For Officer on Patrol at 78, the Beat Really Does Go On

When Chuck Garner recently attended his 60th high school reunion, he discovered he had little in common with his former classmates.

While most of them talked about retirement and their new roles as grandparents, he was sharing eye-popping accounts of drug busts and prostitution raids.

At 78, Garner is used to raising a few eyebrows when he tells people he still carries a gun and badge for the Republic Police Department. State officials believe--but can’t prove--that Garner may be the oldest active-duty officer in the state, if not the Midwest.

“There are probably people who think I have no business out there, but they never say anything. I can’t remember anybody ever throwing my age up to me,” says Garner, whose lean and muscular frame is far from the stereotype of most people his age. “Besides, I’ve already retired twice and it just won’t stick.”

He works 30 hours a week for Republic on a community policing grant, patrolling the neighborhoods of this mostly rural community west of Springfield.

Garner knows his city and the city knows Garner, evident from the affectionate shouts of “Hey Chuck!” from children as he passes schoolyards.

His wife, Marcella, jokes that the young drivers know Garner is softer on speeders than the other officers--he hasn’t written a ticket in nearly six years.

“The teenagers all say when they see a red light flashing behind them that they pray it’s Chuck. He may make you cry but he won’t give you a ticket,” she says.

Garner explains: “I found out a long time ago that handing out a ticket won’t make them slow down. You have to talk to them.”

Chief of Police Sam Hartsell says Garner brings an old-fashioned approach to a profession that has drifted away from the day when “community policing” was more than a political catch phrase.

“He is from the old school of cops,” says Hartsell, who at 53 is barely a year older than Garner’s own son. “He gets out of his patrol car and talks to people. He knows the businesses and the neighborhoods. He has the gift for gab.”

Garner admits he has slowed over the years and that rising for his 4 a.m. shift is getting harder. But Hartsell says his senior officer is as fit as any of his patrolmen.

“I wouldn’t hesitate sending him to back up anyone,” the chief said. “Matter of fact, with his street smarts and physical appearance, he is comparable to someone closer to half his age.”

Garner: New Recruits ‘Grab for Their Guns’

One of the few times Garner’s age becomes apparent is when he gripes about how policing has changed in his 50 years on the beat. Police today spend too much time dealing with unnecessary paperwork and defending their actions in court, he says--tasks that keep them from their primary duty.

Police training is another one of his beefs. Cocaine and methamphetamine have made police work as dangerous as ever, Garner says, but he is disappointed that new police recruits are not always trained to handle violent situations with nonviolent solutions.

“If they think they’re in any danger at all they grab for their guns; that’s what the manual tells them to do,” he says. “In my 50 years, I have drawn my gun no more than five or six times. There are other ways to handle things.”

To be fair, Garner himself got very little training before he walked into the Springfield Police Department in 1949 and asked Chief George Walker for a job. Back then, when there was an officer shortage, the chief was not always picky about whom he hired for the $150-a-month job, Garner says.

Garner had plenty of experience with weapons: He had been drafted into World War II and fought on the beaches of Normandy. His combat engineer battalion was one of the first to land on Omaha Beach and Garner received a presidential citation for fighting on D-Day.

His police training, however, consisted of a quick read of the manual while he waited for his uniform to be tailored.

“You got experience from walking the beat. Within a day I was out busting winos and prostitutes on the street,” he says.

Garner has switched agencies more than a few times over the years, and he jokes, “I’ve never stayed with one job long enough to retire.”

He has worked in Republic for almost 15 years and shows no signs of slowing down.

“I just like it,” Garner says. “When I leave here at 4 a.m. and crawl into a patrol car, I don’t have the slightest idea what’s going to happen one minute from then or an hour from then. You never know what you’re going to get into.”