After serving in military, no one needs assault rifles

After serving in military, no one needs assault rifles

Once again the U.S. is embroiled in a gun argument wrapped up in the Second Amendment. I wonder what the original framers of the Constitution would think? In their day a qualified rifleman could get off three rounds of musket ball shot in one minute with enough muzzle velocity to reliably strike its target up to around 200 yards away.

A semi-automatic weapon today can easily fire three rounds per second with great accuracy and killing power to well over 500 yards. I know because the Marines trained me to do it. Such a weapon cannot be considered a sporting hunting weapon of an animal that can’t tell you are a threat. At home when you miss your target, it is just as dangerous to your family and neighbors as it is to the person breaking in.

Rifle or shotgun for hunting or plunking varmints in the yard? Sure you should be able to have one. Handgun for sport or protection? No problem there either.

An automatic or semi-automatic weapon designed for the military? Until you sign six years of your life away all the while being told when to get up and when to go to bed, how to dress and wear your hair, working multiple days straight with little or no sleep, training in the mud and damp and desert heat and Arctic cold, you have no right to own the kind of weapon used to kill 49 people in a matter of minutes because you have not earned that right.

And, by the way, that Constitution that you cling to so dearly, as long as you are in the military it doesn’t apply to you. Now the Uniform Code of Military Justice rules you. In reality it strips you of the rights that ordinary citizens you protect enjoy.

And once you’ve earned that right to use the weapon to protect a document that does not protect you – and completed your tour of service – you know that there is no need to own such a terrible weapon or use one ever again. The only reason such a weapon existed in the first place was because of hate.

You need to hate something so badly? Take up golf. Better yet why not spend that same time and money doing something for the world instead. Work at a food pantry. Help the widow down the road with her yard. Go eat at a restaurant that serves Middle Eastern food. Or if you’re of Middle Eastern heritage, go eat at a restaurant foreign to you. Ask the server what he or she recommends. Look one another in the eye. Smile. Thank each other. Keep on going back until you know one another by name.

That way the next time there is a mass shooting, and the victims aren’t related to you – and it will happen – at least you’ll care. Even if it’s only to ask, “Why does this keep happening?”

Rev. Jack Acri, N. Jackson

Rev. Acri is pastor of First Federated Church.

Many involved with Walls

Recently an article in The Vindicator and other media focused on the Walls of Honor that were displayed in Niles on June 19.

These walls, six total, honor those servicemen and servicewomen who made the ultimate sacrifice to protect our right of freedom. These news media gave the credit for the walls to the Trumbull Career and Technical Center. The center did help by finishing the walls and building the bases.

However, many others also were involved in this project. The idea and the initial funding came from American Legion Post No. 700 in Howland and the Auxiliary of Post 700. Many donations came from other military organizations throughout the Mahoning Valley.

The military Order of Purple Hearts of Trumbull County made a large donation. Home Depot and Lowe’s contributed materials and gave discounts.

Many donations from private citizens such as Smith Mealy, Jack Simcox and many others too numerous to mention helped with funding. All of the plaques with names and lettering were done by BP Shirt Co. in Niles. All of the research, design work, individual plates and lettering were done by two members of Post 700, Chaplain Dave Luther and yours truly.

Dan Nagy, Howland

Parts of Calvary Cemetery are in disgraceful condition

I would like to say how very disappointed I am in the Calvary Cemetery in Youngstown. My husband and I went up there the other day to take some flowers to my mom and dad’s graves, which are right across from the chapel there. I wanted to see if they put a flag on my dad’s grave because sometimes he doesn’t get one even though his grave says that he was a Navy veteran.

Looking around, some of the graves were taken care of, and when I say some, that’s what I mean. The Catholic Diocese can surely afford to hire and pay some people to take care of the graves that have no one to do this. Some of the gravestones are only visible by a circle in the middle of maybe 5 or 6 inches. This is disgusting.

We were up there one day, and there was a maintenance man looking for a certain grave number. I told him what ours was and he said “Oh, this must be the one I’m looking for.” I told him I was glad that someone was taking care of the graves because they were terrible. He said “Someone turned this one in,” so I asked him, “Do you mean that you don’t take care of the graves unless someone turns in a complaint?” He said that is how it works.

My husband and I sprayed all around my parents’ graves with weed killer. This is the only way to keep grass from growing up the stones. My parents’ graves are beautiful. One day, someone ran over my dad’s stone with the grass cutter and put a big slice in the marble. I went stomping down to the office and demanded that it be fixed, and it was. Ever since then, when we go up to the cemetery, we dig out around the stones, put gravel and mulch all around and try to make them look beautiful. I just want to say how it hurts our hearts to see the way Calvary takes care of the grounds. A couple of years ago, my husband and I and my brother and sister in law bought four plots by the street across from the chapel, so that we would be close to my parents. Since we have seen how this section is taken care of, we sold them and bought four more at St. John’s in Coitsville. They take excellent care of their graves, and I am proud to say that this is where I will spend my eternity.

I hope the Diocese does something about these stones.

Geri Marino, Coitsville