The Level of Comfort

by Scott Ostrander

Training

My girlfriend and I were at her place in the country, talking over carry methods and the best approach for her to carry her 9mm Firestar. She has a fanny pack designed with a zippered holster, and she was telling me the typical fashion in which she would wear it, in front, on her right side, allowing her to retrieve the gun with her lead hand, her left. But she had never practiced drawing the weapon and dry firing before. We had covered all the safety rules for range practice, but never went over dry firing. She's just getting started, and doesn't like to make a move without talking over the proper methods and knowing the rules inside and out. A responsible attitude I have tried to maintain myself. We decided that last night was as good of a time as any, since we were all alone and could concentrate on the subject, without having to worry about her kids, et cetera. They were back home with their father. They've been divorced for over a year now. The idea of children being around, with their tendency to run around and jump into areas without care, is not at all conducive to safe firearms handling, so I have never worked with her when they are around. Last night seemed to be the perfect opportunity.

As we talked about it, she made a statement that sent up warning flags. "I can reach in and have the safety off by the time that I have the gun out of the holster."

I shook my head, and said that was the last thing she wanted to do.

I started to explain the proper drawing method. She wants to carry her gun in condition two, round in the chamber, hammer down. Her Firestar is single action only, so it requires the hammer to be cocked first, like a 1911A. She feels safer with the safety on as well, which is exactly the way I carry. Hammer down, safety on, a shell in the pipe. As long as it is consistently carried this way, the added safety beyond normal condition two should not be a concern or a hindrance if you should find yourself in a bad situation.

I asked her for her gun, so she handed the fanny pack to me, and I carefully retrieved the pistol and removed the magazine. I pointed the gun at the south wall, which is a partition into a bedroom off of her living room, with an outside wall behind that with nothing but trees for miles beyond. The wall was chosen particularly for these features. When the gun was in a safe direction, I removed the magazine, cycled the slide and locked the slide back with the catch. I placed the gun on the table, still facing south, and proceeded to remove the ammo from the magazine. The Firestar, like many other guns, has a built in safety, which will not allow the trigger to depress unless a magazine is fully inserted and locked in. As such, the only prudent thing to do was empty the magazine completely when dry firing. Anything else is plain foolish.

I inserted the empty magazine, and reached down to the table, grabbing up the 9mm snap-cap I like to use, to avoid wear on the firing pin of the gun. Still facing the south wall, I visual checked the snap cap as I loaded it into the breach, and let the slide snap back into place. I carefully dropped the hammer down, so that I could start from the same condition she would be, and show her how it should be done.

I went on to explain that the first and most important rule in drawing a gun from it's holster, is to avoid pointing it at your own body. With the fanny pack designed the way it is, however, this is a difficult thing to accomplish, which makes the rest of a proper draw even more important. I told her that the motion should be fluid, not rushed, the gun is drawn, your trigger finger pointed out, resting on the side of the trigger guard, the gun is moved toward the target as smoothly as possible, and only when you have the pistol pointed in the general direction, preferably nearly aimed perfectly on target, should you take off the safety. After the safety is off, I told her to use her support hand to cock the hammer, so that she would not loose her good grip with her lead hand. Then you finish your aim and hold there for a moment to assess what the next course of action should be.

I went on to say that should the thug still not stop, it's time to fire. At this point, and this point only, put your finger on the trigger, and carefully take up any slack. If they don't stop, fire two rounds in the center of mass, and see what effect it has. If it hasn't stopped them, fire another round at the head or pelvis. You need to stop them, and disabling their hip or head will most likely do just that.

I proceeded to demonstrate, went through the whole cycle again: gun drawn, aimed at the general target, safety off, cock the hammer, finish aiming, assess the situation, it's bad, put your finger on the trigger, fire twice at the center of mass...

BANG!

I wasn't a snap cap.

The shock is nearly indescribable. Here I was, trying to teach someone the safe handling of a pistol during the draw, and somehow, I had mistaken a live CorBon round for the snap cap I thought I had put in there.

There was no shock, I was rather surprised at that. I carefully examined the gun again, to make sure nothing more could go wrong, and found it empty. I removed the magazine and placed it on the table, facing south-west so that it would not be in my direction. I wasn't consciously plotting this out, my mind was doing it all by itself, going over hours of practice and reading and studying.

I checked the first wall, and found a perfect, tidy little 9mm hole, straight through. The wall was only covered in cheap fiberboard, and it did not even deform the bullet. I followed the path across the room, and found that the round had struck the bottom right corner of the circuit breaker box on the far wall, and had disintergrated there.

The damage was minimal.

I started to plod over the events again and again. Neither of us were in any panic at all over what had happened, which was good. This indicates that we could keep our heads when the unexpected dropped in. But was NOT good, NOT EVEN CLOSE, was how I could have possibly mistaken a live round for a snap cap!

The Aftershock

I processed the events over and over in my head, re-living every moment in a painstaking plodding. Every time it came down to what I had picked up off of the table, and placed into the chamber, my mind came back up, "snap-cap." I don't know how to argue with perceptions. I clearly believed I had put a snap-cap into the chamber, and nothing I could replay gave me any clue to the otherwise. My eyes said, "snap-cap", my memory said the same.

Reality, however, was blatantly stating that what I remembered was not what had happened.

