Article published Oct 24, 2007
FORUM: Pistol-packing professors?
October 24, 2007
If you ever find yourself perusing the newspaper archives at your local library, take a few minutes to track down and compare the Aug. 2, 1966, and April 17, 2007, editions of any American newspaper.
You'll undoubtedly find that, for two papers written more than four decades apart, they tell strikingly similar stories.
In both editions you'll likely see that coverage of American soldiers fighting a publicly unpopular war overseas is pushed to the back pages by news of a mass shooting on the campus of a major university. But although the headlines suggest a classic case of 'history repeats itself,' the facts lurking beyond the newsprint actually tell a very different story.
On the morning of Aug. 1, 1966, few people had ever considered the possibility they might die in an indiscriminate shooting spree. But shortly before noon on that fateful day, a 25-year-old ex-Marine climbed to the top of the University of Texas bell tower and created a worldwide reference point for such fears.
As police rushed to the scene, officers already on the UT campus struggled to formulate a plan. At that time the Austin Police Department had no SWAT team. Officers were armed only with service revolvers and shotguns, both useless against a sniper firing from a fortified position high above the ground.
Seeing something had to be done, students quickly retrieved hunting rifles from dorm rooms and fraternity houses, took up defensive positions throughout the campus, and returned fire.
In the August 2006 edition of Texas Monthly magazine, Bill Helmer, a graduate student at UT during the shooting, recalled the experience to journalist Pamela Colloff: "I remember thinking, 'All we need is a bunch of idiots running around with rifles.' But what they did turned out to be brilliant. Once [the shooter] could no longer lean over the edge and fire, he was much more limited in what he could do. ... That's why he did most of his damage in the first 20 minutes."
Flash forward 40 years, eight months, and 15 days, to the campus of Virginia Tech. Again students and faculty on a college campus found themselves under fire from a madman. This time there are no armed citizens to fend off the attack. Students and faculty are left with little recourse but to hide under their desks, as surviving victim Emily Haas told CNN, "waiting and hoping [the shooter] wouldn't come in."
Sadly, the shooter did come into Emily's room. She survived with only superficial wounds, but her professor and 10 classmates lost their lives to a killer whose only advantage over his victims was a complete disregard for VT's "gun free" policy.
Though the notion of an indiscriminate shooting spree was a foreign concept in 1966, it's now very much a part of the national consciousness. Terms like "going postal" now litter the American vernacular. Students at elementary schools practice what to do in such an attack, much the as their grandparents practiced "duck and cover" nuclear attack drills in the midst of the Cold War.
Yet, despite this awareness of and apparent desire to prepare for such threats, any suggestion armed citizens might mitigate future shooting sprees — as in the case the Texas University sniper attack — is met with scorn and ridicule.
In the decades between these two college massacres, a pervasive idea took hold. Many individuals, particularly in academic circles, began to view firearms as barbaric tools of violence — symbols of machismo and false bravado — only carried by men with small egos and smaller anatomies. Anyone advocating carrying a handgun for self-defense is called a "cowboy" with a "John Wayne complex."
Whenever anyone suggests allowing license holders to carry concealed handguns on college campuses, just as they're allowed at movie theaters, office buildings, shopping malls, and most other places, laughter, not intelligent rebuttal, is the response. Whenever proponents of "concealed carry" cite the success of concealed carry laws throughout the nation, as well as studies showing concealed handgun license holders are significantly less likely than non-license holders to commit violent crimes, they are answered with mockery, rather than intelligent discourse.
In the world of academia and intellectual free expression, some issues are apparently not open for discussion.
This week (Oct. 22-26) students on more than 100 college campuses throughout the United States are wearing empty holsters as they about their daily routines, as a reminder to everyone who sees them that they are defenseless against anyone who is not concerned with following the rules. These students understand something that students at the University of Texas took for granted in summer 1966: All people have an innate right to defend themselves.
W. SCOTT LEWIS
Media coordinator for Students for Concealed Carry on Campus. For more information on Students for Concealed Carry on Campus, please visit www.ConcealedCampus.com.
