I want to share with you guys a story of a recent trip I went on.
As you know (if you follow any of my feeds or anything, or you just know me), I'm super pro-gun and pro-carry. It started as an annual hobby: we'd go shooting for summer camp in high school every year. That was cool. Then I moved to Georgia - it was normal for a lot of people to carry there, so I had some practice. By the time I was 21, I had already made up my mind to apply for my concealed carry. It took a while - between having to take a class, obtaining finger prints, a background check, a passport photo, complete my application and pay a lot of money throughout the process, I finally was able to submit my application. On top of that, actually getting a firearm wasn't easy either. I was a Florida resident living in a different state, where they didn't sell guns to you if you lived out of state and had no license to carry. It took me a month to actually get my gun once I'd bought it because of Florida's 3-day wait period (you have to wait 3 days after buying your gun to pick it up) - and trying to plan that in between full-time classes and work.
The day I actually picked up my Bersa 9 mm was a proud day for me. A lot of research and a lot of practice had gone into my decision to get my gun, and I loved it from day 1. Guns are fun to shoot - but I also liked having the knowledge and the comfort that having a gun could at least give me a shot (no pun intended) of not becoming a victim should anything ever happen. Going out of town, traveling, staying at hotels, even being at home alone just felt a lot more secure knowing that I had a weapon that was both intimidating and that was powerful enough to hurt someone that was trying to hurt me. Especially being a woman - a woman that goes to stranger's houses for a living to entertain at parties and events - it just felt nice to know that I had something in between me and danger. I became increasingly more pro-carry after actually being license to carry a gun (and doing so). Bachelorette party? Carry. Trip to charleston with a friend? Carry. Walking around Atlanta? Carry. I'd worked hard for my permit and I'd trained to use my weapon. The campus carry bill was exciting for me. I hoped it would be passed. I'm pretty sure a lot of my friends thought I was a little too over the top about wanting to carry my gun places - but again, after having a firearm and getting used to the security that it lent me, it was hard to leave it at home. I trusted my ability to protect myself a lot more with a gun than I did with pepper spray or a knife.
As far as actual self defense goes (and I know, this isn't great), I didn't know a ton about it. Someone attacks you? Make noise and try and fight them off. Go for the areas that hurt. I knew stuff like that. I recently took a class in self defense and I had no idea that I might actually have to use it sometime soon - but I guess that's the point. You never know why you might need to use it. Something I appreciated about the class was that they did address having a firearm. I had a gun and I knew how to use it, but it's hard to predict that you'll know the appropriate thing to do in a situation where you actually need it. I learned a lot about how you shouldn't pull your gun out obviously - how you need to read the situation - and when to make the choice either to run for it, or if the person needs to not be able to run after you.
The day after the self defense class, some girlfriends and I decided to go on a camping trip in Alabama. I've never been hammocking before, but I thought it might be fun. We built a fire, brought out wine, and set up our camp site. We were sitting around the fire in our chairs when my friend and I were laughing about what might happen if something actually did go down. "You've got the gun. You'll distract them and keep them away while I run to the car. And then you get to the car."
It was around midnight when I heard something and asked, "What am I hearing?"
"Coyotes," One of the girls said, obviously much more comfortable with camping and much less worried about the coyotes than I was. All I could picture was coyotes eating me in my sleep before saying, "Uhh.... I don't like coyotes." One of the other girls piped up that she wasn't the biggest fan, either. The hammocks weren't high - the fire was dying and the wood was low - we decided to go home. We started picking up and putting out the fire.
But I'd never been in a hammock! I crawled in just to spend some time seeing what it was like. It was comforting - rocking gently between the trees. But I was glad we were going home. It was dark and a little creeepy.
The occasional car had passed by on the dirt road at this point, but this one was louder. I peeked my head out of the hammock and saw the girls were over by the fire, putting it out and listening to. I turned off my headlight. Rocks and gravel rolled underneath big tires of an obviously large vehicle. I looked at the girls again, then back at the road. Something wasn't right. "Get to the car," one of them shouted. I leaped out of the hammock and grabbed my backpack full of insulin immediately. I pulled my gun out of its holster and hid it in my sweater; I ran to the car, ready to bolt. I hid back behind the headlights of my friend's car, slightly in the dark. A huge truck blocked the entrance to the gravel exit of the campsite and a loud voice shouted over the intercom, "THIS IS THE TUSKEGEE NATIONAL PARK SERVICE. PUT YOUR HANDS UP and QUIET. STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE." I could hardly see because the lights of the giant truck were on high beams and they were so bright. Adrenaline was pumping through my body at this point. My hand gripped my gun harder, finger off the trigger, but ready to shoot. My hands weren't up, but I was off to the side. The other girls had their hands up. "STAY WHERE YOU ARE. DOES ANYONE HAVE ANY WEAPONS". I said nothing - I didn't want anyone knowing I had a gun. One of the girls shouted "Yes." Silence enveloped the 4 of us. "No... tell them it's a knife. A pocketknife. Or something." I muttered. "Just not a gun." "We're not a threat." One of them said. "Don't tell them," I said as I shook my head, hand still on my gun. They kept demanding to know what the weapon was. I thought. No. "Ask to see their identification," I said, remembering my mom's old lessons to me to never trust someone saying they were law enforcement - especially until they could show some identification. "You can have the site if you want it." One of the girls said. "We were just leaving." "DO YOU HAVE ANY WEAPONS OR ALCOHOL. IT IS ILLEGAL TO HAVE ALCOHOL ON THE PREMISES." I later learned this wasn't true, but part of me legitimately thought "Shit, am I seriously gonna go to jail tonight for drinking and possession of a weapon?" We were all silent. I was ready to shoot or bolt depending on what happened next.
A woman in a pink shirt with ratty brown hair smoking a cigarette got out of the car, laughing. "Aww... we're just kidding!" She said. I was so angry. My hand was still on my gun, hidden in my sweater. I walked closer to her. "You need to leave. Now." I said. My friend was nicer. "You guys have a good night," she said. The lady threw the cigarette on the ground. "Aw, we're just out driving around. You guys have a good night." We tried to catch their plates but the lights around the plate were busted out as the truck backed up and away - and we bolted, hurrying to pack up the rest, not wanting to stick around in case anyone came back.
And what's more: one of the girls called 911 right away to tell them that someone was visiting campsites impersonating an officer and was likely drunk and tried to give as good of a description of the people and vehicle as possible. 911 said: "That's cool... well, I don't know what you want us to do." "Well, we're leaving. Just wanted to let you know," the girl said. "You're leaving? Really?" 911 asked. "Uh, yeah. We're leaving. Of course we're leaving."
It seems like such a silly situation, but being in that situation - it was scary. We had no way of knowing who these people were: Threat? Not a threat? It was unpredictable and we were 4 women alone in the woods. It was pitch black except for the bright vehicle lights. I didn't know if these people had a gun, or if they meant harm. I was thankful for that self defense class though, so that I didn't just pull my gun out in plain sight and potentially make myself a target. And I was also thankful for my gun - thankful I didn't have to use it, but thankful I had it, in case things became worse. I'm glad we're all safe, and I'm glad it was just some people pulling a joke. But it could have been a lot worse... impersonating an officer isn't cool.
So, yeah. It's situations like that that there's NO way that you could predict that make me very, very glad that I conceal carry.
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