2013

The Beautiful Wisdom Of
Hillbilly Gun Control

In rural Maryland, those that might be labeled "hillbillies" and proud of it included several of our neighbors. Among their prized possessions were a Ford pickup truck with rifle-rack in the back window. Their home's family room included a gun cabinet the size of a classic wardrobe case or refidgerator. Nearly all of their hunting gear was on display, except perhaps for one or two in various stages of assembly for cleaning in the workshop off the garage.

This gun cabinet had large glass panes, clearly showcasing the lethal contents. Keys to these cabinet doors were always in the lock. Other components of their robbery-prevention posture included a well-trained German Shepherd and his master being the size of an American football linebacker.

All the neighbors knew of the cabinet, as it was visible once inside the front door.

Shortly after turning twelve years old, this family took me with them on a casual hunt just over the hill in our neighborhood into a little valley. Despite my reluctance, the father insisted that this was all arranged with my parents. Essentially, attendance on my part was obligatory.

[As a point of distinction, had I known this other family as a teen or adult, they likely would have suggested that the patriarch of their family be referred to as a good ol' boy rather than hillbilly. Such nuances would have been lost on our family at the time, with my mother and father having been raised, educated and lived in New York City and Philadelphia, respectively.]