U.S. Gun Ownership: In Decline?

[Uncle Sparky]

So, the current 'end times' is driving up gun ownership?

[The Mad Monk]

Entirely possible; it would also explain a drop in honest reporting.

Also note that guns are very durable, and can stay in a family for generations. Also, individual-to-individual sales are NOT covered by the registry.

[kentonio]

Because there is a gulf between the laws of the coasts and the interior.

I'm still looking forward to hearing why the laws on the coast are 'Draconian'.

[MrFun]

Not too long ago, Iowa had enacted a new law relaxing restrictions on carrying concealed hand guns. Gun ownership has increased - at least, in the county that I live in.

[The Mad Monk]

I'm still looking forward to hearing why the laws on the coast are 'Draconian'.

Relative to the 2nd Amendment, or to the Eurocommie Manifesto?

[kentonio]

Relative to the 2nd Amendment, or to the Eurocommie Manifesto?

I was going with the 'basic humanity' philosophy, but whatever works. Incidentally when the 2nd amendment guaranteed the right to bear arms, it never actually stipulated WHICH arms did it?

[The Mad Monk]

So naturally, ALL of them!

[Jon Miller]

I demand the right to bear killdozers

JM

[giblets]

I was going with the 'basic humanity' philosophy, but whatever works. Incidentally when the 2nd amendment guaranteed the right to bear arms, it never actually stipulated WHICH arms did it?

Obviously when the Founders (PBUT) wrote it they were thinking about muskets, so everyone has the right to own a musket.

[The Mad Monk]

Down the Rabbit Hole Of the State's Gun Law
By PAUL ZIELBAUER
Published: July 14, 2002Sign In to E-Mail

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''LET'S talk about the use of deadly force,'' Lenny Smittner Jr., the N.R.A.-certified instructor, said, leaning on a cinder-block wall pocked with 22-caliber bullet holes. ''You're looking to maim or kill, there's no good way to say it.''

It was well before 9 a.m. on a groggy November morning, and Lenny suddenly had our full attention. Six of us -- strangers ranging in age from college undergraduate to gray-haired retiree -- had gathered in a musty backroom at the Blue Trail Range in Wallingford to learn how to safely handle a gun, not maim or kill.

But in a way I had no choice. If you wanted to own a gun in Connecticut, like I did, you had to start the process by passing a safety class certified by the National Rifle Association.

Actually, I didn't want to own a gun as much as I wanted to figure out how ordinary, law-minding Nutmeggers went about getting one -- legally. Did you need to have a reason to own one? Is there a limit to how many you can own? Could you carry it on your belt?

My curiosity peaked two years ago, after writing a few articles about gun control. I had listened to the pro- and anti-gun lobbies, each offering equally unconvincing arguments for why a handgun was either hideous or helpful, American or un-American, an evil machine or an inalienable right.

The only way to have a truly informed opinion about guns, it seemed, was to get to know one, and the laws that govern its use, firsthand.

My odyssey in search of a handgun permit played out in late 2000 and into the spring of 2001. I quickly learned that the state application process is often governed unfairly, and illegally, in the cities and towns where it begins.

Since my five-month ordeal, handguns have become vastly more popular in Connecticut, primarily in response to last year's terrorist attacks.

The State Police issued 3,862 new handgun permits in the first six months of this year, for instance, more than double the amount in the first half of 2001. (Shotguns and rifles do not require permits to buy or carry.) More registered gun owners are also renewing their pistol permits since Sept. 11.

''9/11 definitely changed the way Americans live,'' said State Police Lt. Robert C. Kiehm, who administers Connecticut's handgun permit process.

Connecticut law designates local police departments, or first selectmen's offices in towns without a police force, as the place where residents must first submit a gun-permit application before it is considered by the State Police.

Because local police officials tend to favor fewer guns in the community rather than more, they often amend the state's two-page application with extra forms, rules and requirements of their own. The extra paperwork makes the process more intimidating and tends to weed out the unknowing or less persistent. And, according to the State Board of Firearms Permit Examiners, it is also against the spirit and letter of state law.

