Sunday, June 28, 1998

Learning hard lessons of how to be safe with guns

By Charles Russell

Thirty-two years ago this September will mark the time since I attended the very first of the local police training programs to be offered in Illinois. Southern Illinois University in Alton was the place where it had been offered to new officers through their local communities' sponsorship.

The brand-new program of that time had the top training personnel available from the Illinois State Police and the Illinois Bureau of Information and Investigation, as well as several people the FBI had provided.

The man who taught handling of the Thompson submachine gun was the same special agent who brought in "Black Charlie" Harris, a well-known gangster from southern Illinois. I remember we were awed by our experienced field of trainers.

The school dormitory was our home through the week. We spent our evenings studying. We would all return home on weekends. I recall barely managing the heavy study program in the first week.

We attended our first class on gun safety before we left for home that first weekend. It was taught by a state police trainer who preached like a top sergeant, especially when dealing with safe handling of weapons in the home.

n "When storing your weapon, make sure it's unloaded and put away where children can't get it."

n "Lock and store ammunition in a separate location."

n "Make sure children don't have access to the keys."

"Remember," he said, "guns kill, and they must be stored safely."

Reflecting on that time, I can recall we all believed we could handle this new job better because of our training. I felt a surge of confidence in my ability to pursue the police profession.

But I was becoming more sure that it hinged upon our remembering and using what we learned in training.

You can't imagine the bitter irony that was pressed on our group the following Monday when we returned to class.

We learned one of our fellow trainees had placed his weapon inside a shoe box, high on a shelf in a closet and still loaded. Somehow his young son managed to get to the gun and shoot his own eye out. They said it happened so fast our friend and his wife had no knowledge of what was happening until it was too late.

It was devastating for our fellow trainee. He dropped out of training. I learned later he resigned from his department.

The horror of this incident was a starting lesson whose answer could never be revealed more vividly than by our personal experience. No matter how tired I became in the years ahead, you can bet I always made sure my weapon was secure before my eyes closed.

Charles Russell is a retiree living in Abilene and a former police officer from East St. Louis, Ill.