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Aftermath of a shooting

In the summer of 1991, Virginia Beach, VA. I was involved in an incident
in which shots were fired. I did not fire them, but witnesses identified me as the shooter. I am posting this story to illustrate
what can and did happen.

I lived on the end of a dead end street near Newtown Road in Virginia
Beach. My neighbors had gotten clearance from the city to close off the
street and have a block party. There was a lot of beer drinking and BBQ.
I had been out at the movies with my (then) wife. I had NOT been
drinking, nor had my wife. We arrived home at about 10:00 pm, and found
some of the neighbors still partying. The wife stayed out to talk to the
neighbors, but the BBQ was all gone, so I went in the house to make a
sandwich.

When I came back outside, I found her and my next door neighbor having a
loud argument with a man I had never seen before. I walked over in time
to hear the man threaten to strike my wife. I walked over and asked
what the problem was. The man told me that he was going to beat up this
“asshole and his cunt girlfriend.” I said that I didn’t know what the
problem was, but that he should not refer to my wife that way, and that he
needed to leave. I told him that I had already called the cops, and that if he
left right away, I would forget what he looked like when the cops
arrived.

He told me that if I didn’t get out of the way, I was gonna get it, too.
That was when I noticed that he was holding a baseball bat. Seeing a
weapon immediately changed my mindset. I drew my weapon (at the time I
carried a S&W 4506) and ordered him to drop the bat. Still holding
the bat, he turned around and walked away, and told me he was a part of
The Bayside Arms Posse” and that he was going to come back and show me
whose town this was.

We called the cops. 15 minutes later, they arrived, and assured me that
they would handle it by driving the area (Bayside Arms Apartments) where
the gang hangs out. They left.

A few minutes later, there was a neighbor from a few doors down knocking
at my back door. It seems there were 6 or 7 teens going door to
door looking for me, and she wanted to warn me. As my wife again called the police, I grabbed my
shotgun (870 Wingmaster with 19 inch barrel and an extended 8 round mag
tube) and opened the door. I racked the shotgun, and immediately heard
someone yell “They have guns, let’s get out of here!” The teens jumped in a
car with no license plate, and fled with their lights off. I did not see
them very well, so I could not tell anyone if it was the same guy or not.

When the police arrived (ten minutes later) they searched the
neighborhood, and then they left, promising to make more frequent
patrols. My neighbor came over, and we both agreed that the idiots would
return. I sat out front in the parking lot, in my car. My neighbor in his. As it turned out, we didn’t have to wait long…

[There are those who will say that we shouldn’t have waited out front
for them, but I don’t think it was wise to sit inside the house, either.
We had already called the cops twice, and they had done nothing. You
can call what we did an ambush, but it isn’t like two car loads of armed
gang members coming to a house on a dead end street (that was private
property) after midnight were going door to door selling girl scout
cookies.- DM]

part two is here, part three is here.