My application was rejected, in January 2000, in a letter signed by Chief Melvin H. Wearing of New Haven, because it did not contain three letters of reference that are not required by state law.

The green state application, in fact, succinctly asks only for an applicant's name, address, phone number, date and place of birth, weight and height, Social Security and driver's license numbers and employer's name and phone number. It also asks for proof of completion of a gun-safety course and six Yes/No questions about the applicant's medical and criminal history, to eliminate anyone with mental illness or a prison record from the process. And that's all.

In New Haven, however, the state form is stuffed with extra forms. When I applied in November 2000, these forms demanded a copy of a birth certificate or green card and ''paperwork indicating your present address.''

Another form asked for my notarized signature allowing the police department to look into my medical, psychiatric and employment records, credit history and school records, as well as any criminal, misdemeanor or traffic violations in my past.

I was never a gun person. Aside from the compressed-air variety, I had never fired one and did not believe I needed one to feel safe. But now that I had been rejected, I felt aggrieved. Darn it, I wanted, and deserved, a gun permit.

I submitted my application without signing the extra forms, and within weeks received a letter that the police had rejected it. Two weeks later I appealed the decision to the Board of Firearms Permit Examiners, which arbitrates disputes over the law.

Philip Dukes, the board's chairman, said changes the Legislature made to the permit process last year that gave State Police more control has cut down on the number of illegitimate rejections by local authorities.

New Haven, however, is still well-known for larding applications with its own rules. In Middletown, the police demand three letters of reference from other Middletown residents only. And in Hamden, one former police chief was known to reject all applicants outright.

''There is no power that I have that prevents the cities and towns from doing these things,'' Mr. Dukes said in an interview last week. ''They could ask you to do jumping jacks as a basis for granting your permit.''

The board does overrule, and sometimes reprimand, local officials, he added, but ''there are only so many times that we can go through the process and tell them that they can't do that.''

In a country where state gun-permit laws vary enormously, Connecticut, despite problems at the local level, has a reputation for running one of the most organized, efficient and fair handgun-permit systems in the nation.

This is a ''shall issue'' state, meaning that state law recognizes citizens' inherent rights to a pistol permit, no reason necessary, provided they meet certain legal standards. In ''may-issue'' states, like New York and New Jersey, the law does not recognize an individual right to own handguns; residents must prove they deserve or need one.

The state application procedure changed on Oct. 1, 2001, after my permit process was complete.

The process still begins with the local police chief or first selectman, who screen applications and submit the applicant's fingerprints to the FBI. If approved, the applicant is given a temporary 60-day state permit.. But whereas the old process left locally rejected applicants no alternative but to appeal to the state board, last year's changes require local officials to pass on an application, rejected or approved, to the State Police firearms unit in Middletown. There, it is run through national crime databases and reviewed by specialists who generally do not tolerate rejections from local police officials who added their own requirements to the process.

When the state review is complete, the applicant is either given a five-year permit or rejected, with the right to appeal to the Board of Firearms Permit Examiners and, thereafter, to State Superior Court.

The total cost currently is $55, but can change slightly, depending on how much the Federal Bureau of Investigation charges for its services.

In the Blue Trail Range's bathroom, the man next to me removed his ear protectors and launched into how his new gun was ''kicking like a mule.''

My gun-safety class had taken a short break, and now I found myself entering a conversation about firearms with a guy who looked as if he'd been born clutching an ammunition belt.

''What are you shooting?'' I asked ruggedly.

''.340 Weatherby magnum,'' he exhaled. Uable to respond intelligently, I simply blurted, ''Have fun with the Weatherby, sounds like a fun gun,'' and left. Months later, I discovered that a .340 Weatherby magnum is not a gun, but a three-inch-long Elk cartridge.

''If you don't know how to use your gun,'' said Lenny, back in the classroom, ''you shouldn't have it.''

