Speaking of crazy stories:

At about 2:30 that afternoon, they kicked in the front door of the clinic's crowded waiting room, where women and children sat on 11 tightly packed chairs watched over by Gomez's personal heroes: a painting of the Virgin of Guadalupe, photos of his father, a retired Colombian naval officer, and of Argentine revolutionary Ernesto “Che” Guevara.

As his terrified patients threw themselves to the floor, Gomez rushed from his office to meet the shabbily dressed and bleary-eyed assailants, each wielding a pistol.

“They were calling my name, screaming all sorts of foul things,” says Gomez, a fit and wiry man who looks far younger than his age. “A moment arrives when a few uneducated idiots want to take away everything we have, everything we've built. You say to yourself, this is it.

“This is it,” he repeats.

One of the men grabbed Gomez by the arm, pulling him toward the door. Gomez pushed back, grabbing the man's gun and opening fire on all three.

Incredibly brave, but even more incredibly foolhardy.