Black on Black Crime…Lost in the Shadows of White on Black Crime

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The Color Purple..

Her name is Shelly. I met her outside a supermarket yesterday. She and another woman were taking donations in exchange for poppies to celebrate Veteran’s Day. When she asked me if I wanted to donate, I told her I would love to as my husband is a Purple Heart veteran of the Operation Iraq Freedom War. As I dove into my purse searching for every last bit of change I could find, the lady standing with her asked me to thank my husband for his service, to which I replied, I certainly will. Shelly asked me to do the same, and commented that her son was also a Purple Heart.

I asked her to tell her son thank you from me for his service as well, the smile on my face grew as I felt a sort of connection with this woman…this mom…I’d never before met. She hesitated for a moment, then said she would. Something in her voice caught my attention. There was an uneasiness in her voice.

I stopped searching for change, and looked up at her. “He’s dead,” she said, as our eyes met.
The sorrow that filled those eyes, was a sorrow that undoubtedly will ebb deep inside of her heart till she takes her last breath.

She tried to hold herself steady, as my jaw dropped to my chest. How lucky I am, I thought in that moment, that my soldier came home. I felt such heartache for Shelly. I slowly put my purse down onto the sidewalk, stepped gingerly toward her, and gently wrapped my arms around her. I held her for a moment. What else was I supposed to do? What else could anyone have done?

I released my embrace, suddenly feeling that my gesture was grossly inadequate for the circumstances. I wasn’t sure whether making eye contact was the right thing to do. I wanted to somehow take her pain away, but felt so helpless.

Shelly’s friend stepped toward us, told me “This is Shelly,” and explained that her son had died in combat. I reached for Shelly again, and held her for a few seconds, whispering quietly in her ear how sorry I was for her loss. She nodded her head as our embrace ended; I assume wanting to say something, but no words came from her. She looked out across the parking lot as I tossed my few quarters, nickels and pennies into the bin, and took a poppy from her friend. I sensed she was trying to hold her head high for her lost son. Maybe to show how proud she was of him, I don’t really know what she was thinking.

I thanked the ladies, placed my purse into my grocery cart, and started out across the parking lot. As I walked, two things kept coming into my mind; my soldier came home…hers did not. How truly fortunate I was that my husband had survived. I felt a moment of guilt, but instantly knew that’s not why Shelly had told me about her son. She told me about her son because she is so very proud of him.

She is a mom who would not, and will not let the memory of her son fade into oblivion as so many other soldier sons, soldier daughters, and soldier fathers and brothers and aunts and uncles and cousin and grandparent soldiers do. I began to feel a sense of pride as well. Was it for my husband, or her son? Probably for all the soldiers who have made it home, and the ones who did not.

Have you ever heard that popular saying “All gave some; some gave all”? The next time you do, I would like you to try to remember that all those soldiers were people just like you and me. All their families are just like yours and mine. I will never forget Shelly or her nameless son who I will never meet.

I will, however, remember how proud she is of her son, and how truly grateful I am that my soldier came home.

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Barbaric Behavior Overtakes Peaceful Protests in Ferguson, Missourri

ferguson missourriFerguson, Missouri..My personal view may differ from yours, and you know what? That’s Ok. I may (And do) adamantly agree with the grand jury’s decision, while you vehemently disagree with it. And that’s Ok. Even if you are filled with a raging anger at the grand jury’s decision, while I confidently breathe a thankful sigh of relief for an outcome I had hoped for…that’s Ok, too. What isn’t Ok is the violent, destructive, disrespectful and unlawful actions that some of those who wish to show their protest for the decision…are currently engaging in.

In their fit of uncontrollable rage, many have broken numerous laws; laws that are there to govern, and protect the citizens and visitors of Ferguson, Missouri. What these few have apparently missed in their blind, destructive rage is the fact that they are breaking laws contained in the very same code of conduct they so adamantly and openly, insisted the grand jury abide by when making their decision.

Using a selective approach to obeying laws will accomplish nothing more than to put you in a light of ignorance that showcases your lack of self-control. What I mean is this.

You can’t demand a law written into a code of conduct for all those living within or entering into the borders of Missouri be upheld (Shooting and unarmed person, using deadly force, or whatever law you feel has been broken in the this particular situation), then go out and break another law in that same code of conduct.

There is simply no way around it. You cannot object to an injustice you believe has been levied against one person by pouring more injustice onto the streets of Ferguson, Missouri. You can’t demand justice for one person then carelessly toss that same justice aside as it pertains to others.

