He screws up his face in twenty-year-old indignation. “What's that mean?”
“I mean…it's complicated.”
“Dad. It's not complicated. It's a question. Why can't they just get rid of the fucking guns?”
I turn and stare at him.
“The NRA for one.”
He frowns and asks…the question.
“Who the fuck is the NRA?”
I don't know anyone in the National Rifle Association. I see the red stickers on the back windows of pickup trucks or on a bumper. They are sometimes joined by yellow “Don't Tread On Me” stickers. I have seen Wayne La Pierre give a speech surrounded by armed men after a horrific shooting where he says the only way to stop a bad guy with a gun is to give a gun to a good guy. I have seen Conceal and Carry Class signs on the side of the road. I have seen presidents complain about the NRA and I have heard of senators forced out of office because they voted for gun control. I saw a tape of Donald Trump speaking to the NRA in which he said Hillary Clinton wanted to take away everyone's guns. I have heard that gun sales went through the roof when Obama was elected. But as an urban/suburban American I have had no direct contact with the National Rifle Association or anyone who is a member.
The history of the National Rifle Association is actually very different from its image today as the hard-charging political organization that will cut down anyone who opposes them. The NRA was actually born of necessity. Union soldiers just couldn't hit the Confederates. They fired one thousand bullets for every Confederate shot. The problem was that nobody understood the new rifle barrels that could actually be aimed at a soldier. They still fired large-volley enfilades as though they were using smooth-bore muskets. This concerned Captain George Wingate as he considered it in 1871, after the Civil War had ended. How could there be a national army for defense if no one could hit the broadside of a barn?
Wingate sent men to Europe to learn how they trained their troops, and on November 16, 1871, he and Army and Navy Journal editor William Church organized the National Rifle Association in New York.1 They elected Union general Ambrose Burnside as their first president. They immediately set up shooting ranges to start instructing soldiers on how to shoot and hit their targets. Even though the Civil War was over, General Wingate believed it was better late than never. He wrote the first marksmanship manual in the United States on how to shoot a rifle and hit the target. Small clubs started to spring up in other states. For the first time, there was a civic organization to teach soldiers how to shoot a rifle. Wingate's manual turned into the United States’ marksmanship instruction program.
This was first time anyone had taken on the lack of training with modern weapons in the United States military. General Ulysses S. Grant served as the NRA's eighth president and General Philip Sheridan as its ninth. The organization was strictly intended to improve the use of firearms to protect the country. The headquarters was located in Washington, DC, with a connection to the military occurring through the Civilian Marksmanship Program that would train civilians who might be called to service.
The first link between the firearms industry and the NRA began in 1910 when the Springfield Armory and Rock Island Arsenal manufactured the M1903 Springfield for members of the NRA. Soon after this, the director of Civilian Marksmanship began to have M1911 pistols made for members. Beginning in 1903, the government provided money for shooting tournaments, ammunition, and targets for NRA members.2 It made sense at the time that the government would support an organization that helped men shoot straight and hit their targets. This went back to the English, who wanted citizens to be well-versed in the handling of weapons so they might aid in policing and defense against attack from another power. The same attitude prevailed in 1776. The nascent government wanted the citizenry to be well armed to protect the rights granted in the fledgling democracy.
So in the early twentieth century, ammunition, targets, and specially made weapons were a small price to pay for an army that could at least hit the enemy. The legislative branch of the NRA would not come until 1934, when the first gun-control legislation was passed in the United States. The National Firearms Act (NFA), passed in 1934, was supported by NRA president Karl Frederick. In hearings, he said, “I have never believed in the general practice of carrying weapons. I seldom carry one…. I do not believe in the general promiscuous toting of guns. I think it should be sharply restricted and only under licenses.”3 So here we have a very different NRA. The NFA of 1934 and the Gun Control Act (GCA) of 1968, which created a system of licensing gun dealers and restricted certain weapons, were both supported by the NRA. The truth is that the NRA was not interested in opposing gun control and was in fact an organization of hunters and sportsman. The role of training soldiers to shoot had been taken over by the army, but after the GCA of 1968 a new type of gun-rights activist came on the scene with the establishment of the lobbying arm of the NRA, known as the Institute for Legislative Action.
A political action committee, the Political Victory Fund, followed and was used against perceived anti-gun candidates in the 1976 election. The NRA permanently changed their course at the 1977 convention in Cincinnati when activists took over with an agenda of strict adherence to Second Amendment issues. The transformation from a gun club to a political organization aligned with conservatives and Republicans had been mostly completed by the eighties. The NRA was considered the most powerful lobbying organization in the United States by 2001.4 Eighty-eight percent of Republicans had received a contribution in some form or another in 2001.5 Political candidates were scored from A+ to F for how strongly they supported gun issues in national elections, and millions of dollars were pumped into elections to defeat those in favor of gun control. At the same time, the NRA claimed to be the “oldest civil rights organization in America” but this claim can be disputed as they did not aggressively push for gun rights until 1934.6 The protection of the Second Amendment, the right to bear arms, therefore is deemed a fight for and about civil rights.
