Let Freedom -- and Gunshots -- Ring
In the wake of last week's terrorist attack, local big-gun lovers were deadly serious about staging their Fun Shoot.
The recoil of the big gun was hardly more than that of a 12-gauge shotgun. Yet the report was deep and satisfying, as much tactile as it was aural. Even when standing yards away, you could feel the big bullet's explosions from inside the gun's thick metal barrel, beginning in your chest and vibrating down your legs. Effortlessly, I nailed a 24-inch bulldozer wheel a good 1,500 feet away. The bullet went clean through the inch-thick metal. It felt good.
We all felt good. That Saturday night, the Morgan County field lit up with exploding propane tanks and burning cars and tracer rounds that flew through the dark Colorado night like a thousand fireflies, and everyone stood to cheer and yell. In a country struck low by pocket knives, box cutters and passenger planes, what was the harm? "This is why we fight wars, isn't it?" Brown asked.
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Bob agreed. "You got to get closure somehow," he said.
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