Justice is justice. It belongs to you, and me, and Michael Brown, and the business owners whose establishments you are looting and burning, and the countless children and families whose lives you have disrupted by your decision to protest in such a barbaric manner. It belongs to the many emergency personal who are forced to put themselves in harms way because of your ignorant, selfish choices. And Thankfully, that same justice belongs to Officer Wilson.

It’s a justice that is designed to serve all. You are certainly entitled to show your disdain for the grand jury’s decision, just as I am entitled to show my agreement with them. Your protests, however, cannot break the law.

You are hypocrites when you take this road. You are criminals. You are committing crimes, in the name of justice; a decision that is completely moronic on any level. You are also slapping the sorrowful faces of the Brown family who have to struggle daily to find some way to live with the loss of their son, and their own disagreement with the jury’s decision.

From the beginning of this whole nightmare, they asked you all to protest peaceably. Still, you continued to disrespect them by acting like uncaring thugs running amuck on the very streets this family cohabitates.

I watched Fox News last night. Yes, Fox News! How dare I right?! It’s no wonder I have such a distorted view of the world, right? Once again, I can choose which channel(s) on which to get information from just as you can. I don’t want to get off track here, but just let me add, that if you believe you are getting the whole story, all the facts, from ANY news channel, you are sadly mistaken.

In any event, on The O’Reilly Factor (Oh no! Not O’Reilly!) last night there was a guest who was a reverend (Or pastor, priest I can’t remember exactly and I can’t seem to find the clip online anywhere) who, while everyone was still watching anxiously for the decision, was asked if he would be disappointed if the Ferguson, Missouri grand jury did not indict officer Wilson.

He stated he would be very saddened. He went on to say he had served this country for many years in a branch of the armed services, and he wouldn’t abandon what he had stood up for, and defended, for all those years because he disagrees with the outcome: our criminal justice system. He added that no one should be committing crimes in protest, but instead, should give Michael’s family the respect they have asked for by choosing to protest peaceably to show their disagreement with the decision.

Before you ask, yes, he is a black man of the cloth. He is also a man who possess the ability to control himself in spite of his apparent and deep, heartfelt disbelief at the grand jury’s decision.

Does he believe racism is intertwined within the circumstances surrounding this tragic case? I’d say he certainly does. Does he believe racism is alive and thriving in our country at the hands of those in power? Maybe. Or at the hands of whites? I don’t know for sure, but I’d guess he may. That’s not all I believe about this man, though.

I also believe he is the perfect example of how anyone who disagrees with the Ferguson Missouri’s grand jury’s decision should approach the situation.

Confidently…Matter-of-factly….yet peaceably.

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Where Was God On 9-11?

I originally wrote the little blurb below for another website I contributed to. The website has since gone by the wayside, so I decided to repost it here. Looking back, I have to admit, it is still hard to accept the painful reality that so many innocent live were lost that horrific day. The situation screams of an unimaginable injustice that befell so many without warning, and there is a part of me that agrees with this analogy. Still, there’s another part of me that feels differently.

Are we all to blame (If not in some tiny way) for the state of the world today? We live in it. We, therefore, contribute to in in some way. Could this entire episode have been avoided, and so many others like it around the world? Probably not.

The radical and distorted thinking of a small few in this world, are what brought about this evil. I find it unlikely that any ‘one’ or any ‘thing’ could have changed the vicious thoughts, and warped views these individuals have of their fellow human beings or of the questionable interpretations of the messages they claim “their God” gives them.

Honestly, I have no real answer that will quell the anger of many (Myself included) or comfort the aching hearts of those that lost so much that day; both young and old. I’m not sure exactly what was running through my mind at the time I wrote the blurb. I can only say that you can blame God if you want, and I would understand if you did.

Still, we need to remember that when we point a finger at anyone (Including God) there are always 3 fingers pointing back. We aren’t completely blameless.

Before I end this now-longer-than-I-anticipated introduction to my blurb, I’d like to share with you an experience that happened to me shortly after the attack.

I was convened at my church with my fellow parishioners. We were sitting in the quietness of our dimly-lit sanctuary in a haphazard circle as each of us took a brief turn talking with God about what had happened, just days before. When it was my turn to contribute all I could think of were the other people around the world who live the same kind of tragedy every day that I, and my fellow Americans, were now experiencing.