Around 9:30 a.m., as the range outside begins to fill up with target shooters and their spectacularly loud guns, Lenny flipped on a gun-safety videotape from the mid-1970's. He then passed around a few handguns, open and empty, for the six of us to inspect. Handguns, I noted, were heavier than they looked.

''A lot of people look at the N.R.A. as a troublesome organization that wants to arm everyone in the country,'' said Lenny, a former Air Force aircraft instrument mechanic and retired SNET warehouse worker whose father was a Winchester factory worker.

''Not so. If it wasn't for their lobbying,'' he went on, holding up a finger, ''we wouldn't be here today.''

Each of us in the class seemed to be there for a different reason.

Krishan Soni, a friendly economics and biology major at Yale University at the time, said he already owned a rifle and intended to get a handgun permit. Besides Lenny, he was the only one in the room who allowed me to take his full name. Frank and Chris, two buddies in their mid-20's told me they signed up just to find out if firing a gun was as cool as it looked. Joe, a middle-aged guy in a red flannel shirt and work boots, and Edward, an older man in glasses and sports jacket, declined to talk to me.

By the end of the five-hour class, we had learned the do's and don'ts of handgun safety, the four fundamentals of aiming -- sight alignment, breath control, trigger position and follow through -- and gotten an instructive lecture on Connecticut gun laws from Arthur C. Carr, a former member of the All-Army pistol team who sits on the state firearms board to which I would later file my appeal.

It was Mr. Carr who warned the class that many police departments may improperly lard the state permit application with requests for things like letters of reference (''They're utterly foolish,'' he said) and permission to review medical and employment history (''a gross violation of your rights to privacy'').

''Some issuing authorities,'' he concluded, as gun blasts outside made it hard to hear, ''just don't like issuing permits.''

The day ended out on the outdoor range, where each of us got to fire three revolvers -- a .44 magnum, the stainless steel hand cannon of Dirty Harry fame, as well as a used .357 and its weaker cousin, the .38 Special -- and two clip-loaded semiautomatic pistols -- a clunky .45 caliber that roared when fired, and a milder 9 millimeter, which is popular with many police departments.

Afterward, I quizzed my classmates about which firearm they most liked.

Christian, the Yale student, liked the semiautomatics more than the revolvers. Joe, in the red flannel shirt, was smitten by the .45. ''I liked how it feels in my hand,'' he said. Frank and Chris were hugely impressed by the .44 magnum's brute force -- its bullets were like Lincoln Logs -- but ''the 9 millimeter is much more of a cool gun,'' Frank said.

During target practice, Edward, seemed magnetically attached to the silvery .44, which he handled sloppily. The rest of us instinctively back away whenever he took aim.

On April 12, 2001, in a small room on the second floor of State Police headquarters, the six-member Board of Firearms Permit Examiners took up case 092-01. My appeal of New Haven's rejection of my gun permit application was finally getting its day in court.

The board, which included a municipal police chief, a lawyer, a state trooper and Mr. Carr -- gave two New Haven Police detectives 20 minutes to present their reasons for rejecting me. Det. Frank Murphy did all the talking.

''Our reason for the refusal is strictly based on Mr. Zielbauer's adamant and -- I'm trying to think of the right adjective that I want to use -- refusal to provide letters of reference,'' he told the board.

Noting that I had lived in Connecticut for only 14 months, he added, ''We conducted a quasi-background investigation as best we were able to and could not locate anybody that professed any sort of knowledge of Mr. Zielbauer.''

He also lamented my unwillingness ''to provide us with materials that helped us in assessing his background and his character and his suitability.'' But, perhaps sensing his own wobbly legal argument, he admitted, ''Is he statutorily required to do so by you people? No.''

The board seemed dubious. One member, John S. Karangekis, the Weathersfield police chief, asked Detective Murphy if he had bothered to call my employer, which is listed on the application, or look up my previous addresses in New York.

''No,'' the detective said.

