☝ Stories from a CCW Holder 👂

[Protected One]

Christmas eve 2015 I was meeting a carpet cleaner at a rental condo that I own. As I arrived, I saw the guys truck parked at the front door...and the knucklehead who lived in the unit above was pulled up beside him, door to door, giving him trouble about parking there.

I blew my horn because he was blocking the aisle. He pulled ahead and parked, but waited for me to exit my vehicle before he got out, spouting profanities about what he was going to do to me. He was surprised when I stopped in my tracks and faced him, with a facial expression that I hoped said - "bring it". I had had trouble with him on several occasions and always walked away. Today, I'd had enough!

He stared at me for a second, and then slowly reached his hand across his body into his jacket as though reaching for a gun at the cross-draw position, saying - "I will shove this dessert eagle up your...". I quickly cleared my jacket and got a firing grip on my glock 23, but didn't draw. I'm sure he saw the rear of the slide and knew that he had just bluffed his way into a bad situation. If he had moved that hand even slightly from inside his jacket, that would have been my signal to draw and shoot. I think my reaction surprised him, and after a few seconds he slowly backed away to the buildings door, spouting expletives as he did, and went in.

My hand didn't leave the grip until that door closed behind him and he went up the stairs.

 

[Mike SC Hunter]

Happened into a neighbor on a property line one day in the woods(property line was an old dry ditch. He had mean german shepard with him. As we were talking that dog "nutted up" ...Ears back, showing teeth and growling. The owner ignored this. Then the dog started down into the ditch toward me. I drew my 6" python from the small of my back and held it by my side. I said you'd better call your dog back. He did and got him under control. we talked on a bit then left. He never mentioned my gun.......He saw it when I drew it as were only about 15 feet apart and I kept it in my hand by my side after drawing it until he left.....He never acknowledged it...I think dawned on him that if that sheppard had come up out of the ditch I was going to light him up......

 

[Enigma]

So, what are everyone's state laws on a CCW/LTC person drawing/brandishing/etc. on a domestic dog?

While I'm not certain about a dog, Arizona does allow 'defensive display' of a concealed weapon. IIRC from the class, that would probably involve what the member posted about with the Rottweiler - holding the pistol alongside the leg. Arizona is also a 'stand your ground' state.

I did have to chamber a round in a Winchester M1200 shotgun once, in order to dissuade some less-than-reputable looking gentlemen in Korea. I was watching our shop van (carrying weapons) at a highway rest stop while my driver took a bathroom break. These two rocket scientists decided that we were doubtless transporting gold, and figured that I didn't have any ammo anyway. I ordered them repeatedly to stop (in Korean), and they ignored me, while advancing towards the truck with a pry bar in hand. I chambered a round of #00 buckshot, pausing for effect with the round visible in the ejection port. They decided that they had urgent business elsewhere, and head there fast!

 

[kthom]

You guys brought a memory to my mind. As a rookie city policeman way back in the 60's, I found an open door in the alley that led into a long narrow hallway that went the length of the building containing five offices. Each office had a back door that opened into the hallway. There were about three other doors in the hallway that led to a mop/cleaning closet and a couple of storage closets. This was my first time down this hallway, so I learned this information after the fact. Only two of us on duty in the wee hours of the morning, and the other guy was tied up on another call. So I proceeded on my own!

Had a decent flashlight so I eased into the hallway and proceeded downstream, stopping to test each doorway. The first three were locked.
the fourth was not. So, I got my flashlight into position above my head, gently opened the door and pushed it open away from me. Nothing happened. I stepped into the doorway and immediately saw a guy standing inside. I drew my revolver at the same time that guy drew his. Took a long second before I realized the guy I was looking at had a uniform cap on his head and a badge reflecting light back at me from his chest. I also realized that the guy looked a lot like me!!!! Then I saw the full length mirror the cleaning lady had mounted on the back wall of the closet next to the sink. The guy I saw draw on me was a reflection of myself! I had considerable pressure on the trigger, which I then relaxed. Took me a good bit to begin breathing again and regain my composure to continue the search down the rest of the hall way.

The offices were are locked up tight, and the other two closets had no one in them. Needless to say, my pucker string had all the slack drawn from it!!! Everything checked out good, so I returned to my howl car and sat down to report the same. Dispatcher said my voice sounded like someone else. My mouth was bone dry and my heart rate was still off the scale high. My cohort checked in off his call about then and asked me if I was ready for coffee. I was!! Told him all about it over coffee and he found it very amusing! He was not a rookie but had about three years on the job. Neither of us had anything at all but on the job training in those years. I got a lot of it that night since I learned a LOT from the experience. It's a lot funnier now than it was then!

