5 days ago
He Was Lost. Could He Find Himself in a Shoot House?
Kyle Hay thought he had no one to save.
In his hands was a 9-millimeter carbine. In front of him was a labyrinth of targets and corridors he'd have to maneuver through as part of the firearms training course he hoped would add something to his life beyond the mundane day-to-day. He shifted his weight. An instructor, trying to provide direction, asked his question again:
Who in this scenario are you fighting to rescue? Your wife? Girlfriend?
Mr. Hay, 37, had spent his adult life wrestling with some version of that question: Who, or what, in his life was worth risking it all for?
After nearly a decade working as an occupational therapist, a divorce, cross-country moves and hobbies that offered only fleeting escapes from his day job, Mr. Hay was reckoning with how to define himself as he approached middle age. That's how he found himself, carbine in hand, racking his brain to think of a human he would be desperate to save in this fictional scenario.
Quiet, with an easygoing gait and a mop of brown hair tucked under a ball cap, Mr. Hay stood just inside the entrance of a shoot house, a live-fire range modeled after a home. The exercise would train participants on what to do in case they confronted an armed intruder — an existential worry on the minds of those who had signed up. It was the final day of a rifle course at Thunder Ranch, a firearms skills training outfit in eastern Oregon. The sun was out and snow melted on the surrounding hills. Spotted clouds touched the horizon.
Thunder Ranch is where you go to understand close combat with a rifle. But after three days and close to 1,000 spent rounds of ammunition, it was clear that for Mr. Hay, shooting was less of an educational opportunity and more of a realization that he still needed something more.
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