The Origins of Ultrasonic Cleaning

Bouncing sound waves off of underwater objects was first used during World War I for submarine detection. The energy levels and frequencies are considerably different than those of an ultrasonic parts cleaners but the principle is the same: electricity is used to stimulate a disk, which generates mechanical waves. Your stereo speakers or headphones perform a similar function, only in air and in the sonic hearing range between 20 Hz to 20 kHz. Ultrasonic is defined as frequencies that are above this threshold of hearing.

The waves alternately compress and expand the molecules of the liquid in which the generating units or “transducers” are attached. During the expansion phase, bubbles are formed that are invisible to the naked eye. The bubbles are subjected to enormous pressures during the compression phase and collapse with tremendous force. Their microscopic size and the large volume of liquid in which they are formed absorb and buffer this energy release. Cumulatively there are millions of bubbles that produce the desired intense scrubbing action.

The optimum frequency for ultrasonic cleaning depends on the application. Heavy parts in large tanks clean best at 25 kHz. The optimum for firearms is around 40 kHz. Clocks and medical equipment do best at around 68 kHz. And finally, disk drives and semiconductor parts require the upper limit of 170 kHz since higher frequencies penetrate better in the inner workings of delicate components. While it may appear contradictory, lower frequencies exhibit a much more aggressive cleaning action. The bubbles formed are much larger and when they collapse, the implosions are powerful enough to knock the sand off of metal castings.

Another important concept is power. In air it is measured in decibels or dBA. In ultrasonic cleaning the power is expressed as watts per gallon. The power (or amplitude) of the waves generated must be sufficient to cause the pressure in the liquid at the point where a bubble forms to be less than the vapor pressure of the liquid. A few of the factors that influence the required power level to optimize cavitation are the type of liquid and its surface tension and temperature. Most industrial cleaners have a watt density of between 50 to 100 watts per gallon. In general, smaller parts requiring more thorough cleaning need a higher watt density.

It is important to understand this distinction if you are in the market for a used industrial unit. A unit coming out of a dental office would probably work well on handguns and parts, but one used in the semiconductor or metal casting industry may not. Indeed, the aggressive action of low frequencies, in addition to the very harsh cleaning solutions and long emersion times in industrial applications, would ruin most gun finishes.

Firearm Ultrasonic Cleaning Evolves

In the very early days, these key parameters were not well defined for most cleaning applications, let alone firearms. Since the 1950s there have been scores of companies that have come and gone, but among the most widely known and respected brands in business today are Blackstone-NEY Ultrasonics, Blue Wave Ultrasonics, Bransonic, Crest Ultrasonics, GunCleaners Division of Police Products Corporation, L&R Manufacturing, SharperTek, Ultrasonic Power Corporation, and Zenith Manufacturing.

The ultrasonic cleaning industry in the early days was filled with optimism and by the 1970s some of these commercial units were being tried ad hoc for firearms cleaning. The results were disappointing because the overall processes specific to firearms cleaning had not yet been perfected. Specifically, the cleaning liquids were toxic (e.g., trichloroethylene), smelly (e.g., popular gun cleaning and ammoniated solvents), flammable (e.g., kerosene), and/or corrosive (e.g., strong caustics).

That started to change in the 1990s. By then, L&R Manufacturing was producing a product line specific to firearms. Interest was growing, but it took two major developments to shift the firearms cleaning landscape to what is available today. Greg Infante, President of Police Products Corporation (who markets his systems under the name GunCleaners), picks up the story from here, “In 1994 I was in a major police department as part of a weapons upgrade project. I noticed that the armorer had a Crest Ultrasonic unit containing what appeared to be a typical flammable gun solvent. Aside from the fire hazard, it smelled awful. I thought, ‘There has to be a better way.’

“Soon thereafter I contacted Crest and worked out an agreement to be their exclusive distributor for firearm cleaning units. One of the first challenges was to develop cleaning and lubricating solutions that were nontoxic, nearly odorless, and very efficient. In effect, we needed to hit the right balance between the power of the units and the aggressiveness of the cleaning solution.

“The next challenge was to develop the overall process parameters such as time in tank, rinse, lubrication, and drying procedures. A special water-removing lubricant was also developed to be nonhazardous, odorless, and nonflammable that removes water through ultrasonic energy by emulsification rather than displacement with a solvent.”

Simultaneous with the evolution of the chemistry and the process steps for firearms cleaning was the development of better, yet less expensive, hardware and tanks specifically designed to handle long guns. Internals became more reliable with new designs incorporating higher powered and longer lasting wave generators. Fabrication techniques improved to minimize the erosion of the generating diaphragms. Heaters became standard on firearm cleaning tanks. Foreign imports also had a major impact on putting these improved units within reach of any shooter. Indeed, small, inexpensive cleaners are currently available to clean brass for shooters. Both RCBS and Lyman now offer such units.

One of the additional benefits of owning an ultrasonic unit is that it can be used for so many other cleaning purposes besides just firearms and brass. It’s perfect for shooters who are mechanically inclined and have hobbies such as tinkering with old cars, especially carburetors, and antique mechanical clocks.

Current State – Going Very High Tech

The original ultrasonic cleaning units could only generate a single frequency. Standing waves – the repeat bombardment of the same frequency wave to the surface location – can be an issue for parts that are very sensitive to cavitation attach, such as shiny, soft aluminum. Some units “sweep” the frequency over a few kHz range to help prevent standing waves and de-gas the solution from entrapped vapors that might reduce efficient cleaning.

This technology allows a set frequency (e.g., 40 kHz) to be raised or lowered about 2%. In so doing, it continuously changes the conical ultrasonic wave form and helps to reduce energy dead spots. High-end industrial cleaning systems were the first to incorporate this sophisticated feature, and now they are common on the larger firearm cleaning units used for rifles.

Another development was the invention of wave generators that send out two or more frequencies simultaneously, such as those offered by Zenith Manufacturing. Further innovation includes the use of arrays of two different transducers; each emitting a different frequency to cover a much broader range than a sweep frequency can deliver. Each frequency has a range of surface particles that it can best remove.

Yet another development was the invention of electronics to optimize the running frequency of a system, according to its natural resonance. The natural resonance depends on factors such as the transducer frequency, tank material thickness, cleaning solution properties, and other related system properties. Systems such as the SharperTek’s Auto-Tune and Auto-Track system continuously search for the optimal running frequency.

In very specific industrial application, all these new bells and whistles are essential. Large high-end firearm cleaning units, especially those large enough to clean rifles, often contain these features, such as Crest True Sweep and L&R Manufacturing’s SweepZone. But even for economical benchtop cleaners suitable only for a single handgun, the cleaning solutions, process, and hardware have never been better and priced so reasonably.

Using the Units Properly

Instructions for systems vary from manufacturer to manufacturer, but the basics are all the same. Firearms must be unloaded, of course, and for best results, field stripped. Removal of some types of grips, forends and stocks can be labor intensive, but if these are synthetic, they can stay on. Wooden furniture must always come off. The same applies to telescopic, electronic, and laser sights.

The cleaning solution concentrate should be diluted according to the manufacturer’s recommendations. Dilution ratios vary among products, thus one should consider the “true” cost when selecting a cleaner. Everything should be left unplugged until the solution is added. Running ultrasonic units empty or at below recommended levels can damage the transducers. Fresh cleaning solutions should be “degassed” of entrapped gasses by running the system for about five minutes.

There is an optimum temperature range to promote cavitation and while room temperature works, 120-130° F is ideal for today’s solutions. Temperatures as high as 150° F are possible, but the parts become too hot to safely handle without protection. Evaporation losses also increase and manufacturers such as Crest Ultrasonics do recommend elevated temperatures when the parts are coated with heavy greases such as Cosmoline.

It is important that parts are kept off of the tank floor where the transducers are, in most cases, attached. Parts must be suspended and most units are supplied with stainless steel wire baskets made from square weave, 3 mesh, or lower stainless steel. There is a reason. Mesh above 50 acts as a solid to the ultrasonic waves. Suspension hooks from rubber and nonrigid plastics absorb energy and should be used sparingly.

The amount of loading also affects performance and tanks should be filled to less than half the weight of the water volume. For example, if a unit’s capacity is two gallons or about 16 pounds, no more than eight pounds should be loaded. Another guideline is that the cross-sectional area of the parts should not exceed 70% of the tank’s cross-sectional area. Just like doing loads of household laundry: two small loads get the wash cleaner than one large load.

The parts in the basket should be tipped to release trapped air. Slides and receivers should be placed dirty side facing down. Revolvers should have cylinders open and ejectors held open with some object such as a coin. For best results, hammers should be cocked during half of the cycle and down the remaining time.

Now comes the most critical step: set the timer to no more than the maximum recommended time. This may be only five minutes for most firearms. For anodized, parkerized, baked-on paint finishes, and specialty finishes, the maximum time may be even less. If your unit does not come supplied with an internal timer, get an external in-line one and use it. Do not count on your memory to shut the unit off at the right time.

Non-baked-on painted finishes can be particularly sensitive to damage, including painted sights and cartouches. Indeed, manufacturers such as Crest Ultrasonics recommend that painted pictograms or cartouches be first coated over with a wax crayon. By the time the wax is ultrasonically removed, the overall firearm is done.

With ultrasonic cleaning, less is better. For extremely dirty areas and especially bores, some mechanical brushing and re-submersion for a few minutes will yield the best results. Problems occur when individuals assume more is better; and even the thickest of fouling will be removed without brushing.

Once cleaned, the firearms are drained, rinsed with water, and dried. Again, there are variations on how best to accomplish this, including the use of compressed air. Common sense should be used. For example, the hardened gunk in the firing pin channel will be loosened, but unless it is mechanically scrubbed or blown free with compressed air, it will remain entrapped.

The next step is to coat the parts to displace any residual trapped water and provide a protective coating. Parts can be sprayed or submerged with a water-displacement solution that also protects and lubricates. But the best method is to place the cleaned parts into a basket suspended in a pan containing an ultrasonic displacement lubricant. This pan rests on top of the cleaning solution and the unit is run for several additional minutes. The ultrasonic waves are transmitted through the bottom of the pan into the lubricant.

Finally, the parts are drained and the excess lubricant is removed with a rag and, if available, with compressed air. The gun is then assembled and lubricated and/or greased according to the firearm manufacturer’s recommendation.

