08-05-2011, 01:01 AM
Faldt lige over denne:
Ten years ago last fall, Richard Barber made a promise to his son.
Nine-year-old Gus had just died after being hit by a bullet fired from the rifle his mother was in the process of unloading during a family hunting trip in southwest Montana's Gravelly Mountains.
The rifle was a Remington 700 -- one of the most popular hunting rifles in the country.
Barbara Barber said her finger never touched the trigger when she pointed the rifle away from her family and toward an empty horse trailer. She was positive the rifle fired when she released the safety mechanism.
Tragically, Gus had run to other side of the trailer and into the path of the bullet.
Before the family had a chance to bury their son, the sheriff's office started getting calls from people asking about the model of the rifle after the tragic story found its way into the local press.
One of those callers sent Richard Barber a copy of a 1994 Business Week article that outlined legal challenges Remington was facing from consumers complaining their rifles had fired without them touching the trigger.
Within a couple of days, he started hearing from others about their own similar mishaps with the Remington rifle.
"I was pretty unnerved at that point," he remembered.
Barber contacted Richard Miller, the Missouri lawyer who represented a Texas man who lost a foot after a Remington 700 inadvertently discharged. In that case, Remington was ordered to pay $17 million, including $15 million in punitive damages -- following a six-week trial detailed in the Business Week article.
"The first thing that the lawyer asked me was did Barbara have any cuts (from the trigger guard) on her trigger finger," Barber said. "When I said no, Richard Miller said he believed me."
That same day, Barber went to the funeral home to retrieve his son's pocket knife.
"I promised Gus that day that this was going to end here and now. I told him that I would never be bought and that I would never quit.
"I always keep a promise," he said.
Barber had no idea where that promise would lead.
...
Last October, CNBC aired the documentary "Remington Under Fire."
The program's producers used internal company documents and interviews to suggest that Remington had been aware of potential safety problems with the popular rifle for more than 60 years.
Many of those documents came from the large archive that Barber has gathered in his decadelong search to uncover the truth about the history of the rifle.
"There's not much that happens on this issue that I don't know about any more," Barber said from his home in Manhattan. "I get phone calls all the time from people with news or additional information that they want to share."
Rows of filing cabinets filled with documents gathered from sources all around the country line the office space where Barber spends long hours studying decades-old internal Remington documents and court depositions before carefully filing them away.
Photographs of his family and Gus hang on the walls.
A mud-splattered folder holds more than 200 cards and letters he received from people following Gus' death offering encouragement. Some included their own accounts of close calls with the rifle.
The folder had fallen in the mud when CNBC producers were filming the documentary.
"That was upsetting," Barber remembered.
By his count, his archive contains more than a million documents and it's still growing.
It includes drawers filled with customer complaints to Remington and internal documents from company employees who designed, tested and approved the trigger system in the Model 700.
"It's a painstakingly slow process to go through them one by one," he said. "At first, I thought I would find the truth somewhere in the middle. For a time, I was even leaning in Remington's favor.
"I'm of the opinion now, that no matter how you slice it or dice it, this is real and this is dangerous. Unless something meaningful happens, these things will be killing our grandchildren's grandchildren."
The documents come to Barber through a number of different sources. At his own expense, he travels the country picking up box loads.
One trip alone, he spent about $3,000 to cover 4,500 miles in five days to pick up a horse trailer filled with boxes of documents from several different sources.
"Like any good investigator, I have developed relationships with people, who in turn give me the documents," he said.
Some of the people are older and no longer have any use for the papers, but they don't want to see the information lost.
"I have come to be referred to as the custodian of the Remington documents," Barber said. "The resources that I have developed over the years are very, very credible."
In a statement following the documentary, Remington said CNBC sensationalized accidents and took the documents out of context to "smear" the company, its employees and the "iconic" Model 700. The company said CNBC "turned a blind eye" to facts provided by Remington.
...
