Teaching responsible gun use In Chesco, youths aim to learn about safety and
marksmanship.
Renee Mentzer, 14, with .22-caliber rifle in hand, relaxes as she waits on
the firing line. Her father, Dave, organized the Southern Chester County
Youth Shooting League. (Dan Z. Johnson / Inquirer)
By Sandy Bauers
INQUIRER STAFF WRITER LONDON GROVE – The littlest was 9-year-old Adam
Keating, a first-timer whose legs splayed out behind him as he propped
himself on his elbows, steadying his aim. Adam’s father, Matt, knelt at his
shoulder, murmuring advice.Nearby, Renee Mentzer, 14, waited confidently.
John Flynn, the senior range officer, strode back and forth behind the group.
“Line ready on the left? Ready on the right?” He paused. “Commence fire.”All
was silent for a moment, then came the spit of .22-caliber rifles as six
children pulled their triggers.It was practice time for the Southern Chester
County Youth Shooting League, aged 8 and up. Flynn’s goal is to teach gun
safety and promote marksmanship.”It’s not for people who don’t want their
children to have guns, and God bless them,” said Renee’s father, Dave
Mentzer, of New London, who formed the group. “But if we can reach 20 or 40
children who have an interest in firearms and are going to be hunters anyhow
. . .”Mentzer has heard criticism, as have the other parents. “People lump us
in with the criminal element that misuses guns,” said Joe Neuman, program
director.”People say if you teach a child target-shooting, you are
potentially teaching them to shoot someone,” he said. “But if you teach
someone to drive a car, you’re not teaching them to run someone over.”Nancy
Hwa of the Center to Prevent Handgun Violence said the Washington
organization “doesn’t have a problem with target-shooting. We just hope
parents don’t think that by having children in such a class, they can leave
their guns lying around.”A group of youngsters gathered at the shooting area,
checking safety glasses and ear protection. Flynn had brought all the rifles
in a locked, footlocker-size box and laid them out on a nearby table. He
barked, “Ready? Go to the table for your rifles.”They refer to the .22s as
guns, rifles or firearms, not weapons. “If some go into the service, maybe
they’ll use a weapon,” Mentzer said. Here, it is “sporting equipment.”The
youngsters marched over single file. Solemnly, they held the guns rigid,
barrels pointed skyward. Some, who are big enough, can use regular .22s.
Others use scaled-down versions, including one the manufacturer dubbed a
Davey Cricket. Several fathers, wearing camouflage, stood nearby, alert. One
lunged and grabbed a boy’s gun, scolding, “Two hands!”When all were set,
adults brought the ammunition, 10 rounds to each.Mentzer got the idea to
start the league a few years ago, the day Renee shot her first deer.That day,
as they dragged her deer out of the woods, the Mentzers met another hunter
and his sons. Mentzer asked one of the boys how often he had shot his
rifle.”Twice,” the boy answered.”You mean you’ve been to the shooting range
twice?”No, he’d only fired twice. Mentzer said he was appalled. If you’re
going to do it, learn to do it right, he thought. Mentzer’s league – one of
17,000 youth groups in the nation, according to the National Rifle
Association – is made up of 30 to 40 young people, with about equal numbers
of boys and girls.The children fired five times, paused for Flynn’s safety
check, then fired five times again. One of the fathers watched the targets
through binoculars, nodding when a shot was good.When all was quiet, and the
empty rifles checked, Flynn told the youths to return the guns to the
table.”The line is safe,” he then announced. “Go get your targets.”Renee, who
usually blows the center out of the bull’s-eye, balled up the target in
disgust when she saw she was an inch off.Adam Keating hadn’t even hit the
target, but he said, “I like it.”Matt Keating of West Chester is in the Army
Reserve. Others of the fathers hunt. To them, guns are a reality. They want
their sons and daughters to learn safety in a controlled setting.One mother
was there, too. Faith Hall of Hockessin, Del., “never wanted anything to do
with guns,” she said. But her son Jonathan, 13, hunts with his father. He has
marked his rifle with hatches for each squirrel he has killed.She said she
enrolled him so he would learn “wise decisions. I’m trying to let him be who
he wants to be.” When people challenge Mentzer, saying the league is
encouraging gun use, he answers, “Of course we are. It’s a wholesome family
sport.”Keating said he believes recent school shootings involve children who
never learned about guns and are responding to what they see on TV. “Perhaps
the answer is to take the mystique out of firearms,” he said.Hwa countered
that “making children comfortable with firearms is also wrong. The two boys
in Jonesboro [Ark.] who killed four of their classmates and their teacher
knew all too well how to use guns.”Next came the safety talk. Mentzer held up
a Ruger, “the kind you see on TV. Does it do bad things?”A boy said yes. “It
does?” Mentzer said in mock surprise. Then, “In the hands of bad people, it
does.”He clicked the barrel shut, snapped in a clip, fired . . . all the
while peppering the youths with questions: “Is it loaded now? How do you
know? Now is it loaded?”The point, he told them, “is that it’s difficult to
tell.”Neuman chimed in. “If you’re at a friend’s house, and you see that
Ruger, what do you do? Go see if it’s loaded? No! You don’t touch it. You
leave the area; you get an adult.”The youngsters stood still, eyes wide.Back
to Mentzer: “Which is more dangerous, a rifle or a handgun?”Young bodies
shifted. Both?”Right!” Mentzer said. “Both will kill you deader than dead if
you mishandle them. When people play with guns is when they get hurt.”