I will never forget the feeling that overwhelmed me as I came to the shocking realization that this tragedy had been playing out in the lives of so many others for such a long time…grown men, you brides, young children…and I hadn’t given them any more than a brief, fleeting thought as I quickly grabbed my remote to change the channel each time their stories were broadcasted across my television.

I prayed through tears that da,y a prayer that was felt so deep in my heart, I can almost feel the warmth of my tears as they fell from my opened eyes that day.

The following is similar to my prayer to God that day:

Father forgive me for not caring enough to pray for those that live this tragedy every waking day you give them.

Forgive my selfishness at not taking the time to realize just how horrific their lives, and their losses are.

Forgive me for assuming that such genocide would never affect me, and for my lack of understanding that it does affect me, as it was so proven to me and all American’s as those iconic towers crashed to the ground.

I am so sorry that I have never taken even a single moment out of my busy, yet carefree day of going to the beach, or shopping for new clothes, or watching the latest episode of my favorite television show, to consider that those people, the ones I’ve never giving a second thought about, are someone’s father, someone’s mother or sister, someone’s aunt or cousin, someone’s shoulder to lean on, or someone’s child they would blindly, and without hesitation, have given their own lives to protect.

Forgive me for being so selfish, and for not listening sooner to the anguished sobs that have perpetually been cried out around the world for so long. The sobs of innocent men, women and children.

I am ashamed that it took the lost of innocent lives here on American soil to open my eyes to the reality that we are all at risk. We all face the possibility of having to endure the same unimaginable sorrow suffered by those I never knew, yet will now, never forget.

I pray that you protect us from the evils of this world, and give us an understanding of your ways that bring us comfort, and peace, in a world so savage and uncertain as the one we now live in.


Are we all to blame (If not in some tiny way) for the state of the world today?

Whether we are to blame for what happened or not, I know that I am the very least guilty of not caring about other humans the way I should have been…the way I now hope they care about me.


Where was God on 9/11? The same place He’s always been. With us.

Why is it that people question Gods’ presence in the face of disaster; blaming Him for the situation or for not stopping it.

It’s all His fault. He had the power to stop it and didn’t. Why did He allow it to happen in the first place? It’s all His doing.

Yet, when good fortune finds it’s way into our lives; we are the ones that brought it to fruition.

I did this. I did that. Look what I achieved. All the credit is directed toward ourselves.

I’m of the opinion that it’s the other way around. Why do we tend to take the credit for the success, and pass the buck when failure rears it’s monstrous head? We’ve been passing the buck since we were small children.

Have you ever looked at the face of a 5-year-old when they’ve been caught doing something wrong. Their expression screams, “I did it!” while their mouths proclaim complete innocence. How many times are you going to warn the little one before you set some consequences in place? If you’re any kind of loving parent, it won’t take to long.

We all need boundaries, complete with consequences for when they are repeatedly crossed.

And, how many times are you going to pay the hospital bill for your uninsured, drunken brother or sister, each time they end up in the emergency room with alcohol poisoning, before you say, enough is enough. You brought this on yourself. You made your bed; lay in it.

Why then, is it not acceptable for God to set consequences in place for us? Are the boundaries He’s set in place any less important than the ones we’ve set for each other? Is He supposed to continually fix everything when we tread outside of His boundaries?

That’s not proper practice for us as earthly parents, and it’s no less proper for Him as our heavenly Parent.

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Activists Send a Strong Message to Business Owner

Activists Send a Strong Message to Business Owner

In the wee hours of the morning, this London storefront was altered by activists to send a strong message of their support for the countries homeless population.

Business owners had recently placed spikes in the entrances to their storefronts in an effort to prevent homeless people from seeking shelter and sleep along their storefronts. This activist group poured concrete overtop of the spikes as a way of sending a message that their actions were unacceptable.

It is more than understandable that business owners would be concerned about losing potential customers, and ultimately, potential income. Still, I occurs to me that there is a deeper issue here than earning a livelihood. (Click the picture above to read more on this story)

There is a message being sent here that I find troublesome. Not everyone will agree with me, and that too, is understandable. Still, this message is degrading, and disheartening. I can’t help but think there must be another way to resolve the issues both of these groups are facing?

As a parent, I believe (Actually, I know!) it is my responsibility to teach my children the proper way to treat fellow human beings; no matter what their plight in life.