Remington has always contended their Model 700 is safe, reliable and accurate. The company says it is the most trusted bolt-action rifle in the world.
Over a 50-year span, the company claims it has produced more than 5 million copies of the firearm that has long been the choice of elite shooters from the military and law enforcement communities.
"The men and women who build, own and shoot the Remington Model 700 take great pride in a product that, over the last half century, has set the bar for safety, reliability and performance," Remington said in its official statement to CNBC.
Remington's media office did not return phone calls about this story.
Remington maintains accidents with the Remington Model 700 are the result of either unsafe gun handling, improper maintenance of the weapon or inappropriate alterations made by the gun owner.
"Both Remington and experts hired by plaintiff attorneys have conducted testing on guns returned from the field without a trigger pull, and neither has ever been able to duplicate such an event on guns that have been properly maintained and which had not be altered after sale," said the company's statement.
Remington said if every gun owner followed rules outlined in the "Ten Commandments of Firearm Safety," then no accidental injuries would ever occur.
The commandments include the basic gun safety rule of always keeping your rifle's muzzle pointed in a safe direction. They also state, "Don't rely on your gun's safety."
The problem is, Barber said, "people start with the presumption that a rifle won't fire unless you pull the trigger."
...
In 2007, Bitterroot Valley residents Jerry Shook and Steve Burson were elk hunting in the West Fork of the Bitterroot.
The men rode horse back to their hunting area where Burson dismounted with his Remington 700 Series rifle to hunt on foot while Shook followed behind with the two horses.
When the two met again, Shook dismounted and stood between the horses while his friend prepared to unload his rifle before putting it into the scabbard of his saddle.
Burson's rifle required that the safety be taken off before it could be unloaded. He aimed the rifle into the air in preparation for ejecting the shells. When he took the safety off, the rifle fired, said court documents filed in the case.
The two horses spooked. Shook was caught in between them. He was knocked to the ground. One horse stepped on Shook's head and fractured his skull.
Shook and his wife, Jeanette, of Darby, sued Remington, saying he had been permanently affected by his injury. The case was later settled and under the terms of a confidentiality agreement, neither the Shooks or their attorney, Howard Toole of Missoula, are allowed to talk about negotiations, terms or amounts in case.
In the lawsuit, Toole said the couple alleged that Remington had known for years that its rifle could inadvertently discharge when the safety is flipped off.
"They didn't take any corrective action for years and years and years," Toole said.
In researching the case, Toole said he learned that Remington defended many of its cases by claiming that gun users were at fault when the rifles fired. The company often claimed the trigger must have been touched after the safety was released.
"That really wasn't much of a factor in this case," Toole said. "No one got shot. The gun was safely being handled. The barrel was pointed in the air. The shooter was experienced: a middle-aged adult with an outfitter's license.
"Remington had no real reason to think that he had touched the trigger. The rifle fired instantly at the moment the safety was taken off. It's what the Remington Model 700 can do and does. That's well understood."
Jerry Shook wasn't even all that close when the rifle fired, but he nearly died, Toole said.
"Remington really had no one else to point the finger at in this case," he said.
The case was eye-opening for Toole.
He learned that Remington has refused to acknowledge a design flaw in its product that has injured people for years. It never offered a recall, nor a major redesign after the company became aware of the safety issue, Toole said.
"Most companies can face the need to make a change in a dangerous product," Toole said. "Remington didn't.
"Part of their approach to this whole question is they don't admit a need to change it," he said. "They don't admit the clear danger that it presents. They don't admit that an inadvertent firing has occurred."
The case left Jeanette Shook disgruntled.
"I don't like their lawyers and I don't like Remington," Jeanette Shook said. "They use all kinds of tactics to keep you quiet. They let you know what could happen if you talk about your case.
"There is supposed to be freedom of speech in this country. They put gag clauses on you and you don't have freedom of speech any more."
Jerry Shook will live with a disability for the rest of his life because of the accident.
