Lessons with lethal weapons

Some area residents learn concealed weapons training emphasizes safety, survival

By Mike Wells ~ Southeast Missourian

A former Scott County chief deputy looked stone-faced at the 12 of us, sipping our morning beverages and sitting at four round tables in his small classroom.

"Death is forever," he said solemnly, pausing for emphasis.

The statement elicited a few knowing smiles from those of us shifting slightly in our seats. We were different people brought together for one purpose: to qualify to carry concealed guns.

But Tom Beardslee wasn't about to just take our $100 training fee and only tell us which end the bullets came out of. He intended to make sure that, by the end of our eight hours together on Sunday, we would understand just how much toting a hidden gun could change our lives and the lives of others.

"When you carry a concealed weapon, you have a commitment not only to yourself, but you have a responsibility to the safety of other people and to make sure that gun doesn't get taken away from you by a criminal and end up on the streets," he said.

For some, that life-changing decision was spurred by a new concealed weapons law passed in September by a veto-overriding vote of the Missouri Legislature. The law allows Missourians who go through an eight-hour course to conceal guns, but it doesn't go into effect until Oct. 11.

Wait until Tuesday

Cape Girardeau County Sheriff John Jordan and Scott County Capt. Jerry Bledsoe said their offices won't be ready to take applications and do background checks until Tuesday, but people in our area already are filling classes. Sunday's course was Beardslee's third in less than a week.

The group of five women and seven men included two state prosecutors, a private attorney, a nurse, a former police officer, a lumber inspector, a state vocational rehabilitation supervisor, a family of three, a gun enthusiast and a reporter -- me.

Sitting across my table was a mustachioed Robert "Gene" Colyer. From his Hell's-Angel-meets-sea-captain appearance, I surmised he was going to be the most interesting person in the class.

He wore black pants and a black vest over a red T-shirt. He covered his shaved head with a black skipper's cap and wore three silver rings, a pentagram pendant and leather wrist cuffs with silver, star-shaped studs.

But his most noticeable accessory was squarely above his heart -- a miniature U.S. flag pin edged in gold.

He is an Air Force veteran, a freelance weapons writer and a self-described "gun geek."

The course was fairly beginner-level to such a weapons enthusiast as Colyer, who nodded along as Beardslee discussed topics he already understood.

But over the next several hours, there would prove to be a few new things Colyer and the other experienced shooters in the class would learn.

The premise of using deadly force was defined on the marker board behind Beardslee as justifiable when a person believes they are in imminent danger of death or serious physical injury.

"You don't have to wait until they cut you or shoot you to use it," the instructor said.

Colyer's eyebrows raised.

"That's what I wanted to know," Colyer said, pointing his right index finger into the air before jotting down a note.

Retired FBI special agent Jim Lummus took over the second half of the lecture portion of the training. A tall, rail-thin man with a deeply etched face and iron gray hair, the 66-year-old Lummus occasionally injected salty humor into his instructions on safely carrying, loading and pointing a gun.

For instance, he debunked a myth created by action movies that an attacking criminal can be easily killed with one bullet from a handgun.

"More holes are better than few holes, and large holes are better than small holes -- it makes them bleed better," he said, grinning widely and holding up a semiautomatic pistol. "This is gory, I know, but it's a fact of life. These 'awesome thundersticks' are not one-shot stoppers."

He showed us a drawing depicting the best places to fatally wound an assailant, the brain and the 3-inch wide stretch of the spine. I had a sobering realization: This class was about knowing how to kill someone before he can kill you.

After the three-and-a-half hour lecture, Colyer quickly filled out his 20-question, multiple choice quiz and left for lunch with his friend and fellow classmate, Dana Jost.

Women and guns

Having so many women in the class surprised me at first. But the permit was expected to be popular for women wanting to carry a concealed gun for a feeling of safety. Jost was a perfect example -- a traveling nurse who spends a lot of time alone driving across the region.

"I do worry about being on the interstate, driving alone," she said. "Car-jackings do happen. I'll just feel safer with one in the vehicle if I get run off the road or something like that."

For those who passed the quiz -- all of us -- it was on to the shooting range, located north of Benton on Scott County Road 401. The written test is not required by the new law. Beardslee added it to make sure people understood the key points, he said.

Lummus first taught us how to use our gun sights accurately as we attempted to hit vertical and horizontal lines and 3-inch circles. Other sessions included firing until empty and reloading smoothly, locating and shooting a specifically numbered circle on three panels, and finally, shooting human silhouettes.

Cape Girardeau County Prosecuting Attorney Morley Swingle -- invited by Beardslee to attend -- brought his own revolver, plus a semiautomatic he recently inherited from the late Ian Sutherland. Sutherland was a retired U.S. Army Special Forces colonel who served nearly 15 years as Swingle's assistant prosecutor before dying in an April parachuting accident.

"I will think of him whenever I go firing that gun," Swingle said. "And I hope I never have to use it in a real situation."

Swingle said he was comforted at how Beardslee and his staff presented the course information.

The requirements

To earn a certificate of completion, we had to fire 20 semi-automatic rounds and 20 revolver rounds at a silhouette's center mass area from seven yards. No one failed, and the majority of us recieved perfect scores.

One of the more experienced shooters was Buddy Delisle, a former law enforcement officer who operates a drug screening and investigation business in Portageville.

He intends to teach a concealed gun course and to become a bail bondsman. While he supports the new law, he also wishes it had more teeth in its restrictions.

"People will qualify for the permit by using a .22 on the range but then go out and buy a .45 with a lot more power," he said.

Before the last session, Lummus announced he had one more thing to teach us: a shoot from the torso level method he developed when he was a FBI SWAT team member.

Five short, steel targets shaped like silhouettes were propped up in front of us. Lummus, Beardslee and a third firearms instructor, Marty Williams, stood behind us and intermittently tapped our shoulders -- a signal we should shoot.

The method is relatively simple, but it took me several shots to mimic it. Lummus said to imagine a long bayonet at the barrel of the gun and to picture it puncturing the target as you push forward and shoot without looking through the sights.

"If done properly, it can't fail," Lummus said.

After the gun smoke cleared from the shooting range, we walked over to a shed where Beardslee had laid our training certificates across a table. Twelve more people from Southeast Missouri were now at the halfway mark to becoming legal concealed gun carriers.

Next week, I apply for the permit and undergo a background check. There's nothing in my history I'm concerned about, and so I'm just looking upon the check as a final step in the process.

mwells@semissourian.com

335-6611, extension 160

Want to train?

A list of qualified firearms instructors is available at the Cape Girardeau County Sheriff's office.

Call 573-243-3551.