ShootingClasses.com Blog

Remembering an Old Shooter: Russell J. Bubello

Tue, 13 Jul 2021 15:07:35 -0400

(Aug. 8, 1941 - March 16, 2009)

The first time I met Russ

One particularly hot August day in 1986, my father handed me six dollars and made me walk to the Village Square Barber Shop in Margate, Florida. He said I had to ask the old barber for a “regular haircut.” It would cost five dollars, and I was to give that extra dollar to the gentleman as a tip. Like any seventeen-year-old, the thought of keeping that extra dollar for myself crossed my mind a few times, during that one-mile walk in the hot Florida sun. That was before I knew Russell J. Bubello.

The bell over the barbershop door loudly announced my arrival and I quickly noticed a man who stood a little crooked. He walked with a cane and some difficulty. He shot me a stern look upon my arrival and that gaze erased any temptation of keeping that dollar - trust me.

Russ didn’t say much. When he spoke to me, it was a sort of growl. I did not ask about the tattoos on his arms. I counted at least six of them as he cut my hair. When he was through, I gave him the extra dollar. He looked mildly surprised and thanked me with a different growl, a softer tone.

Finding common ground

The next time Russ cut my hair was September of 1987. I had recently graduated from military Basic Training. During this visit we had plenty to talk about.

He described underwater demolition duty in Vietnam during his service in the United States Navy. When I told him that I also wanted to be a police officer, he showed me his gold New York Police Detective shield. He explained how, while making an arrest in the late 70s, he was thrown against a car by a violent suspect. The handcuffs he wore at the small of his back were violently pressed against his spine. His partners completed the arrest, but the injury nearly crippled him.

Russ medically retired from the NYPD on Jan. 16, 1980 - my eleventh birthday. When I told him that my dad served in the NYPD Auxiliary, Russ replied, “Yeah. I know who your father is.” That was kind of funny because, aside from my father, Russ was the first cop I admired. After the next haircut, a month later, he let me inspect his Kimber 1911 and his S&W Chief’s Special. We talked guns over a cup of coffee.

My regular haircut with a side of gunsmithing

Over the twenty-three years that followed, if I was not deployed, I came to Russ for a “regular haircut” and listened to his stories about the NYPD in the 70s. If my schedule prevented it or if I had to get a haircut elsewhere, he understood. He’d say, “It’s alright. I’m not mad. Have a seat.” In time, thanks to a couple medical procedures, his spine and his walk grew straighter- so did the haircuts! And after every haircut, I tipped him an extra dollar.

I met a lot of cops at Russ’s Barber Shop over the years. As it happened, Russ held a Federal Firearms License (FFL) and did a little gunsmithing in the back of the shop. Cops came in for gun repairs, shooting supplies, ammo, or advice.

I looked forward to seeing new and familiar faces. My Dad went there for years. So did my friend and fellow-warrior David Agata, his partner George Soberon, and many other cops. We either talked and laughed or just listened to the Motown oldies station waiting for our turn in the barber’s chair.

More than just a haircut

Despite the medical issues Russ was always such a big, tough guy to us. He could be intimidating, even at his age. But if he liked you, he allowed you to see that smile. And if you could “get” him with a joke, that smile was so wide, his cheeks would shut both of his eyes, and he’d say, “Very good.” If he let you into his circle, you could stick around after the haircut.

You could talk to Russ about anything: more than handguns, rifles, or tactics. We debated life, relationships, cooking, cars, sports, religion, politics– you could talk about any problem in the world with Russ in the barber shop. If he thought you were wrong, he would tell you: sometimes gently, sometimes not so gently. His opinions were as strong as that first look he gave me so many years ago.

Over the years, and after many haircuts, I bought my first four handguns from Russ - two revolvers and two semi-automatic pistols.

Pinning my shield

Law enforcement in this country is a “family business.” Whenever possible, a veteran officer from a cadet’s own family pinned the shield onto the graduating cadet’s uniform shirt for the first time. Historically, a police officer in the old days might also wear a pistol, a shield or some other equipment that was a hand-me-down from his father.