Rudeness, in any form, is unacceptable. Children (and some adults who need a refresher course) should be taught that the world is full of people who, for one reason or another, find themselves in places and situations they’d rather not be in. Whether it be by their own hands or that of others, everyone makes poor choices, and inevitably, find themselves thrown into the consequences of those decisions.

Homelessness does not render a person, less important, not worth knowing or speaking to, or undeserving of anything. We are all people wandering aimlessly along life’s long and winding highways and byways, soaring to new heights and plummeting to new lows along the way. Each in search of something. We may look different, live different or speak different, but we are susceptible to life’s circumstances just the same.

As diverse as we all are, everyone knows the heartache of loss or the dismay of rejection, as well as the universal language of kindness. The tears shed by a homeless women, who longs to be reunited with her child , feels the same when shed by the CEO of a multimillion dollar company, when he losses his family because of his drinking.

The frustration that ebbs through the veins of the homeless man who struggles with finding a way to provide for his family, flows the same for the college student, who repeatedly fails his SAT tests and is denied admittance to the university.

All understand the unspoken words that exist in a gentle hug, a friendly wave or a warm smile.

Just as your child shouldn’t be treated differently because you can’t afford the latest fashions for them or a cell phone, or an ipod, or some other popular gadget in this electronic age, doesn’t mean they should be looked down on, ignored or treated unkindly. People are people because of who they are on the inside, not what they may or may not have on the outside.

My oldest son once asked me if I’d still be proud of him if he decided not to go to college. I told him that I didn’t care if he ended up becoming an overweight single man, driving a beat up taxi cab through the crowded streets of New York city, living in a one room, run down motel, and cooking his meals on a rusty old hot plate. As long as he was kind to people, cared about others and told the truth, it wouldn’t matter to me what he did or became in life.

Heartache, isolation and desperation, in whatever form will, no doubt, come knocking on your door someday. Teach your children to be grateful that, at least they still have a door for it to knock on.

Resolving the issue of homelessness around the world isn’t a stamp-it-all answer. Each instance of homelessness has it’s own set of circumstances, that brought it to fruition. Preventing reoccurring homelessness will take great effort on everyone’s part.

Please share your views below. Maybe together we can find some workable solutions that will help both groups lead fruitful lives in a way that will allow them to co-exist peaceably.

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American Flags Are Not Politically Correct.

Old_American_Flag_1_I originally started to write this blog entry only days before the bombing in Boston, Massachusetts. As the tragic events of that day unfolded, and the aftermath became more apparent with each passing hour, my urge to write dwindled, and my mind was consumed with what those who were suffering such fear and anguish only a mere hundred or so miles away must be thinking.

To write about anything besides them, I thought, would be disrespectful. After all, their entire way of life had changed in a way I could never truly understand, and it had not gone unnoticed by me how lucky I was that I wasn’t enduring the same fate they were.

I wanted to write about them, but the words wouldn’t come. I didn’t know where to start or even if I had an opening sentence, where would I go from there? So I watched, I waited, and I prayed for each of my brethren and their families that they would be able to endure the tragedy that had cunningly snuck into their back door like a thief in the night, and forever changed the way they would view the world around them.

Weeks have now passed, and I’ve finally taken a seat once again in front of my keyboard to start sharing my thoughts with anyone who cares to listen. Scrolling down my list of drafts, I came across this particular title, and thought it fitting considering all that has happened over the last few weeks.

This blog entry was originally intended to be about american flags and what a disgrace it is that so many of them are deemed offensive in the very land that gave them their inherent glory and honor. Still, those just miles up the road from me kept coming into my mind.

As the country, and more specifically, those so deeply and personally effected by the bombing in Boston, Mass. on April 15, 2013 struggle to heal and grow, the fallout from this horrific event in United States history rages on.

A thieving mother who milked our country for everything she could while here, sits cowardly thousands of miles across the pond proclaiming her sons innocence in the name of conspiracy. A father still contemplates whether he dare step foot on American soil to claim the lifeless body of his terrorist offspring, while an uncle, claiming to be ashamed of what his nephews have done (Though I am extremely hesitant to believe any of it) tries to honor his beliefs and customs by finding a place to bury his terrorist nephew on American soil, in spite of the evil that was unleashed that day.

Another father must wake each morning to face the heartbreaking loss of his small son while he struggles to be strong for his little daughter who must face life in a way her tiny mind had never contemplated before that day. His wife, critically injured, struggles alongside her husband to create a world in which their small daughter will be able to fall asleep each night, believing she is safe; though neither of them will ever believe that again.

