She was a young woman, and unfamiliar with the ways of gun nuts, and she was absolutely convinced that the man was a suicide. Why else would he be clutching a handgun? But there was no bullet wound, and finally his friends were able to convince her that there is nothing more natural to sit watching the History Channel while groping a gun of one sort or another.
There are worse ways to go. In fact, the only better one I can think of is to have a heart attack while packing out a 457-point Boone and Crockett elk that you have taken.
Where does one sign up for such a demise?