I
T WAS THE EARLY FALL of 1994
when Rep. Dan Glickman (DKan.) got his first piece of
ominous news. An administrative aide in his district office reported an abnormal number
of angry letters from constituents
upset with his support for a ban
on the manufacturing of assault
weapons. Glickman sought counsel from his colleagues.
“We are trying to work it out,”
Rep. John Dingell (D-Mich.) told
him. “But it could be a problem
for you, Dan.”
It was a sobering, chilling statement. But Glickman largely dismissed it. After all, he had just
helped pass aviation jobs legislation that would be a boon for
his constituents.
“I just figured my services and
work on this aviation jobs bill,
good looks and funny mannerisms
would get me through,” he recalled
in an interview with The Huffington Post. “I thought I was an F-ing hero, to be honest with you.”
Instead, he became a cautionary tale for future lawmakers.
Despite 18 years of service, Glickman was ousted from his House
seat that November. His support
for the 1994 assault weapons ban
made him a political casualty of
the gun policy wars.
“I didn’t know I was in the epicenter of this controversy until I
started going door to door in my
district,” he said. “The NRA had
made this issue Armageddon.”
More than 18 years since that
watershed election, lawmakers are
once again entertaining the passage of an assault weapons ban.
“IT WAS THE MOST EMOTIONAL
VOTE I CAST IN 18 YEARS.”
The provision is just one of many
that President Barack Obama proposed this year as part of a comprehensive approach to stem the
recent increase in mass gun violence. But political observers have
already deemed it the most controversial, warning that it could
derail the entire package and even