I hadn't really thought about it until now, but five times in my life, I’ve been too close to the working end of guns.
Before I graduated high school, I was shot at twice. Once for stealing hubcaps and once by a jealous delivery driver. Nobody in Lubbock thought much about it.
Years later, in an Austin high rise office, an angry guy pointed a .45 at my face. He was a lobbyist. Brilliant but crazy?
Then there was the the guy who pulled a gun out of his boot in the Headliner’s Club, one of Austin’s fanciest. Did I mention he was an Episcopal priest? Brilliant but crazy describes him, too.
But Jack Ruby was dumb as a sack of rocks. Probably crazy, too. He was standing next to me as he lunged out, shot and killed Lee Harvey Oswald in the basement of the Dallas Police Department.