The Unforgettable Chair Run (continued)
Over half way through one of our almost nine month training cycles with my group of about thirty officers, I was watching them complete a mandatory, timed qualification night shoot at the SDPD Police Range. The testing involved a combat portion where each recruit had to remove a shotgun from the patrol car with the emergency overhead lights flashing. The lights partially illuminating multiple targets. They were timed as they exited the police car simulating a running gun battle where they had to engage multiple targets, needing a minimum number of center body hits in a very short period of time.
Watching the firearms instructors put my section of officers through this testing was to say the least painful. So much of life is about mental focus. Without going into too much detail they sucked. It was contagious. About a third of my recruits failed the shoot. It was like watching one of the police academy movies. They lost their confidence. It was as if they were Austin Powers in one of his, "spy movies" and somehow Dr. Evil had taken their precious, "mojo". They had the skills. it was all a mental failure.
The problem with failing a required shoot is that if you fail the remediation test the following week you are fired, cut loose, sent packing. It is as black and white as a marked patrol car. If you cannot demonstrate you can shoot under pressure in a controlled environment like a firing range where people are not shooting back at you, you have no business carrying a gun on the streets of San Diego. I strongly agree with the standards and over time took that treasured gold badge from several recruits before they took the long walk to the parking lot and back to civilian life. Still it was tough, because I knew these recruits had the skills to pass the test.
Prior to being dismissed for the evening we all did our regular push ups together. During this particular academy class, my Lieutenant had a new directive of no disciplinary push ups. Another dumb idea. So, we of course, did a heck of allot of celebratory push ups. Before breaking ranks for the evening, I told the recruits to get some rest and we would fix it tomorrow. I honestly did not know how we were going to fix it. I knew I would find a way. As I drove home in my old white Toyota tercel, (slightly crushed on one side) I struggled with their failure. It really bothered me. They were my responsibility. I kept thinking they just had a mental block.
What would Austin Powers do?
When I walked into the academy classroom the next morning, everyone was dressed in their physical training gear. White police academy t-shirts, blue running shorts. The short running shorts which would make our three sons, Troy, Raymond and Ryan cringe. As I walked into class the recruits jumped to attention, staring straight ahead and yelled out their customary, "Sir, good morning sir"! I knew what I was about to do would like likely get me in trouble with my Lieutenant. We did not get along. Again, I tested the edges. But I looked at all those eager faces and I knew I could not let them down.
Officer Paul Houlsen was an African American recruit about six feet four inches tall and about two hundred and forty pounds of solid muscle. His million dollar smile and southern drawl accompanied his awesome voice. When he spoke it was like warm honey being spilled over hot, buttered biscuits. It makes me smile thinking about him. I remember looking him in the eye and saying, "recruit Houlsen I want you to lead our section on a chair run". He of course yelled, "yes sir" even though he and the rest of the recruits had absolutely no idea what I wanted them to do. By the glint in their eyes they knew I had something special planned. I told them to fall out and take their Miramar College issued desk chairs with them. So they did.
They hustled out of the classroom with each recruit carrying their chairs as they fell into formation. As we broke ranks and started running in a single column up to the grinder, each student was carrying their chair in front of them with both hands. As directed, Recruit Houlsen led cadence with his booming and beautiful voice that was echoed by the other recruits, "Chair run, ..here we go, ...all the way.... Got my chair...above my head... Out front... Oh yeah ... Love my chair ...here we go!". They were so excited. It broke the stress from the previous evening. I heard some sudden laughter coming from the front of the section and they started chanting even louder and louder. As I passed my Lieutenant's office I then knew why.
Standing outside his office, as he often did, was my SDPD Lieutenant smoking a cigarette. I'm not sure how to describe the look on his face. I glanced at him once and could not look anymore. We both knew I was toast when I returned. Of course with my luck, standing right beside him in this early morning hour was none other then the Dean of Miramar College. My Lieutenant's cigarette hung loosely from his fingers as his jaw appeared to be dropped. I could only imagine what the Dean of the College was likely asking my frazzled Lieutenant, "Bill, where is Officer Shay and his recruits taking my chairs"? I looked straight ahead as I listened to Officer Houlsen's voice. I kept thinking, let's get to the grinder quick and do this thing.
With the morning sun rasing from the east scattering long shadows across the grinder, we lined up all the chairs in a row. For about the next forty-five minutes every recruited practiced the shotgun combat shoot. No shotgun, no cars, no targets. But by goodness, we had the police car seats. We mentally and physically walked through all the steps of the combat shoot. They even yelled, "boom" when they cycled their imaginary shotguns. They each were reminded to visualize being successful. Like I said, I think life is mostly mental. When I returned to the Police Academy my well deserved, ass chewing was waiting. I could still smell the smoke on my Lieutenant's breath as he yelled. It reminded of the scene from Top Gun, when Maverick and Goose, "buzzed" the tower. "I want some butts"!
You know, I never regretted the infamous, "chair run". Even while my Lieutenant was yelling. I knew in my heart I had fixed my recruits. They had their badly needed, "mojo" back. When every one of them passed the combat shoot and ultimately strode across the expansive stage at the Marine Corpe Recruit Depot at graduation, I was so proud of each them. Just like my mom. I like seeing people win.
By the way, Officer Paul Houlsen, (shown in above photograph, years later to my right) proudly served about ten years on SDPD before returning to a small city, I believe in Georgia, where he became the Chief of Police. I know exactly what Austin Powers would say, "Yeah Baby.... Shagolicious",
Have an awesome week!
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