If you've used your weapon in a defensive situation, please post here

[MSparks909]

If there is already a thread that discusses this then feel free to delete...

I've been pouring over this section for the last week or so. Have learned a lot and will try to incorporate what I have learned into my daily carry/defensive tactics mindset. With that said, have any of you ever drew or used a gun in a defensive situation? I'm aware this is a bold question, but I ask it because I hope to learn from whatever stories/advice/hindsight you may have. If you've been in a defensive situation and feel uncomfortable by this question, I do apologize.

With that said, I have only had to point a gun at another human once, and that was while I was duck hunting. I was hunting with three buddies and my dog. Another hunting party wanted to set up where we were already set up, because it was "their spot" and therefore "they had a right to be there." Words were exchanged and things escalated quickly. They began issuing threats and one of them started taking pot shots at our decoys. That same individual then aimed very close to where we were set up in the marsh and shot once near us. I aimed directly at him and yelled for him to "drop the effing gun or I will blow your head off!" Threat worked and they left. Called the Game Warden and gave a description of the boat/guys. Those same guys have been cited before for hunter's harassment. After that instance, my Glock has gone with me on every duck hunt, underneath my jacket in a Hill People Gear chest rig (I felt pretty underarmed, even though my shotgun was loaded with 3 1/2" BB at the time). One of my good buddies who was also with me began carrying his Glock as well.

[JV_]

I've moved all of the off-topic posts to the RR, http://pistol-forum.com/showthread.php?11984-OT-posts-from-quot-If-you-ve-used-your-weapon-in-a-defensive-situation-quot.

This thread is for On-Topic posts.

[HeadHunter]

Here's a few.

1970 - Guy was trying to steal my mother's car. I took an H&R 929 out and dissuaded him.

1973 - A punk in my company started to pull a knife on me. I pulled out a switchblade almost as big as my bayonet and dissuaded him. I miss that knife more than any other I have had.

1974 - A guy in my company was accustomed to strong arm robbing skinny white guys in the barracks. He came into my room and said "gimme all your money." I pulled out a .380 Astra Constable and dissuaded him.

1994 - I was seeing a really sexy Black girl who lived in a not-so-good area. A couple of the locals disliked this and came over to my car when I got out. I pulled out a Seecamp .32 and dissuaded them.

1997 - I had ankle surgery and was in a boot on crutches in the Peachtree Center MARTA station. Three Black guys locked in on me and headed for me from the other side of the station. That was the first time I understood what Clint Smith meant when he said "Criminals look at you like you're food." I faced them head on and put my hand on a 2" Model 10 I had in my coat pocket. They decided to take the train, instead. The Marine Corps Drill Team couldn't have done a better Right Flank March than those three assholes.

There's more but those will do for now.

[Dr. No]

I've lost track of the number of people I've pointed guns at, but I carry a gun for a living. What are you trying to learn, or is this just a story thread?

[pangloss]

As the result of nervous energy, I have twice unintentionally pretended to have a gun when I found myself in an unpleasant situation. While these events don't qualify as having drawn a weapon in self defense, I'll share them anyway because I'm virtually certain that the offending parties believed I had a weapon.

1. The first was when a guy followed me into a gas station in a near road rage incident. He pulled past me and sat in his truck and glared at me. I leaned over and pretended to get something out of the glove box before exiting my vehicle. Mainly I was just stalling for a few seconds to see what the guy was going to do. I didn't occur to me until after I was safely on my way that he might have thought I was getting a pistol. The guy screamed some profanities at me but did not approach. I was 19 or 20 then so too young to have a carry permit.

2. About 9:00 one night, I was sitting in line at a drive through and had just placed my order. There were cars in front of and behind me in line and an empty parking deck to my left. I saw a shady looking guy headed my way from the parking deck. He knew I was watching him, and when he came too close, I pretended to get something out of the glove box. He immediately got both hands where I could see them and assured me that he was not a threat--just begging for spare change. He also backed up a few steps. I was old enough to have a permit when this happened but didn't have one yet. I saw that guy several more times when I lived in that area and even talked to him a couple of times. If he remembered me from that night he never mentioned it, but he never asked me for change again either.

[GardoneVT]

The Marine Corps Drill Team couldn't have done a better Right Flank March than those three assholes.



The last time I saw a civilian execute a Column Right march was under similar circumstances.

[gtmtnbiker98]

I've lost track.

[MSparks909]

I've lost track of the number of people I've pointed guns at, but I carry a gun for a living. What are you trying to learn, or is this just a story thread?

I guess some people thought it was a joke or in poor taste, but I was genuinely hoping to learn something from other people's experiences. Some things off the top of my head...did you get "tunnel vision" while in such situations, do you think better situational awareness could have prevented it, did fine motor skills degrade in your case, etc. I'm genuinely curious to hear first hand accounts of either drawing or using a gun for defensive use in order to better educate and potentially prepare myself if I ever find myself in such a situation.
'

[Salamander]

No, never. Not even close, despite having lived in or frequented some pretty rough parts of inner city Chicago for 20+ years, and more recently spending a lot of time in Oakland. So I can't answer some of your questions, but I can say that situational awareness almost certainly has had more than a little to do with the lack of incidents. Certainly I'm aware of several specific incidents that could have gone badly if they hadn't been apparent from a reasonable distance and, one way or another, avoided.

