Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Have you ever "gone fer your gun" in self defense?

Dayom. I had a friend LEO from Odessa years ago had that kinda happen to him but blew perp away. Guys name was Tony Suttle, spitting image of Robert Mitchum.

Speaking of Odessa. I 20 & crane hwy (385) I'm waiting to meet a guy from work to get some supplies. Junkie comes up and ask for cash, I tell him no, I don't carry cash. He walks a little closer and says "but you got an ATM card don't you" all I had to do was pull the Kimber from between the seats and rest it across my lap and he got the point. 2 years later he's still working the same corner trying to get a ride to El Paso because he can't find work in the biggest oil boom in the country.

Rats, I mean Dimocrats.

Domestically? Never.

But there was this one time in Falujah....

YOU WIN. NEXT!

Aww, hail. Evahdamnbody know dat!

A few times. The only two I'd talk about involved the same family renting across the street. We live in a decent cul de sac, but the original owners of the house across the street moved out about 10 years ago. He couldn't get the jacked up price out of his house he thought it was worth, so it's had about 7 "families" in and out of it.

Anyway, one day there was a new bunch moving in, and three huge canines running around the neighborhood. Two were St Bernards and one was a huge black wolf mix. My kids had (wisely) came running in the house, announcing the newbies unexpected arrival and scarey dogs, so out I go to greet our new neighbors.

I went over, introduced myself to a very big guy, and asked if his dogs were friendly. He said, "sometimes". Big or not, that response changed the direction and nature of our conversation. I did try to keep it as neighborly as I could, and offered any help he might need in building a kennel he said was in his plans.

I had three labs, three kids, and a wife, and did my best to communicate the concept that what was mine belonged on my property, his dogs did not, and they might not return to his alive if they came over for a visit. I hate days like that.

His dogs would get out every so often, more at first, but quite a bit less after I started open carrying a Glock 20. I'd immediately know when they were out since my dogs would go nuts. One day they were out doing laps around my house, so out I go, 20 in hand. I give a yell and that nasty wolf-mix heads for home, one St Bernard comes up and wants petted, but the other one starts snarling and foaming at the mouth. The woman living over there, sticks her head out the door and calls for the dogs and the calm St Bernard runs home. The nasty one's not sure what it wants to do, so I start walking it out of my yard. It all goes well until she goes back into the house and the dog turns and starts walking towards me. I start backing up and yelling for the woman. All the time the dog is slathering at the mouth, and doing some kind of bark/snarl/growl. I figured I was going to have to kill it. I was nearly all the way back to the side of my house and it was about 18 inches off the end of my muzzle. I had about 5 pounds of a 5.5 pound trigger taken up, when she finally comes out of the house and calls it. It went. She hollers, it wouldn't hurt you. I yelled back, she was right since I was half a second away from killing it.

A few months go by, I'm still carrying the Glock, and I'm out in my garage up on the work bench after stowing some boxes in the attic, when in stomps the big guy hollering something about somebody letting the decent St Bernard out of their house. He obviously thought that somebody was me. Somehow seeing that Glock quickly appear by my side as I jumped down off the bench to meet him, changed accusations into a genuine discussion. We talked a bit about locks and deadbolts and security systems. I told him a 10mm Glock was a good thing to have around, too. Then he went back home to consider how topics discussed might fit into his need for better home security.

They moved out in the middle of the night about a month later. We never got a forwarding address.

A few times.