A lifetime of tomorrows of a mother and daughter are forever altered by the loss of limb, and severe injury, and yet another young woman must put her ambitions and dreams aside as she figures out how to be who she once was, and do what she once did, without the use of one of her legs.

These are only the tip of the iceberg of the unimaginable stories from the streets and hospital beds in Boston; each heartbreaking in its own right. Still, the common thread that runs through them all isn’t what one might think it would be.

No, that thread has nothing to do with heartache or loss. It doesn’t represent sorrow or fear, nor is it a symbol of defeat. That thread is a thread that was woven into the very fabric of who all of their mothers and fathers were, and all of their mothers and fathers before them; and theirs before them.

That thread is hundreds of years old, and is what helped build this great nation I call home. It’s showed its resilience decade after decade, conflict after conflict, tragedy after tragedy. Its colors have bled, but have never ran. That thread is made from a deep pride that every true american has running through their veins. It’s composed of a combination of loyalty, and reverence for the truth, and the freedom to speak those truths. It’s made from the dreams of many, and the bloody hands and finger of them that dare make those dreams a reality.

Does it have a name? Some call it the spirit of liberty. Others refer to it as the heart of America. Whatever name it goes by, it true essence has never been more clear than on April 15, 2013.

The fabric of America is unity; it takes a stand for freedom, and rallys together when the evil forces of the world attempt to snuff it out with unthinkable terroristic tactics. It wraps a tourniquet around the dangling limb of a complete stranger without fear of catching AIDS. It rushes to the side of a small girl who cries out for her mother and father. It holds the lifeless body of a small boy who has had his young life snuffed out like a candle, and protects him even though he is gone. The fabric of America, scoops up the wounded from the tangled mess of barriers, and carries them away to safety.

But, Boston, Massachusetts isn’t the only place this intricate thread of America has shown its glory.

It slowly rows through flooded southern streets, rescuing those trapped on rooftops to avoid raging waters. It finds a way to bring food, water and hope to a community whose life as they had known it was washed quickly away in a flood when the levees broke.

It finds a place for the youth of a community to hold their senior prom; a rite of passage this thread made sure those high schooler would have. This thread beckons thousands into the face of danger each day they wake in a land not their own, and it’s what drives them to protect their brethren, complete their mission and return safely home to their loved ones.

It scales twin towers with a blind determination to reach those trapped inside and thinks nothing of what might happen to it. It guides total strangers to help one another escape the smoke and flames, and still others to remain with those that can’t escape. It inspires strangers to give the shirts off their backs, and the last few drops of water they have to others. It enables untrained hands to build makeshift backboards out of pallets and discarded wood to carry the injured away.

Yes, the thread of America is tough, and enduring. It will never give up nor will it ever take the easy way out and give in. It will stand forever throughout history as an example of what brotherhood should be. It will defend freedom at any cost, and it will refuse to engage in the cowardly acts of those that try to defeat it.

So even if every American flag across this nation were to be taken down under the guise of equality or political correctness, this thread would continue to weave its way through our futures and the futures of our children.


Because this thread doesn’t run through the fabric of a flag…it runs through the very being of every American!

“When the civilian bystanders to the attack ran toward the first blast to give aid to the victims, without a second thought for their own safety, the primary desire of the terrorists — to paralyze a populace with fear — was already thwarted.”

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Knives Don’t Kill People; People Kill People

Image found at

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In the midst of all the debate surrounding second amendment rights and gun control that has so easily distracted both the state and federal governments, and the average American citizen, the real reason, and focus, of a grassroots, continental movement to protect children on school campuses across the nation has been strategically buried somewhere beneath the worth of any of these proposed mandates to do just that.

This rancid outbreak of tunnel vision, disguised as the correct thing to do in honor of those that lost their lives and those that will forever live with their loss as a result of the tragedy at Sandyhook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn. has completely crippled what it was we all agreed we needed to do; protect our children in every school across America.

In their need to do something, and their unwillingness to be patient, and probe in detail the options that exist, the political agenda of governments has overtaken the real mission of protecting school children.

Instead, an all out battle between those that want to protect the second amendment rights of law-abiding citizens, and those that would hastily and carelessly take it away without deep thought and contemplation, has broken out across the country.

