Katrina,
My pistol packing days date from the American Indian Movement occupation of Wounded Knee and a series of articles I wrote condemning what a bunch of out-of-state pseudo Indians were doing on the rez. I received some death threats for those articles and since those threats were a lot more credible than anything coming from a Tony Dean pal, given that there had already been some murders by AIM members, a gun dealer friend of mine talked me into buying a 357 magnum and learning to use it. And as a bit of advice, he said shoot for the chest - it's harder to miss than a headshot and will stop them dead.
I helped sponsor a series of speeches by FBI agent Douglas Durham, who went undercover and infiltrated AIM on the rez. Through the media, AIM made the threat that Durham would never leave SD alive and the last speech he gave was the one in my hometown. Security was intense. Law enforcement officers from local, state and federal agencies were everywhere and the speech went off without a hitch, but our local sheriff and my cop father told me to keep my pistol with me whenever I was out alone. It got to be a habit and I've kept my concealed weapon permit current, although I hate to fire that 357 without earplugs. Dang thing would make you go deaf if you had to shoot the whole clip.
