If a man walked up to me and tried to rob me at gunpoint, and I was able to draw on him, get him to disarm himself, and contribute directly to his capture, all without firing a shot, I'd be pretty durn proud of myself.
And so would you.
Unlike most of the folks who have been commenting on Lumpy, I've actually been in his shoes.
Before I went into the Navy, my college career was interrupted when UT invited me to take a semester off to consider my options. During that educational interregnum, I worked the night shift at a convenience store in Maryville.
And I was held up at gunpoint.
Let me tell you folks, I don't care how big and bad you think you are, or how many Steven Seagal movies you've watched, if you haven't trained, practiced, or been in that situation before, you will freeze up. Period.
The guy walked up to the counter at a time when nobody else was in the store, pointed his gun at me and told me to empty the cash register.
I did.
I started to empty the drawer when he stopped me, and told me to take the drawer out so he could take the money himself. I pulled the drawer out and set it on the counter for him, and he proceeded to help himself to what little cash there was. At one point, he actually set his gun down on the counter to grab money from the drawer, and I had a choice to make. I could make a grab for his gun and try to disarm him, risking a confrontation that would lead to his death or mine, or I could stay still, let him go about his business, and hope he decided not to shoot me.
What would you have done?
I did nothing.
He finished cleaning out the drawer, picked up his gun, and headed for the door, telling me not to move for 5 minutes after he left. As he left the store, he paused by the door, and looked over at me for 5 of the longest seconds of my life. I had time to realize that my decision not to act had placed my life squarely in his hands, and that I was dependent on his goodwill for my survival. I knew that I had missed my one chance to take control of the outcome out of fear, and a false sense of security. I believed that if I didn't hassle him, he wouldn't shoot me.
I was gambling on the kindness of a criminal.
And I won. He walked out of the store without killing me, but that was the beginning of the end of my convenience store career.
Lumpy was in the same boat I was, but his actions were totally different. He had practiced; he had trained, and at the moment of truth, he acted. Instead of letting the criminal control the encounter, he took control. And even more impressively, he took such complete control that he didn't have to shoot the criminal. He took a situation that normally results in a dead citizen or a dead criminal and came out with a live citizen and a disarmed captured criminal.
Yeah, I'd be a bit proud of myself.
And so would you.
Posted by Rich at November 20, 2006 4:52 PM | TrackBack