First time, I'm just out of college and coming home from work and notice a pickup sitting on the side of the road just before our drive up to the house, that sits about 500 yds off the road. I'm going up the drive and scanning the pastures on either side and notice that I've got a cow with six legs and two of those legs have blue jeans on them. I just keep going up the drive like normal because nearest gate into that pasture is up within 50 yds of house. I get to gate, fling it open and haul ass across the pasture headed towards the guy who'd been hiding behind my cow, now running like hell for the front fence. As I get close to him, he starts trying to reach in his denim jacket for something. My window's down and I poke my Super Blackhawk .44 Mag out at him and yell at him to freeze as I'm skidding to a stop. He sees the .44 and throws up his hands. I get out and make him get face down and I end up pulling a nice S&W Model 19 out of a shoulder holster he's wearing. Turns out he's the ex-husband of the woman who owns the place next to us, and they were supposed to split their herd, but she'd sold the whole herd at the sale barn and we'd bought a few of them and he was looking for them. Dumbass coulda called us and we might have helped him. He was all pissed off that I'd pulled a gun on him, even though he was trying to pull one on me. He called my Dad and started to fuss but Dad shut him up and said he was lucky he didn't pull that crap on him because he'd have shot him dead.

Second time, wife and I were headed home one night and stopped in a Zippy Mart in Sheffield, Alabama, for gas. These two "bruthas" pulled up next to us and the big one got out and started talkin' some schit, and I told him to stay the hell away from us. He came around the gas pump towards me and met the barrel of my Sig. His eyes damn near popped completely outta his head, he dropped a knife that I hadn't even seen, and in an instant jumped clean over the trunk of their car, haulin' ass outta there. Then I saw my wife had pulled her S&W Centennial on the driver. He bailed and the last we saw of them was [bleep] and elbows. They abandoned their car. The cashier in the Zippy Mart had seen the whole thing on a security camera and had already called the cops. They caught both the essobees.

A couple of months after that, I got into a gunfight with a guy that was with three others that were trying to rustle some of our cattle on a Sunday morning, when they thought we would be in church (where we normally were). They got away, but I had hit their truck twice with my Blackhawk. Two years later I was paid a visit by a couple of FBI agents. Said they'd broken up a burglary and cattle rustling ring. They asked if I still had that Blackhawk. They'd found a .44 slug in the firewall of a truck that matched the description of the truck I had given to the Sheriff's investigators two years before. I not only still had the Blackhawk, I also had some of the same box of ammo. Turns out it was one of the bullets I'd fired at that truck two years earlier.

There was an incident in the parking lot of a Kroger's in Huntsville, Alabama, on a New Years Eve that didn't go the way a couple of bruthas wanted.

Last time was five years ago, I was awakened by the sound of our front door being forced open in the little town of Ethel, Missouri. I grabbed my Mossberg A590, ran downstairs butt naked and got to the foyer just in time to jack a round in the chamber and shove the muzzle into the face of the first crud through the door. They ran over each other getting the hell outta there and my German Shepherd and I chased them down the road for most of a block, before I decided I didn't want to be caught nekkid in the middle of Hwy 149. They were hobo's off the railroad that ran behind our house.

Damn, I am lucky to lead a sheltered life, no doubt about it.

Sycamore

Having been in a gunfight in my younger years.....without a gun.......I generally pack iron these days. I'm no Clay Allison, tho.

I've had to show my .44 to some limpdicks. Not big city stuff.....out in the hills, no less. Apparently some think you're an easy victim especially if it's only you with no cops or witnesses out in the sticks. I don't like strange, out-of-place dudes walking up to my truck window out in BFE.

One time in Wyoming, I was scouting for antelope in the sagebrush hills alone. I was 20 miles from the pavement, in rolling sagebrush hills in truly BFE country. I came over a hill and into a draw, and there was an older big 4-door car with dark windows parked there. I thought odd that such a vehicle was waaaaaay out there on a 2-track. Couldn't even imagine how or why it got there. As I drove past, it started up and followed me. And never let up. I thought maybe it was somebody lost and wanted to follow me out, but what an odd vehicle for WY plus WTF was it doing waaaaay out there in the desert. Maybe it was somebody hiding from the cops and was lookin' for a victim with no witnesses when the perceived opportunity arose. It even followed me thru rougher wash crossings and hills where it drug bottom. At each fork in the road, it followed me. I even chose rougher 2-tracks to try to shake it. Couldn't see inside it cuz the dark windows. After about 5 miles of this sheet, I had had enough and pulled onto a hillside above the 2 track. Grabbed my bonafides which is always on the seat next to me, hopped out and stood next to my truck and let the sunlight reflect off that beautiful stainless 629. The car slowed way down as it passed me on the original 2-track, studying things, and then accelerated and drove away. Never did figure out what that mickey mouse sheet was about.

