1 May 17
“At least once, everyone should have to run for his life, so he will know and understand that eggs don’t come from stores, that safety does not come from police, and that ‘news’ is not something that happens to other people.”
A “success story,” from a student on the East coast. She lives alone in a “gated” community:
“Sometimes, instructors like you may never how critically you’ve changed a student, right from the beginning. The following narrative may help you to know how profoundly you’ve changed me!
As you know, I live in an ostensibly secure, ‘gated’ community. There is a guard at the entry all the time, along with walls, fences, gates, alarms, security patrols, etc. ‘This is the safest community in the whole state,’ we are constantly told, mostly to justify outrageous fees we pay to live here!
Our community’s accepted protocol is that you never just ‘drop in,’ on a resident, unannounced. You’re expected to call ahead in order to arrange any visit. Accordingly, the only people I ever expect to knock on my door are ones I’ve invited and am expecting. For one, I never invite anyone over before 10:00am, nor after 8:00pm.
Two Sunday mornings ago, at around 6:00am, I’m awakened by my dogs yelping frantically. I’m not sure of the time, but I know it is early!
Before emerging from my bedroom, I put on my tactical belt, which holds my holstered G19 and two spare magazines. The ensemble is always next to my bed when I retire.
I concealed it all under a shirt, and then went to see what the fuss was about.
The ‘Ring’ doorbell I had installed as a security measure was alarming, and that is why the dogs were barking.
It was daylight, so I didn’t think there was much risk in opening the door. It must be a groundskeeper, I thought. Of course, it was Sunday, and no workers are allowed on property on weekends, but my mind hadn’t gotten that far yet!
Without really thinking, I opened the door.
I was greeted by two men I did not recognize, but they looked like landscapers.
They addressed me in Spanish. I understand a little Spanish, but not when people speak fast! The only thing I can make out is the word ‘cinco,’ meaning ‘five.’ I had no idea what they’re talking about!
By now, twenty seconds have gone by, and I’m thinking that this is getting dangerous, and I’m really foolish to just stand here!
Suddenly, one of them takes two steps toward me, holding a piece of paper.
I finally got in gear!
I assumed the interview stance from which I had started so many tactical exercises during my training. I yelled, ‘No!’
He immediately stepped backward while saying ‘No Mamma!’
I never showed them my pistol, but my right hand was already on it, in my master grip.
Both suspects immediately stumble backward, turn around, and hurriedly returned to their parked car. Without delay, they drive away.
Back inside, I was on the phone right away. I called the front gate and asked they why they’re letting workers in on weekends. The front gate ‘safety officer’ abruptly cut me off, saying he needed to call police!
At this point, I really annoyed, and a little frightened!
Less than a minute later, three uniformed ‘safety officers’ show up at my door. I told them the story, including a description of the two suspects, plus a description of their car.
One of the officers asked me, ‘Were they wet?’ I told him I couldn’t be sure.
At this point, I am definitely more angry than frightened. Mostly angry at myself for ever opening the door!
Being now wide awake, I turn on TV news, only to hear that this very morning border patrol agents had intercepted a boat filled with illegal migrants, and that several had jumped overboard, swam ashore, and had not yet been found. Then, ‘… but authorities are searching for them near and around an exclusive beach-front community.’
I’m really awake now!
Shortly thereafter the ‘safety officers’ returned and reported that Sheriff’s deputies had arrested two suspects, doubtless the same two who showed-up at my door twenty minutes earlier! They finished their report to me by saying, ‘Don’t worry. You’re safe now.’
I said (to myself), ‘Skippy, you have no idea how safe I am!’
My skills are taking shape! I’m obviously far from perfect, but my training truly functioned that morning, fuzzy or not.
And, I no longer harbor any delusions about ‘living in a safe place,’ if I ever did!”
Comment: “Safety” is a delusory term we’ve naively invented in order to describe a non-existent phenomenon!
You are never “safe,” no matter where you are, nor what you’re doing, nor whom you’re with!
Equipment, no matter how formidable and expensive, will never lift us from the status of “voluntarily victim”
Competent training will, as we see!
“A superior man, when resting in ‘safety,’ forgets not that peril is ever present. When in a state of ‘security,’ he forgets not that ruin is only a breath away. When all is ‘orderly,’ he forgets not that chaos ever hovers over him.
Thus, his state and clans are preserved.”