Controversy Over Damage To Finishes

What are the facts? Yes, ultrasonic cleaning can cause surface erosion to some finishes. The extent varies from zero for stainless steel to significant for non-baked-on paints if the wrong cleaning solvents are used for long periods of time. Softer, shiny metals such as aluminum foil show the effect most dramatically. Weapons made from 7075 alloy aluminum with a hard anodized finish can also be impacted if all the wrong parameters are employed and the finish is not the best quality.

Monty Crain, head of Brownells’ technology group, states, “After cleaning our M16s and M4s about 10 times [typically made from 7075 alloy], you could see some of the anodizing becoming lighter, most likely due to a poor finish at the manufacturer. Those were probably because of extended cleaning times due to distractions while busy on other tasks.

“If you violate the canons of good gun cleaning and leave any surface in any cleaning solution too long, you will suffer the wrath. All ultrasonic cleaners will damage any painted surface within 15 minutes of submersion if it is not a baked-on finish. Fifteen minutes should be the rule of thumb on submersion for most surfaces because you are only loosening the grime, and some physical scrubbing is required to remove the particulates from the surfaces, both internal and external.

“All vagaries aside, it will also depend on the type and quality of the coating. I have left parkerized parts in for well over 15 minutes and all but a mere vestige of parkerizing was gone. Teflon/Moly, Aluma Hyde II, Dura Coat, Aluma Hyde, Spray Texture, Camo colors, and so on can be adversely impacted at times exceeding 30 minutes in certain ultrasonic cleaners and solvents. There are no standards for damage/time estimates as no destructive tests have been performed.”

Ultrasonic cleaner manufacturers recommend much less time-in-tank. Fifteen minutes, as stated by Monty Crain above, should be considered an upper limit never to be exceeded. Three-to-five minute durations followed by a little brushing and another minute or two in the tank will get the job done faster with little or no finish damage, according to Greg Infante of GunCleaners.

What about the major firearm manufacturers? Glock USA states that ultrasonic cleaning is not an issue for their line of products, as long as “non-ammoniated cleaners are used.” Both the polymer and the metal finish can be impacted if the wrong solutions are used. Ultrasonic cleaning solvents for firearms are typically advertised as alkaline biodegradable water-based solutions that are ammonia and caustic free. Glock USA also states that their tritium sights are not affected. Ultrasonic unit manufacturers recommend that these sights be positioned face up or away from the bottom of the tank for additional protection.

Sam Bass, Heckler & Koch’s Repair Manager for the U.S., states that their product lines are ultrasonic safe. “The most important issue concerning ultrasonic cleaning is to use the right solution at the right temperature and for the correct time. We have not seen damage from cavitation; if there is damage it is because of excessively harsh or caustic solutions. Yes, the paint inside the engraved cartouches can be gradually removed.” As stated earlier, some ultrasonic manufacturers recommend that these engravings be filled with wax crayon.

Sam discloses another key factor, “It is important to correctly position the parts in the tank. You should take a look at each part and determine the best path for the loosened gunk to flow out and away from the part. For example, when cleaning an MP5 trigger group, the unit should be placed vertically so the sediment flows down, especially if the trigger assembly is not removed from the trigger housing. This same concept applies to pistols and, in particular, the firing pin channels. These may need to be stripped and cleaned of the loosened gunk. What we have also seen is that the cleaning solvent and the oil trapped inside after cleaning may eventually react together and turn into something resembling pine tar. Obviously this can create a dangerous situation with regard to reliable firing pin function.”

What about the specialty finishers? Robbie Barrkman at Robar states that NP3 coatings are completely ultrasonic safe. Similarly, Chris Peters of Metaloy Industries states, “Ultrasonic cleaners, when used properly, will have no effect on firearms finishes, be it hard chrome, parkerizing, bluing, and the spray and baked-on finishes. I highly doubt these units damage gun finishes since they would not make their way into many police departments, military units, or small gun shops.

“What I believe is the problem is the improper use of the units. For example, not racking the parts properly, letting parts, frames, and slides touch while in the operating unit and scratching the finishes that way rather than because of the unit cleaning and doing its job. If not racked or put in a wire basket, the ultrasonic waves in the cleaning solution could possibly move or vibrate the parts together causing damage. I also doubt the manufacturer-supplied cleaning solutions are at fault since most water-based solutions are nontoxic and environmentally friendly. We recently purchased a small ultrasonic unit for other projects and for R&D purposes. It works very well. We have experienced no damage to our finishes or any others.”

Others within this community of finishers have strong reservations. Bob Ford of Bear Coat Gun Finishes states, “They can do significant damage to ‘coated’ firearms and aluminum. It’s called read the directions! With clean solvent they are okay. Most users do not filter or clean the material being used, trying to get as much mileage as possible out of it. With any buildup of trash in the solvent, a firearm sitting in the ultrasonic device will use the combination of ultrasonic vibration and contaminants as a grinding compound and will damage the firearm. We have had police departments all over the country send in firearms for rescue from such damage. Mostly SIGs, Colt ARs, and some coated firearms.”

What about the suppliers of sights? As previously stated, painted sights can be problematic unless pre-coated with wax. Tritium sights are less prone to damage. Glock USA has not had problems, and Trijicon states in a letter to Police Products Corporation that its sights are “impervious to oils and solvents, with the exception of any solvents such as acetone or ethanol that could have a negative impact” on the paints and cements used in their sights. Ultrasonic cleaners used “to clean a weapon with Trijicon sights will have no effect on the sights” unless the wrong solvents are used.

What about suppressor manufacturers? Modern suppressors are typically sealed units and, one would think, an ideal candidate for ultrasonic cleaning. But “cleaner is better” does not apply to suppressors. Tom Bowers of Bowers Group LLC explains, “The shiny internals of new suppressors are reflective. Some fouling will slightly improve performance. Of course, if the unit is literally plugged with material, the performance will be dramatically reduced, but we have rarely seen this under normal use.

“If a suppressor is significantly impacted with fouling and lead deposits, it is unlikely that ultrasonic cleaning would even work. Some suppressors are of ‘open architecture’ and more easily cleaned, even by ultrasonics, but some, such as those based on a K-baffle design, utilize voids with small access holes. Even if the fouling is loosened, much of it will typically remain entrapped and the suppressor cannot be completely drained. If the unit is entirely stainless steel, solutions can be used that will dissolve everything, including aluminum. You have to know the construction since some units have stainless on the outside but aluminum on the inside. It is best to let the original manufacturer handle service, and we don’t recommend cleaning of any type to our clients. People who have competing products should consult with the manufacturer for instructions related to those products.”

Another claim is that these devices may propagate preexisting surface cracks. Yes, if there are cracks, ultrasonics will “clean them,” but we have found no documentation of properly used ultrasonic cleaning propagating these further.

Features To Consider When Buying

If you are in the market for an ultrasonic unit, the first step is to map out exactly what you want to accomplish. For example, there is a major jump in cost if you want to clean rifles versus just pistols and small parts. There are also differences in the recommended process (i.e., how long each step should take, drying, use of compressed air, and so on).

Costs vary widely starting with tabletop imports for brass less than $200; to single pistol, one-gallon imported units at about $400; to $700 for two-gun units; to $1,700 for units large enough to handle seven guns, submachine guns, or rifle barrels. Domestic units are generally 30% (or more) higher with large rifle-size tanks costing over $5,000. Used industrial units can offer a distinct cost advantage, but they could prove to be a fool’s investment if they are not at the proper frequencies and power levels.

Another fool’s investment is to use homemade cleaning solutions. The factors that go into commercial cleaning solutions include deformers, dispersants, emulsifiers, inhibitors, and wetting agents. Fine if you are a chemist, but beyond the reach of most shooters. If you are using your unit to clean auto parts, by all means, make your own solution with a mixture of a cup of Simple Green and a tablespoon of dish detergent to about five gallons of water. It may work just fine. We provide this formula because if you should run across this or another cheap homemade ultrasonic cleaner in the context of firearms, watch out.

Conclusion

Which brings us to the key point of all this background information: cleaning firearms using an ultrasonic cleaner requires the right frequency, power level, and cleaning solution in a system properly loaded and operated for the proper length of time. If you go significantly outside this set of parameters, you may at best get little cleaning action, or at worst, wreck the finish on a valuable gun. If used properly, they can dramatically cut cleaning times and clean hard-to-reach nooks and crannies like no other method. Be they the manufacturers of the units or firearms, the distributors, or the coating companies, they all agree on this point.

(This article would not have been possible without the assistance of the following individuals, organizations, and companies: Bob Ford, Bear Coat Gun Finishes; Branson Ultrasonics; Chris Peters, Metaloy Industries; Crest Ultrasonics; Dr. Lawrence Crum, University of Washington; Fran Rickenbach, Ultrasonic Industry Association; Glock USA; Greg Infante, Police Products Corporation; Jennifer Dorywalski, Sharpertek USA; Lyman Products; Mike Kodner, Ultrasonic Power Corporation; Monty Crain, Brownells; Rachel Kohn, Tovatech; RCBS; Robbie Barrkman, The Robar Companies; Sam Bass, Heckler & Koch USA; TechPlate; Tom Bowers, Bowers Group; Trijicon.)

Do’s:

• Follow the manufacturer’s instructions to the letter.
• Closely monitor performance to further refine your own cleaning process; there is a learning curve where you will see what the system can and can’t do.
• Use commercial solutions specifically designed for firearms.
• Fill the tanks with the power cord unplugged.
• Use in a well-ventilated area.
• Disassemble as far as practicable.
• Keep the parts properly spaced and suspended above the bottom.
• Follow local regulations for spent solutions that may contain lead.
• Get the loosened gunk out of trapped areas either by disassembly and mechanical cleaning or by using compressed air.
• Thoroughly rinse and dry parts and immediately coat to prevent rust.
• Lubricate as per the firearm manufacturer’s recommendations after cleaning.
• Filter the solutions and clean your tank routinely; the manufacturer’s recommendations should be the minimum.
• Make up evaporation loss with fresh water.
• Check pins and screws that may have loosened up after the crud was removed.
• Wash hands; the solutions may contain lead
• Before you buy a used industrial unit, do the necessary research to check if it has the proper operating frequencies and power loading.

Don’ts:

• Work outside the recommended cleaning times.
• Use homemade solutions.
• Overload the tank.
• Place wooden “furniture” in the tank.
• Smoke while operating the unit; the solutions may contain lead.
• Put hands directly in tank when it is operating.
• Use compressed air to blow out gunk at such a high pressure that it atomizes the cleaner/lube and creates a health hazard.