Makes me all the more itchy to get my CCP...

Anybody in central Minnesota have a recommended place? The price to beat is $75 from a local guy.

Back in the day when fanny pack holsters were common I had a guy stare at my wife and me while acting like he was using a pay phone. I slid my hand in my holster ready to pull my SIG P220. The guy lost all interest in me and my wife. I didn't pull it out but he knew what was next.

Long story short: Had to take a greyhound from Fayetteville, NC to Detroit during an ice storm (no other way to get back). While sitting on the commode, two pair of feet held a conference outside the door and then the big pair of feet jerked the stall door open and clicked a switchblade. Only to stare in the end of a muzzle and exclaimed with a big pair of saucer sized eyeballs, "Aw shxt!", where as the little pair of feet behind said, "What's wrong man?".... Answer from big feet, "The MF done got a gun, be cool man, we be gone, we be gone!" Exit stage right at a high rate of speed.

What was funny was as I was coming out of the bathroom a city cop came in and asked me if I was OK. When I said yes, he said he had been watching those two watch me. I told him I had seen them also. He said they came out the bathroom door on a run, hit the front door at a high rate of speed, hung a right and by the time he got there, they were two blocks down the street and still trying to hit passing gear.

He said he was not going to ask me what went on in there (NC at that time did not have a CCW law) as he was pretty sure I did not want to explain. I agreed that I really appreciated that. He then said that he sure would like to discuss it over a beer sometime after he found out his police sergeant was an old military SF buddy of mine and that put things in perspective.

Couple others, but this one was funniest, "Bringing a knife to a gunfight!" even from a sitting position.

Same place I suspect. Elk Heights rest stop in 91. I was heading back to Anacortes after a few days of fishing some of the desert lakes. About 2330 stopped there. I was the only car except for one at the far end. I tucked my 1911 in my shorts, used the head and as I came out three latino gents told me to stop they wanteed to talk and one pulled out a buck knife too far away to use it. I pulled out the 1911 and their tune changed and said they were sorry and it was a misunderstanding. I told them not to move and dialed 911 from the pay phone (remember those?).

Troopers answered, I told them the situation and that I was armed and they had one there in less than 5 minutes. These guys stood there the whole time. He put the spotlight on us and asked me to set the pistol down and step away. Approached us for the story (and told the other guys to shut up). He checked my drivers license and saw my mil-id (no CCW then) and told me "thanks I'll take care of this, have a nice evening" and sent me on my way.

Key issue is not price, but quality of the instruction on CCW, use of deadly force etc.

Cost of the course is cheap no matter who gives it, compared to civil suit/criminal charges for pulling in the wrong place or circumstances!

I'll +1 that. Some of the CHL instructors I've met have been scary in their ignorance of the law, guns and shooting.

Not me but I know the lady who got into her car and found Richard Allen Davis in her back seat! She pulled out her gun and shot at him, but unfortunately missed. He had escaped from Napa State Mental Hospital.

In case you don't know this evil guy murdered Polly Klaas a 12 year old a few years later. He snuck into her house and kidnapped her. He had a wrap sheet a mile long and was responsible for California's three strikes your out law.

Punishment is increased for your second felony and when you break the law for a third time it's life in prison for you with no parole. This is where all the sob stories about someone getting life for stealing a pizza come from. The rest of the country needs this law accept that the punishment for the third strike should be death.

I have but the scariest one is the only one I'll tell about



this guy from Kenai comes up to FBKS once in awhile and we drink beer together. Couple of times I thought I was gonna have to plug him if he went for that last brewski.


He seems a determined sort, sorta Chuck Norrish, I'm not sure a bullet would keep him away from beer.

I'm a student of Massad Ayoob. I appreciate the advice, though.