 

[Lightfoot4]

I've told this story before...

Some years ago I was hanging Christmas lights on my front porch one night. Had my S&W 915 in a holster on my hip, but pretty much concealed given the heavy clothing due to it being in December and at night. I thought I heard the leaves in the front yard, under a tree, rustle. I stared into the inky blackness, but couldn't see anything given it was dark out there, and the porch light pretty much robbed me of my night vision. I chalked it up to wind and continued hanging the lights. Then I heard the rustle of leaves again. Turning, I saw nothing, but my spidy senses were tingling so I reached down and popped the safety off my firearm in a deliberate manner as to make it as loud and obvious as possible. Then the person who was standing under the tree watching me from the darkness made a hasty retreat out of my yard.

 

[gfors]

I was tending bar in Milwaukee, back in the mid-eighties, when a punk with a bloody chef's knife came behind the bar. I pulled my .38 and put the front blade right between his eyes. He was less than 10 feet away, at this point. I told him "If you take one more step; you're a dead man. Now put down the knife." He dropped the knife, and lived another day. Meanwhile, my boss hearing the commotion, came out from his back office. He thought I should've shot the guy, without giving him a warning, and that I would have been totally justified. I'm just glad that I didn't have to pull the trigger.

 

[Steve K]

Many of the replies show the effect of presenting a firearm and thus avoiding a deadly confrontation. However, some states view those actions as brandishing a firearm which carry a penalty. With that in mind I think of the adage " Better to be judged by twelve than carried by six". Be careful when involved in a confrontation but don't let your guard down.

 

[Mule Packer]

I guess I've been pretty lucky. Never had to draw, thus far (knock on wood).

But I did have a situation where the sight of my Ruger Blackhawk .45 Colt caused an immediate evaporation of a pretty rough, seedy-looking character way back in the mountains. I can't remember, but I may have shared this before. If so, forgive me. Heck, I mean, nowadays, I have a tough time remembering what I had for breakfast, much less what stories I've shared!

Anyway, I was spot-camping three guys one summer back in the Marble Mountain Wilderness Area of Northern California. For those who are unfamiliar with the term "spot-camping," it's when a packer will take his pack string and haul equipment, food, and supplies into an area for a group of individuals, drop it off, and then come back in a week or so and haul their gear out for them. That way, all they have to carry on their backs is a light day pack with a few snacks, water bottle, and maybe some personal items.

The folks I was packing for were taking a different route than I was to the designated camp area back in one of the wilderness lakes. They were hiking in from the opposite side of the wilderness area and had hauled all of their gear over to my place a few days before the big trip so I could weigh it, sort it out, and load it into the pack boxes. We were supposed to meet at this particular lake at around 2:00 in the afternoon. I had been in the saddle for a good six or seven hours when I arrived at the previously agreed upon spot a little before two and found that they hadn't arrived yet.

These three guys had a lot of gear. As I was loading the pack boxes a couple days before, I could readily see that they were planning on having a heckuva good time during the week they were in the mountains. They had an inflatable raft, fishing gear, and enough booze to make them almost forget the good time they were going to be having.

They had chosen a place that was way off the beaten path, and even though you don't normally see a lot of people in that part of the wilderness area, I hadn't seen a single soul the whole time I had been in the saddle.

I unpacked the mules, strung up a high line, and proceeded to arrange the pack boxes so things were readily available to my clients when they arrived.

All of the sudden, my little stock dog that went with me on every trip, let out a soft growl. I turned around and saw a pretty rough-looking character come slithering out of the woods...no pack...just a dirty, grimy, greasy-looking fellow who, upon looking at him closer, seemed to be a "half bubble off plumb."

In a gravelly voice, he growled, "Yuh got any whiskey?" Those were his first words.

I told him I didn't. Then he wanted to know what was in the packs. Told him I didn't know...I was just the packer spot-camping a bunch of clients. All this time, by the way, the .45 Colt that I carried on my hip on almost every pack trip for the past thirty years, was turned away from him while I was busy arranging the pack boxes.

I managed to get out of him, however, that he'd been living back in the wilderness area for a few months now. A few months??? I had to admit, he sure looked it. When I asked him where he was camped, he just waved his arm and mumbled, "Aw, back there someplace."

Anyway, he started walking closer, eyeing the packs when I happened to nonchalantly turn sideways, exposing the .45 on my hip.

Shazzam!! It was almost like magic! I heard him mumbling something about, "Uh, I gotta go now," as he beat a hasty retreat through the bushes.