The holy grail of any gun library is an autographed five-volume set of The Machine Gun, by Col. George Chinn, United States Navy Department Bureau of Ordnance. On the inside back cover of Volume 5 are photographs of small arms legends such as Eugene Stoner and William Ruger next to one of William H. Woodin. The reaction of most readers might be, “Woodin who?,” but to forensic scientists, ammunition collectors, small arms authors, researchers, and inventors around the world, it is a name that ranks right up there with other industry notables.

This article is about Woodin Laboratory, described by Pepper Burruss, president of the International Ammunition Association (IAA), as “the international center for the study of post-1880 military and police ammunition under 35mm. It traces the entire evolution of modern small arms ammunition. No other collection, government or private, comes close. It contains many thousands of specimens, scores of which are the only known examples in existence.”

Woodin Laboratory was built in 1973 near Tucson, Arizona, and is a private operating foundation, qualifying under section 501(c)(3) of the Internal Revenue Code. As such, it is an educational institute and contributions to it are tax deductible. The 3,000 square foot windowless, partially underground vault is constructed entirely of masonry block and reinforced concrete slabs. The structure is equipped with appropriate fire safety and security devices and is ideally suited for cartridge storage.

The floor space is sub-divided into the main research area, inventory storage rooms, a photo and X-ray lab, and offices. There is an extensive library of reference material. Walls not lined with cartridge storage cases or bookcases are covered with cartridge display boards. This collection of boards, many of which are contained in the rows of storage cases, represents probably the largest board collection in the world of military and police ammunition. The Lab obtains these boards not just because they are interesting to examine but because they sometimes contain the only remaining samples of specific cartridges.

Besides Mr. Woodin, the lab depends on volunteer workers; regulars are Norman D. Hower, a Lab Director, and A. Donald Amesbury, founder of what is now the IAA. Additional support staff and workers come from out of state or even other countries.

There are a total of nine Lab Directors and altogether they have written and published scores of articles in the various cartridge journals around the world. For example, Frank W. Hackley (Col., USA, Ret, and past Commanding Officer of both the Lake City Army Ammunition Plant and Frankford Arsenal), Bill Woodin and illustrator Eugene L. Scranton have written two volumes on the history of modern U.S. military small arms ammunition. The third in the series covering the period 1946 – 1977, is nearing completion.

This article is also about the man behind the Lab, Bill Woodin. Few know of him outside the ammunition and forensic communities because he is an extremely private and modest individual. Indeed, Small Arms Review is privileged to publish the first ever in-depth interview and description of the Lab.

Bill never discusses his professional honors but with some research and prodding we are able to provide a few examples here. He is Technical Advisor to and Distinguished Life Member of AFTE (Association of Firearm and Tool Mark Examiners), Past President and Fellow of the Arizona (now Arizona-Nevada) Academy of Science, Fellow of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, Life Member of the National Defense Industrial Association, and a former Consultant to the U. S. Army Armament Research and Development Command (Armament Concepts Office). His grandfather was Secretary of the Treasury under Franklin D. Roosevelt and was in the thick of the battles over taking the U.S. off the gold standard and creating the forerunner of the FDIC (Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation) during the Depression. Bill is one of the original founders of what became the IAA and has remained an active contributor to its publications and bi-monthly journal over the last 55 years.

The Early Days

SAR: What got you started in cartridge collecting?

Woodin: I think I must have some sort of gene for collecting. My first interest was collecting snakes during the early years in Arizona – where we had moved for my father’s health – starting in 1930 at the age of four.

After my parents divorced, my mother later married Melville H. Haskell who was a horse breeder and a founder of the American Quarter Horse Association. He was a shooter and was interested in guns. He introduced me to shooting at an early age and instilled in me a real respect for guns and gun safety – to this day I get the creeps when someone points anything at me, even a finger. He also supported me in my growing interest in ammunition and we would go around to gun stores and try to talk them into selling single cartridges. This only seemed to work if there were partial boxes.

I also spent a lot of time out and about looking for snakes and arrowheads on the ranch and fortunately, since I’m still alive today, my mother would not allow me to collect poisonous snakes. That came later. (Laughs).

Snakes were a primary interest back then and this led to a degree in zoology at the University of Arizona and later a graduate degree in zoology at the University of California – Berkeley. My specialty at Berkeley was herpetology (the study of reptiles and amphibians). I suppose I must have been born with the same collector gene as J Curtis Earl, the famous Class 3 gun dealer. He started collecting arrowheads on his parents’ farm, majored in wildlife biology, raised turtles, lived in Arizona, and collected guns. I knew him and once testified in his defense at a trial where they needed someone who knew something about cannon ammunition.

SAR: Was it your involvement in WWII that got you interested specifically in military and police cartridges?

Woodin: Actually, I was interested in this field long before then. I joined the American Field Service, which operated in all the theaters, and provided ambulance drivers for the British army. Technically I was a civilian and I drove a jeep ambulance shuttling wounded soldiers from the front lines, where they received first aid to stabilize their wounds, back to the field hospitals. I requested that I be sent to India and Burma because that is where the best snakes are. (Everyone laughs) No, I’m not kidding. I had two Indian pythons and a cobra, among others, at various times.

I was first stationed in Imphal in northeast India, arriving after the great battle of Kohima, which halted the Japanese invasion of India, and was attached to a Punjab battalion of the Indian army. The ammunition dump at Imphal was a treasure trove, especially since I was interested in artillery ammunition at the time. After deactivating whatever ones I could, I would mail them home to my mother, who was a good sport about this. So was the mailman who lugged armfuls to her front door. My mother told me that one time a heavy package had disintegrated and he wrapped his belt around the shells to lug them up the driveway to the house.

I also collected some guns, trading a carton of cigarettes for a Japanese Type 96 light machine gun which had just been captured by a tank crew. Back then you could bring back such weapons with the proper paperwork and get them registered under the non-willful violation clause. Another time I came upon a bank in Burma that had just been liberated, and there were stacks of new Japanese occupation currency. That got me off on another collecting diversion. I also got interested in edged weapons. And after I found a very unusual Japanese hand grenade in a village we had just captured, I deactivated it and started collecting other grenades.

I decided that if I was going to do any significant research in this field, I had better define my parameters. I decided to stay under 37mm since there are numerous 37mm variants, used by a multitude of countries. Indeed, there have been so many over the years that a specialist in this field, Robert Mellichamp, is currently writing a multi-volume set on just this one caliber. Later, when Oerlikon developed its famous 35mm antiaircraft system, I decided that was a good caliber to stay under also.

SAR: When did it change from a hobby to a serious research endeavor?

Woodin: After the war I really got serious in expanding my collection and studying the development of military and police ammunition. Interest in cartridges was growing, and in 1955 the Cartridge Collector’s Club was formed. In 1961 this club joined with the slightly younger National Cartridge Collectors Association and became the International Cartridge Collectors Association (ICCA). In 1993 it became the International Ammunition Association (IAA). The European association was founded in 1964 as ECCC, later ECRA, European Cartridge Research Association. And a number other countries, such as Australia, Czech Republic, Slovakia, New Zealand and South Africa, have their own active associations. Also several states have their own groups.

I was not interested in sporting or commercial ammunition, just this narrower field. It is impossible to be knowledgeable about or have an extensive collection in every area since the possibilities are enormous. Serious collectors target one or a few cartridge types or related areas such as belts, clips, chargers, powder cans, storage boxes and so on. For example, as large as the Lab is, it still represents only a small sampling of the military and police cartridges that have been made since 1880. People who have seen the Lab may find this difficult to grasp.

SAR: Were you buying or trading or both to build the collection?

Woodin: Both. I was running ads in the 1950s offering to buy cartridges that I did not have in my field of interest. At the same time, I was also building my trading inventory. (Pepper Burruss states, “The Lab’s trading inventory alone is far larger than the collections of most IAA members.”)

A trading inventory is essential, since many serious collectors are reluctant to sell rare cartridges, but they will gladly trade a duplicate sample from their own inventories for another that they do not have. There are probably at least 10,000 serious collectors in the world and, of course, supply and demand sets the price. Rare and one-of-a-kind examples can bring as much as $1,000 or more.

After finishing my graduate work at the University of California I was able to land a job at the newly-formed Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum outside of Tucson and became Director from 1954 to 1971. It is a combination zoo, museum, geology exhibit and botanical garden, all focused on interpreting the Sonoran Desert region. It was the perfect environment for me.

Awareness of the collection spreads

SAR: How did the word spread about your collection and your expertise?

Woodin: The ads contributed, of course, and I was also writing for the newsletters and journals of the various collector organizations. I generally write about cartridge areas where little or nothing has been written previously. Information on the older cartridges is often not easily available because the factory records have been destroyed. I use patents, historical archives, old books, a network of experts, interviews with industry personnel, and, of course, samples from the Lab and other collectors.

I suppose word of mouth was also a major factor in getting the word around. In addition, there was a real need among forensic laboratories for information or samples. For this reason I was accepted by AFTE (Association of Firearm and Toolmark Examiners) in 1975. As the word spread, I started getting more and more calls. For example, after the Kennedy assassination I received a call from the House Select Committee on Assassinations which wanted samples of the identical cartridges that were used in that 6.5 mm Carcano rifle. And they wanted them NOW! Many people assumed that he was shot with Italian war surplus ammunition. In fact, it was contract ammunition made by Western Cartridge Company in the U.S. in 1954, with a WCC headstamp.

Another interesting example was research on a rifle cartridge that no one seemed to be able to identify the rifle it was used in. It was a cartridge in search of a gun. Then, Herbert Woodend of the British Ministry of Defense Pattern Room, told me they had received a rare Chinese version of the 8mm Austrian Model 1888-90 Mannlicher and supplied us with a chamber cast. Sure enough, it matched perfectly. Since the cartridge itself didn’t have a name (just being identified by the rifle) I named it 7.62 x 55R and wrote an IAA Journal article about it. It is like discovering a star: you get naming rights.

Yet another example was when George Chinn called and said he needed help with some cartridge photos. I assumed he was sending me a list of cartridges. Instead he sent me a list of weapons and I had to figure out the correct cartridge for each. For me, these investigations and links to history are what make cartridge research so much fun.

SAR: Why did you decide to build the Lab?

