Jerome Ersland is an Oklahoma City pharmacist who’s become the latest lightning rod in the ever-present debate about armed self-defense. Ersland, a 52-year-old disabled vet, was held up by two men and responded by pulling a gun of his own. He proceeded to shoot one of the bad guys in the head, and then, once the other had fled, went back behind the counter to retrieve another gun which he then used to pump five more bullets into the already-wounded assailant, killing him. As it turns out, his act of “insurance shooting” was caught on tape.
Ersland is now facing first-degree murder charges, but he has a lot of supporters who feel that while he may have crossed a line in again shooting a man who was no longer an imminent threat, it’s a line at which he wouldn’t have been staring had these upstanding citizens not decided to rob him at gunpoint; I am one of those supporters.
Fatigue leads to indifference, and that’s what is at play here. Good people are tired; we’re just plain tired. We’re tired of having to constantly look over our shoulders to keep an eye on that segment of society that has chosen to live their lives as brutal, shameless predators. Mr. Ersland disposed of a predator; that he may have technically violated some standard within the realm of lawful self-defense in order to do so doesn’t mean as much to me as perhaps it should, but the responsibility for that rests squarely at the feet of the misguided citizens, politicians and judicial system that let the predators gain all of this ground in the first place.
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Robert G. Yetman, Jr. Editor-At-Large www.ChristianMoney.com
I agree with you, Bob. I've heard the press cite objections that the assailant was disabled, and that for that reason he shouldn't have gone after him. I wonder though, when you are under attack and adrenaline is coursing through your veins just how keen your perspective is in terms of assessing whether or not you're still in imminent danger. When I was 14 years old, an assailant tried to break into our home. I could see him try to peer into the window. Fortunately, I had a twelve gauge shotgun which my father had trained me to use. I never had to fire a shot, although I would have had he made it inside. The distinct sound of a round being engaged as I cocked the weapon sent him away. I remember falling to pieces when the police and my parents finally got home some 90 minutes later. The intruder never even made it inside the house. I can imagine that I may have "purchased a little extra insurance" had he fired at me!
Posted by: Liz Combs | June 15, 2009 at 02:08 PM