In 2001, a local police department hired me and sent me to the Broward Police Academy. I secretly told the dean that Russ was like my uncle. We told Russ to wear his shield on his suit and during my part of the ceremony, Russ was called up out of the audience by the dean to pin my shield. Russ sure was surprised. And he was every bit as proud as my parents were.

We had a little dinner party after. As we all said our goodbyes, he reminded me NOT to wear the cuffs over my spine: his first “tip” to me back in 1986. He stopped taking the extra dollar for the haircuts from me after I became a police officer. If I insisted, he reminded me that he was a better shot so I should not argue.

Lessons and stories from Russ’ police officer days

Russ shared a lot of wisdom from the Old Country: Brooklyn. When he started on the job, patrolmen walked a beat and checked in on a call box. This was before patrol cars were common and there were not enough radios to go around.

Looking back, I can say that anything he told me about shooting, shooting accessories, about the military or about police work was spot on. Things were different in his day. But there were ups and downs and bosses were a lot like they are on the job today. We talked about “good guys” and “wise guys.”

Russ passed on some of the lessons that he learned the hard way. We always traded stories and corny jokes - many of which I could not share at his Catholic church funeral in 2009, when health issues caught up with him.

A classic man in every way

If I had to choose one word to describe Russ, it would be “Classic”- in every way. He was a grouchy tattooed sailor, a streetwise veteran cop, an old-fashioned barber, and a mustached American Shooter of Irish and Italian descent.

He always asked about our families. He kept up on all our troubles. He knew all our birthdays and our anniversaries. He had an ear for good music and a taste for good food (this frustrated his doctors to no end). He was our wise old “retired cop” friend. He was classic, and we all loved him for it.

Russ passed away five years before my first retirement (from the military). I reminisce about that old warrior around this time each year. It’s 2021 and my own police retirement approaches now.

Passing along Russ’ wisdom

I will always remember the sights, sounds and the smells of that old barber shop in South Florida with the gunsmithing bench in the backroom. For nearly a quarter century Russell J. Bubello quietly shared his wisdom with me. I cherish the lessons handed down about the job and about life from an old shooter over a cup of coffee.

Here are five lessons I think are still important in our time:

There is a right way and a wrong way to get things done.
When you see something done wrong, you do not stand for it. You say, “That’s wrong.” You say it out loud and you make it right.
Family is important - and not just blood. Family can make you CRAZY but, it is important.
Nobody’s perfect. But if you can laugh at yourself, it proves you have a sense of humor and THAT keeps us going. It keeps us young.

And finally…

A few friends listening to oldies in an old-fashioned Barber Shop, could solve all the world’s problems.

Rest in peace, Uncle Russ…

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How to Create the Best Firearms "Teaching Space"

Mon, 10 Aug 2020 18:14:39 -0400

3 anecdotes from my 25 years of teaching

Those of us with military experience may remember the command, "Classroom Circle!" Normally something you heard outside, a "classroom circle" huddle was perfect for a quick new lesson or safety briefing from a non-commissioned officer to his experienced shooters before stepping onto the firing line.

Sometimes the teaching space would be a little more formal, seated on bleachers or even in a classroom. Maybe it was for learning a new weapon system, some major policy changes or anything that the commanders needed "done right."

As instructors, we want the best setting in which we can teach and the right tools so that our shooters can learn. But it doesn't always work out that way. Here are three anecdotes from my time as a firearms instructor.

1. Roughing It

I once had to teach for a week, lecturing on use of force, deadly force and defensive tactics to a group of international military students in Central America. I was part of an instructor team—which included Eddy Boyd and Stephen Kelly—deployed in support of a larger training operation.

On the first day, at the last minute, we got bumped out of our classroom by the organizers. We found ourselves on the only other space available to us for a few days: a muddy riverbank, at the edge of the jungle, out in 124° heat at 8 a.m. (Good thing we arrived early.) It was at the riverbank, because we were expected to run a training scenario aboard a small ship by the end of the week. At the risk of causing an international incident, we pushed back on the organizers, insisting that the learning experience had to be done right.

"Students dropping out from the heat can't exactly pay attention," we protested. "And it rains every afternoon here! We need a classroom."

