Looking back I realize I grew up down the street from a probable domestic terrorist.
He taught his kid how to make homemade bombs out of gunpowder and melted crayons. He had a bunch of weapons, including a flamethrower, and even though he lived on one acre of land and didn’t own a farm or ranch or anything, his carport was filled with bags of high grade fertilizer. His dog ate into one of the bags once and all its fur fell out.