So what happened? How could an organization devoted to target practice turn into this virulent machine that cuts down any type of gun-control legislation? In 1968, the United States was in the middle of a cultural revolution. The silent moral majority was a term coined by President Richard Nixon and described as a force to be reckoned with. We had had the Democratic Convention protests in Chicago. We had Woodstock, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, drugs, protests against the war in Vietnam, civil rights unrest, and those long-haired bearded bums. All this contributed to the feeling that core American values were under siege. And one of those core American values is the right to bear arms.
In the most turbulent year of the sixties, 1968, the NRA veered into the “you are either for us or against us” mode and never looked back. Violence in America was making people question the legitimacy of owning a gun in an urbanized country. Handguns were viewed as a scourge. At the same time that the gun culture was waning, the NRA stuck a spike in the side of the mountain and basically said it would be relevant and preserve that traditional piece of the American way of life. And any attempt to abrogate or infringe any aspect of gun ownership would be viewed as an assault on the Second Amendment. To give an inch would be to give a mile so the inch would not be given. Stopping someone's right to own an assault weapon will lead to a corrosion of the basic right to bear arms, according to the NRA, and this will lead to an assault on American freedoms. Guns protect our rights and so guns must be protected fiercely, and those who want to abrogate or modify or adjust that right will be given no quarter. This has led to political cryogenics on gun control. No one wants to take on the NRA.
The first presidential candidate endorsed by the NRA was Ronald Reagan in 1980. Donald Trump's bid for the presidency was the first time the NRA endorsed a candidate early in the election process. The NRA spent over fifteen million dollars in the 2012 election targeting Barack Obama to steer votes away from him.7 The NRA routinely sues American cities that have gun-control legislation on the books, for
cing cities like Chicago and San Francisco to repeal gun legislation. They successfully fought the implementation of the Assault Weapons Ban when it expired in 20048 and they are in favor of conceal and carry laws in all public places in the United States. Wayne La Pierre, the NRA's current president, began as a lobbyist for the NRA and is the face of the not giving an inch or they will take a mile attitude that prohibits gun control in any form.
Few can forget the face of the NRA when Wayne La Pierre's answer to Sandy Hook was armed guards in every school and at the same time fighting off any curbs on assault weapons, including any restrictions on high-capacity magazines.9 The actor Charlton Heston made history by holding up a musket at the NRA's annual convention and declaring they would have to take it from his “cold dead hands,”10 invoking patriots of the Revolution from Patrick Henry to George Washington.
A major victory for the NRA was the passage of the Protection of Lawful Commerce in Firearms Act during President George W. Bush's administration. This made it impossible for victims of shootings to sue the manufactures of weapons used in those shootings. The Sandy Hook parents took a run at this law and are still litigating, saying that the AR-15 was marketed as a weapon designed to kill humans.
The NRA sued San Francisco over its restrictive gun laws and had the city pay $380,000 in legal costs as well as forcing the abolition of Proposition H, which banned ownership and sale of firearms.11 The NRA sued New Orleans when guns were confiscated during Hurricane Katrina. The city was forced to return all weapons to their owners.12 Chicago was next to be sued by the NRA, this time over handgun laws. The city was forced to repeal the laws restricting the use of handguns.13 The State of New York was then forced to repeal a law restricting the size of magazines for automatic weapons.14 Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, and Lancaster all were sued and forced to repeal gun legislation.15
The National Rifle Association had begun as an organization to help soldiers shoot straight and hit their targets after the Civil War. It had then morphed into an organization promoting gun safety and training. It later morphed further into a civil rights organization that was solely concerned with protecting the right to bear arms under the Second Amendment. And it transformed yet again into a political organization that joined forces with conservative coalitions to choose candidates friendly to the issues the NRA supports, which are those of the Far Right.
In the year 2018, the NRA continues as a political lobbying organization fighting any type of gun-control legislation in the United States. Over 72 percent of NRA members support expanded background checks for gun purchases and common-sense gun laws. Esteban Santiago broke no laws although he had been deemed mentally ill.16 He was given back his gun twice, even though he told the FBI he had voices telling him to kill. He then boarded a plane with his gun and ammunition in a protective case and flew to Fort Lauderdale to shoot as many people as he could. Those early patriots, who created the National Rifle Association so a man could aim at the side of a barn and not miss, would have been appalled.
Terror is something you have to experience to understand the word. It is uncertainty, fear, and stress, coupled with a feeling of impending doom. It is the unknown that grips you, and we are not a people equipped to handle this new emotion. Middle-class people mostly live lives that follow patterns and these patterns give us expected results: school, college, work, family, retirement, dying only of disease or natural causes. The pioneers were much more experienced with terror. They experienced the terror of Indian attacks, starvation, bears, freezing to death, disease, dying from lack of water and shelter, even loneliness. The people who settled America knew life was short and terror sat at their elbow. Many would leave their bones on the plains after starvation, exposure, or Indian attacks robbed them of their lives. The unexpected was expected.
Corporations have given Americans a model to plug into, and risk aversion has become a way of life. Terror for modern people belongs in the television. Our terror is confined to doctor visits where unknown diseases lurk. So when we are confronted with terror, be it through a shooting or a bombing, we aren't quite sure what to do with this catastrophic anxiety. Our only response is to get as far away as possible and that is our focus now—to escape from the Fort Lauderdale–Hollywood International Airport.