Later, after I'd presented my side of the story, Peter Kuck, the board's secretary, grilled Detective Murphy.

''What you're telling this board is that the sole reason you rejected this applicant is because he wouldn't furnish you with three letters of reference, is that correct?'' Mr. Kuck asked. ''That's the sole reason?''

Yes, the detective said. ''This has not been an issue before today,'' Detective Murphy said. ''I imagine it will be an issue after today.''

He was right, sort of: Since my hearing, the department eliminated letters of reference from its list of extraordinary requirements (though its Web page instructions still ask for them), but still demands to review an applicant's medical, employment and credit history.

Detective Murphy referred calls about the police department's application process to a spokesman for Chief Wearing, who declined to comment. But Mr. Duke, the board chairman, said departments like New Haven's add extra rules because of concern ''that somebody who causes trouble is going to walk away with a permit.''

Fifteen days after my hearing, I received a copy of a letter Mr. Kuck sent to Chief Wearing in New Haven informing him that the board had voted unanimously to order him to issue me a permit. On May 1, 2001, I had a license to carry a handgun in Connecticut.

That summer, I bought a Sig Sauer .380 semiautomatic pistol from Hoffman's Gun Center (''Guns for the good guys'') in Newington, a medium-sized handgun that won't kill a bear, but has enough power to punch through a cardboard target at 25 yards.

I still don't know which side of the gun debate is right, though as a gun owner I have more respect for each side's arguments. Part of me agrees with the anti-gun people who say I will probably never need to use my gun and, therefore, why bother? But I also understand, firsthand, that the great majority of legal gun owners are responsible people who treat their weapons with respect and care, and why punish them for following the law?

I suppose my Sig Sauer was not an answer I'd hoped for, but I guess I'm a little like Joe in the red flannel shirt: I like how it feels in my hand.

http://www.nytimes.com/2002/07/14/nyregion/down-the-rabbit-hole-of-the-state-s-gun-law.html?pagewanted=all&src=pm

[Al B. Sure!]

Obviously when the Founders (PBUT) wrote it they were thinking about muskets, so everyone has the right to own a musket.

Rifles were used by sharpshooters as early as the Seven Years War. Mid-18th century German Jaegers were also riflemen.

[The Mad Monk]

The fee to apply in NYC is over $400, and is not refunded if they deny you the permit.

NYC Permit Forms

NYC Permit FAQ

Your application may be disapproved for any of the following reasons:

A history of arrest or conviction, depending upon the severity of the charges and the amount of time that has elapsed since your last arrest or conviction.
Your failure to disclose your full criminal history, including sealed arrests, on your application;
A history of domestic violence incidents;
A history of driving under the influence of alcohol or drugs (DUI, DWI, DWAI);
Your failure to cooperate with the investigation of your application;
A poor DMV history, including moving violations, failure to appear and answer summonses or failure to pay fines.

This list is not exclusive. If your investigation results in a determination that you lack character and fitness for a license or permit, your application will be denied.

Do I have to disclose my arrest history if the charges against me were dismissed and sealed?

Yes, New York State Criminal Procedure Law §160.50 (1)(d)(iii) grants the License Division authority to obtain the sealed criminal records of any person who has applied for a license to possess guns. License Division rules require all applicants to disclose their arrest history and submit a Certificate of Disposition showing the offense and dispostion of the charges, along with a notarized statement describing the circumstances surrounding each arrest. This information must be provided even if the case was dismissed, the record sealed or the case nullified by operation of law. Failure or refusal to disclose this information will result in the disapproval of your application for a license or permit.

[The Mad Monk]

I demand the right to bear killdozers

JM

I didn't think you were benching that much.

[kentonio]

I suppose my Sig Sauer was not an answer I'd hoped for, but I guess I'm a little like Joe in the red flannel shirt: I like how it feels in my hand.

..and just like that he sums up the whole reason why Americans will never give up their guns.

[The Mad Monk]

...and why such law regimes are draconian.