That's when I started to kick myself mentally. I was furious at myself for not only screwing up that badly, but doing so while trying to demonstrate safe procedures to another. The sin was inexcusable in my mind, and frankly, it still is.

What happened? I'm still trying to sort it out. I wasn't tired, I wasn't fatigued, and I wasn't drinking or anything like it. I was in top focus, or at least it seemed, or I wouldn't have even started with her. Replay after replay of the event came down to a simple fact, somehow I had mistaken a live round, which was at least a foot from the snap-cap, for a snap-cap.

It was a stupid mistake, based entirely on negligence on my part, but there was something more to it, something I didn't figure on until this morning, after my mind had time to grind it through.

Further Tremors

Last night was a long night. The event kept running through my head, how could it not? I replayed it, over and over and over, until I thought my head was going to split with the effort. I ran through nightmare scenarios, things that could have happened. I got the shakes, more than once, and cried when I thought of the damage that could have been. When I did managed to sleep, there was no comfort, not even a tiny respite to ease my nerves. I woke in a cold sweat for the first time in my life, not once, but at least twice. I had no dreams that I can remember, but my girlfriend says that I was nothing short of utterly restless, tossing and turning all night long. My stomach felt like a hundred butterflies were fluttering around and my muscles are still jittery now as I type this.

All types of reactions to the event passed through my mind, from selling every gun I own and giving it all up, to ended my policy to carry when I'm out and about. I felt like I could no longer trust myself.

I felt, and still feel, that I have betrayed the people who have come to depend on me, not just my friends who ask me advice and depend on me to find an answer to their firearms questions, but to a vast majority of people I have never met, who come here online on my Firearms Web page every week, over 500 times a week, to read the material I have set up promoting the Right to Keep and Bear Arms. I am saying to these people over and over again, that firearms in the hands of The People, is one of the most fundamental rights we have, the teeth of the Constitution. And of course I want this to be done responsibly, with care, with knowledge and confidence.

I feel that I have seriously betrayed this creed.

Yet, I also realize that because I was following the basic rules of safety, especially rule number one: Never point a gun at anything you don't intend to shoot, that the damage was minimal. It was not minimal by accident, it was minimal on purpose. That wall was chosen for EXACTLY this type of accident. There was no one behind it, there was no dwelling anywhere near.

What betrayed me was my own senses, I mistook a live round for a snap-cap, a device especially designed to be used when dry-firing, which is essential for maintaining skill with a pistol. But it was not just a mistake in my senses. As I have thought it over, again and again, I have come to feel that I have hit upon one of the major factors in leading to this blatantly negligent event.

I was too comfortable.

I live with guns and handle them every day. I cannot think of a day in my life over the past 2 1/2 years where I have not handled a firearm. Aside from the eight year stint before that of being married to a rabid anti-violence, aka, anti-gun woman, firearms have been around me since I was tall enough to carry my first .22 rifle. Subtract the eight years that I was armless, that gives me 12 years of accident free firearms use, including hunting trips.

Someone said that there are two kinds of gun owners, those who have had an accidental discharge, and those that will.

I never believed this would happen to me, because I follow the rules: Never point a gun at anything you don't intend to shoot, always assume the gun is loaded, never put your finger on the trigger until you are going to shoot. Obviously, the second and third rules are modified slightly when dry-firing, they have to be. But the first rule is set in stone, no matter what. And this was the rule which saved my negligent act from becoming a tragedy, instead of just a shock to the system, a major embarrassment and a minor repair bill.

You can't repair people, at least not always. And it's not something you want to be forced to do.

Picking Up the Pieces

This story had to be told. People have to be reminded, again and again, that even though you think you have it all under control, you must remain CONSTANTLY aware of what you are doing, how it is being done, and most importantly, where the gun is pointed.

I still feel that I have betrayed the rules of firearms, and I make no excuses for it. It was negligence, certainly not intended, but isn't that how accidents always happen?

I don't know where I'm going from here. I know that I cannot give up what I believe in because I have made this major mistake. So I have to deal with it, and change my ways.

I have lost that level of comfort, and will most likely never regain it again. My advice to others must be, don't let that level of comfort develop in yourself. Check, check again, and again, until you are absolutely sure of yourself and the condition of the firearm.

When a awoke this morning, I knew that I had to take action and get back on the horse. If I didn't it would cripple me, rather than just haunt me. I retrieved my own carry weapon, removed the magazine, checked and re-checked and checked again that the barrel was clear, and dry fired at the same wall I had put a bullet through only a few hours before.

So I'm back on the horse, only not completely comfortable on it. Time will tell the final outcome on whether I will ride it through. I also know that I will take the wear on the gun as part of the deal, and I won't be using snap-caps ever again. I want to know that the barrel is EMPTY before I dry fire.

To those I feel I have betrayed, all I can say is use this story as an example. I'm going to be taking the empty casing and have it made into a keychain for myself, as a visual aid to help make the story real to others I tell it to. I made a mistake, one that I will not let myself forget, that must be told to others to help them understand.

Take it from me, it's one thing to imagine such an accident, and another to have it happen to you. Try to take this story to heart.

Am I taking the correct course, should I give up instead? I don't know for sure. I know that the damage was minimal because of planning and caution. Again, that was NOT an accident. That wall was chosen specifically for it's merit of having nothing of value behind it. Value being defined as human life.