Alleged gunman & child shot during Secret Service gunfight near White House

It’s a dangerous world, and today it was dangerous right on the doorstep of the executive mansion at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

A man with a gun, a hail of Secret Service bullets, and a 15-year-old boy on his way to see the sights, all tangled up together in a bloody, chaotic mess just south of the White House.

That’s the story. And like most stories involving stray lead and official statements, it stinks worse than low tide on the Mississippi.

Here’s what we’re told. Around 3:30, federal agents spot a fellow who “appeared” to be carrying a weapon.

They approach him. Next thing you know, the intersection of 15th and Independence sounds like the Fourth of July, only with less apple pie and more screaming.

The suspect is down, ventilated in multiple places. And some kid, some poor kid just existing in a public space, catches a bullet too.

A graze, they say. Non-life-threatening. Well, that’s a comfort. I’m sure his mother is sleeping like a baby tonight.

Now, here’s where the tale takes a turn for the farcical.

The Secret Service’s own man, one Chris McDonald, sends a nice little email to Congress assuring everyone that President Trump was never in any danger. No nexus to the White House, he says. No indication this fella was targeting anyone in the executive complex.

So let’s get this straight: The President’s personal bodyguards shot a man to pieces, wounded a child, on a public street swarming with tourists, and the best they can say is, “Don’t worry, the boss was fine”?

That’s not a security briefing. That’s an admission of random, pointless violence.

And the vice president? JD Vance’s motorcade had just rolled through that very spot. Just before. He was safe too, of course.

Probably in some other zip code by the time the shooting started. But you don’t have to be a cynic to see the pattern: official vehicles come and go, and the folks left standing on the sidewalk are the ones who pay the price.

Then there’s the official dodge about the boy. Deputy Director Matt Quinn first says investigators think the gunman shot the kid.

But then, when pressed, he hedges. “We’ll let the doctors figure that out,” he says. Doctors figure out who shot whom?

That’s a strange thing for a lawman to say. Usually, that’s a job for ballistics and common sense. It reads like a man leaving himself a back door. If it turns out the kid was hit by a federal bullet, well, don’t look at him. Ask the surgeons.

Less than a week ago, the Trump administration announced plans to unwind a few more sensible gun rules.

They call it a “sweeping rollback.” Gun control folks call it misguided and dangerous. You can take your pick which side has the better ring of truth.

The acting attorney general, a fellow named Todd Blanche, stood up at a news conference and swore up and down that nothing they’re doing weakens law enforcement.

Well, sir, that’s a mighty curious definition of strength.

Thirty-four changes to federal gun regulations, all in one go. And they took a moment to welcome the new director of the ATF, Robert Cekada, as if that makes it all feel better.

The headline act?

Getting rid of a 2024 Biden-era rule that tried to shut down what folks call the “gun show loophole.”

That’s the one where unlicensed dealers can sell a firearm to a perfect stranger without running a background check. No questions asked, no record kept, just a handshake and a handgun. That’s the loophole they’re tossing overboard.

While they were at it, they scrapped a 2023 rule about pistol braces. Those are the little attachments that turn a handgun into something you can brace against your shoulder like a rifle. Because a pistol that acts like a rifle is apparently a freedom worth protecting.

Never mind that a federal court had already struck down that rule anyway. So they’re not just rolling back the rule; they’re rolling back a corpse. That’s efficiency for you.

The administration says it’s all legal and proper. The sanity advocates say it’ll get people killed.

Somewhere in the middle, the rest of us are left to wonder: when the next armed man shows up near the White House, or the next school, or the next grocery store, will anyone bother to ask whether that gun came through a loophole you could drive a truck through?

The answer, friends, is blowing in a very predictable ill wind.

So here you have it.

A busy afternoon. A man with a gun in the United States,  where there are more firearms than people.

A burst of fire. An innocent child bleeding. A firearm recovered. No lawmen hurt, naturally. And a whole lot of weasel words about “nexus” and “appearances.”

The lesson, as old as the Republic and twice as tired, is that when the powerful get nervous, the ordinary get shot.

The White House stands untouched. The machinery of state grinds on. And somewhere tonight, a 15-year-old boy is lying in a hospital bed, wondering what in the wide, wide world of sports just happened to him.

The only honest answer is that nobody in charge seems entirely sure. And that should scare you more than any armed man on a sidewalk.