I can also tell you that since I received a permit and began carrying, I've ignored at least two provocations from run-of-the-mill jerks in traffic that I probably would have responded angrily to once upon a time. Allowing a situation to escalate could have much more serious consequences now, and I'm finally old enough to realize that most minor provocations really don't matter 10 minutes later, much less in 100 years... and they certainly aren't worth some of the possible outcomes.

[GardoneVT]

I guess some people thought it was a joke or in poor taste, but I was genuinely hoping to learn something from other people's experiences.
'

The problem is , a circumstance which requires one to draw a weapon means someone is enduring a violently extreme situation to begin with.

Someone I know once said that asking this sort of question is akin to asking a girl what it was like to be raped-even if your inquiry is well intentioned, the person has to recount an experience they'd rather just as soon leave in the past.
I don't know if perhaps seasoned LE or military can discuss the matter more clinically, but as an ordinary Joe who's been in two self defense incidents, I find the entire subject disconcerting . Its troubling to simply remember the instances now as the guy who was there, to say nothing about sharing them . One case I've mentioned on this website before, but the first incident was so searing it will likely never be told to another soul. That situation was so traumatic, my view on human nature was irrevocably changed-some might say damaged- that night.

Hope this helps explain why your question isn't getting the response you'd perhaps desire.

[idahojess]

I'm genuinely curious to hear first hand accounts of either drawing or using a gun for defensive use in order to better educate and potentially prepare myself if I ever find myself in such a situation.
'

I can't respond directly to your question, but a book that I think addresses that question really well is "Thank God I had a Gun," By Chris Bird. It's got about 8 or 10 chapter length accounts of people, pretty much all civilians (not military or law enforcement), who used firearms in self defense. The author interviewed them all (except for one, who did not survive) about what they saw, felt, what happened afterward, what they'd do differently, etc. Good book. (I've recommended it in other posts, so sorry for being redundant).

And I agree with Salamander about the propensity to avoid confrontation when carrying.

[HeadHunter]

The last time I saw a civilian execute a Column Right march was under similar circumstances.

Discipline is enhanced by motivation.

[Dr. No]

I guess some people thought it was a joke or in poor taste, but I was genuinely hoping to learn something from other people's experiences. Some things off the top of my head...did you get "tunnel vision" while in such situations, do you think better situational awareness could have prevented it, did fine motor skills degrade in your case, etc. I'm genuinely curious to hear first hand accounts of either drawing or using a gun for defensive use in order to better educate and potentially prepare myself if I ever find myself in such a situation.
'

I have one story worth retelling ...

My last and final day of training before I get cut loose on the street. My FTO told me when I got in that so long as I didn't kill him or wreck his car, I was going to pass. Just relax and go do what I do. Great. We all know how that works out...

The night started out fairly slow. We finally got a real call for service - my first real one of the entire week with this FTO. I arrived and spoke with all the folks involved and what I finally gathered goes like this. The players consist of a Dad, his 13 year old, and his Fiancee. They had all gone to a local festival that day and ate and drank. Fiancee had a bit too much to drink, and was quite drunk when they got home. Dad got a call from some buddies who wanted him to go out - I never did find out if it was a pool hall or titty bar, but that's not important. Either way he said he was on his way, and Fiancee got pissed. She starts yelling at him and getting irate, but in her drunken state she wasn't making much sense. Dad finally says he's leaving, and tells his 13 year old to go upstairs and go to bed. He leaves and goes on his merry way. 13 year old is upstairs brushing her teeth when Fiancee starts pounding on the locked bathroom door. She's screaming incoherently calling the 13 year old a bitch, and then kicks in the door and comes in the bathroom. She continues to yell at the girl and grabs her by her arms, shaking her. She slams her into the wall and the towel rack catches the girl in her back just below her shoulder blades, slamming her head against the wall. She then turns her around and throws her to the ground and starts slamming her into the floor. 13 year old finally gets away from her and runs out of the house down the street to a friend's house. There she calls dad, dad comes home and calls the cops. Whew.

I get all my facts together and EMS is looking at the girl. Dad says Fiancee is still at the house if I'd like to go talk to her.... I sure would! I'm thinking I'm about to make a Felony arrest. I walk down the street and get three bad signs.

#1. All the lights in and outside the house are off.
#2. All the doors are locked.
#3. One of the Deputies is in the back yard and is talking to a female who is standing in the kitchen by herself in the dark, staring off into space.

Crap.

We pound on the door, ring the doorbell, I use my Big Boy voice to announce who we are. The entire neighborhood knows we're knocking on the door at this point. No answer. Fine, I know how to get in .... I call dad. He comes down with the keys and opens the front door for us. The Deputy in the back told me the female is now sitting in the kitchen, with her legs outstretched and her hands crossed across her chest. I unleash my Roscoe and my FTO readies his Taser. We enter the residence and it opens into a large living room space. I move ahead where the kitchen should be. As I come around the corner I unlock the back door to let my partners out there in. I move into the dining area and observe Fiance sitting in the corner with her legs outstretched, only there's also a nine inch silver kitchen knife laying next to her right leg. Sh*t. I move laterally to put the bar area in between her and I, but my partner takes up position in the walkway connecting the two rooms, maybe seven feet away from her.

