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GUN FOR YOU? George
Copetas's Story The store had a floor mat at the entrance that rang a bell when a customer stepped on it. Right in front of that was an ice cream freezer. That's where I was—rearranging the ice cream. Suddenly I felt a breeze. I turned around and saw him. He had jumped over the mat so it wouldn't ring. He was wearing panty hose over his head, a watch cap, and a plaid shirt buttoned to the top. He had gloves on, and of course he had a gun, a Beretta. "Give me all the money or I'll blow your fucking head off." Those were his exact words. I wasn't too frantic at that time because the hammer was down. In those days, Berettas were not double-action automatics. The hammer had to be physically pulled back, cocked before he could fire it. So I knew I had at least a second or two. I tried to settle him down: "Hey, don't worry, the money is insured." I had played out in my mind being robbed: I would simply give him the money and he would walk out. Because I kept my gun behind the counter next to the cash register, I would wait until he got near the front door, pull my gun, and say, "Okay, now drop the money and get the hell out of here or we're going to have a problem." I had even planned what I would say. The cash register would be my shield, my cover. Those were my thoughts. He's going to be over there—fifteen feet away. I'm going to be safe behind the cash register. A perfect--for-me scenario. The real scenario was different. He walked around the counter with me. "Shit," I remember saying to myself. He's going to see everything, including my gun. He looked quickly but didn't see it. He said, "Hurry up, put all the money in a bag and give it to me or I'll blow your fucking head off." Second time he said that. He seemed to be getting nervous—the gun was inches from my head. I started pulling the money out to give him and I activated a silent alarm to the police department at the same time. He reached around behind me for my wallet. I said I only keep credit cards there. "Shut up or I'll blow your fucking head off," he said again. A customer walked in. "You—get down on the floor, put your hands over your head, straight out, look straight down. Don't move!" That customer could have ducked back out the door, but he froze up. He hit the deck, fast. Getting the money together took seconds but seemed like forever. Finally he had all the money and we were facing each other, maybe three feet apart. The gun was only inches away. Then he cocked it. "Shit, he's going to shoot me! I did what he wanted and the bastard is going to kill me anyway." I was scared to death but I knew what I had to do—get my gun. If I didn't, I knew it was over for me. "Distract him" was racing through my mind. I said, "Hey, wait a minute. I've got more money, you want it?" "Yeah, yeah, hurry up or I'll blow your fucking head off." I told him, "It's under the counter." I can see him to this day. I was down on one knee looking up at him, his gun inches from my face. Right between my eyes, and cocked. I put my hand under the counter. I could feel my gun, finally! A double-action Smith & Wesson .38. I didn't have to cock it, just pull the trigger. I was ready. Suddenly a feeling of cold contempt and hatred for the bastard ran through me. I knew he was going to kill me. He had cocked that Beretta. It doesn't take a mental giant to know what's ahead when a man has you on your knees, a gun on you, and he cocks it. He was looking down at me and over to the customer on the floor and at the same time trying to watch the door. He's going to execute me, I could feel it. He moved the gun slightly from between my eyes toward my ear and then back to my eyes. I prayed. I remember it clearly. "I hate to do this, Lord, but I'm asking—push that gun off my head once more, then I'm going to shoot him. It's me or him. Please, Lord, one more time, please let it go right for me. At that instant, that SOB moved the gun a fraction off my head. I pulled out my gun and rammed it into his gut and emptied it into him before he knew what happened. No aiming—just pulling the trigger. He went, "Huh," then his hands came to his chest. He dropped his gun. He spun around and went down—on the floor, on his knees with his head down. But he wasn't finished. His gun was on the floor next to him, still cocked. I rushed to the phone. Then I saw the customer still lying on the floor. He was shaking from head to foot, just shivering, looking straight down. I said, "Hey, it's okay, you can get up. I shot him." He turned over, looked at me, moaned a little, then urinated on himself. Poor guy, probably came in for a six-pack. I called the police and went back near the robber. I couldn't believe it. He was groaning, still alive. Six of my bullets in his chest and stomach and he's hanging on. I got scared all over again. His gun was close to him, still cocked. He's coughing up blood but still able to move. I didn't want to touch his gun or get my fingerprints on it, so I reloaded my gun. Then I was looking at him. Should I shoot him again? What if he goes for his gun? Shit, this is not at all the way I thought it would happen. Thank the Lord, the police showed up, coming from all directions. The first officer in the store, when he saw my gun, drew on me. I threw my gun on the counter and said, "No, no," and pointed to the robber. I'll never forget the scene. There was blood coming from his back, his gut, and his mouth. It was a bloody mess. We found blood on the liquor bottles for weeks. He died there, on the floor. What