I stayed with the gear until the hikers arrived about three hours later. They hadn't realized just how long it was going to take them to get back in there. By that time, it was too late for me to make the trip out. Fortunately, I always packed a sleeping bag in those situations, along with a little food for my dog and some grain for my saddle horse and pack mules, just in case I had to spend the night.

I told the hikers about the "visitor" and they were grateful that one of them had packed a handgun. Have to admit, he was an interesting fellow.

Don't know if anything would've happened. Probably not, but it was amazing to see how fast that guy retreated when he saw that old revolver of mine.

 

[Watchdog]

Years ago I had a mountain cabin and would walk my 2 dogs on a back country road. It was a windy road and a truck had passed me with a huge Rottweiler in the back. They headed around the curve out of sight and I did not see them. So I assumed they kept going.

As I came back around the curve they were stopped in the middle of the road. One guy was on each side of the dog getting ready to release it. Obviously to fight my dogs.

And you know they were going to release the dog to fight or attack your dogs because...?

No chance that you and your dogs were the last thing on their mind? No chance they just wanted to let the dog out to run a little?

Tell me, will I win the Powerball jackpot this week?

 

[Rustyt1953]

Only once. In 2000 I was close to closing the shop as it was almost 2100hrs. As I mostly wore cargo shorts, I would shove a pistol in my pocket after opening and then go about my day.

As I was ringing up the last customer, two hoodies came in. One stayed close to the door while the other moved to one of the stomp box display cases and kept nervously glancing my way.

My spidey sense was tingling. The one by the front held the door for the exiting customer. I really can't explain why, but I slid my hand into my pocket and wrapped it around my Bersa Thunder 380.

Hoodie #2 turned, faced me and moved his left hand down and began to pull up his shirt. I didn't wait. I leveled my gun at his head and they both bolted for the door.

The police found them later and hopefully they are still in the system.

In truth, it wasn't training, weapons skill or bravery that got me through that. After years of reliving it, I am convinced that I was scared enough and mad enough to fight back.

Not a day goes by that I don't thank God, Almighty that I lived and didn't have to carry the thought of killing them with me.

In the past, there have been comments, on this forum, that situational awareness, scanning the horizon and watching your six have a whiff of paranoia. All I know is that I believe they saved me from harm that night.

 

[Old Arkansawyer]

Twice, once with 3 Hispanics in Florida trying to pull me from my car and I cocked the hammer GI Colt .45 and held it to the first guys nose. This was late a night and his 2 amigos did not see the pistol. They did a 3 stooges routine where the first guy is in reverse while the other 2 are still trying to come get me, first guy finally told them in Spanish and all then ran and hid behind a parked car. I bought the .45 from a marine friend, no numbers matched, had extra barrels, slides, mags, total cost $40 American dollars.
The other time I was on my property and held my .38 super at my side.

 

[mbok]

Throughout the 1970s I worked as a newspaper reporter covering crime and spent just about every night on the street, often in less savory areas. This was well before the legal CCW era but police commonly issued what was sometimes called a "wink and nod" permit. I was advised to carry, in one case by a grizzled detective sergeant who said "If I go down and you are around I want someone to put the a-hole down."

I recall several instances where I put my hand on the butt and pulled back my coat, but one comes to mind. Some drunks in a pickup pulled beside me at a stoplight and started yelling how they were going to kick my various anatomical regions. I thought they were pretty dumb since I was driving a neutral colored Plymouth with radio antennae, often mistaken for an unmarked police car. But they decided to pile out and approach the passenger side. The light was red and there were a couple of cars in front and one behind and my exit was blocked so I pulled my four inch Colt Python from my slide holster and just angled it into view pointing at the roof of my car. The drunks fell all over each other piling back into that truck and laid rubber outbound.

Later I heard a patrol officer radio that he was stopping a possible DUI and I drove over that way and sure enough it was the drunk truck. They were all spread-eagled around the bed and I parked and walked over and asked if they remembered meeting me back up the road aways. They said nope, no memory of that. I waved to them as they were loaded into three patrol cars for the trip downtown.

 

[Donn]

Closest I've ever come was when I was driving a wheelchair van. We had customers in Detroit, so I made sure I carried whenever I went down there. One cold, rainy, early spring morning, I pulled up to a customer's house, climbed out of the van. A woman in a car across the street rolled down the window, said "Be careful, there's a pit bull on the other side of your truck." I unsnapped my jacket. Then she said, "Here it comes!" I had my hand on the grip of my M&P 9c, ready to draw. About this time, the dog appeared. He had a pitiful look that said, "I won't hurt you. Please take me somewhere warm and dry." I came this close, (index finger and thumb barely apart), to taking him home, but he had a collar on, he belonged to someone. So, that was that. Haven't come close since.