"Sometimes he does well and sometimes he does not," she said. "One of his doctors told us that he shouldn't even be alive."
His hunting partner was incredibly upset following the accident.
"We told him that he did nothing wrong. We said it was the rifle, Steve. He didn't know anything about it. He had never heard that were problems. Most people haven't.
"Since it was publicized, you can't believe the number of people who have called us. They all say: I hope you can do something. It's hard to go up against a big company with lots of lawyers."
...
At the heart of the controversy is a mechanism called a "trigger connector" that was part of a firing mechanism originally patented by Remington engineer Mike Walker in 1950.
The connector is a piece of metal that is mounted on a spring inside the firing mechanism. It is located between the trigger and the metal bar that holds back the firing pin. The metal bar is called the sear.
The trigger connector was designed to smooth out the action of the trigger. It was considered a breakthrough in firearm design because it allowed for a smooth, crisp action at a good price.
Remington maintains that the firing mechanism is safe.
Critics claim that debris or small amounts of rust or a jolt to the rifle can knock the connector out of alignment, which in turn separates the trigger from the firing mechanism. They allege that when that happens, the rifle can fire when the safety or the bolt is operated.
Internal Remington documents in Barber's archive show that Walker proposed a change in his original design to add a mechanism called a trigger block that would have kept the trigger and connector in place when the safety was on.
In 1948, the company's documents indicate the cost for the trigger block would have been an extra 5 1/2 cents per rifle.
Barber's archive includes documents that he believes shows that Walker warned about a "theoretical unsafe condition" involving the gun's safety as early as Dec. 3, 1946.
His archive includes file drawers filled with customer complaints about Remington 700s going off with the trigger being pulled. The company contends that each inadvertent discharge was the result of user error.
A 1975 document showed the company was able to duplicate the fire control problems on a Remington 700 that was returned to the company.
The list goes on and on.
"I'm continually tormented about what to do with all this information," Barber said. "I feel that if I don't do my job, then people die.
"At this point, it's almost unbelievable to me. I know that I'm faced with a credibility issue. Who are people supposed to believe: The oldest gun manufacturer in the U.S. or lowly Richard Barber whose son is dead and has an axe to grind?"
Barber knows that he faces financial risk or other forms of retaliation.
"Don't think that I don't lose sleep over that," he said. "I let the documents speak for themselves ... I want to stay away from the 'he said, she said' kind of thing. The documents are where the tires hit the pavement."
...
Barber and his family have paid a price for his continued investigation.
Barber sold his successful concrete company and his rental properties to keep money coming in the door as his focus narrowed on learning everything he could about Remington. He endured hate mail and nasty phone calls from people who were convinced he was on an anti-gun crusade.
"This has never been an anti-gun issue," he said "I literally handle a firearm every single day. This has always been a gun safety issue."
For the past five years, Barber has been participating in precision, long-range unknown distance shooting competitions where targets are placed more than a mile away.
With its need for absolute focus, the long-range shooting proved to be a good distraction at times from facts and figures constantly swirling around his mind on the Remington issue.
"It became like a fixation for me," he said. "For a long time, it was all I could think about. Instead of going to work, this became my obsession. All I wanted was to know the truth.
"My daughter didn't have a father. My wife didn't have a companion, someone to talk to. All of this has been a horrendous inconvenience. It has bit into my life.
"I never asked for any of this. I didn't want any of this."
Over the past decade, Barber has been successful in bringing about change.
In 2002, Remington offered a safety modification program that removed a bolt-lock feature on pre-1982 Remington 700s and other rifle models in direct response to Gus' death.
Before the modification, those models required the safety to be in the "on" position before the gun was unloaded. Gus' mother was carrying a rifle with that feature, which fired when she took the safety off.
In 2005, the Gus Barber Antisecrecy Act was signed into law in Montana. The legislation prevents courts from sealing information about potentially defective or dangerous consumer products following lawsuits in state courts.
