This is an excerpt from the book, “The 14th Reinstated.”
Is any of it starting to look familiar?
All my guns were double edged swords, because having those guns protected me and my family, but they also made me a target. It was never a secret that I had the guns. “Back before” I sold hunting books and booked hunting trips from my home office, so my address was published many times on paper and on the Web. It was easy enough to find me and a lot of people tried to take the guns away, starting with the government. Once the country collapsed and the Feds were gone, it was the gangs, the bandits and sometimes my neighbors. I was smart enough to hide most of the guns off the property and keep just what I needed to defend my home.
We were raided by the government within hours after Congress outlawed gun ownership, but I was ready for that.
The sneaky bastards passed the law at midnight on a Saturday, on a holiday weekend. “Tolerance Day” was our newest federal holiday, but those in power didn’t show any tolerance for gun owners. They passed the total gun ban behind locked doors, in a back room of the Capitol without allowing any discussion. The president, who actually presided illegally over the joint session, signed it into law immediately.
They didn’t even let the opposition vote. Armed Capitol Police kept the Tea Party lawmakers from the meeting. Later, the majority leaders claimed they had followed the rules, that the Tea Party was absent because they had boycotted. Nobody believed that was true, but there was nobody to stop them, so the law stood.
The Supreme Court had long since been compromised after the last few presidents had packed it with appointees they could control and who would do their bidding. Within hours, SCOTUS heard the case and ruled it constitutional. They ruled that the Second Amendment only applied to government employees because the militia was clearly a government entity in the eyes of the founding fathers. Later, when the raids started, the Supreme Court ruled without explanation or comment that the Posse Comitatus Act didn’t apply to federal raids on gun owners. The press was so corrupt they didn’t even bother to report on any of what was happening. If it were not for the internet v2.1, we never would have seen it coming.
The raids focused not just on gun owners, but also on Christians, conservatives, right-wing bloggers and anybody who still dared to fly the American flag. The conventional wisdom was that if they raided your place, they would find something to charge you with, even if they had to bring it with them.
It didn’t matter if you owned a gun; the law gave them open-ended permission for unwarranted searches of any private property. All they needed to do was say they “suspected” there were guns on the property and centuries of constitutional protection for United States citizens were thrown out for good.
I was ready for the raids and all they got were a few rusty junkers I had collected over the years. They were enough to keep them from planting more damaging evidence, but were also guns I could afford to lose.
The rest of my guns, even those we used for daily protection, were safely hidden in a place nobody would ever find. It was a risk, not having any guns for protection, but I figured it would be better to risk a few months then, rather than the rest of our lives without any means to defend ourselves. I was pretty sure things would get a lot worse down the road and it turned out I was right.
The agents suspected that I had a lot more guns than what they found and tried their best to get me to tell them where they were, but I never did because I knew those guns were the only thing that would keep my family alive in the future.
After several days of painful “interrogations,” they realized I wasn’t going to talk, so they put me in jail. While the media back in the day focused on “waterboarding” and how horrible America had become because we used it on some terrorists, it was a joke. Everybody knew it never worked and they didn’t even waste time using it on me. What they did instead was much worse. While there was no lasting or permanent damage from what they did to me, there are a lot of scars. I still wake up screaming at night with the memory of the pain they caused. They didn’t try to hide what they were doing because there was nobody to stop them. My back, legs and arms will always carry the reminders.
They never found any more guns and never had proof that I committed any crimes. I was never charged with anything, I didn’t have a trial and they wouldn’t let me talk to a lawyer. Months later they got sick of feeding me, I guess, because one day my wife was waiting to take me home.
I was one of the lucky ones; I left a lot of good guys behind in that “Gun Act Violation Re-education Camp,” most of them were never heard from again . . .”