Deer Control Has Bambi in Crosshairs

More Area Suburbs Using Sharpshooters

Phil Norman wriggled into his blood-splattered overalls and got ready to shoot some deer. He had everything he needed for an evening hunting trip: a Remington Model 700 rifle, night-vision binoculars and a map of the terrain.

Not that it was particularly hard terrain to navigate.

Norman was stalking white-tailed deer amid the suburban cul-de-sacs of Columbia. Just a few hundred yards from where a little girl had been playing on a yellow swing on Nightshade Court, he crept, under cover of darkness, through part of a 300-acre park. Before he was done, he shot six deer.

Norman, a Howard County employee, said he aims away from the houses, uses a silencing device and takes only shots that could not ricochet toward people. County rules prevent him from firing within 150 yards of any occupied structure.

"It might sound strange to think of deer SWAT teams in the suburbs," said Norman, 50, a soft-spoken pastor with wire-rimmed glasses. "But if we don't do something pretty soon the deer will be stampeding down the streets."

Desperate to control exploding deer populations, some Washington area communities have turned in recent years to organized hunts -- often by recreational hunters -- to thin the herds. Now they are relying more and more on sharpshooters and police SWAT teams to hunt the animals even in some densely populated neighborhoods.

The District and Fairfax and Montgomery counties --not to mention private citizens -- have hired professional sharpshooters to kill the animals.

There are perhaps a dozen registered deer sharpshooters in the region.

Even in an area where development often collides with nature, the rise of the suburban sharpshooter stands out as problematic.

The practice of shooting deer in residential areas has ignited a fierce debate over safety, with some residents recoiling at the thought of gunfire outside their homes. Even some families are divided.

"I'm so petrified to leave my house that I've become a prisoner in my own bedroom," said Kim Thompson, whose back yard borders the park where Norman shoots deer. It's not sharpshooters she's afraid of, however, it's the deer, which are notorious for darting in front of cars.

Her husband, Joe, shook his head. "I don't want bullets whizzing around here," he said. "I'm much more afraid of guns than any deer."