One recent afternoon, Susan Beehler, who may be the only gun-control advocate in all of North Dakota, walked into VFW Post 762, a dimly lit, wood-paneled bar in downtown Fargo.
It was, perhaps, the gun-friendliest place in one of the gun-friendliest states in America; a state where gun rights are so sacred that violent felons can have them restored, where guns are so ordinary that a handwritten flier for high-capacity ammunition clips was recently posted on a grocery store bulletin board, next to one for a pinochle tournament.
Still, Beehler was optimistic. She headed for a table in the corner, where two men wearing flannel buffalo plaid were sipping drinks.