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Old February 14, 2013, 10:39 PM   #4
SlowHuck
Junior Member
 
Join Date: February 14, 2013
Posts: 7
So here's my story…

I spent the the better part of the last 10 years caring for a sick father with cancer. When he passed, he left me with a small arsenal of handguns and a lifelong collection of tools. Since the house was shared with my sister, I ask her to move in with me not long after his death. She was working and I was not. She covered the living expenses and I worked at selling off the assets of the estate.

Regrettably, the majority of the handguns were the first to go. had I waited, I could've gotten much better prices for what I sold. But that's a whole other story.

The large cache of machine tools represented the next best source of income. But the market was depressed and it soon became apparent to me that getting more than pennies on the dollar of their worth was going to be a challenge. My sister and I were often at odds over fast sale/quick money versus holding out for a reasonable offer. It became a huge source of contention between us.

One night it came to a head. I had been neglecting my duties as chief cook and bottle washer due to being sick with a nasty combination of cold and flu that had prevented me for getting any sleep for days on end. She was ******. In an effort to escape immediate tensions, I put my dog on leash, slipped my 1911 in my pocket and exited the house to the front yard. She soon followed me out, demanding that I give her the gun. I refused, stating that I needed to be left alone to clear my head. She returned to the house and promptly called the police, reporting to them that I was threatening to commit suicide.

It did not take long for the alarming sight of red dots sweeping through the neighbor's lawns… two officers approaching me wielding tasers. I demonstrated absolute compliance by placing my hands on the roof of the car in front of me. My sister removed the gun from my pocket and placed it on the driveway a few feet away from where I stood.

After the cramped ride, handcuffed in the back of the cruiser, I found myself seated across a table from a representative of the community services board. Her objective was to evaluate my state of mind and determine whether or not I was a candidate for a Temporary Detention Order. keep in mind that I had not slept in several days, was coughing uncontrollably, eyes red and watering and more than a little frustrated with the predicament that I now found myself in. She swiftly signed off on the TDO, most likely because she felt she had better things she could be doing.

Next came three hours in a holding cell with no clue as to what would happen next, followed by a ride to the local medical center where I was poked, probed and violated for over an hour while being asked to sign a countless stream of hospital forms by an army of administrators. I refuse to sign anything. It is worthy to note that in the midst in the first few moments of this calamity, the transporting officer had removed my handcuffs sensing that I was no danger to anyone due to the commonality that we had developed during the 20 minute ride to the medical center.

The mandatory 72 hour hold seem to last forever. a mixture of robotic staff performing their due diligence and a few empathetic professionals seemed to wonder what I was doing there. At last, a brief hearing with a magistrate resulted in my release, but only after the medical center, the psychiatrist, and community services board had piled upon me a stack of bills that I did not have the means to pay for, and for which I am still being hounded.

In order to cover my ass (or so I thought), I volunteered for a stretch of counseling, joined AA and walked the straight and narrow for many months.

As a result of this little adventure, my already tainted credit record is destroyed. It took six months to retrieve my beloved 1911 from the local police department (released to my sister… sigh). But the worst part is that I've lost my Second Amendment rights. the concealed handgun permit that I've held for years is null and void. I cannot possess, transport or purchase any firearms.

This brings me to the entire point of this post. I have found little to nothing on the web regarding the process required to restore firearm rights to someone that is been victimized by an unfounded TBO. It seems to me that my course of action would be easier had I been convicted of a felony. in these days of crazies committing unfathomable acts with firearms I can understand the reticence of the system to grant anybody remotely considered mentally unstable their firearm rights but I am one of the good guys!

I'm hoping somebody out there has some constructive guidance to offer me in this unfortunate situation.
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