Domestic Terrorist Attacks: One Solution

What with the latest moonbat kafuffle about arming the school teachers as a preventative measure against domestic terrorism, I thought I might as well weigh in and offend a few people.

Trigger Warning: Betsy has a hair trigger, and you best have a fine bead on your target before you put your booger hook on the bang switch.


Right after the latest terrorist attack by Nikolas Cruz, the commercial news media began their interminable squeal about gun control, and how no one is safe in their beds until all firearms, including antiques, have been collected and safely melted down.

I've come to actually hate the extreme Left.  In my mind, they truly have no conscience and are the epitome of moral turpitude.  I'm hampered in my efforts to silence them for two reasons: One, the freedom of speech is spelled out in the First Amendment, and since I'm not a moonbat I can't ignore that.  Two, wholesale premeditated murder is still against the law.  Until an exception is found, I'm bound by the law of the land.

Aside to any moonbats reading this: Terrorists aren't, by the way, bound by any of our laws.  Because if they were, we wouldn't have these problems.  Right?

A long time back, longer than I'd like to think about, a good friend of mine whom we'll call Rudy took a job with Tri-State Expedited Service, Inc., an expedited freight company in Pastureland, Ohio (but close to Millbury).  While he was working there he noted a few things, the first being that the turnover in the dispatch department was so high that no other company East of the Mississippi and North of the Mason-Dixon line could touch it.  In short, jobs in dispatch featured low pay and high abuse.  Another thing he noticed was that upper management would heap verbal abuse on middle management, who would then make life miserable for lower management, and who, not to be outdone, would debase the workers.  For their part, the workers either put up with the abuse or quit.  Many quit, one stating that she was seeking out a lawyer that specialized in labor relations.  Tri-State settled out of court.  No, I'm not kidding.  In one notable case the Director of the dispatch department, an ignorant, arrogant African-American passing as white, used to tell his employees, "I own you.  You understand?"  Eventually he got fired, but not before a lot of damage was done to the company and they had to settle out of court.  Again.

One fine day dispatch hired yet another dispatch trainee, a nice looking twenty-something that had just relocated from Texas.  Allison was a single mother of two and needed a job today, now, right now, which was the only thing Tri-State was ever any good at.  They could hire someone immediately.  So Allison went to work, worked hard, and the second week she was there a personal call came in for her.

Oh horror.  Oh rules violation.  Oh end of the fucking world.  Company policy clearly states that no personal calls ever be accepted or made at the workplace, let alone during working hours.  Allison is first in line for a standard dressing-down and public humiliation at the hands of Deeohgee Dickulation, the Wagnerian queen of dispatch.  Ignoring commands to stop (Halt! In the name of the crown!), Allison rushed out the door without a word.  It wasn't until a week or so later that Rudy found out what happened.

Allison had two small children, a boy and a girl, and was in the midst of a nasty divorce from an abusive husband in Texas.  A judge in Toledo listened to her story, looked at the police records, and granted Allison temporary custody of the kids until the divorce got settled.  At Allison's request, the judge also issued a restraining order against Allison's soon to be ex-husband, Knucklehead Smith, and his two brothers Chucklehead and Fathead.

Since both children were preschool age, they needed day care while Allison was at work.  She enrolled them in the Happy While Learning Day Care center in Toledo.  Everyone was happy about this arrangement, until one fine day Knucklehead Smith and his two buddies Chester the Molester and Swamp Thing arrived.  The trio simply walked into the day care center, and finding no resistance greater than an attractive twenty-something female who was used to dealing with moppet meltdowns, but who clearly didn't have the skill set to deal with Swamp Thing, they packed up Knucklehead's two kids and left.  To give all the preschool teachers credit, they did call 9-1-1 and report the kidnapping (or incident, as such people like to refer to these things.  They were a little incensed that they'd agreed to take the children of a mother who would ever be found within fifty yards of something like Knucklehead - I mean really!  We have standards, you know!)  To be fair, it was said that a judge in Texas listened to Knucklehead's version of the story and granted Knucklehead temporary custody until the divorce was finalized - in Sidewinder Junction, Texas.

Now imagine - you're one of five or six preschool day care workers.  You're female, you love children, you're good with them, you stand 5'3" and weigh maybe 120.  Your biggest crises is that little Jackie will succeed in sneaking off by himself (again) and flushing three rolls of toilet paper down the crapper (again) just before sweet (but not terribly bright) little Jo-Anne goes in to do her business, then has a meltdown because the damned crapper isn't working right and there is no paper left.  Again.  Today you are confronted with three Texas hillbillies that look like they come from another planet, and who kidnap two of the kids.  If you actually take a swing at one of them, you'll likely break your hand.  You demand they leave, and they ignore you.  You threaten to call 9-1-1, and they start laughing on their way out.  When the police arrive about twenty years later, you can't even remember what their car looked like, and no one got the license number.  All you know is that they were big, they had long hair and tattoos, they smelled bad, and they were scary.

What do you tell their mother?  Because she is going to have a few questions.

I can just imagine my own dear mother (now departed) in this situation.  She would have ventilated all three the second they crossed the threshold, and told the police not to bother with Code 3, the alleged perpetrators were quiescent and no longer any trouble to anyone.

This scenario, in my arrogant opinion, is why schools, day care centers, and all other vulnerable soft targets should:

A) Arm one or more instructors or staff with a pistol of their choice, and make sure they get training they need.
B) Hire a full time security staff, people who know what they're doing.
C) Have security drills of all kinds, just like fire drills.
D) Realize that security is a process, it isn't about people or things.

When you place your children in day care, in public school, on a school bus, at camp (I have a story about summer camp, and it's a doozey) or wherever, the staff of that establishment is responsible for your children's welfare.  Accidents happen, sure.  Like the time in kiddie-garten when little Mad Jack's pal Freddie decided to see if the contents of the wastebasket in the boy's room was flammable, and it was, so we all had a fire drill for real.  No one was injured and we all got to go outside.

In the most recent terrorist attack, Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School resource officer, Broward County Sheriff's Deputy Scot Peterson, was armed as usual, but refused to enter the school building and kill the terrorist.  Having put 30 or more years into the job and being in his mid-fifties, he immediately concluded his professional career was at an end and retired before he could be fired.  Cops are now guarding his home and turning anyone away who might want to, ah..., interview him.  While the terrorist attack was in progress, three more Broward County Sheriff's Deputies arrived, but instead of going inside they stayed outside and hid behind their vehicles with their guns drawn.  In my opinion these men are cowards of the very worst kind, and I'd cheerfully take away their guns, badges, and pensions.  Tar and feathers are optional.

By contrast, you take any of the parents who lost children in this attack and ask these parents if they'd be willing to go inside, put themselves at risk, and kill a terrorist in a gun fight.  See what kind of response you get.

The failure of these deputies to do what they're paid to do serves to illustrate why the individual schools must take responsibility for the safety of their students.  Any instructor, administrator, or staff member who refuses to accept responsibility should be fired with prejudice, and someone, some other person with sand, can then be hired in their place.

So this is my solution.  If anyone has any better ideas, I'm all ears.