Woodin: My collection finally reached the point where I needed more space. On top of that, inquiries were coming in at such a rate that a dedicated facility was needed to properly respond. So after I retired from the Desert Museum in 1971, and had the time, I built the Lab.

SAR: How do you keep track of all these cartridges?

Woodin: The Lab started well before the age of computers, so we set up a card file system. The only cartridges we formally catalog are those that have box labels or other special information that would not otherwise be known. Only about ten percent are cataloged in this way. All are stored by caliber in specially-made drawers, starting with the country of origin, then alphabetically by country, with an unidentified section at the end. The library is chiefly indexed by country, and there is also a section containing general information, including foreign language and other special dictionaries which are so important to the cartridge researcher.

Cartridge development

SAR: Who in the past did R&D on military and police cartridges? What about today?

Woodin: In the U.S., Frankford Arsenal did much of the military experimental work, which became dispersed after its closure in 1977. Important work was done in Europe in the late nineteenth century, for example by the Swiss pioneer Eduard Rubin who developed the small-caliber jacketed bullet, and Friedrich Hebler who designed rifle calibers as small as 5mm. Hebler also worked on tubular bullet designs, developed further in modern times by the prolific U.S. inventor, the late Abraham Flatau. A very imaginative and prolific modern-day experimenter was the German Hans-Ludwig Scherniker.

Alternative case materials were also developed early. For example, Frankford Arsenal made .30-40 Krag aluminum cases in 1895; the German firm Polte, Magdeburg made aluminum cased 8mm M88 ammunition with steel heads in 1893; Austria made 8x50R aluminum cases and celluloid cases with aluminum heads prior to World War I; and steel was used very early, titanium alloys were tried, and so forth.

Military arsenals, of course, and large companies such as Bofors and Oerlikon are experimenting in this field today. There have also been a number of private individuals – outstanding examples would be the late Maxwell Atchisson and Gordon Ingram – and smaller companies in this country, such as Engel Ballistic Research, Silver State Armory, SSK Industries, and many others. We would like to do a better job of keeping track of all of these R&D efforts and obtain samples of their work.

SAR: What have been some of the milestones along the way and some of the more interesting cartridges?

Woodin: The transition from black powder to smokeless was of course extremely important. I have always been intrigued by the taper-bore experiments of Hermann Gerlich and Frantisek Janecek in which the diameter of the bullet was reduced before exiting the barrel. Russell Robinson designed a similar type, the Salvo Squeezebore, which squeezed and separated multiple bullets. Other interesting innovations have been directed at shortening the length of the cartridge by having the powder alongside instead of behind the bullet. Frankford Arsenal accomplished this with their “folded” cartridge and Hughes with their “chicklet” and lockless system.

Caseless ammunition is another interesting type, nearly adopted by Germany in their G-11 rifle, and there are still ongoing attempts to perfect that design. There have been the unusual rocket cartridges such as the MBA Gyrojet as well as electronic ignition systems. During WW2, the Hungarian engineer Bela Zettl developed a multi-bullet cartridge which the Luftwaffe nearly adopted as the H.F. 15, with a cyclic rate of 36,000 rpm. The U.S. was also sufficiently intrigued by this design to experiment with it.

Cartridge case headstamps are an interesting and complicated field, and we get many inquiries about these. New companies, including small operations, are continually appearing, often using their own headstamps. And there are many special headstamps used on contract ammunition, the meaning of which even the manufacturer may not know. Keeping track of all this is nigh impossible. Some are deliberately deceptive; for example China made .30 carbine ammunition which looks like Lake City production, complete with an L C 52 headstamp. Reloaders were puzzled when they discovered rounds with this headstamp using Berdan primers.

It would be nice, of course, if each manufacturer kept us up to date and saved samples of their products, but that is not very likely. I guess the bottom line is that if readers think they may have something of interest to the Lab, we would certainly be glad to hear from them.

Visiting the Lab

SAR: Who have been some of the more well-known visitors to the collection?

Woodin: We have had a full spectrum, from the infamous such as William Thoresen, the machine gun collector who was killed by his wife Louise who later wrote about it in the book, It Gave Everybody Something To Do, to famous inventors such as the U.S.’s Eugene Stoner and Australia’s Russell Robinson who designed the Salvo Squeezebore system. He ended up living close to the Lab so that he could have easy access to it, and also he and his wife liked the area.

We have had collectors from just about every cartridge organization around the world. Ken Elks was here recently doing research for an upcoming book on Chinese ammunition, and before that for work on his Japanese ammunition books. Christian Koll from Linz, Austria, was here doing work for his book on Soviet cannons. Mel Carpenter spent some time here, researching ammunition for his forthcoming book on MBA Gyrojets and other products. Mel also brought a new cabinet in which he arranged our collection of Gyrojets. Peter Labbett, the expert on British ammunition, did research here. Jean Huon, the French ammunition author who has written for Small Arms Review, was here. The European association, ECRA, sent the person working on their database system to enter over 500 new case types over a two month period. Just recently the ECRA photographer was here to photograph all these new additions. And of course numerous criminalists have visited from forensic labs around the world.

SAR: By now some SAR readers are probably wondering how they could visit the Lab.

Woodin: It is not open to the general public and our time is limited, but members of cartridge organizations, AFTE members, law enforcement, serious researchers, writers and historians are generally welcome. We do not charge for queries, but have a good working relationship with the crime labs and others, who in turn are generous with supplying samples we need. And they are always on the lookout for items of possible interest.

(Author’s note: Pepper Burruss recommends visiting a cartridge show to get a taste of the hobby and science of cartridge collecting. Regional and local shows are held throughout the world. In the United States the most prominent gathering is the annual St. Louis International Cartridge Show (SLICS) generally held the days proceeding the Easter weekend. It is also an opportunity to meet Bill Woodin since he has never missed that gathering since its inception in the late 1960s.)

The Future

SAR: What are the long-term plans for the Lab?

Woodin: This will be up to the Board ultimately. We of course want to remain where we are as long as possible. Our main concern is keeping the integrity of the collection whole and having it as an international reference point for future generations.

We believe that access to this collection and the unique information it contains is extremely important, far beyond its usefulness to cartridge collectors. This is not speculation: it is based on the nature of the inquiries that we receive from around the world. For example, the Lab has been used to identify enemy ammunition sources from a number of conflicts, including the two Iraqi wars and the war in Afghanistan. It has been useful in scores of other military and police forensic investigations around the world. The Lab is a serious research facility supporting criminal or military police investigations and cartridge designers around the world.

SAR: What does the Lab currently need?

Woodin: If you ask the Foundation’s treasurer (my wife), it would always be more funds. (Laughs)

We are always on the lookout for unusual military and police cartridges. What we try to obtain is the very first and last date for each loading and headstamp, plus any key milestones along the way if some change took place. We are very interested in experimental cartridges, whether or not they succeeded, and also literature in our field such as technical reports on military or police ammunition.

One non-cartridge item we do need for our Faxitron X-ray machine, in case anyone has some to spare, is Type 52 Polaroid film that is not too long out of date. By the way, the best images are taken using the neutron beam from a nuclear reactor; it slices through lead like butter, but the individual powder grains are clearly visible. This may be a bit of a budget stretch for the Lab, but it would be nice to have access to such a facility. (Laughs).

Advice to Readers

SAR: Most SAR subscribers shoot a lot of ammunition. Any parting advice for these readers?

Woodin: Absolutely! First, know the characteristics of the ammunition that you are feeding into your guns. Corrosive ammo is one obvious issue that can be dealt with, but ammunition identification is also important, for example knowing what the colors on military ammunition mean, which can be confusing. For example, black tip means AP on U.S. ammo, tracer on German, ranging (spotting) on 7.65 Mauser. Green primer seal indicates ball on German ammo, AP on British, incendiary on Japanese .303. And so on.

Second, know not just the shooting characteristics but the value of what you are shooting. Machine gun shooters typically have large inventories of ammunition, particularly military surplus ammo. It is unlikely, but not out of the question, that some of this might be rare and collectable, worth a lot more than just shooting value. For example, I once stopped a belt of .30-06 that was about to be fed into a machine gun – I think by J Curtis Earl – that had the rare EC 42 headstamp instead of the common EW. One of the best ways to understand exactly what you have is by networking within one of the cartridge organizations. The IAA Forum is also a very useful source of information.

Third, know the laws. Large-caliber projectiles, of course, must be inert – other than those registered under the amnesty. There are various state laws, such as those in California, prohibiting the possession of certain types of ammunition without a special license. At the national level, there are nearly two dozen so-called “proscribed” countries, such as China, Cuba, North Korea, Syria, Iran, Iraq, and samples of cartridges made in these countries cannot be brought into the U.S.; not helpful to the Lab research effort, as we receive many inquiries about cartridges made in these very countries.

SAR: Bill, thanks for your advice and the opportunity to visit the Lab and interview you for this article.

Woodin: You’re very welcome – thanks to Small Arms Review for your interest in the Lab.

Contact Information

Woodin Laboratory can be contacted via e-mail at woodinlab@q.com. The International Ammunition Association (IAA) website, www.cartridgecollectors.org, also includes information about the St. Louis International Cartridge Show.

Some claim he was one of the most important figures in the Class 3 firearms world, a courageous individual who was willing to take on the ATF, a major benefactor of the NRA, the founder of a world-class arms museum and a mentor to many. Others viewed him as an abrasive, tightfisted, petty man, ready to challenge family, friends and customers alike at the slightest perceived wrongdoing. Indeed, he was all these things and much more. This article sheds light on the life of this complex individual through whose hands thousands of machine guns passed… maybe even one of yours.

Small Arms Review has published many articles about famous figures in the gun world. For these luminaries, the focus was on the chronology of their business dealings in developing the gun industry as it exists today. Each contained a brief outline of their lives with little mention of their personal affairs. They are famous and respected for what they did, invented or created.

J Curtis Earl was famous as an early and influential Class 3 dealer who amassed one of the largest private gun collections in the world. But he was legendary for his abrasive personality and sometimes questionable business practices. At the time of J Curtis Earl’s death on July 19, 2000, he had amassed a throng of embittered individuals to whom the mere mention of his name would prompt scornful, disparaging remarks.

