Ankle Holster Carry - Tactics and Weapons - LawOfficer.com

Ankle Holster Carry

The good, bad & ugly

 


 

Dave Spaulding | From the February 2011 Issue Tuesday, February 15, 2011

My first experience with an ankle holster was the 1971 Academy Award-winning movie The French Connection. I was in high school at the time and hadn’t even thought about a law enforcement career. My life’s total focus was two things: girls and sports, in that order. I saw the movie at the drive-in and was immediately taken by the concept of strapping a gun to one’s leg. It was so cool looking!

When I graduated from the police academy, one of the first things I did was buy a snubby revolver and an ankle holster. Carrying the gun was easy because of the pants style of the time (large bell-bottom trousers). I fantasized about confronting armed robbers and being able to swiftly draw my gun from my leg while saving every damsel in distress (most young male cops do). But once it happened, I realized that relying on an ankle gun for primary carry was/is a huge mistake.

Off-Duty Encounters

Like many young police officers trying to make ends meet, I took a number of off-duty security jobs. One was at a local hotel along the interstate at the southern end of my county. Known as an upscale location, the hotel in question had indoor and outdoor pools, a fine-dining restaurant and a night club that stayed open late. With the exception of a few vehicle break-ins, this business was considered a low-crime area.

The thought of not carrying a gun while working these off-duty jobs was out of the question. And let’s be honest, that’s why these businesses hire off-duty cops. But carrying a concealed weapon can be a hassle, especially because nothing ever happened at this hotel, so I succumbed to the siren song of the ankle holster and carried a Smith & Wesson Model 60 as my only carry gun. It was convenient and out of the way, and I didn’t have to wear a jacket. For awhile, I carried a Bianchi Speed Strip in my front pants pocket so I’d have some spare ammo. As time went by, I even quit doing that. I’d fallen into a complete state of complacency, and it almost cost me my life.

One evening, I’d just reported for work and walked back to the office located behind the front desk to punch my time card. After doing do, I took off my glasses and was cleaning them as I walked around the corner to talk with the desk clerks. It was at that moment I noticed their hands in the air. I looked up into the muzzle of a .38 caliber revolver and noticed it had a cheap-looking Colt Python-like rib on the barrel. It’s interesting what you notice at the strangest times.

The robber told me to raise my hands, and it was at that moment a certain clarity came over me. I was facing a gun with my hands in the air. Not only could I not see clearly, my hands were at the opposite end of my body from my holstered firearm. I couldn’t protect the hotel and its staff. I couldn’t even protect myself. I’ve never felt so helpless. I might die and there was nothing I could do about it.

Fortunately, the suspect decided not to shoot anyone, took the cash and fled out of the front door. I immediately went into super hero mode as I put my glasses on and went to leap over the counter to give pursuit. Unfortunately, my left foot became entangled in a brochure rack that was sitting on top of the front desk, and I slammed face first into the floor.

Not to be deterred in my heroic pursuit, I got up and ran to the same doors the suspect exited. This was a double door with a carpeted mat in between, and, as I opened the first set, I thought it wise to draw my gun. As I tried to both run and draw from my ankle rig, I slipped on the mat, going face down for the second time in a minute.

I finally cleared the Model 60 from the holster and exited the second set of doors, looking left and right but not seeing the suspect. I went to my right because it offered the quickest path out of my field of view. As I rounded the corner of the hotel I saw the suspect in the distance just as he fired a round in my direction. At that moment, I did the only thing that I could possibly do. I tried to crawl into a crack in the pavement. Finally realizing this wasn’t a good idea, I moved to a wall and tried to get my bearings. It might come as a surprise that the suspect made a successful getaway. Hard to believe, isn’t it?

Gaining the Never-Again Attitude

My life changed that night. It wasn’t my finest hour, and I admit to a great deal of embarrassment regarding my preparation and performance. But as a professional trainer, if my mistakes can save a life, then a bit of embarrassment is a worthy price to pay.

I became a training “junkie.” A never-again attitude enveloped me, and I never used an ankle holster for primary carry again. Only a “hand full of gun” would be mounted on my belt. Even when carrying a back-up gun, I leaned toward pocket holsters because they required less movement. I was fitted for contact lenses, and tried to minimize my wearing of glasses. Looking back now, it’s a humorous story but one that also changed my life. Don’t take your security for granted. Bad things happen to good people in nice places, and I had to make sure it never happened to me again.




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Dave SpauldingDave Spaulding, the 2010 Law Officer Trainer of the Year and Law Officer's Firearms columnist, is a 28-year law enforcement veteran who retired at the rank of lieutenant.

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