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Discussion Starter · #1 · (Edited)
Hey GlockTalk folks. I'll just introduce myself by telling you the terrifying story of how I became a new Glock owner.

I am a Pittsburgh native and moved to Dallas with my girlfriend (she got a great engineering offer with Texas Instruments) August 2012. Things between us ended up not working out and i moved out into a duplex in the Richardson area at the beginning of July 2013. I found out the apartment was available though a friend that coincidentally lived in the apartment attached to the one i moved into; we were excited to be renting both halves of the duplex, because we didnt have to worry about having neighbors we didn't like. It was a nice (looking) neighborhood of mostly ranch-style duplexes with relatively well-kept lawns. There were four people living on their side, and I roomed with two friends making three including me on our side. If you are pondering the nature of what is sounding more and more like a hippie commune, I am 25 and the oldest in the group. I had my bachelor's and was working, and most of them were college age.

Everything was peachy until when a couple of weeks in, I found out that one of the guys on the other side was starting to sell weed OUT OF HIS OWN HOUSE to a bunch of sketchy characters he didn't even know. I pleaded with him to stop, and at the very least only sell to close friends. I explained that he was putting everyone in danger, on both sides of the duplex.

One night in mid-August at about 12 midnight, my worst fears came true. Four armed black males forced their way into the other side's back door while they were having a party. They rounded everyone up into the living room, made them sit indian style on the floor and took everyone's phones and wallets. I was asleep at the time, and my female roommate was gone for the night, leaving only my male roommate awake at the time. Foolishly, he left our front door unlocked as he went to the other side to see what all the commotion was about. This is where my nightmare begins.

I kept a Mossberg 500 loaded with buckshot in my closet, and my very reliable Kimber 1911 cocked and locked with 230 grain hydra-shoks in my dresser. However, there is no way to prepare for waking up at gunpoint. I was abruptly roused from my sleep to find myself staring down the barrel of a 12 gauge.

There were two young black males in my room, the other with a handgun, already rifling through my closet. The one pointing the shotgun at my face was yelling at me, "where da weed at, where da weed at?!" I pleaded with him that i was not a drug dealer, did not know who he was confusing me with, and didn't have any cash. My well-furnished bedroom, with paintings, stereo system, and 50" tv must have had him convinced otherwise (compared to the undecorated and generally trashy-looking attached residence, which they had already searched by this point), as they were set on finding some quantity of marijuana or cash in my house.

After fully awakening, I realized I had to find an opportunity to get to my 1911, or I might simply be another unfortunate person shot execution-style out of convenience for their personal belongings. After a few seconds, I recognized the shotgun the one perp was holding. It belonged to my friend next door; it was an antique, and he didn't have any ammo for it. I lunged at the guy with the shotgun, and shoved him out of the way to get to my dresser. An instant later, he bashed me with the shotgun before i could get into the drawer containing my pistol. I took my one chance and failed. I attempted to sheld myseld with my arms and continue to fight simply out of instinct, but they overpowered me and forced me to the floor.

The one with the shotgun stood on my neck and repeatedly bashed my face with the butt of the shotgun telling me I tore his shirt, and yelling "where da weed at, where da weed at?!" I never lost consciousness despite being repeatedly smashed with the butt of the shotgun in the left side of my face, and being repeatedly kicked in the back of the head. At one point i could tell that if i was kicked once more in the back of the head i would definitely pass out, but he coincidentally stopped hitting me at that moment. What i found out after the fact is that i was on the ground bleeding and praying, they took all of the valuable items from my apartment over the course of 30 minutes. Thats right, ladies and gentlemen- don't count on your neighbors to call 911. Eventually there were three of the four thugs in my room, leaving only one to hold the seven others next door at gunpoint. I overheard one pleading to the others to let him cut my legs off with what I can only assume was my machete they found in my closet. I heard "Lets kill this mother**** right now" about a dozen times. And was even asked where I wanted to be shot.

