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1/28/2013 9:16:00 AM Background check for entire familly
I find some things very interesting. When the government wanted everyone to reduce their smoking habit because of the cancer it caused, they put a very high tax on cigarettes. When the government wanted to reduce the drunk driving accidents that usually caused death to an innocent person, they put a high tax on alcohol. I’m not sure either of those taxes did much good, research will hopefully tell us the truth. Why then, with this gun and ammunition problem don’t they put an enormous tax on both? How much does a pack of cigarettes cost now and what percent of that cost is tax? The same with alcohol and why wouldn’t they put that same percent on the guns and ammunition? Having said all that and all the talk about a background check, would a background check have done any good in the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting? Should a background check not only have been done on the mother who bought the many guns and ammunition, but also her family? What I mean. Here is a woman who thought she needed all these deadly weapons in her home, bought them, supplied them with loads of ammunition, but did she forget about her son? Reportedly and allegedly a son who had many problems and probably would not have passed a background check if he had been the person who did purchase that equipment. It all makes me wonder how in the world are they going to solve this problem we have in this country? You listen to any large city radio station in the morning and the first thing they report are the killings with guns of people the night before. Rockford is the same; Chicago is scary as are the reports from other big cities. I was raised around guns. I’ve told you many times about when our little house burned when I was a kid, my father had so many cases of gun shells under the attic stairs, that the firemen couldn’t get up the stairs to put out the fire because of the gun shells going off. My father partially fed his large family with his gun. I’ve told you all this before. Squirrels, rabbits, doves, quail and those horrid pheasants that were full of buckshot. I dreaded eating mother’s pheasant cacciatore with the bird that my father shot. It was awful to bite down into a piece of pheasant and have your silver fillings hit a piece of buckshot. I hated pheasant cacciatore. When I came to the farm, “The Farmer” had his father’s shot gun and I immediately saw the need for a gun on a farm and even though “The Farmer” hardly ever put a bullet in that gun, I did. I had a hen house right under our second floor bedroom window and always, in the middle of the night I could hear something in the hen house and sure enough the next morning there would be a dead hen and any eggs that were left lying around had been eaten. As always, I had a plan: I took the screen off our bedroom window in order to be able to get a clean view and maybe, just maybe a clean shot with Grandpa Prill’s shot gun. Mind you, I never had anything but a BB gun in my hands before. But I had a plan. That night I put some ground meat under the bedroom window which was more than one story high. I had a lamp hanging out of the window that I could turn on in order to see who was eating the bait. I slept soundly through the night and when I looked out the window the next morning, my thief had come and gone. He not only took the ground meat, but another of my Leghorn hens and probably laughed at me as he scattered the hen’s white feathers all over the place. The next night’s trap was ground meat on tinfoil so I could be awakened by the noise of the intruder. At any rate, the thief played right into my hands and when I heard the noise the tinfoil was making, I jumped out of bed, grabbed Grandpa Prill’s shot gun, threw up the window and at the same time turned on the light that would shine on the bait. Immediately, I saw the “skunk” and immediately I took aim, pulled the trigger and practically ended up on the wall behind me as the shotgun let the “chicken thief” have it. Everyone in the house woke up and immediately, by the smell of things, we knew that the rest of our Leghorn hens would be safe. “The Farmer” and I have a “FOID” card which allows us to own a gun, but I don’t know why we do. I realize the problem of guns being used by the wrong people will probably never be solved and that is too bad. We have become a violent country, much like the old Wild West, and I sure don’t have the answer for such violence. Ciao!
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