Barber pushed for the legislation for four years through two legislative sessions.
In 2007, Remington introduced a new firing mechanism for the Model 700 that eliminated the trigger connector.
And then last October, Barber saw many of the documents that he had collected used in a nationally televised program.
At this point, there is no turning back for Barber.
"I believe in accountability," he said. "I believe we are obligated to do something to protect others . If I don't do that, would I be judged by God for what I knew and what I didn't do?"
"That question eats me alive every day," Barber said.
After 11 years, Barber said he still doesn't have all the pieces to the puzzle.
"I'm compelled to keep looking," he said. "I feel I owe that to the public. It's a sense of duty to serve and protect others."
Chanda Barbara was 13 years old when her brother died. She watched her family struggle ever since.
"There has been a lot of sacrifice on the part of my family since then," she said. "It's definitely taken a toll. It's like we're between a rock and hard place or that pebble in the shoe kind of thing."
Her father's years of researching Remington served as a constant reminder of the accident for her mother. And he wasn't there for a lot of her activities through those important teenage years.
Has it all been worth it?
"I think so," she said. "I'm really proud of him. If my dad doesn't finish this, I will. I'm going to law school and I will finish this if he can't. They messed with the wrong family."
...
"I'm getting balance back into my life now," Barber said recently. "My daughter comes first now. I'm so proud of her."
Barber said he plans to continue to search for the facts that he hopes will eventually lead to the truth.
"As an educator, you have to educate yourself first," he said. "But this isn't my life anymore. It's just what I do."
After all, there is a promise made that needs to be kept.
"Nobody, I mean nobody should have to pay that price," Barber said. "Gus was the bravest person that I've ever known. His death wasn't quick. He suffered, but he never quit and he never cried.
"How could I ever deny that?"
http://billingsgazette.com/news/state ... 25-a6ef-ad5c4b3751ed.html
[center][/center]
Assumption is the mother of all ****ups... and anything is possible if you don't know what you are talking about.
Ten years ago last fall, Richard Barber made a promise to his son.
Nine-year-old Gus had just died after being hit by a bullet fired from the rifle his mother was in the process of unloading during a family hunting trip in southwest Montana's Gravelly Mountains.
The rifle was a Remington 700 -- one of the most popular hunting rifles in the country.
Barbara Barber said her finger never touched the trigger when she pointed the rifle away from her family and toward an empty horse trailer. She was positive the rifle fired when she released the safety mechanism.
Tragically, Gus had run to other side of the trailer and into the path of the bullet.
Before the family had a chance to bury their son, the sheriff's office started getting calls from people asking about the model of the rifle after the tragic story found its way into the local press.
One of those callers sent Richard Barber a copy of a 1994 Business Week article that outlined legal challenges Remington was facing from consumers complaining their rifles had fired without them touching the trigger.
Within a couple of days, he started hearing from others about their own similar mishaps with the Remington rifle.
"I was pretty unnerved at that point," he remembered.
Barber contacted Richard Miller, the Missouri lawyer who represented a Texas man who lost a foot after a Remington 700 inadvertently discharged. In that case, Remington was ordered to pay $17 million, including $15 million in punitive damages -- following a six-week trial detailed in the Business Week article.
"The first thing that the lawyer asked me was did Barbara have any cuts (from the trigger guard) on her trigger finger," Barber said. "When I said no, Richard Miller said he believed me."
That same day, Barber went to the funeral home to retrieve his son's pocket knife.
"I promised Gus that day that this was going to end here and now. I told him that I would never be bought and that I would never quit.
"I always keep a promise," he said.
Barber had no idea where that promise would lead.
...
Last October, CNBC aired the documentary "Remington Under Fire."
The program's producers used internal company documents and interviews to suggest that Remington had been aware of potential safety problems with the popular rifle for more than 60 years.
Many of those documents came from the large archive that Barber has gathered in his decadelong search to uncover the truth about the history of the rifle.