FORUM: Pistol-packing professors?
October 24, 2007
If you ever find yourself perusing the newspaper archives at your local library, take a few minutes to track down and compare the Aug. 2, 1966, and April 17, 2007, editions of any American newspaper.
You'll undoubtedly find that, for two papers written more than four decades apart, they tell strikingly similar stories.
In both editions you'll likely see that coverage of American soldiers fighting a publicly unpopular war overseas is pushed to the back pages by news of a mass shooting on the campus of a major university. But although the headlines suggest a classic case of 'history repeats itself,' the facts lurking beyond the newsprint actually tell a very different story.
On the morning of Aug. 1, 1966, few people had ever considered the possibility they might die in an indiscriminate shooting spree. But shortly before noon on that fateful day, a 25-year-old ex-Marine climbed to the top of the University of Texas bell tower and created a worldwide reference point for such fears.
As police rushed to the scene, officers already on the UT campus struggled to formulate a plan. At that time the Austin Police Department had no SWAT team. Officers were armed only with service revolvers and shotguns, both useless against a sniper firing from a fortified position high above the ground.
Seeing something had to be done, students quickly retrieved hunting rifles from dorm rooms and fraternity houses, took up defensive positions throughout the campus, and returned fire.
In the August 2006 edition of Texas Monthly magazine, Bill Helmer, a graduate student at UT during the shooting, recalled the experience to journalist Pamela Colloff: "I remember thinking, 'All we need is a bunch of idiots running around with rifles.' But what they did turned out to be brilliant. Once [the shooter] could no longer lean over the edge and fire, he was much more limited in what he could do. ... That's why he did most of his damage in the first 20 minutes."
Flash forward 40 years, eight months, and 15 days, to the campus of Virginia Tech. Again students and faculty on a college campus found themselves under fire from a madman. This time there are no armed citizens to fend off the attack. Students and faculty are left with little recourse but to hide under their desks, as surviving victim Emily Haas told CNN, "waiting and hoping [the shooter] wouldn't come in."
Sadly, the shooter did come into Emily's room. She survived with only superficial wounds, but her professor and 10 classmates lost their lives to a killer whose only advantage over his victims was a complete disregard for VT's "gun free" policy.
Though the notion of an indiscriminate shooting spree was a foreign concept in 1966, it's now very much a part of the national consciousness. Terms like "going postal" now litter the American vernacular. Students at elementary schools practice what to do in such an attack, much the as their grandparents practiced "duck and cover" nuclear attack drills in the midst of the Cold War.
Yet, despite this awareness of and apparent desire to prepare for such threats, any suggestion armed citizens might mitigate future shooting sprees — as in the case the Texas University sniper attack — is met with scorn and ridicule.
In the decades between these two college massacres, a pervasive idea took hold. Many individuals, particularly in academic circles, began to view firearms as barbaric tools of violence — symbols of machismo and false bravado — only carried by men with small egos and smaller anatomies. Anyone advocating carrying a handgun for self-defense is called a "cowboy" with a "John Wayne complex."
Whenever anyone suggests allowing license holders to carry concealed handguns on college campuses, just as they're allowed at movie theaters, office buildings, shopping malls, and most other places, laughter, not intelligent rebuttal, is the response. Whenever proponents of "concealed carry" cite the success of concealed carry laws throughout the nation, as well as studies showing concealed handgun license holders are significantly less likely than non-license holders to commit violent crimes, they are answered with mockery, rather than intelligent discourse.
In the world of academia and intellectual free expression, some issues are apparently not open for discussion.
This week (Oct. 22-26) students on more than 100 college campuses throughout the United States are wearing empty holsters as they about their daily routines, as a reminder to everyone who sees them that they are defenseless against anyone who is not concerned with following the rules. These students understand something that students at the University of Texas took for granted in summer 1966: All people have an innate right to defend themselves.
W. SCOTT LEWIS
Media coordinator for Students for Concealed Carry on Campus. For more information on Students for Concealed Carry on Campus, please visit www.ConcealedCampus.com.