His passing was reported in Volume 4, Number 4, January 2001 issue of Small Arms Review with a brief, factual summary of his life and a description of the infamous ATF raid and his Senate testimony. Back then, sensitivities about Curtis Earl were still raw and the timing was not appropriate to go into much more detail. Even today, a few reacted bitterly when asked to recall events about Curtis for this article. They responded, in effect, “Why should I help promote his fame?”

We are neither attempting to build his fame, nor are we doing a character assassination. Nearly a decade later, it is possible to step back and objectively describe the man, both the positives and the negatives. This three-part article lays out the facts, and the readers can make their own determination as to who J Curtis Earl was. There are thousands in the gun world who have had personal interactions or business dealings with him. Were their experiences consistent with the others who dealt with him? Were their experiences unique? This article may bring closure to these and many other questions. Plus, to those unfamiliar with the man, it will most assuredly be a fascinating journey.

This first part describes his well-known personality characteristics and the early events in his life that shaped the man. Part two, in an upcoming issue, will outline his business strategy and a detailed description of his breathtaking inventory of NFA weapons. Part three will describe his growing isolation from the gun community and his quest for a lasting legacy.

A unique aspect of each part is the inclusion of detailed information and photographs of his personal life. Yes, as in past articles, we describe his specific business dealings and the famous guns he owned, but if this were all that we portrayed, we would provide no insight into the man himself. And this narrative is as much about the man as it is in how he made millions as an early Class 3 gun dealer.

This article is the result of the integration of scores of sources; most of the information is revealed here for the first time anywhere. Surprisingly, relatively little hard documentation exists on J Curtis Earl. Rumors and stories abound, however. For example, he was believed to have equipped his AT-6 aircraft military trainer with machine guns. Not true, but this rumor provides a perspective of just how odd the stories are that evolved. Separating fact from fiction was our primary goal. Again, we want to present the available information to readers so they can make their own assessment.

Primacy was given to public records such as Senate testimony, census, birth, marriage and trust records. Family members were interviewed and a draft of this article was reviewed by his daughters, first wife and several of his grandchildren. Their recollections are considered true and accurate: they were there, as it were, at the time of certain events. First-person descriptions of events from friends are considered accurate to the extent that they describe the actual events that they observed. A few events directly observed by reliable individuals were not included since they were, frankly, too controversial and potentially upsetting to the family.

A number of direct conversations between Curtis Earl and others are repeated and these are considered accurate in so far as the story told. They represent the world as experienced and sometimes embellished by Curtis. For example, sometimes his stories varied depending on whom he was talking to. A similar problem occurred when evaluating the few newspaper and magazine articles in existence: they typically were based on what Curtis provided the writer.

Second- and third-hand descriptions (i.e., a friend told me that Curtis did such and such) are given little credence unless several individuals provided multiple examples of such events. In this jumbled universe of information, no doubt there may be inaccuracies in this article, but the overall presentation is believed accurate.

Curtis War Stories

Within the senior ranks of the NFA community, everyone has a Curtis Earl story; his reach was just that wide. To begin this article, it is instructive to tell three of my own “Curtis stories” to illustrate a representative cross section of the personality traits he exhibited throughout his career. At the time these events occurred, I was unaware of their telling implications and it was only after conversations with others that I recognized the underlying themes. In other words, while the stories are mine, the inferences are absolutely consistent with the broader context in how he interacted with others and ran his business.

In many respects, these traits were as famous as the weapons he sold, so it is appropriate to start with these first. Following these stories, we will return to the beginning and describe the events which may have influenced and shaped the man that so many thought they knew.

Curtis Stories

In 1996, I was in the market for a Reising and a friend told me that Curtis Earl probably had a wide selection in stock. Since I live near Phoenix, I gave him a call to set up an appointment to examine his inventory in person. I wanted to convey to him the message that this was a serious inquiry and already had done some research, including talking to some of the other dealers in the area. A few sentences into the conversation I mentioned a particular local Class 3 dealer, and this instantly resulted in a ten-minute tirade over why this dealer was a low life, incompetent cheat and SOB. I was totally flabbergasted by this uncalled for diatribe spewed at a potential customer. (Trait 1: He could unleash his wrath even upon total strangers if his mood or feelings about an issue prompted it.)

I later learned that the subject of his wrath was one of the early local dealers that, in Curtis’ mind, directly took business away from him. (Trait 2: He had an almost paranoid hatred of competition.) But Curtis was in a unique position, namely, an unsurpassed inventory, and I set up an appointment in spite of the baffling conversation. (Trait 3: He knew he could, and did, get away with a lot of bad behavior because of his unique collection.)

I asked a friend and local gun collector, Charles (Chuck) Olsen, to meet me at his house since he had known Curtis from a decade earlier and I assumed that this would help in the negotiations. That earlier relationship ended when Curtis told him, “Don’t bother calling me unless you are ready to do business.” Olsen took him at his word. (Trait 4: He could terminate a relationship in a second, and sometimes rather bluntly, if he perceived there was not something in it for him.)

I was twenty minutes late to the appointment, but was not overly concerned since it was at his house and knew that Olsen would be there ahead of me. After all, Chuck and I were ready to talk business. As it later turned out, this brief delay proved pivotal since it provided the opportunity for Curtis and him to reacquaint. Indeed, after this get-together they became close friends until the day he died. (Trait 5: On rare occasions, Curtis could become even contrite and apologetic and be willing to reestablish friendships.)

As I walked up to his door, Curtis came charging out, sans welcoming smile, stating that “I am going to have to charge you $50 for wasting my time, you’re late.” A rather odd way of starting a business relationship, I thought to myself. (Trait 6: Diplomatic business manners were infrequently exhibited; and Trait 7: He would often overstate the importance of his time and self-worth.)

He brought Chuck and me back to the vault and showed me the several dozen Reisings, mostly parkerized military versions, all at premium prices. I later learned that Curtis always charged top prices for his merchandise. The compensating factor, of course, was that a $1,000 Reising then is a $5,000 machine gun today. (Trait 8: He was absolutely correct in his predictions of the market and he used it to his business advantage.)

The second story occurred several years later when he was shipping the major portion of his weapon collection to the Idaho State Historical Society for the J Curtis Earl Memorial Exhibit. He had an inventory of ammunition for a 37mm Bofors and 25mm Puteaux and needed to dispose of it before shipping the cannons. He chose the best way possible: shoot it. A small group of friends were contacted to participate in the “disposal,” including Chuck Olsen who invited me along.

We arrived at his home at the appointed time and no one was around. Instead, we found what could best be described in legal jargon as the mother of all “attractive nuisances”: the two cannons on a flatbed and an unsecured truckload of ammunition and other weapons. (Trait 9: Towards the end, he had almost a cavalier attitude, not paying much attention to the potential implications and dangers of such behavior, not to mention the issue of monetary loss.)

We tracked him down at a restaurant and soon we were headed up the Black Canyon Freeway with a string of gawkers staring at the weaponry on the move. The group was comprised of experienced shooters, and there was no review of the range rules. Reactive targets were set up and the firing began. I had an M16 with optics and proceeded to pick them off on semi-auto. Curtis went ballistic and shouted, “No optics.” I removed the offending optics and started to pick them off with open sights. Curtis again went ballistic, “Full-auto only!”

I used aimed fire on the first round and proceeded again to take out targets, albeit with an accompanying burst of noise. Yet again, Curtis went ballistic. At that point, I had had enough and shouted back, “What do you want me to do? Point down range and just spray?” (Trait 10: He often had unwritten or unspoken rules, at least until you violated them and then all hell would break loose. It was thus difficult to keep in his good graces.)

When the cannons were unloaded and positioned, he gave the “honors” to one of his closest friends to fire the first round from these antiques not shot in decades. I got far away and shielded myself with Olsen’s van. What I found fascinating was that Curtis also removed himself from the proximity of the cannons and stood beside a truck. A dozen years later I had the opportunity to discuss this event with his friend that did the firing and he too had noted at the time that Curtis retreated to safety. (Trait 11: He always looked out for his own welfare. The welfare of others, including close friends, could be strangely problematic.)

The final story, and one that probably is the source of much of the consternation over Curtis’ business dealings, concerns a shoot that occurred after the sale of the machine guns from the J Curtis Earl Automatic Weapons Collection at the Champlin Fighter Museum in Mesa, Arizona. Several Class 3 dealers were present, including one that had recently acquired a Soviet PPS-43 submachine gun. Another dealer, also present, was one of the several dealers involved with these museum weapons after the collection was disbursed. It was the first time that very knowledgeable people had fired and thoroughly examined this weapon since it was sold to Champlin.

In Curtis’ catalogues he went into some depth to describe how you tell the good from the bad when it comes to remanufactured guns that are potentially “accidents waiting to happen” and the need to deal with “someone you can trust.” But upon close examination, the gun turned out to be a reweld, significantly lower in value than an uncut original. I watched the dealer’s jaw drop as he recognized that he would have to disclose this information in the next transfer and take a potential loss.

Some of this responsibility to “inspect first, buy second” fell on the shoulders of the interim dealers, but the point is that buyers found themselves in similar situations where the description given on a gun, sometimes bought sight unseen in other states, did not seem to match the item delivered. For example, on one occasion he held up a bottle of cold bluing to a friend and proudly declared, “This little bottle has made me tens of thousands of dollars.” (Trait 12: He claimed to always be fair in his business dealings, but this assertion would not always match reality.)

After reading these stories, seasoned NFA weapons collectors and dealers may be thinking, “Yup, these twelve traits pretty well summarize who Curtis was.” But he was far more complex than this. For example, Robert Segel, senior editor for this magazine experienced another dimension. As Robert explains, “I was interested in machine guns at a very early age. While attending a gun show with by father at the age of 9, I got my first machine gun – a Dewat Sten MkII for $25. I still own that gun. Of course I was too young to own a live one, but Dewats were within my realm. When I was about 13 or so, I ordered Curtis’ catalog and found an excitingly wide range of machine guns within my reach. I called and he was extremely helpful offering me whatever I wanted and if it was live, he would deactivate it for me. Even though I was a kid, still with a kid’s voice, I had done my homework, asked intelligent questions and apparently came across as a true potential, long term client. After a couple of phone calls, I raised the money to fly down to see his collection in person (wow!) and pick out an M1 Thompson in 1965. Over the next several years I bought 7 guns from him and he was always very patient with me and instructive about these guns, almost like a mentor to me. I have no ‘war stories’ about Curtis. All my dealings with him were straight forward, polite and honest.”