"There's not much that happens on this issue that I don't know about any more," Barber said from his home in Manhattan. "I get phone calls all the time from people with news or additional information that they want to share."
Rows of filing cabinets filled with documents gathered from sources all around the country line the office space where Barber spends long hours studying decades-old internal Remington documents and court depositions before carefully filing them away.
Photographs of his family and Gus hang on the walls.
A mud-splattered folder holds more than 200 cards and letters he received from people following Gus' death offering encouragement. Some included their own accounts of close calls with the rifle.
The folder had fallen in the mud when CNBC producers were filming the documentary.
"That was upsetting," Barber remembered.
By his count, his archive contains more than a million documents and it's still growing.
It includes drawers filled with customer complaints to Remington and internal documents from company employees who designed, tested and approved the trigger system in the Model 700.
"It's a painstakingly slow process to go through them one by one," he said. "At first, I thought I would find the truth somewhere in the middle. For a time, I was even leaning in Remington's favor.
"I'm of the opinion now, that no matter how you slice it or dice it, this is real and this is dangerous. Unless something meaningful happens, these things will be killing our grandchildren's grandchildren."
The documents come to Barber through a number of different sources. At his own expense, he travels the country picking up box loads.
One trip alone, he spent about $3,000 to cover 4,500 miles in five days to pick up a horse trailer filled with boxes of documents from several different sources.
"Like any good investigator, I have developed relationships with people, who in turn give me the documents," he said.
Some of the people are older and no longer have any use for the papers, but they don't want to see the information lost.
"I have come to be referred to as the custodian of the Remington documents," Barber said. "The resources that I have developed over the years are very, very credible."
In a statement following the documentary, Remington said CNBC sensationalized accidents and took the documents out of context to "smear" the company, its employees and the "iconic" Model 700. The company said CNBC "turned a blind eye" to facts provided by Remington.
...
Remington has always contended their Model 700 is safe, reliable and accurate. The company says it is the most trusted bolt-action rifle in the world.
Over a 50-year span, the company claims it has produced more than 5 million copies of the firearm that has long been the choice of elite shooters from the military and law enforcement communities.
"The men and women who build, own and shoot the Remington Model 700 take great pride in a product that, over the last half century, has set the bar for safety, reliability and performance," Remington said in its official statement to CNBC.
Remington's media office did not return phone calls about this story.
Remington maintains accidents with the Remington Model 700 are the result of either unsafe gun handling, improper maintenance of the weapon or inappropriate alterations made by the gun owner.
"Both Remington and experts hired by plaintiff attorneys have conducted testing on guns returned from the field without a trigger pull, and neither has ever been able to duplicate such an event on guns that have been properly maintained and which had not be altered after sale," said the company's statement.
Remington said if every gun owner followed rules outlined in the "Ten Commandments of Firearm Safety," then no accidental injuries would ever occur.
The commandments include the basic gun safety rule of always keeping your rifle's muzzle pointed in a safe direction. They also state, "Don't rely on your gun's safety."
The problem is, Barber said, "people start with the presumption that a rifle won't fire unless you pull the trigger."
...
In 2007, Bitterroot Valley residents Jerry Shook and Steve Burson were elk hunting in the West Fork of the Bitterroot.
The men rode horse back to their hunting area where Burson dismounted with his Remington 700 Series rifle to hunt on foot while Shook followed behind with the two horses.
When the two met again, Shook dismounted and stood between the horses while his friend prepared to unload his rifle before putting it into the scabbard of his saddle.
Burson's rifle required that the safety be taken off before it could be unloaded. He aimed the rifle into the air in preparation for ejecting the shells. When he took the safety off, the rifle fired, said court documents filed in the case.
The two horses spooked. Shook was caught in between them. He was knocked to the ground. One horse stepped on Shook's head and fractured his skull.