In my command voice I offered her some advice:

"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD"
"No" she says, and she picks up the knife.

"DROP THE KNIFE OR YOU'RE GOING TO GET SHOT"
"Do it, do it - I want to die."

Eff.

She starts to stand up with the knife in her hand and I have a sinking feeling. Things slow down, a lot. I get "hypervision", where I actually see and process more around me than normal. One of my partners steps up next to me and I feel like he's moving in front of me. I am still focused on my threat but I push my elbow in front of him so he doesn't cross my line of fire. She starts to move forward and I can see my pistol's sights superimposed on her chest, and I slowly watch the hammer on my LEM trigger come all the way back. I know I'm at the last 3 pounds of the trigger pull and I'm taking the slack out to break the shot when I hear a *pop* to my left.

Both probes of the Taser connect, one on her left shoulder and the other on the right side of her stomach. She stiffens like a board and goes down to her knees. As soon as her ride is over my FTO says "Drop the knife" and she does. It goes clattering across the floor out of her reach. I'm holstered and moving in when she reaches up and yanks one of the probes out of her chest. I'm thinking she might have a spare knife on her or she might try to make a grab for one somewhere in the kitchen. Neither are good options. I grab an arm and with no gentleness straight arm bar her straight into the concrete floor with everything I've got. She doesn't want to play anymore and I cuff her. She's pissed herself. She's crying telling us to kill her because her life is over. Intermixed with that is "let me change my pants", "I want my house shoes", and "you can't come in my f'ing house" - the usual drunk thought process.

Once she's in cuffs my brain realizes the excitement's over, but my body is still peaked from the adrenaline and I'm starting to feel it. I've been to this place before - I get the shakes, BAD, especially in my hands and I'm still moving and talking 100 miles an hour. I tell my FTO "Give me something to do, please". He sends me down to the car, 3 blocks away, to get a digital camera so I can photograph the scene. I take a short jog and have the EMS folks come back to take a look at her. The run does me good and gets some of the shakes out. I come back and I still haven't gotten over the fact that I had the decision made in my head to take the shot. The fact that I had decided to shoot her was a first for me and I was still processing what could have happened. I'm thinking about how close she was to dying and she's going on and on about how nothing happened and the 13 year old is a liar ... adding a little doubt in the back of my head that "oh crap, am I going to get in trouble for this?" We process the rest of the scene and get all our evidence and statements together. Our drunk prisoner is now mad that I "put the cuffs on too tight" and blaming me for all her problems in life.That makes me feel a little better.

The ride down to jail is the usual, trying to ignore the angry irate drunk screaming about how she'll have my job, I must be a rookie, her daughter is a lying bitch....

I never heard another word about the case.

[Josh Runkle]

I have one story worth retelling ...

My last and final day of training before I get cut loose on the street. My FTO told me when I got in that so long as I didn't kill him or wreck his car, I was going to pass. Just relax and go do what I do. Great. We all know how that works out...

The night started out fairly slow. We finally got a real call for service - my first real one of the entire week with this FTO. I arrived and spoke with all the folks involved and what I finally gathered goes like this. The players consist of a Dad, his 13 year old, and his Fiancee. They had all gone to a local festival that day and ate and drank. Fiancee had a bit too much to drink, and was quite drunk when they got home. Dad got a call from some buddies who wanted him to go out - I never did find out if it was a pool hall or titty bar, but that's not important. Either way he said he was on his way, and Fiancee got pissed. She starts yelling at him and getting irate, but in her drunken state she wasn't making much sense. Dad finally says he's leaving, and tells his 13 year old to go upstairs and go to bed. He leaves and goes on his merry way. 13 year old is upstairs brushing her teeth when Fiancee starts pounding on the locked bathroom door. She's screaming incoherently calling the 13 year old a bitch, and then kicks in the door and comes in the bathroom. She continues to yell at the girl and grabs her by her arms, shaking her. She slams her into the wall and the towel rack catches the girl in her back just below her shoulder blades, slamming her head against the wall. She then turns her around and throws her to the ground and starts slamming her into the floor. 13 year old finally gets away from her and runs out of the house down the street to a friend's house. There she calls dad, dad comes home and calls the cops. Whew.

I get all my facts together and EMS is looking at the girl. Dad says Fiancee is still at the house if I'd like to go talk to her.... I sure would! I'm thinking I'm about to make a Felony arrest. I walk down the street and get three bad signs.

#1. All the lights in and outside the house are off.
#2. All the doors are locked.
#3. One of the Deputies is in the back yard and is talking to a female who is standing in the kitchen by herself in the dark, staring off into space.

Crap.

