Nibble, Nibble Little Mouse! Who’s That Burgling My House?
D.A. Ridgely on Aug 20th 2008
Leda Smith heard someone breaking into her home, so she found the revolver kept by her bed, confronted the burglar and forced him at gunpoint to call 911. Then she and the seventeen year old intruder waited until the state police arrived to take him away.
Filed in The Basement, The Bureau
Having and being able to use a firearm does such a nice job of equalizing things for women (and a lot of men) who would otherwise become a helpless crime victim.
Don’t we need some tut-tutting about how, while it worked out OK this time for this little old lady, for the most part little old ladies are much more likely to be killed by guns in their homes than experience any good outcomes?
(Here at Chez Seamus, when my wife mentioned this story at the dinner table a couple of nights ago, my children all broke into big smiles, there were several exclamations of “Awesome!” and “Sweet!”, and I suddenly had to fend off nagging along the lines of “Why don’t we own any guns, Dad? What if a burglar tried to break in our house? Don’t you love us?” Trying to explain that we live in an affluent neighborhood with virtually no crime was beside the point, because what they really want is to be able to go down to the firing range and blaze away at a man-shaped target. Sometimes I wish they’d just nag me to buy a Wii like everybody else’s kids.)
Are you sure, Seamus, the reason you’re comparatively safe isn’t instead because the other houses in your affluent neighborhood look like better pickings from the front yard? (Just asking in the interest of scientific rigor, mind you.) Besides, what’s wrong with hobby shooting? Especially when your affluent neighborhood is so close to the NRA national headquarters where there’s an excellent firing range?
We neither confirm nor deny the presence of firearms in my household. Would-be burglars shouldn’t think they’ll find guns to steal when they know we’re not home any more than believe they won’t find us armed to the teeth when we are.
As for more little old ladies likely to be killed by their own weapons, you ask that as though that were a bad thing. Having had four aunts on my father’s side who lived well into their nineties (Aunt Martha finally checking out at 104), I have some mixed feelings on the subject. Especially now that they’re all, at long last, gone to glory and not a one of them left me so much as a nickel.
Believe me, my children are well aware of the proximity of the NRA firing range and keep reminding me that I should take advantage of it. You may be on to something with your suggestion that our house is safe from burglary because of the greater attractiveness of the neighbors’ dwellings. I find that leaving my lawn unmowed and storing old furniture and large appliances on the carport is a lot cheaper than a contract with an alarm company–or a gun.