The Reformed Democrat By Abner Miranda
I am a reformed Democrat! Yeah, I thought that might get your attention.
I grew up in a home with two confused Dems: Mom & Dad. I say confused because my folks have always spewed the Democrat’s agenda which is a running litany of paradoxical musings that contradict the very Bible they claim to follow. It wasn’t until well into adulthood that I began listening to my conscience and realizing that most of the ignorance spewed by my folks was just garbage that most minorities espouse because their parents just did it that way, too.
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, “Minority? I thought Abner was a white dude.” Well, yeah, that’s because I am a white dude! Puerto Rico has dark and light skinned people just like every other country in the world. I’m a Caucasian Puerto Rican, wrap your mind around that one.
We (Dad, Mom, and my two older brothers) moved to America in 1974 when I was a toddler. Right away, mom and dad worked at assimilating with American culture. We mastered English by reading the Readers Digest, out loud, and watching American TV. We attended American Schools, and Churches. My brothers and I all married American women, much to the chagrin of my mother. What did she expect? You become that which you behold, and we beheld America.
Having been born in Puerto Rico blessed me with U.S. citizenship due to the fact that PR is a commonwealth of the U.S.. Even still, I’ve always felt like an immigrant to our great nation. At every stage in my life there's always been some racist jerk who’s sought to put me in the box with every illegal immigrant he or she has ever run across. It’s been rough. When I was 21 I was threatened by my girlfriend’s father, with his gun, when he found out I was, in his words “a filthy hispanic.” I know what armed racism looks like, and it’s not something you want to experience.
Murder vs. Kill
I grew up in a home where guns were not welcome nor understood. I recall once speaking with my mother’s uncle when I was about 16 years old. He was a pastor and a very learned man. One day he asked me what I wanted to be in life. I answered that I wanted to be a soldier or police officer. In my heart, I wondered if this was wrong because my parents had drilled into me “guns are only for criminals.” My retort to my parents was “then what about police officers and soldiers?” They would brush off my questions and ignore me or say something totally vapid that had no basis in reality.
That day in talking with my great uncle he liberated me with truth, straight from the word of God. “Young man, the ten commandments, in it’s original text, doesn’t read, thou shalt not kill, it’s thou shalt not murder.” Those two words are as far from one another as any ever could be.
I think my folks figured out early on that I was going to end up in uniform at some point. There was nothing they could do to keep me from becoming what I was meant to be, but they tried. There’s a saying that goes “what you will be, you are now becoming.” What that means is that your character is a lifelong journey. Scientists and sociologist tell us that by a very young age our character is pretty much set. I don't buy that for one second. I was destined to be a protector and didn’t develop the courage to overcome confrontational fear until well into adulthood.
Please understand that my love of firearms isn’t because they’re cool. It’s because I grew up identifying them as symbols of freedom through those men I admired for their roles of bravery in American culture. To me, guns have always meant protection. I’ve spent my adult life training extensively in the complexities of firearms and tactics. The truth of firearms is that they are a tool that good people use to impose the rule of moral law upon those who would do evil. That’s it! Our founding fathers wrote the constitution using very simple language so that it would never have to be “interpreted.”
The Salient Event
I recall one summer in Puerto Rico when in the course of one event I witnessed the societal fear of criminals with guns, and the triumph of good guys with guns. I was very young, and we were visiting my Aunt and Uncle at their high rise apartment. After lunch we were in the living room, suddenly gunfire broke out in the playground area four stories below. My Uncle told us all to sit on the floor. As surreal as the memory is, everyone continued talking as though what was going on was perfectly normal, and would eventually pass. Probably because it was normal to them.
After a minute or two the men in the room crept over to the windows to see how far along, todays gunfight was progressing. I joined them by escaping my mother’s grasping fingers. What I saw has been deeply ingrained in me ever since. I saw young men jumping over the playground equipment and concrete picnic tables. They were shooting wildly at one another while screaming curses. This barrage went on for several minutes without anyone daring to challenge them from above. Think about what it means for a populous that holds the “high- ground” to not want to return fire to take control of their own community. One word comes to mind, subjugated!
When the police showed up, both gangs took off at full speed, in the same direction, running as one body, away from the police.
That whole event has always been one that I've had difficulty in quantifying. As an adult, I now understand what it was I saw that day. The two gangs went at each other, in broad daylight, on a children’s playground, because terror is their religion. Doing it in front of the eyes of the subjects they controlled was crucial to them. Fear is a very powerful weapon. Likewise, as soon as the cops showed up, the gangs both ran off in the same direction because the thugs feared the police more than they feared each other.
You Want a What?
Let’s jump ahead to a few years ago. Mom and Dad are retired now and have built a home in rural TN. One day we went over to visit, dad took me aside and asked “can you help me get a... rifle?” I remember thinking “who are you, and what have you done with my dad?” You want a what? Oh yeah, I was going to exploit this moment to its fullest. “Why do you think you need a rifle dad?” I asked with a very calm voice that I hoped belied the smirk that was forming on my face. Apparently my smirk had gotten out of control because dad smiled back at me and said "we live pretty far out here and I think it would be a good idea to have one around.”
I love my dad, and as hard as it was to swallow a lifetime of being marginalized by my family for being pro-gun I chose to be the bigger man. I suggested a shotgun instead of a rifle since it was far more versatile and fit his needs better. As we parted ways that evening I pointed out how interesting it was that living out on their own had now changed their views about guns.
In closing, I want to share with something you that occurred a few months ago that was the catalyst for this article. My oldest brother, who’s always been staunchly anti-gun, contacted me to buy a pistol. Mind you this is the same man who once said to me “I can’t wait for them to outlaw all the guns.”
So imagine my surprise when he said he wanted to buy a Glock. Just like with my dad, several years prior, I asked my brother to expound on his request. It seems that some unsavory folks were lurking about his neighborhood and he felt that having a gun in the house would be a wise idea. His exact words were “I just want the gun in my home.” As if just having it there would somehow install guarding Cherubim, with flaming swords, at his front door.
To me it’s a natural progression to buy a gun then learn how to use it. Apparently I’m just weird that way because my brother’s intention was to, in his words, “lock this thing in my safe and never have to touch it again.” My first thought was “Really!?” I was amazed but, somehow, not surprised. Ignorance is bliss!
Members of my own family voted Obama into office, twice! Now they don’t like the “Change” they’ve gotten, and are looking to buy guns to protect themselves from the very “Change” they’ve created. The worst part is that if someone breaks into my brother’s house, he expects to be able to defend his family with skill sets that he somehow believes will just materialize.
The probable outcome is that the bad guy will probably get a hold of the weapon and murder my brother and his family with it. This will then turn them all into just one more dumb statistic which will then be used against us as responsible gun owners. The crowning pinnacle of this crap pile will be that he bought the gun legally through an FFL. Let’s remember what happened to the FFL in Orlando who legally...LEGALLY sold a firearm that got used in a high-profile crime. Now it seems that you can follow all the rules and still find yourself in the crosshairs of tyranny.
The only saving grace is knowing that all of this is in God’s hands. As always, God bless you all, get those guns out and practice. Have a good one!
~Abner Miranda is a former Police Officer, an FBI trained Hostage Negotiator, a First Responder, and Spanish Interpreter. He is currently a Firearms Instructor, an Armorer, and a regular contributor to our industry of both written and digital media. You can see more of Abner’s work on his YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/user/daddycop3