A friend of mine brought a guest to our club’s skeet range. I recognized him, but I didn’t know from where. We shook hands and he introduced himself as a New York City police officer. When I said he looked familiar, he explained he was the NYPD officer who was positioned right outside the Manhattan courtroom last spring as the TV cameras waited for Donald Trump to step out each afternoon.
We all laughed at what a small world it is and we talked about the show trial in Gotham and about the weaponization of the justice system. I told the officer my grandfather spent his career walking a beat in Brooklyn as an NYPD officer and added that I appreciated the job he and so many others do every day.
He asked if I would teach him how to shoot skeet.
“Delighted to,” I said, and I soon found out he’d never shot a shotgun at clay targets before, so we started on station no. 7. He shot with my instruction until he began to hit that going-away bird. We then moved to some other stations and he began to hit a few crossing shots.
A short while later, this officer showed up at the 50-yard range attached to the club’s pistol house. I had my 12-year-old son there. My son had his Savage bolt-action .22 and was shooting paper and steel positioned at various ranges. We’d had the range to ourselves before my friend and the officer showed, so my son was treating everything downrange like a shooting gallery at a 1950s county fair.
We paused, unloaded and made the range safe so the officer could position 24x24-inch paper targets at 25 and 50 yards. When this was done, we switched off the red flashing light, I announced the range was “hot” and he took out his Glock 19.
I thought he’d now show us his comfort zone. Only he didn’t. He splattered his shots widely on the 25-yard paper target and could not hit the 50-yard target. On and on the scene went … he loaded mag after mag, and was clearly not following through with his shots. I wanted to help him, but I didn’t want to step on his ego. He did look frustrated.
As much as I respect the police, I am aware that some percentage of police officers only shoot when they need to requalify. Many don't develop and maintain the shooting skills they might need on the job. They aren’t even recreational shooters. In their defense, it is not easy—even for a cop—to shoot very often in a place like New York City.
In contrast, many armed citizens are interested in recreational shooting; in fact, part of the story of the last four or so years has been that NRA-certified instructors (anyone can find them at NRAInstructors.org) don't have a shortage of students.
And then, as this NYPD officer struggled, my son—who was enjoying the “shooting gallery” of targets downrange—carefully and unbeknownst to me put shots in each bullseye of the officer’s targets. When we closed the range again and we all went to check and change targets, the officer was briefly very excited to see the bullseyes.
But I knew what they were right away. The holes were .22 caliber, not 9 mm-sized holes.
I turned to my son and he was smiling bashfully. He had broken an unwritten rule of the range, but, then, he is only 12. The officer also looked at my son. He was clearly insulted, but, after a long-faced moment, he also broke into a grin. How could he not?
We all need range time for a lot of reasons.
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