We pound on the door, ring the doorbell, I use my Big Boy voice to announce who we are. The entire neighborhood knows we're knocking on the door at this point. No answer. Fine, I know how to get in .... I call dad. He comes down with the keys and opens the front door for us. The Deputy in the back told me the female is now sitting in the kitchen, with her legs outstretched and her hands crossed across her chest. I unleash my Roscoe and my FTO readies his Taser. We enter the residence and it opens into a large living room space. I move ahead where the kitchen should be. As I come around the corner I unlock the back door to let my partners out there in. I move into the dining area and observe Fiance sitting in the corner with her legs outstretched, only there's also a nine inch silver kitchen knife laying next to her right leg. Sh*t. I move laterally to put the bar area in between her and I, but my partner takes up position in the walkway connecting the two rooms, maybe seven feet away from her.

In my command voice I offered her some advice:

"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD"
"No" she says, and she picks up the knife.

"DROP THE KNIFE OR YOU'RE GOING TO GET SHOT"
"Do it, do it - I want to die."

Eff.

She starts to stand up with the knife in her hand and I have a sinking feeling. Things slow down, a lot. I get "hypervision", where I actually see and process more around me than normal. One of my partners steps up next to me and I feel like he's moving in front of me. I am still focused on my threat but I push my elbow in front of him so he doesn't cross my line of fire. She starts to move forward and I can see my pistol's sights superimposed on her chest, and I slowly watch the hammer on my LEM trigger come all the way back. I know I'm at the last 3 pounds of the trigger pull and I'm taking the slack out to break the shot when I hear a *pop* to my left.

Both probes of the Taser connect, one on her left shoulder and the other on the right side of her stomach. She stiffens like a board and goes down to her knees. As soon as her ride is over my FTO says "Drop the knife" and she does. It goes clattering across the floor out of her reach. I'm holstered and moving in when she reaches up and yanks one of the probes out of her chest. I'm thinking she might have a spare knife on her or she might try to make a grab for one somewhere in the kitchen. Neither are good options. I grab an arm and with no gentleness straight arm bar her straight into the concrete floor with everything I've got. She doesn't want to play anymore and I cuff her. She's pissed herself. She's crying telling us to kill her because her life is over. Intermixed with that is "let me change my pants", "I want my house shoes", and "you can't come in my f'ing house" - the usual drunk thought process.

Once she's in cuffs my brain realizes the excitement's over, but my body is still peaked from the adrenaline and I'm starting to feel it. I've been to this place before - I get the shakes, BAD, especially in my hands and I'm still moving and talking 100 miles an hour. I tell my FTO "Give me something to do, please". He sends me down to the car, 3 blocks away, to get a digital camera so I can photograph the scene. I take a short jog and have the EMS folks come back to take a look at her. The run does me good and gets some of the shakes out. I come back and I still haven't gotten over the fact that I had the decision made in my head to take the shot. The fact that I had decided to shoot her was a first for me and I was still processing what could have happened. I'm thinking about how close she was to dying and she's going on and on about how nothing happened and the 13 year old is a liar ... adding a little doubt in the back of my head that "oh crap, am I going to get in trouble for this?" We process the rest of the scene and get all our evidence and statements together. Our drunk prisoner is now mad that I "put the cuffs on too tight" and blaming me for all her problems in life.That makes me feel a little better.

The ride down to jail is the usual, trying to ignore the angry irate drunk screaming about how she'll have my job, I must be a rookie, her daughter is a lying bitch....

I never heard another word about the case.

I thought giving the person what they wanted is called "good customer service".

[JRB]

The problem is , a circumstance which requires one to draw a weapon means someone is enduring a violently extreme situation to begin with.

Someone I know once said that asking this sort of question is akin to asking a girl what it was like to be raped-even if your inquiry is well intentioned, the person has to recount an experience they'd rather just as soon leave in the past.
I don't know if perhaps seasoned LE or military can discuss the matter more clinically, but as an ordinary Joe who's been in two self defense incidents, I find the entire subject disconcerting . Its troubling to simply remember the instances now as the guy who was there, to say nothing about sharing them . One case I've mentioned on this website before, but the first incident was so searing it will likely never be told to another soul. That situation was so traumatic, my view on human nature was irrevocably changed-some might say damaged- that night.

Hope this helps explain why your question isn't getting the response you'd perhaps desire.

As a fellow 'ordinary Joe' that has also twice been a victim (in my opinion, a near-victim, as everyone survived both of my violent encounters physically unscathed) It's been my experience that such a comparison to rape victims, etc, is more often used as a cop-out to hide the whole story, usually to avoid embarrassment or some sort of perceived self-incrimination or otherwise illustrating mistakes or poor judgement that led, in whole or in part, to the victim's "situation".
When that is genuinely not the case, and one does harbor some serious darkness when recollecting an incident, sometimes the very best thing you can do is be candid about it.

I find it continually liberating to be candid about my first traumatic experience:

I was five and my little sister was barely three when two armed men kicked in our front door. My Mom was home watching us kiddos, and she was completely unprepared for the whole ordeal. Turns out they'd mistaken our house for that of some drug dealer's, and they took turns holding the three of us at gunpoint on the couch while the other tore apart some room in the house looking for 'the stuff' over an eternity of about 1.5 hours
After getting frustrated by the absence of 'stuff' in our house, the meaner of the two held my mother's hand against the glass coffee table and threatened to cut off her fingers one by one with a huge rambo knife if she didn't give up 'the stuff'. My Mom was hysterically crying and assuring them that nothing was in the house. Luckily they skipped cutting my Mom's fingers, but then the meaner of the two took my little sister away and told her to show him 'where daddy keeps his stuff'.