They started to pile blankets over my head and I assumed it was be to muffle a gunshot. Accepting that this was the moment of my death, I silently prayed for my savior to take me into his kingdom. A moment later they removed the blankets from on top of me, and tied my hands with the cord from my grandmother's antique lamp that was at my bedside. They escorted me, bleeding and now blind from swelling and blood in my eyes, hands tied and at gunpoint, to the other side with the others and violently threw me to the floor. They told us all to lay face down on the floor and not move for sixty seconds as they left our place, got into their vehicle and left with all of our valuable belongings.

I went to the ER afterwards and got a CT scan to check for signs of concussion or bleeding in my skull. My scans were clear but i was given about 40 stitches to various lacerations on my face and arm from the shotgun.

I stayed with two of the friends that lived on the other side and their parents for the next week or so, and decided to forget about my new promotion and just move back home to Pittsburgh to live with family. The stress of starting my new managerial position and looking for a new apartment all while still traumatized from the home invasion was too much. I am visibly shaking while writing this, and this is the first time i've told this story in comletion. Maybe it's silly to tell this whole story for the first time to complete strangers, but I just need someone to talk to- some new friends.

Anyway. All of my guns were taken except for my 12 gauge (which I openly carried in spite of Texas law every time I had to go back to that apartment for needed items and to move out) and my Lyman .54 flintlock (conveniently my favorite gun) which they didn't find.

So. What was the first thing I did when I got back to Pittsburgh and received my replacement driver's license? (The thugs took my wallet despite the face that it contained no cash) I decided that I would buy a reliable, full-size handgun and never let it leave my side. I decided that I would become like the samurai never seen without his blade.

I decided that a Glock was in order due to its reputation for reliability, high ammunition capacity, durability, and reasonable price. I picked up a Glock 21SF, and despite my small womanly hands, I loved the grip I could get on it more than any other handgun I'd ever handled. While my strong hand didn't wrap around it the way it did my 1911 with slim grips, I really liked the way my left palm could get a full purchase on the left side of the grip due to the extra space, and my right thumb settled nicely above my left without being dangerouly close to the slide stop as it did on my 1911. I looked at the array of handguns in front of me and decided that if I had to reach for any of them in the situation I was recently in, it would be the Glock 21SF I was holding. Because I carried the 1911 for four years, I am comfortable with, and enjoy .45 ACP, which sealed the deal. And after some slow fire at 10 yards and rapid fire, presentation fire, and double taps at 10 feet I am in love with the 21SF.

So here I am. Feel free to comment and ask questions about my story. I came here to talk and make friends and no topic offends me. See you on the range. :wavey:
 

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Discussion Starter · #2 ·
Also. If you are wondering about my username, my first name is Luke. When I shot my first deer, I was with my grandfather. Seeing how well-composed I was, he said "geez. you didn't get buck fever or start shaking or anything. You're cool hand Luke!" and the name eventually stuck among the other guys at hunting camp.
 

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Wow. I may start sleeping with a gun.

I lived in Richardson for about a year, not that it matters.

Welcome to GT.
 

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getcha suma dat
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Brother, that's a pretty intense experience. I'm sorry you had to go through that. Thank you for taking the time to write that out for us though. Reading experiences like this give us a better understanding of what could possibly happen when we're least expecting it. The 21sf was my first Glock. It's a good gun. Enjoy it and be safe.
 

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"Knowledge Speaks - Wisdom Listens,"
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:welcome: Enjoy GT....................
 

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Welcome to GT.
 

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You local friendly Skynet dealer
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Howdy!
 

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Wow....what a story!!!!

Welcome from Missouri......
 

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I think this story is more about a first warning system.

Doors locked and a dog, for example.

Having the gun with you all the time is a good idea, but would seem more useful if you were actually awake.

But if the bad guys can get right up to you and take you while you are asleep, then I don't know that location is the main issue.

___________
I joined the NRA, have you yet?
 

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Discussion Starter · #15 ·
I think this story is more about a first warning system...

...But if the bad guys can get right up to you and take you while you are asleep, then I don't know that location is the main issue.
Oh, you are absolutely right. The situation progressed the way it did because my front door was left open by my roommate when he walked between apartments.

When I said "keep it by my side at all times" I was speaking more as a generality in terms of immediately replacing my CCW weapon and cultivating a mindset of preparedness, which includes preparing for another home invasion in the way you described. Good post, thank you.
 
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