We face too many gunsby Michael Daly
Nicole duFresne (l.), a vibrant, beautiful actress, had circle of loving friends. The feisty 28-year-old was gunned down early Thursday after confronting gang of muggers. Yesterday the reward for helping find her shooter was doubled.
Two hours after leaving the Republican convention and listening to George Bush speak about a safer America, yours truly found himself facing a gun in the safest big city in America.
The gun was held by one of two teenagers who had suddenly appeared out of the early morning darkness. I kept my eyes lowered and my hands at my sides and I said not a word. I have seen several hundred gunshot victims. I long ago learned what can result from even the slightest challenge to someone with a pistol.
"If somebody offered you $100 million, but you had to give up your life would you do it?" a cop friend named Vertel Martin once asked.
The robbers fled with less than $100. I felt angry and violated and maybe a little shamed for having allowed myself to be bullied. That was still much better than feeling my life bleed out into the gutter.
If I had resisted you might very well not be reading these words today. I often pass that Brooklyn corner where a teenager with a gun would have needed to do nothing more than flex his right index finger. I would then have fallen bleeding to that grimy patch of pavement at Carroll St. and Polhemus Place in Park Slope.
Yesterday morning, I stood on another patch of pavement, this on Clinton St. just below Rivington St. on the lower East Side. There were two quarter-sized splotches and a dozen smaller spatters of what was almost certainly blood on a dirty snowbank.
A pair of blue disposable gloves such as paramedics use lay discarded just down the block. Up at the corner flickered eight candles sheltered by a white cardboard box weighted down with clumps of snow. A shred of yellow crime scene tape remained knotted to a store grating.
Here was where the 28 year-old actress and playwright Nicole duFresne was walking with her fiance, Jeffrey Sparks, and two friends just after 3 a.m. Thursday. A group of teenagers then appeared out of the early morning darkness and demanded money.
One of the teens wore a white hood and had a white scarf half covering his face. He was holding a gun, but Sparks apparently did not understand the threat and he pushed through the teens. The gunman responded by pistol whipping him.
Any of us would have been outraged to see a loved one struck in the face with a gun. DuFresne had proven her dislike for bullies back in high school in a suburb outside Minneapolis, when she challenged somebody who had been taunting a special education student. She had been raped during college and she had dedicated her first play to the therapist who taught her "the importance of dealing with tragedy head-on . . . to come out of hiding."
She must have been determined not to be a victim again, not to let anybody make her feel violated or shamed, not to give in to anyone who sought to control her with the threat of violence. She had not seen enough gunshot victims to know how easy it is to become suddenly dead. She uttered a variation on a line that goes back to the old westerns and B movies.
"What are you going to do, shoot us?" duFresne reportedly said.
A Google search of the more usual "What are you going to do, shoot me?" produces 541 hits. The usage in movies and TV often involves a man challenging a woman who has a gun.
In real life, the line is more often uttered when both parties are male. The seemingly invariable response is typified by a 1994 New York case in which one Eric Copeland confronted one Rodney Cox, who was armed with an automatic pistol.
"Copeland said to defendant, 'What are you going to do, shoot me?'" court documents report. "In response, defendant fired one fatal bullet."
The "us" variation appears only 44 times on Google. Two of these are news accounts of duFresne's shooting, among scant reports in which someone faced with a gun was roused to fury on behalf of not just "me" but "us."
The response was the same. The gunman first tried to shoot duFresne's friend, Mary Jane Gibson, but the gun apparently jammed. He then shot duFresne in the chest and she fell to the pavement, dying.
Yesterday, as the police hunted the killer and his cohorts through the cold, the blood in the dirty snow prompted me to write some words that duFresne will not be able to: Until we do something about handguns there will be no real safety even in the safest big city in the safer America
http://www.nydailynews.com/front/story/276153p-236477c.html