I will never forget my Mom's look of utterly powerless horror as he led my sister away. She offered herself instead, as I suspect any mother would.

My sister led him to the garage, pointed up at my Dad's tools & workbench, and said 'That's daddy's stuff and we're not allowed to touch it!'. Her recollection of that is my sister's earliest memory.

By some miracle, these were the sort of bad guys to kick in a door and destroy a house, but not quite the sort that'd hurt my mother or a little girl. I got a open-handed man slap to the face when I stepped up to them, though. I remember being angry. So angry, that as a five year old I was utterly powerless to protect my mom or my sister. They destroyed the house phones on the way out. My recollection of the event is vivid enough that I'd later recognize the weapons used as a 1911 and a 4in S&W Model 10.


First big lesson: Just because you're doing nothing bad, doesn't mean the bad guys won't find you. I suspect most of us here know that already.
Second big lesson: Have a gun, and ready access to it. My father owned a few guns but they were all kept unloaded and locked away. After that incident, a Remington 870 set up for 'social work' was put on hooks on inside the master bedroom's closet, above the doorway. My Mom got a Colt Mustang Plus II with two spare mags and several female-oriented self defense classes.
Third big lesson: Have a front door that's a pain in the kitten to kick in. Even getting 5 or 6 seconds of heads-up from needing multiple kicks to breach can make a huge difference in how prepared your response can be.

Obviously, as an impressionable 5 year old the whole incident affected me quite a bit. I did take a serious interest in shooting after that, and that interest endures to this day. Life was honestly pretty good once I got past the darkness, and could openly talk about it. I hated recollecting the event for a long time because of the powerlessness I felt.
As boys, we're innately taught that we need to be resilient and protective of our families, and even as a child it was shameful somehow that I couldn't do anything about it. For me personally, I found it was a lot easier to tell that story as a 12 year old that just got done building an AR15 with my Dad, just in time to be counted as a preban rifle in '94. That AR lived in my closet with several loaded 30 round magazines throughout my time in high school (and despite my love of Metallica T-shirts and video games like Doom, that rifle was never touched in anger nor did it possess me to pick it up and take it to school - funny, that.)
Ultimately I found that once measures were in place to help ensure it couldn't happen again, it was a lot less painful to recall the 'one time' it happened when you weren't ready.

I offer this not to toot my own horn, but in the genuine hope that it offers something meaningful for you or anyone else to consider.
There's nothing worse than letting some whale-dung waste of life continue to lord over a good person in any way, especially in memory because of the one time that waste of life got the better of him.



My second incident happened when I was moonlighting in downtown ABQ as a lighting & sound tech for a couple of local nightclubs. At the end of the night, a female regular of ours found herself separated from her group, so we let her hang out inside the club while we were buttoning things up for the night around 2am. After shutting things down for the night, I walked her to her truck so she wouldn't be alone, as she'd recently dumped her boyfriend and she was scared he was downtown looking for her.
She was right.
While walking down the sidewalk to where her truck was parked, her ex saw the both of us as he was riding along in an older Cadillac full of his buddies. The Caddy slowed and he was drunk or raging on something else and he accosted us and quite graphically described what he'd do to me for hitting on his girl. He didn't want to hear reason or my explanation that I was just seeing her safely to her vehicle, but soon they sped off.
I got her to her truck, she hadn't been drinking so she went on her way home. I walked back to my car, which was parked a few blocks away in a parking garage. I got to the parking garage without incident, but I saw the same Caddy pulling into the garage, so I hurried to my car. Just as I got there, the Caddy pulls up and parks me in as I get to my front door.

Now, this was a couple years before shall-issue came to NM, so my heater was under the front seat of my car, as NM law permitted a loaded & concealed firearm in a 'personal conveyance' even though there was no totin' permit system yet.
As the ex got out of the Caddy, I stood by my open car door, but I didn't want to turn away from him to get to the Glock 21 under the front seat. As he yelled and screamed at me for being some white boy punk-kitten-kittening-kitten and daring to think I had 'game' over him and would even try to touch his girl (he didn't use the word 'girl') etc etc. He was Drill-Sergeant close to me but I wasn't going to back down or reply in kind, as my interest was solely in de-escalating.
After about 2 minutes of his tantrum, he turns around and walks back toward the car, still yelling, and as he gets to the Caddy he yells 'you know what, (kitten) you, white boy we're gonna beat your (kittenin') (kitten).
His three homies get out of the Caddy, and I turn around and grab the Glock. I hold it at my side, as I wasn't willing to put this guy to a sight picture until he'd left me no other choice, and even being 4v1 shooting a guy without an obvious weapon probably wouldn't go well.

Much like Dr No described, I remember things slowing down considerably. I was hearing what he was saying to his homies, and in some faraway place in my head the results were registering but it felt like I was listening to an alien language that was getting semantically translated into meaning somewhere inside my head. Ex BF pulls out a blackjack or baton of some kind from the back of the car, and approaches me so quickly that he doesn't see my gun. I'm still hesitant, as he hadn't raised it at me yet.
Biggest & thickest homie, moving a bit slower, DID see my gun.
I'm stepping backwards and about to draw a sight picture as big homie yells something to the ex, and the ex's eyes track downward in slow-motion and he sees the Glock, still not pointed at him, yet.