At the helm of this fruitless engagement is a president who has already proven himself inept at running a country, honest, law-abiding individuals who aren’t on anyone’s side, and the NRA, a powerful entity that is backed by lobbyists and ordinary gun owners; each wanting to protect their individual rights to bear arms. Fruitless?

Yes, fruitless. Because, this tactical back and forth between these groups has only served to pit one against the other instead of bringing them all together to achieve what it is we all agreed we needed to achieve; find a way to protect our school children.

So where does my title fit in? Why “Knives Don’t Kill People; People Kill People”? Simply put, knives has become the new weapon of choice. The risk school children are placed in hasn’t changed; only the weapon. Enter…Dylan Quick.

Instead of choosing a rifle or handgun, this 20-year-old student chose a knife as his instrument of destruction, and went on a rampage in Cypress, Texas, injuring 14 people before he was taken down.

The link (Dylan Quick) will take you to the full story as it’s reported in the Huffington Post. My purpose in mentioning it here is to prove a point. That point is that our main objective after the Newtown Tragety…”To protect our children”…has been lost in the political debate that continues to spin out of control around the second amendment rights and gun control.

Nothing has been done to address school safety. Nothing has been enacted that is an attempt at safeguarding this world’s most precious commodity; our children. These precious, innocent beings are still going to school each day, and the exposure of danger from mentally challenged criminals still exists.

In fact, one could argue the threat is even greater now than is was back on December 14, 2012 when a deranged child-psychopath named, Adam Lanza, causally went about his plan of unthinkable violence, and mowed down 2o of these innocent beings, and 6 of their care providers as they attempted to protect them from that lunatic. No? Well, you tell me what has been done to protect our children.

Have we taken a second look at the mental health issues people are facing?

Have we reassessed and attempted to revamp the resources needed to treat or cage these animals?

Have we taken the most obvious step of placing qualified, trained, armed and able individuals at our school campuses across this country?

This has only taken place at individual state and county levels. As a country, we are still debating second amendment rights and gun control as if either of these will resolve the issue of  protection for our children in the school setting.

Dylan Quick’s actions should prove to everyone that gun control won’t make a difference. Nor will taking away anyone’s second amendment rights. It’s complete lunacy on our part to think that taking away honest, law-abiding citizen’s rights to protect themselves and the lives of their children is the answer. Again you say no?

Quick didn’t use a gun. What’s next? Outlaw knives? Require a background check in order to purchase a knife? Better yet, maybe we should take away the honest person’s right to own a knife so that when his mentally challenged neighbor, or co-worker comes at him with a knife he is unarmed, and unable to protect himself against an attack?

No, the answer doesn’t lay in taking away the rights of the honest. It lays in providing help for the mentally challenged and if needed, taking them off the streets. I’m not saying that taking a second look at gun control isn’t a good thing. But, we’ve got the two important issues in the wrong order.

The first and most important issue is guarding the safety of our children at school, and we’ve already pissed away the last 4 months we had to try and figure out a way to do that. Only second to immediately protecting our children is a closer look at gun safety, and gun laws.

I’m a gun owner. I am not opposed to background checks. In fact, the lack of a background check is absurd in this gun owner’s opinion. I’m not opposed to a waiting period either. I’m not even opposed to requiring proper education, and training before someone is allowed to own a weapon.

I am, however, opposed to anyone taking away my ability to properly defend myself, while the lunatics and criminals of this world will still have access to the very weapons some are trying to tell me I can’t own.

First things first people. Let’s get back to honoring those lost, and those left to live with their loss, at Sandyhook Elementary School, by attempting to immediately make our school campuses safer. You wanna really honor those souls from Newtown, Conn.? I bet we can come up with at least 26 things we can do to attempt to protect our future, our children on school campuses across this nation.

Just as there is no universal answer that will prevent obesity, there is no universal answer that will 100%, without a doubt, unequivocally, protect our children. There will always be some sick-minded individual or group that will attempt to skirt around the safeguards we have or will put in place. Still, this is no excuse to simply throw in the towel or make hasty, unfounded decisions.

I implore everyone to step back from this gun debate, and this panic over taking away second amendment rights, and instead, take a good hard look at your child as she plays, your son as he sleeps, your grandchildren as they enjoy the time they spend with you or even stop for a moment as you drive past the school in your community, and ask yourself this…

“What has all this debating accomplished in the last 4 months to protect my child or grandchild while they are at school?”

The answer may surprise you…

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