Place for those who ‘want to shoot guns’

Operators of Quickshot Shooting Range say they have the only indoor range inside the Perimeter. The crowd checking out the new facility has included college students, a pharmacist, an art studio employee, a rabbi, a videographer and, yes, a pilates studio owner.

“I wish I thought of it; I told my wife a year ago that a shooting range inside 285 would absolutely crush,” said Reid, who enjoys shooting but avoids talking about it with his ITP clients. “It’s too political. A lot of my clients are probably anti-gun.”

The intown range has been open three weeks now and is drawing a steady stream of residents interested in their marksmanship, the discipline of precision shooting and personal safety. The range, which is just outside the Atlanta city limits, quietly gained its permit and did not draw protests.

Gerry Neumark, vice chair of Neighborhood Planning Unit-F, which represents the Atlanta neighborhoods adjacent to the Zonolite area, heard nothing about it.

“I’m surprised because the NPU is filled with neighborhood activists,” he said. “I’d be upset if that was in our neighborhood.”

Henry Batten, who is active with the Lindbergh-LaVista Corridor Coalition, which represents the neighborhoods just to the north of the area, said, “Most people would say, ‘At least its not another nail salon or check cashing place.’ ”

“A lot more people are supportive of shooting than you’d think,” said Jonathan Wolfman, one of the owners of Soapbox Studios, which is near the range. “The area is not as liberal — or at least about guns — as you’d think.”

Wolfman has shot there several times and said, “I’m always surprised to see who is walking through the door. (The owners and their clientele) are removing some of the stereotypes surrounding guns.”

Tyler Perkins, a 26-year-old entrepreneur, opened Quickshot in a brick building that used to house an auto repair shop. The self-described “inside-the-perimeter kind of guy,” started shooting last year and had to drive to ranges in Forest Park, Norcross or Smyrna. “It was a pain in the butt,” said Perkins, who also owns a demolition company.

Simply put, he said, “It’s a huge circle (I- 285) with a diverse population who want to shoot guns.” And there was nowhere to do it.

The range wants to cater to first-time shooters, and Perkins said he hopes to win them over with kindness and chocolate chip cookies, which are offered at the front desk. His parents — Jan and Mike Perkins — man the counter.

“We’re trying to differentiate ourselves in cleanliness, customer service and a well-lit range,” Perkins said. “We try to offer a welcoming environment for women and children.”

At the front desk last week, Mike Perkins helped explain the process to Justine Lyons, an Emory researcher who was looking for a Christmas gift for her husband. Her search brought her to the range for a gift certificate.

“At first, I was going to get him some art,” she said. “Then I told him I was going to get him something manly.”

Lyons said she’s even thinking about learning how to shoot.

“One of my neighbor’s home got broken into yesterday,” she said. “I guess I’ve always been open to it. I’ve never been around guns. I never even touched one.”

She smiled at the thought of her gift and the gun-filled glass case in front of her. “This is exciting,” she said, adding, “My mom would kill me if she knew I was here.”

Several people who came into the shop said their interest in the range was related to some high-profile crimes and brazen home invasions that have alarmed intown residents.

“A lot of women who come in already own firearms, they just don’t know how to use them,” said Mike Perkins, who said women make better students because they come with few preconceived notions about shooting. “We have had a lot of women come in who haven’t had anything happen to them — and don’t want anything to happen to them.”

Kendra Roundtree, a pharmacist at a nearby drug store, came to Quickshot last week with Steve Dudley, the store’s delivery coordinator and a longtime shooter.

Roundtree purchased a .38-caliber revolver a while back for protection, but it has sat unused.

In conversation, Dudley told her if she was going to be a gun owner, she needed to know how the weapon works.

So the two came to the range to practice together. The highlight of their blasting off perhaps 150 rounds was the diminutive Roundtree firing her co-worker’s antique .45-caliber pistol, a weapon than erupts with a hellacious crack.

“It’s relaxing,” she said of her new pursuit. “It took my mind off everything else.”

Another enthusiast at the range is a local rabbi who first bought a gun for self-defense after receiving some vague threats but learned to love the “precision, control and relaxation” that comes with shooting. He now owns several guns.

“Very few people who know me know that I’m a regular shooter,” said the rabbi, who is pro-gun but asked that he not be named because “people have very strong feelings and knee-jerk reactions, on both sides.

“Jews are historically liberal in their politics, and people who are liberal are generally against guns,” said the rabbi, who estimated more than half his congregation, and his in-laws, are anti-gun.

“It’s a highly partisan issue; it’s very polarized,” he said. “People ask, ‘Aren’t guns dangerous?’ And I say, ‘You betcha. I want to be more dangerous than the guy attacking me.’”