[Hunley]

I was involved in a scenario in Atlanta where I had to draw. No shots were fired.

It was mid-April of last year. I was moving back down from NW Georgia to the college town of Statesboro near Savannah. I had loaded up my band new car, and was four months post-op from having most of my lumbar fused (L3-S1). I had just that week completed my last physical therapy, and, as any college kid would be, had my car loaded down with 90% of everything I owned at the time. I had gotten a 24oz. cup of coffee before I got on the highway, and by the time I hit Atlanta, my eyeballs were floating.

I was taking I-285 (the Atlanta bypass) to go around the usually horrible traffic found on I-75. It was longer, but usually quicker and less hectic. As I said, I had to pee like a racehorse. I pulled off on an exit and whipped into a parking spot on the front, right-hand corner of the convenience store. I was the only car in the parking lot and no one was on the pumps (it was about 9 in the morning on a Sunday).

There was a payphone on the corner which I had parked, and a woman was standing in front of it. I stepped out, and she politely asked me for 50 cents to use the payphone. I had it to spare, and didn't really mind. Besides, there was a cold front in the area that had brought a cold, misty rain.

I started digging in my pockets when her buddy, an African-American male, started running towards us from around the other corner of the building. I glanced over in time to see him jump off the curb onto the pavement while pulling something out of his pocket. He was running towards me, and she was backing up. I put my hand on the grip of a still concealed S&W 66-2 with a 4"bll in a Fobus paddle holster under my windbreaker. He pulled his hand out and whipped open a small tactical folder. I don't even remember drawing, but I whipped it out, pulled the hammer back, and had my finger on the trigger guard.

He froze, dropped the knife, and lost control of his bladder at the same time. His baggy, bright red sweatpants had a growing dark red spot. The woman looked at him, looked at me, then back at him. He looked at her, then back at me. I told him to slowly pick up the knife and put it back up. He did, and I reholstered my revolver. I threw the 50 cents at the woman and said "God bless. Y'all have a nice day." I walked in the store after making sure they walked off and making note of where they went. I asked the clerk, who was on the phone, if he had seen what just happened. "What?" was his response. He had been iting down yacking on the phone behind the counter. Missed the whole damn thing. No cameras out front either. I went and used the bathroom as I was about to wet my own pants.

Never called the cops. I remember what they look like to this day. In a way, I regret not calling the police. Hopefully he learned his lesson.

Now, before anyone says I shouldn't have cocked the hammer (which in hindsight may have been a no-no), keep in mind what condition I was in. I had just recovered form a 5 hour surgery fixing my lumbar. The three disks not removed were decompressed and had a laminectomy performed around them. My neurosurgeon said something like this would have taken me 9-12 months to recover from if I was 40. My back may have been strong enough to stop PT and move back, but it was not strong enough to have someone stab and/or tackle me. Just glad I'm okay.