When I lived in Oregon, our house was broken into and I shot the "fine young gentleman" who was scaring the heck out of my family and trying to steal what I had worked hard to buy. Sadly, however, I didn't kill him. I say sadly because a little over a month later that same "fine young gentleman" went into a house 3 streets over from mine and killed a father and mother in front of their children when he was trying to rob their home. Luckily for everyone else, this "fine young gentleman" was caught and locked away. Asked why he chose that house, and why he killed those people he reponded with this. "The last house I broke into I was shot. No warning, no nothin, just shot. I didn't go back to that house cause I didn't want to get shot no more, so I went to another house that didn't have no guns." How did you know they didn't have any guns, asked the officer. "I ain't sayin, but I found out they didn't, so I went there." Why did you shoot them, asked the officer. "Because I needed their stuff, and I told them not to try and stop me, but they didn't listen."
I guess my point is that owning a gun might have saved my families lives, and if I hadn't been so nervous, a gun might have saved the lives of two parents doing nothing but trying to protect their family.
Guns = Good
People = Bad