A Model 27 Reborn
©2014 Thomas C. Dugas
In the early
90’s I was living in Texas, slowly working out the kinks in life and getting
firmly established in my career.
As the
saying goes, times were hard and money was short. But I had the good fortune of living near a
large metropolitan city and there was a gun show almost every weekend. I didn’t let lack of money keep me from my
favorite pastime. I handled a lot of
firearms in those days, looking for my next acquisition.
My arsenal
at the time was relatively small, mostly consisting of the firearms of my
youth. I had dutifully carried these old
friends with me after I departed home to make my way in the world. My battery consisted of a Mossberg Model 500
in 20 gauge, a Winchester Model 61 22LR; a Harrington & Richardson single
shot 20 gauge, and a well-worn Smith & Wesson Model 14-4.
All of those
firearms were old friends. The Mossberg
was the first firearm I ever paid cash money for, $74.95 at TG&Y. My mother attended the sale as I forked over
the cash in 1976. The H&R single
shot was a gift from my grand-father, the first firearm I had been trusted
with. The Winchester 22 was earned two
years later when I proved my responsibility with the shotgun. The lone revolver was a Smith & Wesson
Model 14-4 with a six inch barrel. I
earned it in trade over a long summer casting bullets for a Sheriff’s deputy in
my hometown. That Model 14 had kept me
company for 15 years as I matured. I had
shot thousands of rounds out of that Model 14, and considered myself a diehard
revolver fan.
My first job
after college was working at a large airport.
I had long hours and about 15,000 acres to occupy my time. I spent a
good amount of my time driving over the runways and taxiways. I was delighted to discover that part of my
duties would be monitoring the abundant wildlife both inside the airport
perimeter and outside of it. Long shifts
on the weekend had me watching deer, rabbits, and other critters scamper over
the airport, ignorant of the fence that was supposed to keep them at bay. From time to time we were required to thin
out the deer herd to reduce the population to manageable levels and keep deer
and airplanes separated. The deer were
inside the city limits and they seemed to know they were relatively safe from
most predators, both four legged and two legged.
My issued
firearm was a 12 gauge shotgun. A
handgun was deemed verboten by those in charge.
Getting into shotgun range with those wily whitetails brought back many
memories of hunting them in the Louisiana swamps and forests when I was a kid.
It wasn’t
long before my old friend the Model 14 managed to find its way into my duty
car. I’d take the opportunity to plink
at tin cans or other targets of opportunity on the weekend when things slowed
down at the airport. I shot mostly quiet
wadcutters or other ammunition I could scrounge up with my limited funds. I was never tempted to try my hand at hand
gunning a deer. I knew my limitations.
My running
partner was another airport employee who appreciated revolvers. Informal shooting matches would occur when
we’d partner up during a shift. He
carried a well-worn six inch Model 27-2.
We’d find a quiet spot and out would come the wheel guns. I remember thinking life wasn’t turning out
too bad. I had a job I was growing rather fond of and the benefits seemed to
outweigh the few hassles I occasionally encountered. Shooting at work was a perk I had not
discussed during the interview. I often
wonder what I would have said if asked about it.
On the
weekends I didn’t work I attended every local gun show, in those days they were
numerous. I was looking to upgrade my
handgun battery. One weekend found me
walking down the aisle at the Houston Astrohall Gun show and I stopped at a
dealer whose wares I knew well. A new
Smith & Wesson Model 27-2 with a 5 inch barrel was lying near his
hand. Cased in a presentation box with
the usual accessories, the revolver caught my eye. I kept my hands and heart steady and asked
him if I could examine it closely. Wise
old man that he was, he knew I had been hunting for a 5” 27 for some time. He handed over the revolver without a word
but a perceptible crinkle in the corner of his mouth told everyone he knew he
was about to make a sale.
He was and
he did. When I hefted that big N frame
in my hands I knew I had to have it. We
dickered a bit but I walked out of that gun show $500 poorer but with a big
grin on my face.
After I had
the 5” Model 27 in my hands I spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted
it to do for me. I purchased a small
amount of factory 357 ammunition and found the revolver had a large bark to go
with its bite. Shooting wadcutters
barely moved the pistol. On the back
forty of the airport a milder load was called for to keep things respectable as
to noise.
Visiting a
friend one weekend when he was cleaning house, I inherited about twenty years’
worth of “Shooting Times” magazines and rediscovered Skeeter Skelton. As a kid in South Louisiana I used to hang
out at the local drug store which had the only magazine rack in my small
town. I carefully held the pages by
their edges and read Skeeter’s stories which paralleled some of my youthful
antics. When I got the dusty magazines
home I found reloading articles in some of the yellowed pages, I decided I was
going to become serious about reloading for my new pistol.
Over the
next 15 years I developed a number of hand loads that shot well in the Model
27. An early favorite was Skeeter’s .38
Special load with the Lyman 358156 Gas Check.
I shot thousands of those rounds at various targets over the ensuring
years. But, I favored wadcutters for
plinking use. A lot of Texas cottontails
ended up in the pot because of those wadcutters.
That big N
frame seemed to fit my hands perfectly and it pointed right where I wanted to
shoot. It was a good match for the both
of us.