After he sees the Glock, He immediately does an about-face and returns to the Caddy, and he shared some choice language with me and described what he's going to do to my car the next time he sees it. Unwisely, I respond in kind, using his kind of language to describe about the sort of 'man' he must be to kitten with a guy's car after coming at the guy himself 4 on 1 didn't go in his favor.

The Caddy's northstar V8 fries rubber as it's leaving, and I sat in my car, locked the doors, and shook like an idiot for 30 seconds as my nerves went from slow-motion-cool to shattering like an icicle that fell against the sidewalk. Jitters, being generally unsettled, etc.
After getting some sort of 24 hour drive through junkfood, I got home, and stayed up the rest of the night before calling a local PD buddy of mine the following morning and asking him what-the-kitten I could/should do about it.

Sustains from #2:
Brought the gun to the fight - that stopped the fight without a shot fired.
Didn't turn my back to him, or make myself vulnerable in any other way possible, but didn't exacerbate the situation.
Held off on getting the sight picture, because I held off until it was absolutely necessary.

Big takeaways from #2:
Find a friend to drive me home or take a cab if I suspect an encounter is going to happen by going to my own vehicle. The best encounter is the one you avoid entirely.
Remember the kittening license plate.
Try to get a name, if possible.
Don't descend to his level in language or thinking *Especially* if he's backing down, as you don't want to re-ignite the situation.
Once available, I got the CHL so my weapon is much more likely to be on my person and not somewhere else if/when I need it. The Glock shrank from a G21 to a G19 as a result, but 124gr +P Gold Dots make that okay.


I apologize if this post is a bit verbose, but I hope it offers something of value to this discussion.

[Bill Biggs]

Interesting thread, I've enjoyed reading so far. Great post JRB.

[BaiHu]

Thanks a ton for sharing JRB.

Sent from my SCH-I535 using Tapatalk

[BJJ]

JRB, thank you for the thoughtful post.

[MSparks909]

Dr. No and JRB, thanks to both of you for sharing your experiences. Those are what I was interested in reading about. I appreciate the "takeaways" and the description of things slowing down, hands shaking after the fact, etc.

[TumblinDown]

MSparks909, I'd recommend reading a few books. For starters, Into the Kill Zone by David Klinger (interviews with LEOs who've had to use lethal force); and probably just about anything by Rory Miller (e.g., Facing Violence, or Scaling Force).

[okie john]

MSparks909, I'd recommend reading a few books. For starters, Into the Kill Zone by David Klinger (interviews with LEOs who've had to use lethal force); and probably just about anything by Rory Miller (e.g., Facing Violence, or Scaling Force).

Also read "Principles of Personal Defense" by Jeff Cooper.

I’ve pointed loaded guns at bad guys four times. I haven’t experienced tachypsychia, tunnel vision, or auditory exclusion. For me, the problem is adrenaline. As a baseline, I always felt like puking for a few minutes after a night jump, but I could still take care of business (steer clear of other jumpers in the air, lower my ruck, land safely, stow my chute, assemble with my team, move to the rally point, etc.) quickly. I would just spit a lot for a while and not puke, and then I’d be fine.

In the first two events, I used a 4” S&W Model 29 in the low ready position with my finger off the trigger. The bad guys left at a high rate of speed. No adrenaline problems at all. Fine motor skills seemed OK from what I remember, but that was 30 years ago.

In the third event, I was carrying a Browning Hi-Power in Condition One. This time there was a major adrenaline dump. I was able to reholster safely and clear the area quickly, but I remember feeling nauseated, groggy, and confused for 2-3 hours afterwards. This feeling didn't render me a total non-combatant, my ability to make clear, fast decisions in that time was definitely compromised. On the other hand, I did make it a point to get a LOT of distance between me and the place where it happened, so maybe that's the clear, fast decision I needed. I consider this event to have been stressful.

The fourth time was probably the closest to an actual shooting. I was pulling into an inner-city parking place and I remember seeing a man approach in my side mirror. I got the proverbial bad feeling and I didn’t want to be seated when he got to me, so I undid my seatbelt, opened my door, stood up, and drew my 1911 in what seemed like one fluid motion. By the time I got my sights on his chest, he was standing at my bumper. I remember feeling the rounded end of the slide stop under the tip of my trigger finger. I also remember being aware of feeling my thumb on the safety, and remembering that I’d have to flip it down and put my finger on the trigger to shoot him. I told him loudly and repeatedly to leave me alone. He raised his hands and moved back slowly, then turned and walked out of the area. Afterwards, I remember a slight increase in heart rate and a little bit of sweat at the base of my spine, but no nausea. From there, I went about my day as usual.

I don’t remember losing fine motor skills in any of these cases. Better situational awareness would have let me avoid events 3 and 4, so I worked to improve it using the exercise in Cooper's “Principles of Personal Defense”. Apparently I’ve succeeded: I’ve since seen several events coming the proverbial mile away, and handled them with body language, footwork, and verbal diversion.

