Part 3

Texarkana Gun Club- The Early Years
Part 3 – IPSC

By Dennis Shirk

 

As stated earlier, the club probably began the first IPSC matches in the late ’70s. USPSA was in its infancy and the rules were very basic. The turn-out was extremely small and fifteen shooters was considered a large turnout. You must remember that this was before the days of electronic timers, so all match stages were started with a whistle and time was entered with a stopwatch. This created major problems, especially with comstock stages, as sometimes the range officer hit the stop button before the shooter had fired his last shot. The solution was the use of a whistle to start the course of fire and the use of the stop plate to end the stage and record the time. This meant that ALL stages (except for
Virginia count stages) had to employ a stop plate, which severely limited the course design. We improvised a system that employed the use of a stop plate sitting on top of a platform with a slot cut into the top shelf with a micro-switch attached to the bottom of the shelf. The activating arm of the micro-switch was mounted on the bottom of the top shelf and protruded through the cut-out in the base of the plate with the stop plate holding the switch arm down. A length of wire ran from the switch to a timer powered by a car battery. When the shooter shot the stop plate off of the platform, the power to the switch was terminated, the timer stopped running and the time was shown. This system also meant that all of the timing equipment had to be moved to the next stage and set up all over again. Since we always used a car battery from a member’s car, the car also had to be moved.

In the very beginning, scores were written down on a “Big Chief tablet and a crayon”, as no official scoring sheets were available, although we soon devised a more practical system using purpose-made scoring sheets. When the match was over, someone would calculate the final results using a hand calculator, which usually took about an hour. Those days, we always gave out trophies of some sort to the top three shooters in each class.

Apparently the pioneers of IPSC anticipated participation by revolver shooters, as most very early courses were designed to be “revolver neutral”, meaning that no more than six shots were to be fired from a single position. This accounts for the popularity of low round count stages such as El Presidente, Visa Presidente and Mozambique (“two in the body, one in the head, and you’re sure, that he’s dead”)

Another major issue in the early days was the holster. Whether a holster was legal or not
was often in debate, as the basic criterion was safe retention. It was not unusual for a
shooter to show up with a tie-down rig, which were soon outlawed. During that time, a
“holster retention test” was often employed. The earliest test was for the shooter to set on
the ground with his (unloaded) gun in the holster and then perform a backward roll. If the
gun stayed in the holster, it passed, if not, it failed. I remember one shooter, whose
holster was questionable, jam a stick between the gun and the holster to wedge the gun in
tight so as to pass. This “test” was replaced with one whereby the shooter was to jump
flat-footed over a bar placed about a foot off the ground. Again, if the gun stayed in
place, it passed. If it fell out onto the ground, it failed. I remember going to an Area 4 match in Dallas in the early ’80s and worrying about the legality of my holster. If the holster was deemed illegal, you did not shoot.

Another issue with the early rules was the subject of “weak hand” shooting, which really created safety issues. Under the rules, as they then existed, once a shooter began the weak hand portion of a stage, he (or she) was not allowed to touch the gun with the strong hand. This meant that if the stage description called for the course to start with the gun holstered, the draw had to be with the weak hand. Also, if the shooter suffered a malfunction, the gun had to be cleared with the weak hand only. A stovepipe was cleared by holding the slide between the shooter’s knees and attempting to clear the jam with only the weak hand…realism over safety. As I recall, this silly rule was changed early
on.

A minor issue was the complete lack of any storage space for targets or other match necessities at the range. The targets and other equipment were kept at a member’s house and were to be brought to the range on Sunday for the match, which was not a perfect plan. I remember one match day that I forgot to bring the targets to the match. I had to drive 20 miles back to my house to retrieve enough targets to shoot the match, which meant a one hour delay before we could shoot. This situation was partially solved by the construction of the pavilion, which was built entirely by volunteer club labor and some
donated materials. We had no money for a concrete floor, which was added years later.

