Who’s at fault when a gun accidentally kills someone?
I asked that question too in my first book, At Close Range. My son Jon died in freak gun accident at a party in 2009. His story didn’t make national news. I recall after his death cutting out the small burb in the local paper. Then, my son became a number — a statistic on websites for gun tragedies.
Unlike Jon’s story, high profile people always make national news. That’s the case with the death of a cinematographer on the film Rust starring Alec Baldwin. He drew a weapon in a rehearsal for the Western he was producing. The cinematographer’s subsequent death made every news outlet when his gun on the set discharged and killed her. My heart broke for her, the injured director, her family, the cast, the crew, and Alec Baldwin. I know firsthand the pain when a deadly mistake is made. Jon’s been gone eleven years and I still find myself mourning.
When I heard the news about Haylna, the cinematographer, I immediately connected the dots. It was like déja vu, the aftermath of an unsecured gun in a room, a lack of concern for safety and then accountability. Even though I saw the similarities, I was hesitant to speak out on my Lock Arms for Life platforms. I was asked to comment and said I’d have to think about it. A couple of thoughts entered my mind. First, there was a story in Colorado about a group of students who walked out of a gun violence vigil organized by Moms Demand Action. They felt the support was more about changing gun laws than their grief. Then, I listened to a talk show trash Shannon Watts, leader of Moms, for jumping on her Twitter after the death of Haylna. They accused her of exploiting the tragedy, wanting to restrict guns, and “It’s this rush to make this accident and this death all about gun control.”
In Texas, gun organizations are sometimes in alignment. We know our audience and think long and hard before speaking out. Besides being the founder of Lock Arms for life, I’m also a board member of Texas Gun Sense. In an email, questions came up about what we should or shouldn’t say in a public statement. One board member, an NRA certified instructor, felt the details were still under investigation. He said, “it was a specialized situation not affecting the safety of the public and has reached the proverbial dead horse level of publicity.” He said this within a few days of the shooting.
I replied in our email strategy string. I didn’t want my organization to be caught up in pointing fingers when tragedies happen. I’d rather use the tragedy as a teaching tool later — an example of why everyone should learn safe handling.
Gun safety is a tricky game. Gun guys were on every news channel, sharing their expert knowledge of safety. I’ve done educational work for five years now, and in most situations, I’m inclined to bring an NRA certified instructor or a police officer with me when talking about safe handling. I know the safety rules and can recite most from memory, but I believe it’s best to have a professional.
Hopefully, there will be a group of experts answering the question of who’s responsible for the cinematographer’s death. Like Jon, Haylna’s death seems to be negligence. But who was negligent?
I blamed the owner of the gun immediately after Jon died. Why not? It was his weapon, and the shooting happened in the owner’s home. But many others, including members of my family, thought everyone played a role in his death. Perhaps the question now, in the aftermath of the Rust accident, is where does the law fit when inexperience is the criminal intent, because there’s not enough safe handling instruction?
Keaton, my youngest son, lives and works in Hollywood. His job is location manager for Fox/Disney Productions. He loves it. I hear almost daily about the places he’s scouted out, and details of what it takes to get permissions to shoot a scene.
As soon as I heard about the tragedy, he was the first person I called. “Yeah, everyone’s talking about it.” he said. I heard him typing. He was reading and responding to the chatter on his film company’s message platform. He commented on a union dispute, that it wasn’t mainly about money. “Workers were concerned about working conditions and hours,” he explained. Keaton wasn’t in the union yet, but he had applied.
He then tells me the age of armorer, saying she was 24. A year older than Jon when he died. I’m thinking about my many talks and my testaments to PTA parents and Texas legislators.
“It was preventable like many of these tragedies are. The lack of education in that room is what got me started as an advocate. The part of the brain that’s responsible for long-term decisions, weights in the risk and benefits and controlling impulses isn’t completely developed until the age of 25.”
There were red flags in the room where Jon died at the hand of that gun. There were warnings about unsafe behavior on that movie set. People had walked off the job because of risks; there was drinking and target practice with guns according to some stories. To be certain, there were live bullets.
Like Jon’s story, the details are unclear here in the first days beyond Rust. I don’t see this as gun violence. There was no violence involved. A cinematographer is dead because of lack of safety practices that amount to negligence. I doubt the young woman appointed as armorer was even an expert. More likely she was just handed the job. Keaton’s first job was a safety monitor. He was thrown onto a sitcom set with no training and basically learned what to do while on the job. I wonder if she was done the same.
There is a difference — no celebrity was in the room when my son died. Makes you think they’d have given more concern about safety because of that. But they didn’t. It’s all too easy to make a mistake that ends a life.