Shook and his wife, Jeanette, of Darby, sued Remington, saying he had been permanently affected by his injury. The case was later settled and under the terms of a confidentiality agreement, neither the Shooks or their attorney, Howard Toole of Missoula, are allowed to talk about negotiations, terms or amounts in case.
In the lawsuit, Toole said the couple alleged that Remington had known for years that its rifle could inadvertently discharge when the safety is flipped off.
"They didn't take any corrective action for years and years and years," Toole said.
In researching the case, Toole said he learned that Remington defended many of its cases by claiming that gun users were at fault when the rifles fired. The company often claimed the trigger must have been touched after the safety was released.
"That really wasn't much of a factor in this case," Toole said. "No one got shot. The gun was safely being handled. The barrel was pointed in the air. The shooter was experienced: a middle-aged adult with an outfitter's license.
"Remington had no real reason to think that he had touched the trigger. The rifle fired instantly at the moment the safety was taken off. It's what the Remington Model 700 can do and does. That's well understood."
Jerry Shook wasn't even all that close when the rifle fired, but he nearly died, Toole said.
"Remington really had no one else to point the finger at in this case," he said.
The case was eye-opening for Toole.
He learned that Remington has refused to acknowledge a design flaw in its product that has injured people for years. It never offered a recall, nor a major redesign after the company became aware of the safety issue, Toole said.
"Most companies can face the need to make a change in a dangerous product," Toole said. "Remington didn't.
"Part of their approach to this whole question is they don't admit a need to change it," he said. "They don't admit the clear danger that it presents. They don't admit that an inadvertent firing has occurred."
The case left Jeanette Shook disgruntled.
"I don't like their lawyers and I don't like Remington," Jeanette Shook said. "They use all kinds of tactics to keep you quiet. They let you know what could happen if you talk about your case.
"There is supposed to be freedom of speech in this country. They put gag clauses on you and you don't have freedom of speech any more."
Jerry Shook will live with a disability for the rest of his life because of the accident.
"Sometimes he does well and sometimes he does not," she said. "One of his doctors told us that he shouldn't even be alive."
His hunting partner was incredibly upset following the accident.
"We told him that he did nothing wrong. We said it was the rifle, Steve. He didn't know anything about it. He had never heard that were problems. Most people haven't.
"Since it was publicized, you can't believe the number of people who have called us. They all say: I hope you can do something. It's hard to go up against a big company with lots of lawyers."
...
At the heart of the controversy is a mechanism called a "trigger connector" that was part of a firing mechanism originally patented by Remington engineer Mike Walker in 1950.
The connector is a piece of metal that is mounted on a spring inside the firing mechanism. It is located between the trigger and the metal bar that holds back the firing pin. The metal bar is called the sear.
The trigger connector was designed to smooth out the action of the trigger. It was considered a breakthrough in firearm design because it allowed for a smooth, crisp action at a good price.
Remington maintains that the firing mechanism is safe.
Critics claim that debris or small amounts of rust or a jolt to the rifle can knock the connector out of alignment, which in turn separates the trigger from the firing mechanism. They allege that when that happens, the rifle can fire when the safety or the bolt is operated.
Internal Remington documents in Barber's archive show that Walker proposed a change in his original design to add a mechanism called a trigger block that would have kept the trigger and connector in place when the safety was on.
In 1948, the company's documents indicate the cost for the trigger block would have been an extra 5 1/2 cents per rifle.
Barber's archive includes documents that he believes shows that Walker warned about a "theoretical unsafe condition" involving the gun's safety as early as Dec. 3, 1946.
His archive includes file drawers filled with customer complaints about Remington 700s going off with the trigger being pulled. The company contends that each inadvertent discharge was the result of user error.
A 1975 document showed the company was able to duplicate the fire control problems on a Remington 700 that was returned to the company.
The list goes on and on.
"I'm continually tormented about what to do with all this information," Barber said. "I feel that if I don't do my job, then people die.
