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The legend of a quick-draw artist growsBy BILL STEVENS
© St. Petersburg Times, Max Maxwell had seen them before: brash, cocky challengers looking to knock the old man off his perch. This "kid" knew he was faster. Don't they all? "He slapped his holster and nothing happened," recalled Maxwell's partner in law enforcement, Jackey Angelis. "He couldn't get the gun out." The name is withheld to protect the embarrassed. But in truth, it should come as no embarrassment to lose to Max Maxwell in a quick-draw contest. "He's a legend," said Angelis. "Don't know of anyone faster." He doesn't look like a gunslinger, and such terms are probably best saved for spaghetti westerns and Zane Grey novels. At 61, Maxwell's glasses have never been thicker, his hair never grayer. His two children are grown and grandkids are more important than some quick-draw competition. Still, it's a big deal at the police gun range. Reputations don't just slip away overnight and there's always somebody out there who thinks he's faster. If you travel Pasco's coastal waters with any regularity, you have seen Maxwell. In 29 years with the Florida Marine Patrol -- since 1999 known as the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission -- Maxwell has cut a wake from Aripeka to Anclote Key investigating everything from crab trap thefts to illegal netting and intoxicated boaters. He's been around so long, one of the former river rats who used to keep a lookout for Maxwell's boat on the Anclote River years ago is now his partner and 35. "We always used to say, "Mr. Maxwell's on the river; we'd better be good,' " said Angelis, who grew up in Tarpon Springs. One recent morning, as the sea was so still it looked like glass all the way to the horizon, the two officers stood beneath the shade of a palm and indulged a reporter who had only recently heard of the quick-draw legend. This would be a good place, perhaps, to mention that the reason you don't see a photo of Maxwell whipping out his 9mm Glock 17 is because policy forbids it -- unless, of course, there is a better reason. Duty schedule made it impossible to demonstrate at the range, which is in Citrus County. But Angelis offers credible testimony to Maxwell's prowess, as he is a certified gun range instructor for police officers who must qualify twice a year. Maxwell didn't set out to be faster on the draw than anybody else. A few years ago, his agency went to a new holster, a stiff, double-snapper that breaks from the back. Now the gun exits opposite from the direction that officers had grown accustomed to over the years. "I saw that double snap and feared I could have trouble if I ever needed to get my weapon out in a hurry, being an older guy and all," he explained. "So I started practicing at home. I had never practiced with the old holster because it was easy, but I got this thing mastered. The faster I got, the more speed I wanted." Maxwell, a former Marine, had always been a good shot. On the gun range, where officers shoot at 48 silhouettes and you have to hit at least 38 to qualify, he would routinely score in the mid- to high-40s. It doesn't count if you just nick the target. You have to hit a "kill zone," starting from 25 yards out and moving in to where the last target is just a foot away. The quick-draw element was optional, as officers reacted to real-life situations, such as a boating stop or traffic stop gone bad. Instructors came up with a sensor and electric timer to measure speed of the draw. Officers were required to be in an "interviewing" posture, not ready to draw. "The standard was a second and a half," said Angelis. "Max was the only one of more than 30 officers to shoot and hit a target in under a second." His fastest time was .78 of a second. Off the range, Maxwell is grateful that he hasn't had an occasion to pull his weapon in the line of duty. "Thank heavens, no," he said. "I hope I can end my career and not use it. I've been fortunate." Maxwell, who still speaks with the twang of his native south Georgia where he was the son of a dirt farmer, seemed amused that a reporter would seek him out to discuss his marksmanship. "How'd you find out?" he asked. "People talk," the reporter answered. And the legend grows. - Bill Stevens is North Suncoast editor for the St. Petersburg Times. © 2006 • All Rights Reserved • St. Petersburg Times
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