In my case, some essentials were different. For example, I had been taught basic gun-handling at an early age. Never take a firearm without making sure it is unloaded; with an automatic or semi-auto, that means not just dropping the magazine (not a "clip" unless it's an M-1 rifle) but also clearing the chamber. Never point a gun at someone "unless you intend to shoot them," said my mother the crack shot. Never traverse a barrel in someone's direction as you are handling the weapon. Even if you know the gun is unloaded. You always "police your brass" after shooting.

For example, the first time I ever fired an automatic rifle was when I was nine years old. Yes, the same age as the girl who accidentally killed her "instructor" at an Arizona "shooting range" when an Uzi kicked up and out of control.

I learned this as a child in the West. I learned it the right way, with competent, demanding adults and on properly prepared and supervised ranges.

The thing about most guns is that they kick, something especially true of shotguns and automatic weapons. When the firearm discharges, the explosion in the chamber and subsequent chain of events and physics to send the bullet or shot at, say, 1,200 feet per second or faster, causes the barrel to rise. In the case of a shotgun, it also sends the stock back against the shooter — in some cases hard enough to knock him down.

In the case of my first experience with an automatic rifle, my instructor made sure I was standing in the right "T" position, with my left foot solidly planted behind me at a steadying 90-degree angle from the rest of my body, my abdomen tight, shoulders squared, leaning slightly forward. That I was firmly grasping the rifle to prevent its "riding up" once I pulled the trigger. That I fired only a short burst. We were in a booth separated from other shooters, with the range master ensuring when it was safe to shoot. As I fired, my instructor was slightly behind me but with his hand close to the barrel if the recoil got away from me. The target was a circle, not a human silhouette.

I did fine. It was great fun.

From what I can tell, few of these basics were in place at the roadside freak show in far northwestern Arizona masquerading as a gun range. Called the Arizona Last Stop (indeed) and on the highway to Vegas, the place allows civilians to shoot machine guns, grenade launchers and sniper rifles. The sign also advertises beer.

The accident is horrific in its own right. It has also attracted the national media, which always must be fed and Ferguson has calmed down. Arizona once again shows up in the New York Times with the kind of notoriety sure to attract talented people and high-quality companies.

The girl was too little. The Uzi is little too, light and difficult to control. By contrast, the M-1 carbine I was using was a longer, heavier gun, easier to control. Aside from being from New Jersey, we don't know anything about the girl. For example, did she have any real experience shooting? Or had she merely seen Carrie Anne Moss in The Matrix or Milla Jovovich effortlessly shooting up a storm in Resident Evil?

The thing about children and guns is that adults must always be there, acting as adults. Where in the hell were the adults?

I come at this differently than most because I was raised in the old Western gun culture. It required the greatest care in everything one did and knowledge of and respect for the weapon. Being entrusted with a rifle or shotgun as a young person was a sign of maturity, a passage to adulthood. Adults acted like adults, not overgrown adolescents covered in tattoos dragging along, but barely controlling, their kids. The NRA Safe Hunter Course was not political indoctrination.

In high school, friends and I would regularly go shooting, especially around Pinnacle Peak. Everybody was serious about firearm safety, including making sure that nothing was downrange near the hill or bluff we chose as a backstop. I've always enjoyed target shooting. As a city boy, I'm not a hunter. I still own guns. The characters in my mysteries use them, too.

So I'm not horrified that a nine-year-old would be shooting a gun. I am appalled and nauseated that guns are now treated as toys, that the most powerful weapons are roadside attractions for tourists and their kids.

Scrutiny by the authorities is in order. In an ideal world, this might be a moment to take stock of how violent, coarse and careless our society has become.

It also can't be divorced from Arizona Crazy, where the NRA controls the statehouse. The Guns in Bars state. What could go wrong? The state where Gabby Giffords was the target of an attempted assassination by an unhinged person; six people died, including federal Judge John Roll. There's a desperate effort not to make the connection between that act and the state's extremism, devastatingly chronicled by my friend Tom Zoellner in A Safeway in Arizona.

That won't happen. The deniers will point to Sandy Hook in progressive Connecticut, where 20 children and six adults were gunned down in 2012. And nothing changed.

So nothing will change here. Soon, the cable and Net will be on to the next, worse horror. That's the thing about America today. As our Front Page Editor says, "USA! USA!"