George Did Wrong What
George Did Right 1. You're better off not pulling the trigger unless you can justify the shot by this standard: deadly force was your only chance to save your life or the lives of others, and you can articulate that in court. 2. There's nothing wrong in asking this question: "Am I ready to kill a man?" That question shows intelligence and nothing less. If your honest answer is no, don't complicate, don't obstruct your escape and survival with a gun. Any armed man or woman who faces a violent criminal is also facing life-or-death decisions that will be made in split seconds, and their mind will also be cluttered with intense emotions. In every gun incident I've been in, I was scared and physically shook when it was over. George Copetas says, "I still get a chill up my spine thinking about it and I'm still angry that I had to kill him." Our problem is not legal gun ownership; it's release of career criminals. The man cocking the gun and ready to kill George was on parole. I've had an objective with this section on guns beyond teaching: to make your decision to rely on a gun for protection is a difficult one, so that people choosing guns (as protection) will be only those who truly need a firearm and as a result will truly prepare themselves beyond just being armed. Extreme political positions have turned "guns" into a heated, complex issue. No organization has more experience with gun safety and the effective use of firearms than the National Rifle Association. As a matter of fact, that's why it was formed in the first place. During the Civil War, Union military leaders found that Union troops were far less accurate with their rifles than Confederate troops, and they feared that had it not been for the South's lack of material resources, the Confederates might have won the war due to better marksmanship. So the NRA was formed in the North to improve the marksmanship of Union troops. The NRA's mandate for over a century has been hands-on education in the safe and effective use of firearms. Its leadership in gun safety has resulted in a 56 percent decrease in fatal gun accidents since the 1930s in spite of a quadrupling in gun ownership of all types of guns.
The number of gun owners in America is commonly reported as 60 million, but the real number is closer to double that. With a gun in hand, an untrained citizen can act foolishly brave and reckless, resulting in tragic accidents. With training from the experts and meeting the five criteria, guns save lives. The following combined NRA and law enforcement efforts would be in the best interest of American gun owners. Law enforcement training conditions police officers through concentration and discipline to be certain before they open fire. The core result of shoot/no-shoot training is a split-second slowdown of the instinct to open fire, which results in reduced accidental shootings of innocent people. This same high standard of training in firearms should be required for citizens to receive licenses to carry concealed weapons and should be available for citizens who keep loaded firearms in their homes for protection. This type of training might have prevented an accidental shooting on November 8, 1994, in Louisiana. A fourteen-year-old girl was at home with a friend when her parents returned home. Expecting to come home to an empty house and sensing someone was there, the father drew his gun. The house was dark and the daughter jumped out of the closet and shouted, "Boo!" Her father, startled, frightened, and thinking his daughter was at a friend's house, immediately fired and killed her. Her last words in his arms were, "I love you, Daddy." Most firearm experts are within the ranks of the NRA and law enforcement. A curriculum for citizens that matches the standards for law enforcement should be developed through the combined expertise and resources of these two groups. The NRA and law enforcement could together further decrease the number of tragic accidents with guns. If such an effort happens, it will depend largely on first separating politics from guns. Then, bringing together law enforcement and the NRA in the most skillful and disciplined firearms training known today, the shoot/no-shoot program. Shoot/no-shoot prepares men and women with the mind-set crucial to making a split-second life-or-death decision with a gun.
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