RIFLES
Pawned And Gone
Getting financially stung by a stolen firearm isn't as far-fetched as it sounds.
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Facing an unexpected trip and short of cash, Hal Herring, an outdoor writer from Augusta, Montana, (and a friend of this writer) pawned a prized possession: his .308-caliber M1A rifle. A couple of months later Herring's wife went to the Montana pawnshop to redeem his rifle and was told local police had seized it as a stolen firearm.
That was news to Herring. He had bought the rifle from a Hamilton, Montana, gunshop in 1993. Once it had been pawned, though, the pawnshop owner ran the rifle's serial number through a national crime database, which flagged it as stolen from California in 1993. He contacted the Lewis and Clark County Sherrif's Department.
Herring can accept that the rifle was stolen. However, he argues, "The burden is on the police, if they seize private property, to prove there's been a theft." He's made numerous unsuccessful requests to the sheriff and district attorney for documentation proving that the rifle was stolen.
Sheriff's Detective Ray Potter says that while Herring's loss is unfortunate, "Ultimately, someone reported the rifle as stolen, and it was entered into the system. So when we had knowledge that it was a stolen gun, we had an obligation to seize [it]?"
Harold Dambrot, vice president of the National Pawnbroker's Association and a 30-year veteran of the pawnbroking industry, says the Brady Law requires all federal firearms license (FFL) holders to check serial numbers and contact police if a firearm has been reported stolen.
"Every time you give your gun over to any FFL, you run the risk of not getting it back," says Dambrot.
However, Dambrot adds, police usually don't use warrants to seize pawned guns. They take what he terms "an end-run around the Constitution" by asking for a gun they claim is stolen goods. "Most pawnbrokers consent, willingly or unwillingly," says Dambrot. "The alternative is to make an enemy out of your local police."
All that still leaves Herring holding the short end of the rifle. "It wasn't a tackdriver," says Herring, "but it was good shooter, and it had a lot of sentimental value." Now he's out the $500 he originally paid for it plus the $300 he repaid the pawnshop.
Adding insult to economic injury, when Herring called the district attorney and asked for proof that his M1A was hot, "He told me I had committed a felony simply by owning the rifle--I was lucky I wasn't being prosecuted."
