One day back when I was a young kid, my grandfather was reaching for his hat on the high shelf of the front-hall closet when he felt something next to it. Much to my utter astonishment, he pulled down an unloaded handgun.
“What’s this?” Gramp, a retired Boston cop, asked my father.
“I got it while I was in the service,” Dad replied. “Thought it might be good to keep around.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” replied Gramp, looking around at his growing brood of grandchildren as he slipped the weapon into his pocket.
End of discussion. And never again was there a gun in our household.
All of which is a roundabout way of conceding that I come to the never-ending debate over firearms in Maine from a decidedly non-gun perspective.
Not anti-gun, mind you – I have no quarrel whatsoever with those law-abiding folks who hunt, target shoot, collect weapons or live far enough out in the woods that a firearm provides them an extra layer of security against things that go bump in the night.
Still, this week’s focus on concealed weapons permits in Maine – and in particular, state Sen. Eric Brakey’s, R-Auburn, effort to do away with them altogether – has me flummoxed.
Brakey would have us believe that the issue here is actually about wearing a coat, not packing a pistol. Since it’s already legal in Maine to “open carry” a weapon for all to see, his proposed legislation would, as he put it at Wednesday’s packed hearing, “simply (allow) a legal gun owner to carry, while wearing a jacket, without a permit.”
If only it were that simple.
In reality, what Brakey and those lined up behind him want is for Maine to say the heck with it, if you want to carry a gun, go ahead and carry a gun. And if you want to hide it in your pocket, your waistband, an ankle holster, have at it.
But as you go about trying to avoid shooting yourself in the, whatever, answer me one question: Why?
Why do some people feel the need to lock and load every time they step outside their humble abode, while others don’t?
Now, I’m not talking about people who, say, deposit large amounts of cash at the end their workday and thus have a justifiable fear of being robbed.
Nor do I disagree that there are times – protection from abuse orders come to mind – when a handgun for defensive purposes might determine who lives and who dies.
But I was struck by one of the numbers tossed out in Augusta this week: According to the Maine State Police, 36,000 concealed weapons permits have been issued by the state, including 12,000 to non-residents.
This is in addition to the countless others (really, no one keeps count) handed out by local law enforcement agencies to anyone who is not a felon, is not involved in a domestic violence dispute, has earned a gun safety certificate, is of “good moral character” and answers correctly to a host of other questions required by state law.
Put more simply, tens of thousands of Mainers go about their daily business armed. And if Brakey’s bill passes, you’ve got to think that number will increase by a long shot.
Which brings us back to that “why” question.
Do they carry a concealed weapon because they’re truly afraid that without it, something terrible might happen to them?
If so, they have my sympathy. In the 38 years I’ve lived in Maine, I’ve never – not once – found myself in a situation where I thought, “Darn, if only I had a gun in my inside coat pocket.”
Do they harbor a Walter Mitty-esque fantasy that they’ll one day find themselves in the middle of a mall shooting or terrorist attack and save the day with a single, perfectly aimed shot at the crazed perpetrator?
I’ve had those fantasies, too. But deep down, I know the more guns you introduce to an out-of-control situation like that, the greater the chance that innocent people are going to get hurt.
Does the feel of a gun against their chest or hip or leg – or, for that matter, in their pocketbook – make them feel more powerful in a world that, according to the talking heads on cable news, gets crazier by the day?
Maybe so, although you’ve got to wonder what happens to that feeling the moment you pull out your weapon and actually shoot someone. My guess is it quickly gives way to a sense of helplessness.
Brakey’s bill, with its 96 co-sponsors from both sides of the aisle and its support from the LePage administration’s Department of Public Safety, stands a better chance of passage than past failed attempts to make Maine a so-called “constitutional carry” state.
That will mean more armed people walking the streets of Maine, not fewer.
That will mean we know less, not more, about who those folks are and why they feel compelled to be armed.
And yes, with more guns in more pockets, it will mean the risk of civilians shooting other civilians – accidentally, intentionally and everywhere in between – will go up, not down.
That’s why I’m rooting for the likes Sen. Stan Gerzofsky, D-Brunswick, and Portland Police Chief Michael Sauschuck.
Gerzofsky, a member of the criminal justice committee, rightly reminded Brakey that while the Second Amendment allows U.S. citizens to bear arms, it doesn’t protect the right to “hide a gun.”
“That’s what you’re proposing,” Gerzofsky said. “You’re proposing to allow people to hide a gun.”
Sauschuck, who spoke in opposition to Brakey’s bill on behalf of the Maine Chiefs of Police Association, told lawmakers he’s turned down 47 requests for concealed weapon permits in the past three years alone.
Observed Sauschuck, “Common sense would say, why wouldn’t you have a permitting process before allowing someone to conceal a firearm in the community?”
Speaking of common sense, I never did find out exactly what happened to that pistol after Gramp left with it that day.
But I know he didn’t keep it.
Gramp, the finest cop I ever met, hated guns.
And he feared nothing.
Send questions/comments to the editors.