One of those events took place at a large campout/party with 12-15 civilian friends. After dark, a couple of pickups full of rural types arrived and began to negotiate for access to strong drink, which we possessed in quantity. As soon as I saw headlights on the road outside out campsite, I slipped into the darkness beyond the ring of firelight, got a Scout rifle out of my car trunk, and quietly chambered a round. One of our guys talked them into leaving empty-handed, so I cleared the rifle and put it away. I didn’t tell anyone what I had done for a couple of years, but we had that fight won before it started.

Once you internalize the idea of staying inside someone else’s OODA loop, the whole exercise gets both easier and more interesting.


Okie John

[rathos]

I have one story worth retelling ...

My last and final day of training before I get cut loose on the street. My FTO told me when I got in that so long as I didn't kill him or wreck his car, I was going to pass. Just relax and go do what I do. Great. We all know how that works out...



I had an extremely similar experience. Last night on FTO and about an hour before our shift ended we got called to a house in the middle of nowhere because a husband and wife were fighting. Closest neighbor was 2 miles away and they woke up his daughter with yelling and screaming. Neighbor told us they have two young kids and the dad keeps a single shot 12 gauge and an AK-47 loaded by the door because they have had cougars around lately. We park about a quarter mile away from the house so they won't see the lights and know we are coming. We were also met by two of our beat partners. Because there was talk of a rifle one of them grabs an ar-15. As we walked up to the house we heard her scream, "Oooowwwwwuch, stop it you are hurting me." At that point we started sprinting to the door. My FTO went up to the windows which were huge picture windows looking into the living room as the three of us posted at the door. All of the sudden I see my FTO stand up and point his pistol and then he said, "Fuck there are bedrooms back there kick in the fucking door!!!"

One of our beat partners tried to kick in the door three times and kept bouncing off of it. By the second kick my FTO screamed out, "He is coming" so we backed off the door. The next thing we see is him at the door looking like he is reaching around looking out the window in the door. I remember being really focused on him and I was standing right next to my partner with the AR. They were screaming at him to show his hands and he just kept looking at us with crazy eyes. I then heard my partner click off the safety on his AR and it was the loudest noise I have ever heard. I stopped hearing them scream but I could see their mouths moving. I glanced over and saw him put his finger on the trigger, so I took aim at his face and started in on my trigger pull. I had a sig 228 and was about half way through the pull when he made the best decision of his life and threw up his hands.

Everything after that went pretty quick. He unlocked the door and was helped to the ground while we cuffed him. Wife was out cold, apparently he put her in the camel clutch and choked her out. That was when my FTO stood up. He was going to shoot but saw the rooms behind the perp and remembered they had kids.

The wife woke up and refused the ambulance. She told us they had been at a wedding and were drinking quite a bit and she was mad at him because he had been flirting with other women that day. Perp had also destroyed her cell phone and ripped the home phone out of the wall so she couldn't call anyone. We took his guns, which were right inside the door and loaded and an additional pistol.

We went to trial and wife tried to recant her story. She was also really pissed at us and called us "fucking asshole pigs" in the courtroom waiting area. Before I had to testify the prosecutor played the wife and the suspect a taped jail phone call of her asking why he choked her out and threw her around so he pled guilty. Sad thing is he only got work release for 2 years and probation and was back in the house right away. I think his guns were auctioned off...

[RevolverRob]

I've had one incident where I put my hand on a weapon.

I was working for the family business (HVAC) and we were doing an install in a really rough neighborhood in south Dallas. To put it in perspective, we were working in an apartment complex where the unit we were working on had burned, because the meth lab exploded. When we went to bid the job there was ServePro cleanup crew, cleaning up the remnants of a weekend knife fight across the parking lot. We were finishing the day up and I was taking tools down to the truck. My dad and our other employee were upstairs in the unit. I was downstairs putting tools in the work van. My dad always bought passenger window vans as work vans and tinted the windows dark, so you can see all the way around (no blind sides), but can't see in. As I am putting tools away, I am constantly watching. I see a green Cadillac go buy, occupied twice. It drives past and I note it. Forty seconds go by and now I am about to close the truck up and make another trip for tools and equipment upstairs. I see the Caddy approach from the offside of the van, this time crawling around the van.

The driver pulls up behind the van and I see him and the passenger having a conversation. At this point, I know what is about to happen...they didn't need directions to church. The driver motions to the passenger who reaches into the glovebox and comes out with some kind of object low (I couldn't see what, I assumed weapon). I know how this looks - 2 on 1, work van loaded with tools, and not a witness in sight. I'm watching these guys through the windows of the van. I can see these guys discussing how to jack me. I remember distinctly, I could hear someone upstairs running an electric drill, on the other side of the apartment complex someone honked a horn, things seemed to slow down. The driver put the car in park, the passenger reached for the door handle of the car and started to get out. I stepped away from the van, looked straight at the vehicle, reached under my shirt in what is best described as a "furtive gesture" and placed my hand on the butt of the Model 64 I had in a shoulder holster. The driver and passenger got the biggest eyes I have ever seen, knew exactly what was about to happen, the driver threw the car in drive and hauled ass out of there, they did not come back.

