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The Annoyed Man wrote: I believe that it was the first "race riot" ever in the history of the nation, and it was a cause of great worry for many people.

Not a big deal, but a quick factual correction ... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chicago_Race_Riot_of_1919

The Annoyed Man wrote: However, my sense of really needing self-defense began with the 1992 Los Angeles riots in the wake of the Rodney King verdict. Prior to that, the only time I considered a gun for self-protection outside of the home was whenever I had to make a late night visit to an ATM, or something like that, and then I would (illegally) put a pistol under the front seat of my vehicle. At the time of the rioting, I worked for a newspaper publisher in downtown L.A., on First Street, just on the west side of the First Street Bridge, which connected the Aliso Village housing projects to Downtown. On the morning after "opening night" of the rioting, I witnessed a large mob of thousands of mostly hispanics sweeping past my office building, headed for city hall a few blocks away (where they ultimately broke into offices there and trashed the place). I thought, "this is not good!" The rioting intensified that day throughout the day. The next day, as I went out to get some lunch at a restaurant around the corner from my office, I came around the corner and nearly bumped into a military patrol of roughly squad size in full battle rattle. I thought, "this is REALLY not good! What in blazes am I doing at work in this kind of environment?" I left work thinking "I REALLY wish I had a gun with me." The Los Angeles basin was covered with a pall of smoke for days as rioters burned and looted buildings all over the county. It even happened near where I lived at the time in Altadena (Rodney King's home town). For quite a while after that, I frequently carried a gun in my car, and occasionally in a fanny-pack, although I did so illegally.

Horror stories I've heard of this event are what led me to believe I needed something more than a pistol for home defense - a 12 gauge and a .223 semi-auto rifle should do the trick. Ironic (and sad) how only two years after this event - in which even private citizens NEEDED "assault weapons" to defend their homes and businesses from violent street mobs - our brilliant leaders decided we were not to be trusted with any weapon that could hold more than 10 rounds of ammunition or looked too scary. A "scary-looking" AR-15 with a full 30-round mag is EXACTLY what you need to drive away an irrational mob without firing a shot - if the moronic mobs think your EBR actually is fully automatic, all the better to scare them away. I doubt a 50-person mob scares away as easily with a single-shot .22.

First realized I needed to learn self defense when I kept getting picked on in middle school. You'd never know it from my 275-pound-plus frame now, but I was a pipsqueak in school - didn't even top 200 pounds until college. So tae kwon do had to suffice at the time.

Some early stories/encounters shaped my beliefs that a gun for self defense was a good idea. My grandma once deterred a would-be mugger by pulling a double-barrel 12 gauge out of her trunk while loading groceries. My grandpa once deterred some bad-lookin-dudes by casually revealing his chrome-plated .45 while sitting at a stoplight with thousands of dollars in cash on his way to the bank. My dad missed being shot by the UT Tower sniper because dumb luck had him walking home a different way that day. I frequented the same Belton Chevron station every morning as George Kennard - the Killeen Luby's killer. A good friend in college was car jacked at 11 pm at a Burger King drive-thru on OST @ 288 in Houston by a 13-year-old with a chrome-plated .357. Once, while holding a baseball bat, I threatened a guy who was slapping around his girlfriend in the parking lot of a night club; only to find out from a friend later that the guy came back with a gun after I'd left. My future wife and I were "stalked" by a car load of drunks outside a bar in College Station - they were irritated because we had the audacity to cross the street in front of them. When they threatened to "beat me up" I grabbed for my folding knife, which only aggravated the situation. I had a gun in my truck, which was worthless to me.

I bought my first handgun while living near and working in the northern end of Pasadena - near the refineries, across the street from a corner frequented by hookers/pimps/pushers. I used to have to cross that street to my truck about midnight or 1 am 5 nights a week. But didn't get my license right away. Just practiced at the Pasadena Gun Club and occasionally carried in my truck.

So no single event led me to get my license in 1998. As with many of us, it was a culmination of "experience". But getting my CHL was one of the best and most empowering things I've ever done. Not only did I gain a new sense of confidence, but a sobering sense of responsibility. I stopped hanging out so much in bars, started watching what I said and how I reacted to different people. If someone ever attacks me, it's not going to be because I "started it".