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President Donald Trump

Would Donald Trump Charge the School Shooter?

I think not.

In the wake of the latest school shooting in Florida, it was discovered that an armed sheriff’s deputy on duty outside the school did not enter into the school at the sound of gunshots When President Trump heard about this dereliction of duty, he immediately contrasted this “disgusting” behavior with the way he, himself, would have handled the situation had he been there. He would have immediately rushed into the school to save the children even if he were unarmed! Donald Trump is a man who has spent a lifetime studying his own behavior, but it is possible, some say, that he is mistaken People behave unpredictably when being shot at. Since the matter is entirely theoretical, the only way the issue may be resolved is by conducting what Albert Einstein called a “thought experiment.” We have to imagine ourselves inside the mind of Donald Trump and imagine him in this challenging situation.

Donald Trump finds himself in the parking lot of an elementary school where he has been scheduled to give a talk on the economy. It is 10 A.M Usually this is his “executive time,” when he is lying in bed in his pajamas, watching his favorite news show, “Fox and Friends.” He is, therefore, somewhat lethargic so early in the day. Suddenly, the sound of shots ring out, and his Secret Service guards knock him from the golf cart onto the tarmac. They spring upon him in order to cover his body with theirs. Immediately , with the quickness of mind for which he is famous, Donald recognizes that he is in the midst of a school shooting. He sheds his early morning torpor. He springs into action.

With an immense heave, he throws off his Secret Service guards. “Out of the way, boys,” he says, “I see my duty, and I am going to do it.” He ignores their protestations about the danger, silencing them with an authoritative wave of a hand. He looks to the school where a few bloodied children are running out, screaming.

“I hear you,” he says to the children, comforting them, reading from a cue card which he then throws to the ground.

Taking a deep breath, he stands up, putting himself further at risk; and he begins to run towards the school. Along the way he passes a number of “disgusting” police officers who are cowering behind a line of cars. He runs a somewhat zig-zag course to confuse the shooter. He runs so fast, the wind blows through the strands of his hair.

For just a moment he hesitates. He thinks his hair will probably never get back in place in time for the photographs of him standing on the body of the shooter; but he puts these thoughts out of mind.

Finally, he reaches the relative shelter of the door to the school. He hears the rat-a-tat sound of an assault weapon. Hundreds of shots a minute, he surmises. He stops to consider his strategy. He is a stable genius, but he wonders what other geniuses might do in this situation. What would Albert Einstein do, he wonders, conducting a thought experiment of his own. He wonders what the generals might do; but then, he reminds himself that he knows more than the generals. A stray bllet knocks against a nearby cornice, spraying small bits of cement over him.

Suddenly, from his vast knowledge of the Bible he remembers the story of the prophet Elisha who called to God to send down bears to attack his enemies and kill them. A rude gang, of kids, as it happened. Trump could appeal to God for help; but that is not Trump’s way. When he needs help, he consults with himself—which he stops to do.

“Luckily, I have the best reflexes of any U.S. President,” he thinks. “I will run between the shots.”

He enters the school and sees the shooter at the end of a long hallway. He steps over the body of a child and takes cover behind a soda machine.

He has only his bare hands to vanquish the shooter, his very small hands; but he is not deterred or frightened. He knows what he is capable of when he puts his mind to a task. He considers stepping out into the hallway and dominating the shooter by the sheer force of his personality. He knows he has the best words, but the words he wants to say to him, “All right, punk, make my day,” have been taken already.

Finally, he steps out in plain view and starts running towards the shooter. He has made his hands into two rock-like fists, taking care that his thumbs are not tucked under his other fingers. If you punch someone with your thumbs tucked in, you can break them. Using his brain, of which he is justly proud, to calculate the angles of the bullets ricocheting from the walls. He maps out a precise route past the bloody bodies lying all around. He listens to the barking sound of the shooter’s weapon as he gets closer and closer. He goes faster and faster when, suddenly, he feels a terrible, excruciating pain that starts in his foot and radiates up through his entire body and then back down to the other foot. He falls to the ground, helpless. He recognizes that it is the pain from his old physical disability, the bone spur, the problems that prevented his serving in Vietnam, thereby prolonging the end of the war by two full years….

It is at this point, where I think we may fairly conclude our thought experiment and recognize that Donald Trump[, no matter how optimistic he may feel about his ability to confront evil, would not run recklessly, unarmed, after a shooter armed with an assault weapon. His bone spur would not allow it. It doesn’t matter how good you are at making a deal, or how attractive you are to women you have just met in an elevator, there are constraints that cannot be overcome, a good example of which is the deadly bone spur. (c) Fredric Neuman, author of "The Wicked Son."

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