I remember that I was very focused on the threat, but I still remember things in my peripheral vision, at some point I had popped the buttons on my cover shirt to get a smooth draw and I had subconsciously angled myself so the passenger (who I thought was armed, the driver I was unsure of) would be the first one in my sights. Afterwards, I locked the truck, walked back upstairs, and sat down on a pile of drywall and drank a coke while I re-ran what happened. I didn't really have an adrenaline dump and I remember after the fact being surprised that I knew exactly what was about to happen and was very calm about it. I didn't realize it then, but my father witnessed the incident. He had come to the window and was about to shout for me to bring a tool back, when he saw the Cadillac and my laser focus on it. He said he knew then what was happening and saw the passenger pull something shiny and metallic out of the glovebox but was too far away to tell if it was a gun, knife, or something else like a tool.

-Rob

[breakingtime91]

I have only ever gotten close to drawing a gun once as a civilian. I had just gotten out of the marine corps and my wife had just finished her MOS school for the airforce. This led to us switchin duty stations so we were driving from California to montana. As soon as we left that state I put my 357 Lcr on my person and continued driving. We had our German shephard with us so that limited our hotel options so we ended up at a bad area of one of the cities we stopped on. After settling in, I took my dog out into a court yard type area. While out there I started to hear choice language and saw two men approaching from the opposite side of the court yard. There was a homeless man between them and myself and that's when I first got the feelin that something was not good and brought my dog in close so I could control her better. As they got close to the other guy, they knocked him to the ground and that's when they noticed me, honestly I don't know what gave me away (it was dark with very little light), it might of been my Dog growling, but ya I couldn't tell you. I tried to grab my flashlight but I had a leash in my hand so that quickly failed (I wanted to try to intimidate them With the light). This is when I started to get a sick to my stomach feeling at this point (I always got this feelin right at the beginning of a fire fight during deployments also) and at that point I made the decision to show them I was armed. So I cleared my fleece and put my hand on my gun while it was still in the holster (appendix position). This also failed because it was dark so they didn't see it at first. They got about 5 yards from me and stopped because my shepherd was going nuts. That's when I told them I was armed and for some reason I let them know I was a marine corps infantryman and combat veteran, one of the guys said something, I don't recall what he said. It was probably only 10 second but they just stood there staring at me. I said "well?" And they just turned away and walked the way they came.

I learned a few things that night
1)posturing is important, I let them know I wasn't just a weak white guy.
2) I was glad I had night sights and crimson trace grips on my gun since I couldn't access my light.
3) I was not confident in only having 5 rounds, now when ever possible I carry a gun with more rounds.

[Chuck Haggard]

The first time I pulled a gun on another human being I was 12 years old. Parents were out for the evening. Dude tried to get in our back door. I grabbed my H&R break barrel 12 gauge, clicked on the hallway light so he could see me through the window on the door, and dropped a 3" magnum "duck and goose" load into the chamber and closed the gun. Dude left in a highly motivated manner.

Since then I've had handguns out on numerous occasions, in an off-duty situation (which I feel is pretty much the same as regular folks with a CCW). I've never had the nerves hit in any of those (although a three bad guy situation was a bit worrisome due to me having a just 642 and a Spyderco....) because frankly having a gun in my hand is calming.

[JM Campbell]

Psst Chuck that's because I've seen how you shoot. That would calm my nerves too.

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[Beat Trash]

Over the last 30 years of carrying a gun, either as a small business owner in a scenic neighborhood, or during the last 22 years of inter-city LEO work, I've had an incident or two.

The one that stands out is actually an off-duty incident. My wife (since divorce) and I had dropped off my 3 yr old at a church function with relatives. We decided to play hookie and grabbed coffee, pastries, and the newspaper and drove to a near by empty lot across from a major grocery store. I had backed the car into the lot with the rear of the car about 20 yes from a 3" wall at the end of the property. My toddler was behind the wheel pretending to drive the car and I was in the front passenger seat. Live was good.

I happened to catch movement in the side mirror and looked to see an individual in the late teens, early 20's hop the wall behind us and immediately put the hood of his sweatshirt up and completely cover his face with it. He was watching the mirrors as he was trying to approach from the drivers side blind spot as his right hand was jammed into the front pocket of the hoodie. There was some type of lump/object in the hoodie in addition to his hand. I had a S&W 642 on me, and immediately jumped out of the car with my pistol under a section of the newspaper and yelled some type of challenge to him, like "What do you want?", as I moved so as my kid wasn't between the two of us. He ignored me and got to within about 3" from the drivers side door handle. I put him at gunpoint and told him if he touched that door handle, or if I see anything come out of that pocket other than his slow and empty hand, I'd shoot him. He turned and ran.

This was about 15 years ago, before the proliferation of cell phones. I decided the best course of action was to get my family out of the area. I called the District that I was in and advised the Beat officers of the suspect's description.

After the incident, I replayed it in my head, and critiqued the entire thing. After that, I put the 642 back into the safe and got out the Glock 26 I owned. Had I needed to shoot him, it was about a 7-10 yd shot. Had he had a friend or two... I could shoot my 642 ok. I could shoot my 9mm's much more proficiently. That was the last time I ever carried a 5 shot -Frame as a sole or primary firearm.