PART 1:
If you have never been to that part of the country it would be difficult for you to understand it, especially if your experience is in the northeastern United States. They call it "Big Sky" Country. That is no exaggeration. East of the Rockies it is all rolling or flat plains, with some buttes, mesas, valleys and small canyons. You can see for miles and miles.
I was in Great Falls, a big city by Montana standards and home to the 341st Air Base Wing at Malmstrom Air Force Base. Great Falls and Malmstrom were basically "Minuteman Missile Central" for the U. S. Air Force. North, east, and west of Great Falls sat 300 Minuteman III nuclear monsters. Each of these missiles sat in silos armed with three warheads ready to cause "the end of the world as we knew it." I should say "as we know it" because these deadly things are still there and still ready to go.
I shared a house downtown with another character, a Technical Sergeant (E-6) from Arizona. He was a bit of a gun nut as was I at the time. Gary was his name and he was a federally licensed class III arms dealer. That meant he could buy, sell and shoot just about any firearms or explosive that existed.
Gary had a little game he liked to play when watching Clint Eastwood movies. He would wear a flat, broad brimmed western hat, his serape, and smoke a thin cigar while wearing a single tied-down western holster with a .45 caliber revolver. The pistol would be loaded with what were called "hollywood" blanks. These blanks had a full powder load but were packed only with paper which would basically dissipate in the air on discharge. They were only dangerous at very close range, but you could still feel the concussive effect from the barrel ten feet away. He would, when compelled, help Clint shoot the bad guys. There were days when I was sure that Gary's elevator didn't make it to the top floor.
One day the Mormons, or maybe it was Jehovah's Witness came knocking at the door. Our house was on a corner lot where two main streets intersected. If my memory is correct it was 2nd Street North and 7th Avenue West. We did not have a lot of visitors. We were usually working, shooting, hunting, fishing or drinking. Guns and liquor went in and out on a regular basis, but we never mixed the two.
We were often seen loading and unloading his machine guns which we would fire down at Black Eagle Falls just outside of the city limits. Once a month or so we would mount his .30 caliber Browning air-cooled crew served weapon on his jeep (CJ-5) mount. Machine guns, after all like any machine need to be used. They do however, tend to make neighbors standoffish.
We were often seen loading and unloading his machine guns which we would fire down at Black Eagle Falls just outside of the city limits. Once a month or so we would mount his .30 caliber Browning air-cooled crew served weapon on his jeep (CJ-5) mount. Machine guns, after all like any machine need to be used. They do however, tend to make neighbors standoffish.
The Mormons knocked on the door while Gary and I were watching "For A Few Dollars More" and consuming copious amounts of cold beer. In this case I guess Gary was mixing firearms and alcohol.
I looked up from the couch and saw the dark pants, white shirts, and black ties. Gary got up to answer the door in all of his Clint Eastwood regalia. As he walked across the floor I told him who it was and he laughed a very odd laugh unlike any I had heard from him before. I sat up quickly and watched with a view that showed the Mormons through the front window, and the foyer where Gary would open the door.
I will stop and note here that Gary was a very good, nationally ranked, western quick draw competitor. He was also a multi-service pistol champion. As crazy and immature as he was, the man was exemplary with a pistol in his hand.
As he reached for the door handle, things from my seat began to move in slow motion. I saw the
Mormons look up and smile as they heard the door open. One reached out with his right hand while the other stepped back a bit and held up the good book. Gary opened the door and stood there, small cigar smoldering in his lips, a snarl on his face as reached for the .45. He brought it up in a quick, smooth motion and pointed directly at the lead missionary.
The two Mormons froze, smiles in place and stared a look of stunned confusion. They did not comprehend what they saw. The delay was similar to what you see Wile E. Coyote do in a Warner Brothers cartoon.
The pistol came up and roared once, sending smoke and bits of paper into the air. Two more roars followed in quick loud succession.
The poor missionary still not quite understanding what was happening, dropped their books and turned to flee the madman who appeared trying to kill them. Bumping into each other as they turned to go down the steps of the porch, one fell flat on is face while the other banged of the bannister, stumbled and caught himself on the stairs.
Gary continued to fire his blank ammo and was now bellowing unintelligible and probably profane noises.
The prone missionary was being trampled by the one who had bounced off the bannister. The second one stomped on his partners back and streaked down the side walk to the street. The other sort of crawled and scrawled down the sidewalk while attempting to pick himself up with his buddies footprint on the back of his shirt and blood on his face and hands.
Gary by now was on the porch, with an empty, smoking pistol in his hand, laughing in a way that by itself would scare any rational human being and most of the animals of the wild.
The last I saw of the two of them were their assholes and elbows as they fled desperately across the street and disappeared into the distance.
As Gary came back in, still laughing I brought him back to reality by saying we would certainly be getting a visit from the Great Falls Police and probably the Sheriff's Department.
No one came, no police, no sheriffs. No one cared, except of course for the two poor bastards who were victimized.
To this day the two of them surely tell the story of the "Madman of 2nd Avenue North." and how God saved them from certain death and martyrdom so they could continue to spread the word.
I wonder if the one guys recounts for his listeners how he ran up his pals back on on his way down the stairs.
TO BE CONTINUED