We hear rumors again that buses are coming but no one confirms this. Kitty, Callie, and Careen are still in the car, but the photographer lets us know she will be leaving soon and she can't take anyone with her. The police are trying to contain the ten thousand people at the airport with the idea that a shooter still might be hiding out somewhere. People who have tried to escape the airport by climbing fences or running across fields are frozen in time by photographers taking pictures of them with their hands high in the air as heavily armed SWAT officers intercept their flight.
The bottom line is that we have to be ready to go at a moment's notice. All our energy is focused on escaping the airport. The airport is danger. The airport is uncontrolled and the atmosphere resembles a battlefield, with SWAT teams wandering around, not sure where the next shot might come from. I notice that the governor has quickly departed after giving his news conference. The media men and women are hanging around with their microphones ready. I have fielded more than a few calls from radio stations asking for a live interview. One woman is going to call me back and interview me when I know when we are leaving.
A central problem is that we still have no luggage and all our clothes and belongings are back in Terminal 1. Irrationally, I feel that if I could retrieve our luggage then I could take back some control and this would lead to escape. All day long we have been swept up in events that have left us powerless and in danger. I feel that if I could get our luggage then we will be closer to leaving and getting to a place of safety. I think of that old movie Casablanca where everyone is hanging around trying to get a flight to America while the Nazis close in. The people sitting, lying, sleeping, and staring remind me of those trapped people during World War II. It is hot, still oppressive. Everyone in the film wants to get out of Casablanca and escape to America; our hell is that this is America.
“I'm going back to try and get our luggage again,” I declare, standing up. “We need it to get out of here.”
Clay stares at me shaking his head.
“You want to go?” I ask him.
“No!”
“Okay…I'll be back.”
I walk over between the police cars, ambulances, fire trucks, and armored SWAT vans and rap on the photographer's car window. Kitty lowers the glass.
“How's everyone doing?”
Kitty looks at the girls, who are both on their phones. Normalcy to some degree has returned to their little oasis, but I know it is temporary. I bend down closer to the window.
“I'm going back to Terminal 1 to get our luggage.”
Kitty gives me the same look that Clay had. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
“I have to. We have to get the fuck out of here and we need our stuff.” I look up as a bus roars by. There are lots of buses but no one knows where they are loading and when they will be leaving. There are lots of rumors “Eventually, they are going to have to get us out of here and I want our luggage so we don't have to come back. We'll rent a car and drive home. All of this will be behind us. Fuck this airport and fuck flying home.”
Kitty nods. “Sounds good to me.”
We both have been thinking of driving home. I have already worked out that we are not coming back once we get out of the airport. People have been shot and died here. It is not a place I want to come back to. Escape. Escape. Escape. This is all I am focused on. Once we get clear we will rent a car and drive back to Chicago. The cost is no longer important; what is important is getting home safely. It is luxurious to think of the privacy and safety of a car trip right now. Anything is better than hanging around a hot sweaty airport with constant fear gnawing at us like a metastasizing disease. I want to be away from the airport, where armed men look for another armed man.
Kitty squeezes my hand.
“Be careful.”
“Absolutely.”
I begin to walk back toward Terminal 1 again. There are big police vans all over the place. I assume they contain some sort of evidence-gathering equipment. I weave through the media lights and the people who had interviewed me. They say nothing and laugh and talk among themselves. They have some sort of psychological armor that allows them to interview people whose husband, son, wife, or daughter has just been shot and killed and not to feel the pain. They are on a different level in a different world where they are untouchable. The rest of the world is ugly, tired, and used up. They are young, handsome, beautiful, and, what's more, they are on television.
I clear the media trucks and pass the Japanese woman who had stared at me before sitting down. She stares at me now with blank eyes that say nothing at all. The woman with the ukulele is sitting on the curb still picking out songs. Other people just stare out into the early darkness with the thousand-yard stare of soldiers. Everyone has been revved up way too long. We have all been in danger and our bodies are tired of being ready to run or fight. And those of us who have heard the shots know someone is still out there with a gun.
I see Terminal 1 and the door is open. There is no one there and, without thinking, I walk in and am met by a tall armed SWAT officer. He has an enormous jaw and a helmet on. He stares at me with his rifle at the ready. The terminal is littered with the belongings of people who have run for their lives—purses, phones, wallets, drinks, food, shoes, socks, strollers, diapers, bottles, beach towels, sunglasses, Band-Aids, Chapstick, makeup, and hundreds of pieces of luggage. The silence of the terminal is startling. People had dropped everything and ran when the shots went off. The SWAT officer speaks without taking his hand off his gun.
“You gotta leave.”
The voice is deep, authoritarian, and very close. I turn and see a man dressed for combat, wearing camouflage and holding a big ugly rifle. The solider is standing to my left and just then I see our luggage cart. Some of the luggage has fallen out but I count the six suitcases and two carry-on bags. Everything is there. He points to the door.
Shots Fired in Terminal 2 Page 13