How to get your guns into New York City
“Why do you need your guns in New York City?” the woman asked. We were deep in conversation about violence at a friends Christmas party in Ditmas Park, Brooklyn.
My response was succinct “Because it’s where I live”. The conversation continued without pause following the violence narrative, my comment lost in the tirade. Living in the city I frequently encounter a clash of cultures between the urban and the rural. I guess I’m working on trying to be somewhat of a bridge.
As a hunter who lives in New York City I needed to find a place to store my firearms. I didn’t have the luxury of affording a home in New York City and also owning a second home outside the city to store my firearms (or rather a home at all). I’m solidly middle class. When I first got to New York I did some research on how to lawfully possess firearms. It seemed like a mountain to climb — but I’ve climbed plenty of mountains in my life ( here’s a shameless plug if you want to climb mountains with me). I was up for the challenge.
New York City is not known for its favorable view towards gun owners. In fact, it is one of the most strict areas in the country.
I began my research with the Google. I found most of the searches for pistols, gun laws and concealed carry permits. It was not easy to find something for long guns. Guess I should have known there would be different permits for different types of guns.
The search took me to a small text enthralled page with a significant amount of information that I found a bit overwhelming. Eventually I found the holy grail of gun control- an application for the chance to exercise your 2nd amendment right according to the New York City government. I have the right to bear arms, except in NYC. You have to get a permit to exercise your right. I wonder what would happen if I had to get a permit to exercise my 5th amendment right.
She asks a different way a bit in disbelief “You live here but do you have to have your guns here? I mean I get it I’m from Texas so I understand where you’re coming from but why have them New York?” I’m not sure I understood here but I guess what is implied is that if you have guns you shouldn’t want to live in New York City.
I pulled out the application and began to fill it out. At the time I was living in downtown Manhattan and I had seven roommates. On one of the pages in the application there is a requirement for the people that you live with to sign an affidavit that they agree to allow firearms to be in their abode as well. After reading this page I was sure of the impossibility of me having guns in New York. What were the chances of me convincing all of them? Sadly, I gave up before I started.
“Well it’s not your guns that were worried about” she said. “ We’re trying to keep guns out of the wrong persons hands.”
I guess that statement made sense. Let’s keep the guns out of the wrong people’s hands. There’s nothing like the wrong guns in the wrong person’s hands. Keep the guns away from the bad people.
I reflected later on. What about me makes it ok that I have guns but other people not? I’m a white male. Squeaky clean record. College Graduate. My dad was in the military and my mother a homemaker. I’m a Son of the American Revolution and I’m a foodie. Perhaps my characteristics provide a sense of peace to authority figures around me? I’m not entirely sure who the wrong people are. I understand that security is a power problem and anyone with a gun has power over anyone who doesn’t have gun. I’m caught in a political problem that I didn’t ask to be in.
My quest for possession didn’t come until after I had moved out of the village and into a larger space. Once I was no longer with seven roommates it became possible to get my permit.
After filing out my application I was directed to go to an office somewhere in Queens. I walked down to a small room through hallways with multi-colored pipes adorning the ceiling. The traverse through this government building for the licensing office is indicative of the place reserved for someone your parents force you to invite to the party. They are there but everyone resents their presence.
Upon my arrival I tell the clerk that I’m here to apply for the Rifle and Shotgun permit. I then proceed to wait on a bench for the next half hour while they do whatever it is they do. I proceed to get fingerprinted (I guess this is how criminals feel?) and submit the application. This part of the process was fairly easy and straightforward.
After my submission it took me about 3–4 weeks to receive an approval for my permit. I had some people tell me it would take nine months. Others said you’ll never hear back. All I can do is to tell my experience. It seemed relatively quick. To this date — I am one of less than ten people I know that has one of these permits.
Basically to get your long guns in New York City:
- Be 21+
- Never commit a crime
- Get fingerprinted
- Pay 250+ dollars
- File your birth certificate, original social security card, and all of your PII
- Prove that you live in NYC
- Know the firearms laws of the city as well or better than the NYPD (This is a behemoth)
After all of this — congratulations you are permitted to carry long guns in New York City.* All you have to do now is register each individual firearm and you are set!**
*Please note that if you are a rifle and shotgun permittee, you many only register one firearm every 90 days in New York City. Please see rules on registering your firearms.
**Not valid with any other purchases. Please make sure to do three jumping jacks before returning your registration form. Only carry your registration form on odd days of the month except in months that have three or more letters in which case only carry on the even days. Never carry your forms on the 5th day of the week in which case, you may spend up to three years in jail and you will be presumed to be guilty until proven innocent. (This is poking fun but actually happens when people cross state lines and don’t know the local/state laws for possession unless they invoke federal law vis-a-vis the interstate transportation of firearms)
The Christmas party finally came to a close and we smiled after having another beer. I told the woman that I enjoyed our conversation. I appreciated hearing her point of view and conceded on a few well articulated comments. It’s what makes our country great — the fact that I can disagree with you and vice versa while not actively killing each other.
That’s something we can all agree upon, right?
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