The revolver
slowly acquired the normal wear and tear of a weapon in near constant use. The finish began to thin in places, and nicks
and scratches begin to accumulate. Like
my favorite handgun, we both began to show the ravages of time. An unfortunate accident with a harsh chemical
on my work bench removed some of the bluing on the cylinder. I decided it added character and left it as
is.
A few years
after I purchased it I found myself in El Paso Saddlery while in El Paso for
business. While passing the time of day
at the small customer counter I noticed a box off to the side that contained
holsters for sale. Don advised me that
these were considered factory seconds for minor imperfections. As fate would have it, the first holster my
eyes dropped on was clearly for a left handed shooter (as I am). I pulled it out of the box and it was for a
5” N Frame, set for a cross draw. I had
to buy it. I don’t recall what the
asking price was but it I probably would have gladly paid twice for whatever
they asked for it. I didn’t need to
question good luck. I’ve been a fan of
El Paso Saddlery since that fortunate day.
That holster
and my 5” 27 met later that day and have spent the following years together in
my range bag. They were made for each
other.
Fast forward
to present day. After discovering that I
had shot 75,000 or more wadcutters in that Model 27, I wrote about it in an
article entitled “75,000
Wadcutters in a Model 27".
I was
surprised by how well it had held up over so many years of constant use.
As fate
would have it, the following month the trigger pin broke on the first round of
factory .357 I fired at a range session.
The revolver continued to function but I knew something was wrong with
the trigger after the first shot that day.
The drive
home was filled with anxiety and worry.
I confirmed
the broken trigger stud when I returned home and dissembled the revolver. My heart sank. I realized that for the past 15 years or more
that revolver had accompanied me to nearly every range session. It deserved another chance and I wasn’t ready
to part ways with it. I decided to
return the Model 27 to Smith & Wesson to get it repaired, and
re-blued. The cost of the repair never
entered my mind.
The next day
I took the unusual route of calling Smith & Wesson customer service instead
of email or a letter. A friendly
employee patiently listened to my plight as I detailed how long I had owned the
revolver and how much it meant to me. I
told her that it had to be repaired and returned to its former glory. She advised me that Smith & Wesson would
be happy to receive the revolver back at its place of birth and make the
necessary repairs. I was told to expect
a wait of 12 weeks or more. I wasn’t in
a hurry.
On August
31, 2012 I packaged the revolver for its return home and sent it via FedEx
overnight. The following Monday I was
notified that it had arrived safety.
Approximately two weeks later I received an invoice from Smith &
Wesson advising me of the repairs required and presenting the total. It was nearly what I had paid for the
revolver more than 20 years ago, but I didn’t hesitate. I called Smith & Wesson and promptly paid
the bill.
I didn’t
hear much until last October, a few months later. Returning home from work I noticed a FedEx
delivery tag stuck to my kitchen door. I
wasn’t sure what I had ordered but the tag was silent as to who the shipper
was. The Model 27 was way in the back of
my mind, but didn’t come to the forefront of my thoughts for some reason.
The
following morning I drove to the local FedEx depot and after presenting the
call tag I was handed a box that was heavy.
I couldn’t help but notice the Springfield MA return address and knew my
Model 27 had returned. Barely 90 days
had passed since I had returned it to its place of birth.
I didn’t
open the box until the following Sunday morning. It was nearly 7AM, a quiet day in Northern
VA. I sat at my reloading table on my
favorite stool. I took a sip of steaming hot coffee and then slowly peeled the
box open. Inside was a brown cardboard
box that I knew contained the revolver.
I opened it and under a sheet of S&W logoed VCI paper lay what
looked like a brand new version of my trusty old friend. I paused to take the view in as my eyes
traveled over the revolver.
The blue was
deep and even. Gone were the scratches
and damage to the finish from the accident years ago. A small Ziploc bag contained the replaced
parts that I had requested be returned.
I noticed Smith & Wesson had replaced the center pin, cylinder stop,
hand, missing ejector pins and various screws and springs. The action seemed a bit stiffer, but it was
hard to tell. It felt and looked as good
as new. The end shake and timing had
been checked and repaired. The barrel
had also been set back, due to wear. My
clearance gauge barely allowed a .003” blade between the cylinder and the
barrel. The replaced trigger stud was hard to discern under the deep blue
finish. Polishing the finish with a soft
towel revealed a deep dark blue finish that reminded me of the day I first
picked it up at that gun show.
I slid my
old friend back into that leather holster and put both in my range bag.
I was
impressed with the work. I was happy to
have my old friend back. I pondered how
easy it was to turn back the clock for that revolver and wondered if I could do
the same.
While the 27
had been home visiting with old friends, I had re-discovered my Model
14-4. I had not fired it since 1999
according to my range book. I was
surprised by how small the grip felt. My hands felt the difference between the
big N frame and the smaller K frame. I
was happy to discover it shot as well as I remembered. I put over a 1,000 rounds of wadcutters
through it while waiting for the 27 to return.
It seemed like old times.
Both
revolvers occupy a special place on my gun safe door. Near the top, along with the other firearms I
regularly take to the range.
I’m happy to
have my re-born 27 back. I felt like an
old friend was in the hospital and I couldn’t visit or know when he’d
return. When I slid it back into that
old holster the world felt right again.
I’ll bring
it with me to the range as I’ve always done.
Welcome back
old friend.
Before the
re-birth, circa 2010:
After (October
2012):
Close up of
the trigger stud replacement area on the frame
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