From Sunday’s Washington Post:

The NRA’s Call to Arms

By Michael Powell
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday , August 6, 2000 ; W08

In a vast and blue-lit palace of a convention center, on a
high and silvery dais, a man of the gun nods at his
thousands.

At serried rows of war veterans in their breasted ribbons
and lawyers and accountants in polos and khakis and
broad-backed farmers and factory laborers with
black-and-yellow National Rifle Association caps. At rapt
grandkids and dozens of women wearing T-shirts emblazoned:
“Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition.”

The man on the dais raises his hand and calls out: Bring me
our oldest. Eighty-eight-year-old Mary Ann Driver rises. A
diminutive lady with white curls and eyes like live coals,
she hails from Saginaw, Mich. She works her way across the
darkened floor and climbs to the stage. She embraces him and
he guides her to the lectern. In a voice grown reedy with
age, she talks of a lifetime spent in the fellowship of
shooters.

The crowd roars and he beckons again.

Deliver our youngest.

Hands rise here and there. Necks crane and there’s a shivery
gasp of pleasure as red-haired Charlie, 5 months old, is
lifted into the air. The father cradles Charlie in the curl
of his arm and carries him forth across the floor and steps
to the lectern and promises:

“Little Charlie will be a life member of the N-R-A!”

Everyone roars and claps and roars and smiles. And the man
on the dais, Wayne LaPierre, executive vice president of the
NRA, a man with the wavy, sandy brown hair and soft,
agreeable face of a Little League coach, adjusts his beige
suit jacket and bobs on his heels.

[snip]

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A17275-2000Aug

1.html