His granddaughter, Michelle Earl Cruson, experienced the humorous side of him. She shares some of her memories: “During one visit around Halloween, I displayed my pirate costume, complete with a plastic sword. I stashed it in the pillowcase I used to carry my goodies. As I was leaving, the bag poked me in the leg. Lo and behold, he had put a real antique sword in its place. He called it a ‘toad sticker’ and now my sword is displayed in Curt’s museum at the Idaho State Historical Society. Near the end of Curt’s life, when Hospice came, they asked him if he had any guns in the house. He cheerfully replied, ‘Yes, lots of them, everywhere!’”

So who was he – the mentor, the friend to some, the jokester, or the cantankerous, difficult business man? To gain some insight, it is necessary to start at the beginning and explore the major events that shaped the man.

Growing Up J Curtis

Curtis was born on July 15, 1924 in Tremonton, Utah to Jesse and Wanda Earl. His father, a farmer and WWI veteran, was born into a large family of farmers with four sisters and three brothers. His grandfather, Charles, was originally from Canada. By the 1930s, Curtis’ uncles, Leo, Frank and Ernest, were branching out into the grocery, sales and printing businesses, respectively.

What is intriguing is that even at the age of 5 he is listed along with his younger sister Marilyn as “J Curtis” on the 1930 census. But what did the “J” stand for? His daughter Pat explains, “He was named after his father, Jesse Wilson, but my grandparents did not want him called Jesse, Jr. so they named him ‘J Curtis’ from the very beginning and without the period. I suppose he would sometimes include the period because most people would expect it and think it was a typo if it was missing.”

He was a depression-era child which no doubt influenced his propensity for extreme frugality in later life, but unlike many of that period, his family was relatively well-to-do. At the age of seven, he became interested in collecting arrowheads on the family’s extensive property, which soon expanded to hunting and collecting other forms of weaponry, including cartridge collecting. The specifics vary as to how he got interested in guns. Max Rigby, his best friend from that period, said, “I believe his first gun was a .22. His Dad would take him out rabbit hunting with it. He also had a falcon when we were in high school that he trained to hunt. It was really interesting, I enjoyed going out with him.”

As far as his interest in machine guns, he told friends that he was given a crew served WWI weapon that was being thrown out by the local veterans group. In a 1981 newspaper article, he was quoted as saying that one of his father’s friends was going to throw out a pile of WWI souvenirs and rather than seeing them lost, “I laboriously hauled it home, using my bicycle as a cart and making several trips through the pre-pavement period mud lying between Tremonton and Garland some three miles away.” A 1983 prospectus for his business states, “His first two guns were acquired at the tender age of nine, he still has those two guns, both Maxim 08/15 machine guns.”

He attended grammar school in Fielding, Utah and at a young age suffered a major, life-changing event that would haunt him all his life. He would tell friends that when he was ten he was helping his father tar the roof and afterwards, while cleaning the tar off his hands and arms with gasoline, the volatile residual ignited when he got near the fire used to heat the tar.

What actually happened according to his daughter Pat was, “At the age of seven, while playing ‘Cowboys & Indians’ behind their Fielding farm home, Dad wanted their smoldering campfire to be bigger. He was drenched in gasoline while filling a small can from the old pump by the garage. As he poured the can of gas onto the embers, it flared and caught him on fire. Grandma Earl said she heard screams and saw him, totally engulfed, running around the back yard. She grabbed a blanket and ran to him. He was burned over most of his body, but it was the severe, third-degree burns over twenty percent of his body that took a very long time to heal. Most people in the area who knew of the event said that it was only by the power of Grandma’s prayers that he survived.”

Much later he told friends that the medical bills nearly bankrupted the family and his father resented him because of this. While plausible, this story is not true. Not only was the family quite wealthy, but Max Rigby recalls that he was treated at the LDS Hospital in Salt Lake City and the church picked up the balance of the bills, as was common in those days since the family was a “member in good standing.” Curtis seemed to have a knack for eliciting sympathy rather than rigidly adhering to the facts. In this case, it was the hard-working son versus the boy playing with gasoline.

He was in enormous pain and the family was so distraught that they did everything to help Curtis. For example, he asked for a pet monkey and got it. He also took up an interest in plinking while convalescing after the accident. Plinking sparked more than just an interest in weaponry; it led to a lifelong interest in hunting and the great outdoors. In addition, he became interested in the Boy Scouts, worked his way up to Eagle Scout and treasured his badge all his life.

One thing he was definitely not interested in was farming, and friction began to develop between him and his father. His father was a hard-working stickler, and he expected no less from his son. He would later relate stories to close friends about how his father would even resort to corporal punishment if he did not meet his expectations. He told another friend, Mike Todd, that his father did not want him to have the machine guns that were being discarded by the WWI veterans and made him haul them back on his bicycle. He took them back, crying all the way, and hid them.

One thing that was certain, even among friends and relatives, he did not talk a lot about his relationship with his father. Dotti Cottle, his first wife, describes how he got along with his parents, “His mom doted on him. His relationship with his dad was work and money-oriented.”

The Early Days

He attended Bear River High School in Tremonton and as Max Rigby explained, “He was a charmer. He had a knack for getting all the girls at the high school dances. We went on dates together and had lots of fun times.” This interest in beautiful women continued all his life, to both his detriment and benefit. After attending high school, he went on to The University of Utah for a year and later to Utah Agricultural College, now Utah State University, for five. In 1949, he graduated from the School of Forestry with a B.S. degree in Wildlife Biology with minors in Civil Engineering and Photography.

It was during the 1940s that he developed a love for flying and received his private pilot’s license in 1943. He told friends that he tried to enlist in the military during WWII, as his father had in WWI, but was rejected because of the damage done by the burns. One spot on his thigh never closed properly and was a constant source of concern for infection. As late as 1990, he was trying new procedures for skin grafts at the University of Utah Burn Unit to close the wound.

He was able to volunteer, however, to fly observation missions for the Civil Air Patrol near the end of the war. This proved to be the perfect combination since he could satisfy his love for flying and also have access to free rationed aviation fuel. All his life he sought such winning combinations. But nonetheless, to family and friends he repeatedly stated that it was hard to see all his friends serve, some coming home heroes, but not him.

During college he married his first wife, Dotti, in 1946. “After his parents sold the farm in Fielding, his father bought into the Fish Haven Resort. Curt worked at the resort during the summers of his college years, renting the boats, working in the restaurant and maintaining the guest cabins. That’s where we got to know each other since my parents ran the main store and post office in Fish Haven, Idaho.”

In addition to the resort, Curtis’ father, Jesse, ran a business in Logan, Utah that sold some of the first automatic washing machines. Dotti worked with him instructing the ladies on the use of their new Bendix Washer. Jesse’s 100-year-old home in a prestigious part of Logan had the first automatic garage door opener in town, another business line that the industrious Jesse expanded into.

All the while, Curtis continued to expand and upgrade his weapon collection, particularly from veterans returning from the war. No doubt, the family indirectly helped in this regard from a financial standpoint. Dotti explains, “Grandpa Earl (Jesse) gave us a home on Center Street as a wedding gift. It was big and had four apartments in it, which brought us a little income. In 1948 our son, Michael Curtis, was born while Curt was out rabbit hunting.”

The family moved to Owensville, Missouri after he was hired by the Missouri Conservation Commission in 1949 to support the development of the August A. Busch Memorial Wildlife Area. He often told friends that this wildlife management area was his proudest accomplishment and must have influenced his later building of the Idaho Aviation Foundation.

Just after his first daughter Pat was born in 1951, the family moved to Phoenix where he secured a job as a wildlife biologist working on five federal projects as a project leader for the Arizona Game and Fish Commission. While he loved working on wildlife conservation projects, his deep-seated interest was in flying. Even his sister Marilyn caught the flying bug and worked as a United stewardess in the early 1950s. He similarly infected two of his children and two of his grandchildren (Michelle and Terrance).

His childhood friend Gail Halvorsen may have contributed to this love for flying for both him and his sister. Marilyn remembers fun times with Gail and the Halvorsen family. Gail became a command pilot during WWII in the United States Air Force. He became famous during the Berlin airlift as the original “Candy Bomber” who threw candy to the blockaded children as the C-47s and C-54s approached the airport. After the end of the blockade, Colonel Halvorsen did a “victory tour” around the state of Utah and Curtis flew in an accompanying plane taking photographs, some of which appeared in the book Halvorsen wrote about his life, The Berlin Candy Bomber.

It also may have been this love for flying that led to a major change in careers. In 1952, he went to work in the quality control and inspection planning department for Garrett AiResearch, a manufacturer of small gas turbine engines. The family lived on Diamond Street not far from Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. Pat states, “In that house we had gun cases everywhere and we often drove to the airport to watch the airplanes take off and land. Dad loved animals; we had a dog (Butch), a cat and a pet desert tortoise so large that we tried to ride it. We were taught to respect weapons and thought everyone had guns and did such things.”

The Turbulent 50s and 60s

But those relatively carefree days would soon be over. The marriage began to unravel, but not before Dotti was once again pregnant. His frequent scuba and fishing trips to Mexico, the land of the lovely señoritas, no doubt contributed. A frequent traveling companion on these trips was a secretary at Garrett. He was not happy about his wife’s frequent trips taking the kids back home to Utah. It was an extremely stressful period and Christine arrived two months premature in 1955, the day after the divorce became final. Christine was so small at birth that the nickname “Tina” remains to this day.

Curtis claimed to friends that his father disowned him after the divorce. As stated earlier, his relationship with his father was tense at best much of the time. But in reality, his father helped him buy the Diamond Street house and set him up with the income from several businesses including a furniture manufacturing plant and several warehouses. Finally, when his father died in 1974 he received a sizable inheritance. There is a certain bitter irony in this, considering how he structured his own trust at the end of his life.

Dotti took the three children and moved back to Utah, living in the Earl’s big family home for the first few months while they wintered in a warmer climate. She found work as a secretary and returned her lifestyle to her calmer Mormon roots. Curtis remarried around 1959 to Beulah Holmes of Phoenix. Beulah had children of her own, slightly older than those of Curtis, and his own children got along well with her. But once again things started to unravel, this time on both the work and the marriage fronts.

Curtis was terminated from his job at Garrett in 1960, not for poor performance, but for what can best be described as a conflict with a certain female employee. Resolution of the matter involved company security coming to Curt’s house and leaving with hundreds of “artsy” photos of the young woman, although they didn’t get them all.

