In Hobart, Indiana, 20-year-old Daniel Wright was planning to join the military, and he wanted to get some battlefield experience. He put on a flak jacket, and he told his friends, “Shoot me. I’m ready.” The coroner said the 20 gauge plastic cartridge pierced Wright’s chest, and some of the shotgun pellets ripped into his heart. The vest was not designed to stop bullets. The friend who shot him stands charged with reckless homicide, and two others are charged with assisting the shooter with concealing the homicide (they initially told the police Wright was shot outside a liquor store.) http://www.insightbb.com/external/search.asp?q=shot+daniel+wright&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2Fsearch&btnG.x=36&btnG.y=12
This year’s Darwin Award might just be sewn up. :smack:
Death is never completely funny, but I can’t help thinking the story would have been improved if the dumbass put on the jacket and the other dumbass shot him in the head.
This exact same thing happened to my friend only it was ‘stabproof’ and with a knife. He barely lived, but hes 100% now and has a huge scar down his stomach.
Doh! The male urge to test and push equipment to the max. Why do they even let us have things like electronics, bulletproof vests, gasoline engines and nuclear weapons? Women: get your collective act together and take this shit away from us! Don’t you know we can’t be trusted?
We often make fun of warning labels, but Daniel Wright really should have read the one on his flak jacket. “Hey, wait a minute, guys! It says here this thing won’t stop bullets!” :smack:
I always feel bad for the families in these situations. The Darwin Award nominee can’t hear the mocking but the family can. They have to be wavering somewhere between anger and grief on a permanent basis. I imagine that they wish he were still alive so they could smack him upside the head for being so stupid.
How did it never occur to either of these guys that testing the jacket out first on something like, oh, an old clothing mannequin, would be a good idea?
I once (almost) test-piloted a new glider I had built. The fuselage was made from a packing crate, the wings a long piece of wall paneling nailed to the bottom of the crate.
On top of a 10 foot high shed, I put the glider near the edge and feeling proud, I decided at the last minute to demand the attention of anyone nearby.
One bystander (the only one–busy cooking in the kitchen) suggested that I try flying the glider *un-manned * before I actually piloted the thing myself. I thought, well, that’s not much fun but what could it hurt?
I pushed the glider off the edge of the shed roof and watched it fly
straight to the ground and break apart.
uh oh-- that might have hurt a little.
Thanks mom, for suggesting the dry run.
I was about 6 years old at the time. The flak-jacket dude was 20.
