Inc. after his son was shot dead in the infamous Zebra killings in San Francisco. Sarah Brady joined the cause after her son picked up a family friend’s revolver. A Sandston, Virginia, woman, Beryl Phillips-Taylor, began her crusade when she received a mailing from the NRA addressed to her son, who had been shot dead by a classmate two years before. “Hell flew in me,” she told a Baltimore Sun reporter. “There is a misconception by the general population that murder happens to others. The truth is that murder has no barriers. It can happen to your child just as easily as it happened to mine.”
Today more Americans of all races, classes, and ages are being touched by gun violence than ever before. The gunplay, indeed, seems to come closer and closer to home. In the course of my pursuit of Nicholas Elliot’s gun, I learned that the brother of an old high-school friend had been shot dead following an argument. On hearing this I remembered an afternoon in my teen years when this friend led me to his father’s bedroom and pulled a large auto-loading pistol from under the mattress, just to show me. I felt a mix of excitement and terror and asked him to please put it back. Another friend, an avid shooter, told me over lunch how as a college student he along with two friends had been kidnapped at gunpoint, but managed to escape. In June 1993, when Gian Luigi made his assault on a San Francisco law firm, a friend of mine was hard at work in his office a few floors above. In March 1992 a wealthy young bachelor who lived a few doors from my house was murdered in his company parking lot, shot once in the back of his head apparently by a car thief who wanted his $85,000 BMW. On the day the man’s mother put her dead son’s house on the market, the for-sale sign was emblazoned with cheery balloons and an extra signboard that called the place an “American Dream Home.”
The spreading violence evokes the forecasts made by AIDS researchers in the early days of the epidemic. As the disease gained momentum, forward-looking doctors warned that a time was fast approaching when the disease would cease to be a “gay” crisis; that every American, regardless of race, income, or sexual inclination, would soon know someone who was dying of the disease. The same, I think, can now be said of gun violence.
So what are we to expect in coming years if we continue on our current course? Will things get better on