Another problem we had involved target stands. The earliest design was made of round steel rod with the two legs ground sharp so as to stick into the ground. This presented a major challenge during summer matches as the ground was so hard that it was nearly impossible to install the target frames properly. At that time we had a member named Lonnie who was a real heavy weight. He could generally drive the frames into the ground by standing on them. We often joked that we could not hold a hot weather match unless Lonnie showed up. The steel stands were eventually replaced with stands using metal bases and more wood to eliminate the problems of ricochets and bent stands that could
only be repaired with a welder.

There was also the problem of power factor, as the chronograph had not yet been invented (or at least made available to the poor people). One of our members built a power factor device based on plans supplied by USPSA, which employed a steel weight on a pendulum and a pointer. The tester (or sometimes the shooter at club matches) shot the pendulum with the shooter’s gun and his match ammo. At that time the honor system dictated that the shooter use his actual match ammo for the power factor test, not some “special” loads that were used only for the power factor test. The impact of the bullet swung the pendulum and where the pointer stopped determined whether the load was
minor or major. A few years ago I restored that piece of ancient machinery and I suspect it is still stored somewhere at the range.

As time went on and the rules became more sophisticated, the need arose for qualified Range Officers. Sometime in the early or mid-’80s, Dave Stanford, USPSA President, came to Texarkana to hold Range Officer School, which was attended by six or eight

members. As I recall, USPSA supplied instructors for subsequent classes to train more RO’s. During this time as participation in matches increased, we hosted a number of shooting classes at the range, including classes put on by Ray Chapman, Mike Plaxco and John Shaw.

During the ’80s and ’90s we held a number of section matches at the range and at least two Area 4 matches, which were attended by a number of the top shooters, including Rob Leatham, Mike Plaxco, Brian Enos, and others. We also put on two or three night matches, which were held near Halloween. The first one was a roaring success with a large shooter turnout. However, the last night match dragged out for too long and the neighbors called the law, who shut us down, rightfully so.

A few personal reflections:

As the reader may have guessed, I have been around a few years. In case anyone is curious about how long I have been around, my USPSA membership number was A-612.

During those years, I was a Range Officer, a Chief Range Officer, and Section Coordinator. Over the years from the late ’70s until the late ’90s, I helped conduct monthly club matches and assisted with numerous section matches and two Area Four matches held at our range. I also found time to shoot a couple or three Area matches in Dallas and Dinosaur Valley and to RO a couple more. I shot the Nationals in Quincy, Illinois, for five years from 1989-1993.

I spent most of my shooting career as a mid-B shooter. The only major prize I ever won was a door prize in Dallas, a very nice cased Colt 1860 Navy .44 black powder revolver. At that same match, a couple from our Section was shooting in my squad. One of the stages was a high round count field course which was shot from behind a long straight line. At the start, the shooter had to engage a metal start plate set downrange at probably 40 or 50 yards. The lady in question was very small with a waist probably no larger than 20”, around which she had every magazine pouch she could fit. The problem was, she had difficulty hitting the steel plate and she must have fired half of her ammo before she
hit that plate. She finally hit it, but as I recall she did not have enough rounds left to finish the stage. Remember, this was the day when 8 rounds was a high-capacity magazine.

I guess that one of my favorite memories is from a stage we shot at the Nationals one year in Quincy. The stage in question was a 20-some round course that was computer-operated, with individual paper targets popping up one at a time for maybe 2 or 3 seconds before disappearing. Since the target duration was too short for a shooter to react and shoot, we were given “cheat sheets” containing the sequence of the target appearances, which we had to memorize. One shooter in my squad apparently decided that such study was unnecessary. At the buzzer, he drew his gun and started chasing the targets as they popped up. He was never able to fire a single shot before the stage ended…so much for
natural shooting ability.

Sometime in the late 90’s I developed shooter burn-out. I felt that over a period of twenty-odd years I had shot every possible scenario and there was nothing new under the sun. That plus the fact that I was increasingly unhappy with the situation with the USPSA, so I just bowed out.