Real Guns

The town of Woodward (pop. 8,000) in the heart of northwest Oklahoma's wheat country is a quiet kind of place, typical of farming regions where elbowroom, sunshine and plenty of fresh air are as free as the wind in the fields. There, last week, Robert Smith, 12, and his brother David, 10, got home from Sunday school at the United Brethren Church, ate their lunch and set out together for the movies. On the way, Robert broke into a local surplus supply store, stole four .22-cal. pistols.

Later that afternoon, they showed up at the Open Air Market. Clerk Adrian Wilson stood behind a counter. Customer Ed Kenney was there. So was Owner Floyd Blair, who was repairing a friend's pistol. Asked Robert Smith: "Is that a real gun?" Replied Blair: "Yes."

Robert drew one of his stolen pistols. "I've got a real gun too," he said, "and I know how to use it." First, he jerked his thumb toward the cash register. Nobody moved. Then Robert fired. With scarcely a moment's pause, the boy shot all three men, killing Owner Blair, wounding Kenney and Wilson. Giving up the thought of robbery, the boys fled. David ran home, after firing his gun aimlessly in the street, and was found by police as he sat on his grandmother's lap, crying. Robert hid in an abandoned cotton gin, six blocks from the grocery. The police got him out by dropping tear gas into the building.

A few days later County Judge James G. Young ordered David sent to a boys' ranch for delinquent children. Robert, seemingly unperturbed after a good long cry, waited in the county jail. He was charged with murder. In the pleasant streets of Woodward, astonished grownups asked each other how such a thing could happen in their town.

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