Curtis went through a string of jobs, most lasting brief periods, some part-time and overlapping. He went to work for Hollar Tool Engineering, Skyway Manufacturing, and DeVelco Manufacturing, all in quality control. He then changed careers again and went to work for Del Webb, an Arizona real estate, development and construction operation in Phoenix as a project estimator, then back to quality control for Apex Manufacturing while also working at Arizona Land Corporation. For a while he was selling real estate in Holbrook, Arizona. All this occurred from 1960 though 1968.

As for his marriage, this one was much more tumultuous than the first. So bitter and acrimonious had the relationship grown that Curtis was in fear of his life. Chuck Olsen explains, “Curtis told me that he knew his wife had a .380 automatic and knew how to shoot it. The marriage deteriorated to the point where he thought that she possibly might use it – on him – so he removed the firing pin. One morning not long afterwards when shaving, he heard a snap behind him and the clink of a round hitting the floor as another round was chambered.” This story has been confirmed by his granddaughter, Michelle Earl Cruson, and others.

Needless to say, he was soon divorced. He remarried a third time to Mary Bess, but that only lasted a few years. His fourth and final marriage was to Lois Haselton in 1968, but it lasted literally a few days. The most consistent thread in this turbulent period was his uninterrupted dedication to gun collecting and flying. Sometimes he could creatively combine the two. At Arizona air shows, he set up a display of aircraft machine guns and explained the connection between guns and airplanes. From his (accurate) perspective, aviation advanced exponentially when airplanes became the delivery platform for weapons and the forward eyes of our troops. The guns, he would say, “were the fangs and claws of the war birds.” Kids of all ages were drawn to his booth.

He loved this attention and wanted to extend the concept to a permanent display. That may have been one of the reasons that years later he insisted that the Champlin Fighter Museum’s display of weapons bear his name, even though all the guns were owned by Doug Champlin. It also may have given him the inspiration for the J Curtis Earl Memorial Exhibit at the Old Idaho Penitentiary.

Another point of stability in this turbulent time was the frequent visits to his children in Logan, Utah. Friends got the impression that he was estranged from his children all their lives, when in reality he flew up several times each year and showered them with interesting gifts such as a live tarantula and baby alligator. His three children always looked forward to these visits.

The 1960s were turbulent times of job changes and dissolved marriages. His third marriage only lasted a few years. His fourth and final marriage lasted literally a few days. The most consistent thread in this tumultuous period was his uninterrupted dedication to gun collecting, flying and his visits to his children in Logan, Utah.

The end, in 1968, to the “marriage that did not count since it was so short,” as he would joke, also brought an end to the overlapping part-time jobs: in 1968 he was in the gun business full-time. The precise reasons that he became a full-time Class 3 dealer are not known. It was probably a blend of numerous factors. No doubt, being under the direction and control of corporations did not suit his style; déjà vu working for his father on the farm.

Another likely factor was the fact that from childhood he had developed the skills of an astute dealer and trader. He would shrewdly buy two guns, keep one and sell one then buy two more with the profits, repeating the process over and over for decades. A 1981 newspaper article stated that he “started out in the military arms business while still a kid. He supported his wildlife-management education at USU variously from farm work, gunsmithing, hawking war surplus sporting goods, and even aerial shooting (for bounty and furs) from an old Cessna 140 airplane.”

Yet another factor may have been a twist of fate. He told friends that a wealthy individual in the air cargo freight business was interested in collecting and investing in machine guns but could not legally own them. He helped Curtis apply for his Class 3 FFL in 1964. (Author’s note: 1965 is often cited as the start of his business; 1964 is the date given in the 1983 business prospectus and may represent the date he submitted the paperwork.) Curtis would later claim that there were only two other such dealers in the country, one in Wisconsin and one in Illinois.

The wealthy businessman would provide the money but Curtis would own and store the guns; the businessman could shoot them when he was with Curtis in Phoenix. Recognize that this was long before the straw buyer concept was even imagined, and, of course, Curtis kept possession of the guns. He was given the opportunity to fly around the country and began making key contacts in police departments that later proved invaluable. It was another one of those win-win situations that Curtis loved.

Curtis claimed that the businessman caught his wife cheating and this led to a tragic murder-suicide. All the guns, papered to Curtis, became his. This story is “real” as told firsthand to others, but again, the truth may lie elsewhere. He also told friends that he had received a large settlement from the judgment on a car accident, severe enough to require a fusion of vertebrae in his neck. Monthly income from the storage units given him by his father paid the day-to-day expenses. Additional money may also have come from the continued support from his father back in Utah. It is unlikely that he would ever admit this.

One thing was certain: he was reaching critical mass whereby the revenue from the part-time gun business was exceeding the income from his more traditional corporate jobs. In addition, he was living frugally and plowing the profits from gun sales into the purchase of more guns.

Regardless of what propelled him to graduate from collector to dealer, the net result was that on December 29, 1965, Curtis formally opened for business as a part-time Class 3 dealer until he went full-time in 1968. His first entry in his “bound book” was a Sten gun. (As an aside, throughout his life he used standard Ideal System Company eight-column ledger pages bound side-by-side and set up according to ATF record-keeping requirements.) The last entry was an MG-42 on July 14, 1999. The ledger tracked as follows:

• 1960s: 528
• 1970s: 1,556
• 1980s: 454
• 1990s: 27
• Total: 2,565

With a Title II inventory such as this and since he included his address in his ads, security was a constant issue. He built a separate structure on the property with overall dimensions of 12 by 27 feet, which included a vault with a time lock door imported from Spain and originally installed in the First National Bank in Florence, Arizona. Both his house and the external storage areas had what he described in the prospectus as “sophisticated security systems.” In reality, it was rudimentary according to close friends.

He always had a watchdog, usually a German shepherd, plus an assortment of hidden, loaded guns around the house and in his car. He built a special bracket to hold a 12-gauge shotgun under a coffee table, kept a .38 under a hat on top of the refrigerator and used as his primary defense weapon a WWII vintage .45 marked United States Property, SN 965435. He had it at the ready in a cut-off leather military shoulder holster stapled to the headboard of his bed. This gun would later be confiscated by the police in one of the darkest periods of his life just before he died. The Business Strategy

Clearly, the 1970s were the peak of his business, but it would be the very early days that proved critical since they laid the foundation of his business development strategy. As the 1983 business prospective detailed, “This business was built up over the years by primarily buying everything in the Title II gun line that he could afford. As the annual increase in the value of all of these items is far in excess of any other commodity, he continually poured his profits into more inventory and antique guns, he exercised the ‘new pots for old’ approach and acquired many collections and large lots from states, governments, and law enforcement agencies. He specializes in good, clean guns… he has become the largest dealer in the U.S. with an inventory most probably in excess of all of his competitors put together!”

By the 1970s he not only was the largest Class 3 dealer, he was also one of the most influential. As mentioned in part one of this series, his father and three of his uncles were in the retail and sales business; maybe he picked up some of the skills from them and understood the power of advertising. He was one of the first to run national ads in widely read magazines such as Gun World, Guns and Guns & Ammo.

The ads may have been small, but they caught the eye of thousands who bought his catalog that was nothing short of breathtaking for NFA collectors with its dozens of illustrations. Between 1968 and 1983 he had distributed over 65,000 brochures. By 1983 he was receiving nearly $15,000 annually from catalog sales alone (nearly $34,000 in 2009 dollars). Curtis also was quick to adapt new photo technology, owning several Polaroid cameras and getting into home video back when cameras required a suitcase-size recorder. For those interested in getting a closer look at a particular gun, he offered to take and send a custom photo, “$1 submachine gun photo, $2 light, and $3 crew served or heavy guns.” He even made and sold tapes of guns to potential buyers with a narration of the gun’s statistics and qualities.

Curtis did three things in his catalog that greatly benefitted the collecting public. First, he educated them that they could own machine guns and explained the process to legally acquire them. For example, wording from the 1976 catalog states, “Machine guns are legal. They always have been! However, old wives’ tales to the contrary are bolstered by our American new media (sic), the reverse of this has been very effectively drilled into the public’s brains.”

Second, he pointed out the rarity of the classic original guns and the impact on supply and demand: “It is now simply a matter of supply and demand… with the demand far greater than the supply!” and its impact on price: “Any machine gun worth having will demand premiums unheard of today; they will fall in the same category as the Colt Patersons or Walkers, or any of the other highly sought and very costly collectables.” He was correct, of course, but in those early days he never anticipated the astronomical rise after the 1986 ban on the manufacture of transferable machine guns.

Part of his logic on the inevitability of price escalation was based on the impact of the transfer tax. “On each transaction of a live gun, the value of that gun is increased by $200.00.” As he detailed, the owner of the gun in each succeeding transfer would want to recoup his original cost, plus expenses, plus a profit. As he explained, after several transactions, “The $59.50 Thompson (Author’s note: Interarmco was selling these at this price in 1967) is now listing at $500.00. The new buyer pays the $200.00 federal tax, making his total cost for the gun $700.00… and ad infinitum.”

Third, he provided a summary of the classes of machine guns, key dos and don’ts, the possible problems with remanufactured guns or “re-wats,” the regulations and the legal traps, sometimes in brutally frank terms. For example in his 1988 catalog, after the dust had settled on the historic ATF raid, “(Un-registered) guns brought home by an earlier collector as a war memento, or something from prohibition days… will show up… now and then… but contraband they are, and contraband they will most likely always be… good for spare parts only. The BATF Gestapo loves to find the ‘innocent’ owner of such items… You may as well get caught with a kilo of ‘H’.”

Curtis had eight business advantages that, in sum, no one else had. First, he had a lifetime of collecting, bargaining knowledge and contacts. He knew guns and where you could get them. Second, he had a tremendous inventory from day one of the business. Third, the market timing was in his favor. He went into business during the golden period, long before the astronomical rise in machine gun prices and the field was packed with competition. Fourth, he had the capital to buy large lots of weapons from collectors, police departments, movie studios and prisons. Fifth, he had a knack for self-promotion and advertising. Sixth, he had something that few had – an airplane and a pilot’s license which allowed him to traverse the country looking for deals. Seventh, he could work out of his home, thus eliminating the cost for a storefront. Zoning was not an issue. Eighth, he had fortuitous luck as explained next.

