Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84Plough Quarterly • Autumn 2016 49 I Wanted to Die  Eleven years ago, a twenty-seven-year-old unemployed military veteran named Benjamin L. Corey was “broke, alone, divorcing, and about as clinically depressed as a person could get.” He saw no reason to go on living, so he loaded his Smith & Wesson .22 and tried to work up courage to pull the trigger. On a quick run to the store to “grab something to drink and take the edge off before coming home to finish the job once and for all,” he silently told God, “If you really love me, I need to know right now.” In the store, a passing stranger put a note in his hand that saved his life (a story he recounts in detail on his Patheos blog). Last summer Corey planted a garden with a tool made from his .22. Suicide accounts for more than 60 percent of gun violence, and about 85 percent of those deaths are white males. Afterward, the family is often left wondering what to do with the gun. When Kevin Wilder was eight years old, his father shot himself. Forty years later, Wilder donated the gun to RAWtools. “I’ve had the gun all this time,” he said. “I couldn’t give it to somebody else.” Photos courtesy of Benjamin L. Corey The note that saved Benjamin Corey’s life