A father’s fight: Why I advocate for gun violence prevention

My mother Joyce killed herself with a firearm when I was 20 months old. I do not remember her. I do not have a single memory of her voice, her face, the way she held me. What I have is her absence, and the way that absence shaped everything that came after.

I spent most of my life not talking about it. In my twenties and thirties, I built companies, raised kids, poured myself into work. The grief was always there, but I kept it in a box. It was not until I became a father myself that the box stopped holding.

TL;DR: I lost my mother to firearm suicide at 20 months old. Firearm suicides account for roughly 55% of all gun deaths in America but get a fraction of the attention. As a father of three and Everytown fellow, I fight for the interventions, secure storage, waiting periods, risk-based removal orders, that create time between a crisis and access to a lethal method.

The number no one talks about

When most people hear “gun violence,” they think of mass shootings. School shootings. The kind of violence that makes the news and stays there for a week. Those events are devastating and deserve every bit of attention they get.

But roughly 55% of all gun deaths in America are suicides. More than half. In 2023, the CDC reported over 27,000 firearm suicides in the United States. That is 74 people every day who die the way my mother died. Most of them never make the news.

Firearm suicide is the largest category of gun death in this country, and it gets the least attention, the least funding, and the least political urgency. Suicide is uncomfortable to talk about. It is wrapped in stigma and silence. People do not know what to say, so they say nothing.

I spent 35 years saying nothing. I understand the impulse.

Why the method matters

People who study suicide prevention will tell you that most suicidal crises are temporary. The intense moment of wanting to die usually passes within minutes to hours. The research is clear on this. Whether someone survives a suicidal crisis often comes down to whether a lethal method was immediately available.

Firearms are the most lethal method of suicide attempt. The case fatality rate is approximately 85 to 90 percent. Compare that to drug overdose, the most common method of attempt, which has a fatality rate under 3 percent. Same crisis. Different access. Vastly different outcomes.

This is why means restriction works. Creating time and distance between a person in crisis and a lethal method is one of the most effective suicide prevention strategies we have. A locked safe. A waiting period. A temporary removal during a crisis. All of them buy time, and time is what allows a temporary crisis to stay temporary.

What the data says

The policy interventions that reduce firearm suicide are well-documented. We have data, not theories.

Secure storage laws require firearms to be stored locked and unloaded when not in use. Households where firearms are stored locked have significantly lower rates of youth firearm suicide and unintentional death. If you own firearms and have a family, a locked safe is the most impactful thing you can do today.

Waiting periods create a mandatory delay between purchasing a firearm and taking possession. Research shows they reduce firearm suicides by 7 to 11 percent. For someone in an acute crisis, a three to seven day delay can be the difference between a funeral and a second chance.

Extreme risk protection orders, sometimes called red flag laws, allow family members or law enforcement to petition a court to temporarily remove firearms from someone in crisis. Temporary. Designed to get through the worst moment. The evidence shows they work for suicide prevention specifically.

None of these policies prevent anyone from owning firearms. All of them create time.

How I got here

I did not start out as an advocate. I started out as a businessman who happened to have a personal connection to gun violence that he did not talk about.

In 2016, I ran for Congress in Wisconsin’s 5th District. During the campaign, I started talking publicly about my mother for the first time. The question kept coming up: why do you care about this issue? The honest answer was personal, and I decided to stop hiding it.

After the campaign, I became an Everytown for Gun Safety Wisconsin Fellow. I started speaking at events, meeting other survivors, working with researchers who understood the data behind firearm suicide prevention. I served on the board of Planned Parenthood of Wisconsin C4 and as a DNC Representative for Wisconsin. Those roles put me in rooms where policy decisions were being made.

But the work that stays with me is not what happens in those rooms. It is sitting with another family who lost someone the same way I did. It is watching a gun owner hear the statistics for the first time and decide to buy a safe. Those moments feel like the reason I am doing any of this.

Being a father changed everything

I have three children: Josie, Kyan, and Sydney. They are the reason the box stopped holding.

When you become a parent, you think about risk differently. You childproof the house. You check the car seat. You worry about things that never crossed your mind before. And if you grew up in a house shaped by firearm suicide, you think about that too.

My kids know the broad strokes of their grandmother’s story. We talk about mental health in our house. We talk about asking for help. We talk about the fact that hard moments pass and that feeling terrible right now does not mean you will feel terrible forever.

Those kitchen table conversations are the most important work I do on this issue. My kids are learning that it is okay to struggle and that struggling does not have to be the end of the story.

This is not a political argument

Firearm suicide prevention is a public health issue. You can support the Second Amendment and support secure storage. You can own firearms and believe a waiting period is reasonable. These positions are only contradictory if you have been told that any conversation about firearms and safety is an attack on rights. It is not.

I lost my mother before I could know her. I have spent my entire life carrying that absence. If a locked safe or a waiting period could have given her one more day, one more chance to get through the crisis, I might have a memory of her face.

That is why I do this work. For the 74 families who will lose someone today the same way I lost my mother. And for my kids, who deserve to grow up in a country that takes this seriously.

If you or someone you know is in crisis, contact the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by calling or texting 988. Help is available 24/7.