That got us a decently sized little canopy tent at the muddy riverbank, but no projector for our slideshows. When we asked about chairs, we received a very generous pallet of empty milk crates. We couldn’t keep the wooden pallet, but we sure got all the mosquitoes we could stand! There were no vacant classrooms until the third day. It was rough, but we had to make it work in that teaching space.

It certainly helped that I was teamed up with two solid instructors. We had all brought our own sets of professional markers, big paper flipcharts, reference manuals and everything else we thought we'd need.

We set up the "chairs" in u-shaped rows around the training mats. We divvied up the topics and recreated the more important slides on the flipcharts. We gave the students plenty of breaks and came up with games to review the lessons at the end of each day.

By the end of the week, our students successfully completed the scenario aboard the ship. They said they enjoyed our classes. They never knew how aggravated we were. Stuck with a rough teaching space, we got creative, and we made it work.

2. Technical Difficulties

Back in the U.S., and for a different set of classes, I had a day off when an instructor/teammate called me in bit of a panic. Wes Mundy was a good instructor, but that morning, our overhead projector and laptop were just not "speaking" to each other.

The image was projecting way out of frame, and not simply in a way that re-aiming the beam would fix. It was some weird, advanced setting. He had been through all the troubleshooting he could think of before calling me, and the class was arriving. They were about 60 military students, from new specialists up through all the ranks to a very senior commander. I talked my buddy through all the troubleshooting I could recall without the system in front of me, but we had no luck.

At that point, it was about 8:24 a.m. and the class was all seated, staring at him talking with me on his cellphone. With no other choice, I told him to call up the youngest person in the room and quietly tell them to fix it. The gamble worked! That kid was about 18 years old, and he knew exactly how to fix it. The quick laugh broke the ice, and they had a good training class. The student had helped save the tech for that teaching space!

3. Too Cool for School

If you've been shooting for a while, you might have shooting ranges you prefer over others. Sometimes it matters more to match your classes to the ranges at your disposal.

My lieutenant once told us, "Shooting in 36° weather, when the students' fingers and guns are shivering, certainly isn't good training."

We had complained about early classes on an outdoor range. He rescheduled our classes to times and ranges best suited for teaching and learning. He was good like that, one of the best bosses I ever worked for. That lieutenant was Tony Crisco, and we are friends to this day.

Many of you are self-employed instructors. You can be your own "best boss."

What does this mean for you?

You might be asking yourself, “Why does all this matter? Can't my students and I tough it out without fancy equipment and just get started shooting?”

Well, yeah. But what if they're all new shooters? You’ll want to take your time on a few things. If you've studied adult learning theory, you know people respond differently to various types of instruction. In our own, early years of schooling, we were little children, seated in rows, facing the teacher and the blackboard. It was a rigid and structured experience. But when a TV was up in front, that made us happy! We know now that there's an art and a science to sharing knowledge with adults.

The more ways you can deliver the message you’re teaching, the more students you’ll reach. This is especially true when it comes to new shooters and safety lessons or the intricacies of disassembly and cleaning their firearms. Plus, some students may have paid good money for your classes. You'd like them to enjoy the training and become “repeat cu$tomer$,” right?

Invest in a course for yourself that teaches you about adult learning. Then decide what kind of teaching space you want for optimal learning in each of your shooting classes.

Let’s Recap

Put some thought into preparing your Teaching Space:

Bring what YOU need to get the job done. Make arrangements for other supplies ahead of time, such as markers, dry erase boards, inert/training weapons, medical supplies, targets, backers, any behind-the-scenes support, etc.
High tech tools might make our job easy.Use them! But, have a plan in case they let you down, whether that’s having spare batteries on hand or just omitting the tech all together.
Is the teaching space conducive to learning? Will it work for all types of learning? Are there any distractions? Is it safe?

Can considering all the above mean more effort? Yes. It often takes two hours of prep for every one hour of standing in front of students (at least the first time you present a particular class). But if you think back to why you started teaching in the first place, you'll remember that you wanted to "do it right." Keep that sentiment with you. And have a good class!

Want more tips for improving your shooting classes? Stay tuned to the ShootingClasses.com blog. While you’re here, find out how you can streamline administrative management for your firearms training business.