In February 1984, I was working at the community mental health center. It was about 8:30 a.m. when a woman came into the clinic with a 14-year-old boy. She had seen the neighbor’s boy waiting for the school bus, carrying a sawed-off shotgun. So she picked him up and brought him to the clinic.
The boy said that he was being bullied at school and was going to get even. His parents had given him a single-shot .410 gauge shotgun for Christmas, and he had used his father’s tools to cut it down to a pistol. I called the police to come take custody of the gun, and his mom came for the boy, but it could have gone very badly. That boy would be in his 50s now, and I hope he is doing well.