"At this point, it's almost unbelievable to me. I know that I'm faced with a credibility issue. Who are people supposed to believe: The oldest gun manufacturer in the U.S. or lowly Richard Barber whose son is dead and has an axe to grind?"
Barber knows that he faces financial risk or other forms of retaliation.
"Don't think that I don't lose sleep over that," he said. "I let the documents speak for themselves ... I want to stay away from the 'he said, she said' kind of thing. The documents are where the tires hit the pavement."
...
Barber and his family have paid a price for his continued investigation.
Barber sold his successful concrete company and his rental properties to keep money coming in the door as his focus narrowed on learning everything he could about Remington. He endured hate mail and nasty phone calls from people who were convinced he was on an anti-gun crusade.
"This has never been an anti-gun issue," he said "I literally handle a firearm every single day. This has always been a gun safety issue."
For the past five years, Barber has been participating in precision, long-range unknown distance shooting competitions where targets are placed more than a mile away.
With its need for absolute focus, the long-range shooting proved to be a good distraction at times from facts and figures constantly swirling around his mind on the Remington issue.
"It became like a fixation for me," he said. "For a long time, it was all I could think about. Instead of going to work, this became my obsession. All I wanted was to know the truth.
"My daughter didn't have a father. My wife didn't have a companion, someone to talk to. All of this has been a horrendous inconvenience. It has bit into my life.
"I never asked for any of this. I didn't want any of this."
Over the past decade, Barber has been successful in bringing about change.
In 2002, Remington offered a safety modification program that removed a bolt-lock feature on pre-1982 Remington 700s and other rifle models in direct response to Gus' death.
Before the modification, those models required the safety to be in the "on" position before the gun was unloaded. Gus' mother was carrying a rifle with that feature, which fired when she took the safety off.
In 2005, the Gus Barber Antisecrecy Act was signed into law in Montana. The legislation prevents courts from sealing information about potentially defective or dangerous consumer products following lawsuits in state courts.
Barber pushed for the legislation for four years through two legislative sessions.
In 2007, Remington introduced a new firing mechanism for the Model 700 that eliminated the trigger connector.
And then last October, Barber saw many of the documents that he had collected used in a nationally televised program.
At this point, there is no turning back for Barber.
"I believe in accountability," he said. "I believe we are obligated to do something to protect others . If I don't do that, would I be judged by God for what I knew and what I didn't do?"
"That question eats me alive every day," Barber said.
After 11 years, Barber said he still doesn't have all the pieces to the puzzle.
"I'm compelled to keep looking," he said. "I feel I owe that to the public. It's a sense of duty to serve and protect others."
Chanda Barbara was 13 years old when her brother died. She watched her family struggle ever since.
"There has been a lot of sacrifice on the part of my family since then," she said. "It's definitely taken a toll. It's like we're between a rock and hard place or that pebble in the shoe kind of thing."
Her father's years of researching Remington served as a constant reminder of the accident for her mother. And he wasn't there for a lot of her activities through those important teenage years.
Has it all been worth it?
"I think so," she said. "I'm really proud of him. If my dad doesn't finish this, I will. I'm going to law school and I will finish this if he can't. They messed with the wrong family."
...
"I'm getting balance back into my life now," Barber said recently. "My daughter comes first now. I'm so proud of her."
Barber said he plans to continue to search for the facts that he hopes will eventually lead to the truth.
"As an educator, you have to educate yourself first," he said. "But this isn't my life anymore. It's just what I do."
After all, there is a promise made that needs to be kept.
"Nobody, I mean nobody should have to pay that price," Barber said. "Gus was the bravest person that I've ever known. His death wasn't quick. He suffered, but he never quit and he never cried.
"How could I ever deny that?"
http://billingsgazette.com/news/state ... 25-a6ef-ad5c4b3751ed.html
[center][/center]
Assumption is the mother of all ****ups... and anything is possible if you don't know what you are talking about.