 

[Inusuit]

I am very grateful that I while I carry a handgun every time I have clothes on, I have never drawn it nor felt threatened enough to put my hand on it.

Well, actually if I'm at home and the doorbell rings when I'm not expecting anyone at our rural property, my KelTec PF9 or whatever is handy is in hand or in my pocket before I check the viewer in the front door. So far it's always been the UPS guy. Probably upset because he's delivering 1000 rounds of ammunition.

 

[oysterer]

He was crippled and I kind of adopted him and his wife. He would come out on his back porch and smoke a pipe (his wife wouldn't let him smoke in the house) and the aroma would come in the window so I'd know he was out there.

Good Deed and I like it!

 

[andyo5]

Two episodes, both involving two dogs. Around 1979, I faced down two feral dogs who were stalking me in the brush while I was bird hunting. As they growled and crept closer, I went onto one knee and pointed my shotgun at the larger dog. They both stopped, and looked at each other. They then did an about face and trotted away.
The second time, my neighbor's two large dogs had a habit of watching me as I mowed the grass in my backyard. These two dogs had most of the surrounding neighbors terrified. As I got within eight feet of the fence, they would suddenly charge the fence snarling and snapping. One of them would jump up and snap at me over the fence. I tried to talk to the neighbors about controlling their dogs, with predictable results. They told me I was a dog hater and that I should be a better neighbor. The next time I mowed the lawn, I carried my Ruger .22 Target in a holster on my hip. It was big, and must have looked like a cannon from a distance. As the moment of truth arrived and I got within 8 feet of the fence, I saw the neighbors' back door fly open and heard a whistle. The dogs both stopped dead in their tracks and made a bee line into the house.
Unfortunately, alot of dog owners are like this.

 

[Protected One]

Two episodes, both involving two dogs. Around 1979, I faced down two feral dogs who were stalking me in the brush while I was bird hunting. As they growled and crept closer, I went onto one knee and pointed my shotgun at the larger dog. The both stopped, and looked at each other. They then did an about face and trotted away.
The second time, my neighbor's two large dogs had a habit of watching me as I mowed the grass in my backyard. These two dogs had most of the surrounding neighbors terrified. As I got within eight feet of the fence, they would suddenly charge the fence snarling and snapping. One of them would jump up and snap at me over the fence. I tried to talk to the neighbors about controlling their dogs, with predictable results. They told me I was a dog hater and that I should be a better neighbor. The next time I mowed the lawn, I carried my Ruger .22 Target in a holster on my hip. It was big, and must have looked like a cannon from a distance. As the moment of truth arrived and I got within 8 feet of the fence, I saw the neighbors' back door fly open and heard a whistle. The dogs both stopped dead in their tracks and made a bee line into the house.
Unfortunately, alot of dog owners are like this.

You ruined his entertainment.

 

[Bill In Texas]

Thankfully, I've not had an experience where pulling or showing my gun was necessary. That being said, I'm learning a great deal from all of your experiences. Please keep them coming!

 

[PPS1980]

My daughter was attacked by a pitbull when she was 4 years old and in our fenced in back yard. By the time I got there with my 442 the dog had already retreated and I was too focused on my daughter to do anything else. She's a brave girl and I needed to get her to the hospital.

Neighbor brought the dog back after it was released from animal control - the closest I've ever come to drawing but didn't was when I saw it. Learned from that episode that lawyers aren't always worthless.

 

[ne ne seller]

Here's my story. My buddy and I were coming back from our trap shooting league about dark and see two bodies face down in the mow line of the rural highway we were on. We go up to the next mile line and my buddy who is a department of roads employee says I have to check it out for work. I tell him fine and lets go see what's up. While he's getting turned around and heading back to the spot I thumbed open my O/U shotgun I shoot trap with and slide two in. I turned the shotgun on my lap with my thumb on the trigger and my other hand holding the barrels just below the open window. As we roll up to the bodies the closest one jumps up and bull rushes my door and sticks his head in the window. You can imagine his surprise as his nose is now mashed into the end of the gun. He slowly backed away and my buddy asked him what the hell he was doing laying in the mow line. His lame answer was that they were just resting. I told him his little move just about got him permanently rested up. We went on back to town and told the cops. Don't know what happened after that but I think he knew he got lucky he didn't jerk open that pickup door