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I’ve only shot a gun once in my life. When I went to camp as a kid, there was a rifle range and, at age 12 or 13, I shot 22s at a target. And I’ve only had a gun in an apartment I lived in once. When my father, a World War II veteran, died in 1983, I spent time in the New York apartment my parents had moved to after I went off to college. I began cleaning out his closet