The Thoresen Gun Runs

Mentioned earlier was his chance encounter with a wealthy air cargo freight business owner that may have helped jump start his dealer career. Again, this may or may not have occurred, at least to the extent Curtis would tell the story to several friends. But there was no question about another chance occurrence, one that eventually was described in the 1974 book, It Gave Everybody Something To Do, by Louise Thoresen.

Born Louise Banich into a blue-collar family of meager means, at the age of twenty-one she met and married William Thoresen, a Chicago trust fund millionaire. He may have had wealth, but he was also an unstable manipulator and petty criminal who had visions of grandeur, including dreams of establishing a military arms museum in San Francisco.

Louise wrote, “So once again I was caught up in his schemes and agreed to embark with him on this new adventure – into the upper echelons and lower depths of the gun dealing world.” Curtis’ ads had caught his eye and he made arrangements to meet him at his home in “Santa Fe, New Mexico.” In the book the characters’ actual identities and locations were not revealed. Curtis was “Orval Lee.”

Jumping directly to the end from Curtis’ standpoint, this wealthy individual paid for Curtis to fly around the country, build key contacts and support William Thoresen’s efforts in assembling an arsenal reported by federal agents to weigh as much as 70 tons. Fast-forwarding to the end of this story from Louise’s standpoint, the marriage disintegrated, he abused her and in a famous California trial, she was acquitted of the murder of William by reason of self-defense.

A careful read of the book reveals more than just Curtis’ fortuitous encounter with Thoresen to expand his network on someone else’s dime – another one of the win-win deals he loved. It also revealed the near paranoia and suspicions that influenced a few of the buyers and sellers from that period. On page 192 Louise wrote, “Within two hours, two FBI agents came to our motel and arrested William on the fugitive warrant from Tucson.” (Author’s note: ATTU was the Alcohol, Tobacco Tax Unit of IRS, as it was called back then before independence from the IRS in 1970 or so) “We later learned that Orval Lee had begun making immediate inquiries about William and the ATTU and the FBI… He knew from the FBI that William had been arrested, but he was still chary that it was all part of an entrapment plot to nail him.” (“Him” is emphasized in the original.)

On page 202 Louise continues, “‘I do not want to go there,’ Orval said. ‘You take care of it. You take me to Newark Airport now’… No amount of persuasion would change his mind. We did not understand what all the panic was about, but we drove him to Newark Airport anyway… It should have occurred to us that Orval Lee’s sudden departure from the gun run was much more than an omen, but neither of us was very good at looking into the future.”

Hours later Louise Thoresen was arrested for “storing explosives at an airport and attempted interstate shipment of explosives and contraband firearms.” Years later Curtis would tell friends that he thought the Thoresens were trying to set him up in an ATF sting operation.

Double Dealing and Contraband

On page 194 Louise implies that Curtis was ready to facilitate contraband deals, “Look, let me tell you something, Lee said expansively. ‘The ATTU told me not to do business with you at all. But I think you’re a nice guy… your wife is nice… He looked at me with much more than casual interest. ‘I’ll work with you on it… I’ll take a deposit on the papered weapons you want, crate them and store them in a bonded warehouse till we can transfer them to your name. And in the meantime,’ he grinned expectantly, ‘maybe I know about a few things you can buy right now from friends of mine. Unpapered. Machine guns you wanted, wasn’t it?’”

Thoresen’s comment about the lustful look-over was absolute pure Curtis. No doubt that happened. But I have been unable to uncover so much as a shred of information that he ever knowingly dealt in contraband. From the 1930s to the 1960s, the world of machine guns was different than it is today and as documented in earlier interviews in Small Arms Review of leading historic figures in the industry. The draconian controls today did not exist in days past.

Maybe there were some less than perfect deals, but it is highly unlikely that Curtis, a financially well-off dealer, would have put his collection, which was his pride and joy, and his growing business, which was a major source of income, in jeopardy, all to earn a few extra bucks. He was definitely always looking to abscond with a few extra dollars or score some trinket he had his eye on, but felonious activities were unlikely.

He did run into an issue in 1976 that eventually resulted in the confiscation of 13 machine guns and one silencer. In his bound book he listed their removal as “ATF Commandeered.” He bought from the Kearny, Arizona police department one Ruger AC-556 machine gun, three M60 machine guns and one M-11 submachine gun. The ATF alleged that the transfer was arranged to take advantage of the police and military discount on the price of these new guns – in effect, a straw purchase through Donald Lane, the Police Chief. In addition, some manufacturers would only sell directly to the military and law enforcement. ATF allegedly used this as justification for the subsequent search warrant and raid in June 1977. Curtis claimed that all these transfers were done with full approval of the ATF.

Curtis was extremely cautious, to the point of paranoia. For example, he frequently would tape record telephone conversations and some of these tapes still exist. Even the ATF was aware that he would record conversations. These recordings stand as vivid testimony to Curtis’ skill as a crafty tactician and brutal negotiator. Several involved talks with Louise Thoresen after she was acquitted of murder and re-acquired all the properly papered guns that were part of the estate. She told Curtis that she was offered $5,000 by the ATF to set up dealers.

In her book, Thoresen also raised the possibility of Curtis being an agent for the government, essentially a snitch. On this, the record is clear. He was. Curtis helped from time to time when he wanted to court favors or defensively position himself.

His July 1979 Senate testimony was explicit, even mentioning some of the Thoresen dealings and tape recordings:

Senator DeConcini: In what manner did you cooperate with the agencies?

Mr. Earl: Primarily acting as an informant to the FBI and ATF people in turning in people who I know were bad guys.

Senator DeConcini: You had acted as an informant for ATF?

Mr. Earl: Many, many, many times.

Senator DeConcini: At their request?

Mr. Earl: No sir; because I felt it was the duty as a citizen to do so.

His daughter Pat was aware of her father’s cooperation with ATF, “In 1983 I was working for TransWest Air Service in Salt Lake City at the front counter renting airplanes. Two ATF agents flew in and waited at one of the nearby tables until they got their orders to pursue a suspect. They flew off and returned in less than an hour. In the meantime, the office had called and asked for them and inadvertently mentioned that they were from ATF. I assumed that they lost their suspect and mentioned something to effect, ‘Looks like somebody got away from the ATF.’

“One of the agents was surprised and asked, ‘How do you even know what ATF is?’ In typical Earl fashion, I told him bluntly, ‘You guys have been pretty nasty to my father, J Curtis Earl.’ One agent immediately said, ‘One of my first ATF assignments was to check his books for several illegal weapons we were trying to locate. I spent all day and found nothing. When I was leaving, your father asked what prompted the inspection and I told him exactly what we were looking for. He responded, ‘I do not deal in illegal guns. You should have asked me in the first place.’ Then he proceeded to tell me exactly the information I needed and the whereabouts of the guns. I have a lot of respect for that man.’”

Getting back to the original point, namely, Thoresen’s version of what went on. Just how truthful was she in all this? Autobiographies are inevitably spun to favor the author. She killed her husband and she was, to some extent, rationalizing her actions. In the book she made numerous references to deals in transferable, properly papered guns across the country in which Curtis allegedly was involved. Cross-referencing his bound book from that period reveals no connection to these possible deals. The book may be accurate in broad terms, but in terms of any specific illegal operations which may have involved Curtis, the evidence is weak.

A Collection of Dreams

By 1983 Curtis had amassed an inventory of approximately 800 NFA firearms. There were complete “sub-collections” of machine guns which he divided into the categories of (1) assault rifles; (2) light and heavy machine guns; (3) submachine guns; and (4) silencers and silent weapons. These were further broken down by country of origin. He had complete or nearly complete collections of English, Japanese, French, German and American guns plus others, from the first machine gun invented up to, at the time, the latest U.S. M60. He also had a nearly complete collection of aircraft machine guns. There were military, commercial and even prototypes. He also became the primary distributor of the E. H. de la Garrigue half-scale miniature Thompsons.

The center of the collection and what he was most noted for, aside from some specific guns mentioned later, was what he claimed to be the only complete Thompson submachine gun collection in the world. So extensive was his collection that Gordon Herigstad, author of Colt Thompson Serial Numbers, sought out and was given access to his bound book records in 1995. Later, after Curtis died, he produced a separate listing for all Thompsons Curtis had from 1965 through 2000. On Curtis’ bound book at one time or another were the following:

• 199 Colt Model 1921, 1927 and 1928 Navy
• 109 Savage Model 1928-A1 and 1940-41 Auto-Ordnance
• 81 Savage Model M1 & M1A1 and 1942 Auto-Ordnance
• 67 1952 Numrich Arms Corporation Thompson Model 1921 & 28
• 35 West Hurley Model 1928 & 27-A1 Semi-Auto

He had five consecutively serial numbered sets (i.e., 10 Thompsons total). Some were movie guns from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) Studios or television guns such as those used in the TV series, The Untouchables. Many were from police departments around the country or from notorious prisons such as Attica, Sing Sing, Folsom and San Quentin. One incredibly engraved and ornate 1921 Thompson was dubbed the “Midas Touch” and it made the cover of the July 1973 issue of Guns & Ammo. This was another form of advertising that attracted new, high-end customers.

His inventory also included approximately 200 Title 1 firearms, some standard, but mostly rare collectable rifles, pistols and shotguns, especially Lugers, Mausers and Winchesters. There were also seven cannons ranging from 20 to 75mm. He had tons of ammunition and accessories; some rare accessories were more valuable than the guns that they were designed for. A lot of the inventory was impressive just because of the sheer volume of particular models. Aside from the Thompsons, he had 66 MAC M-10s and M-11s and 44 Reisings. He also had a mind-boggling collection of German MG 34s and 42s – 33 in all.

The 1983 business prospective totaled the value as follows:

Firearms (Title I and II)

• $1,450,000
• Destructive Devices
  60,000
• Accessories and spare parts
  150,000
• Ammunition
  15,000
• Total
  (1983 dollars)
  $1,675,000
• Total
  (2009 inflation adjusted dollars)
  $3,600,000

Of course, gun values did not track inflation, a fact pointed out by Curtis himself. If one were to make a guess of the average value of the guns at $10,000 each, one can see that this inventory, if it existed today, could approach $10 million. This is all just idle speculation since some of these guns would sell today for somewhere between a few hundred dollars to a hundred thousand dollars or more each. Examples of a few of the more exotic guns in this later category included the following:

• Charles Nungesser, WWI French flying ace’s Lewis aircraft machine gun responsible for 38 German kills
• Pancho Villa’s Lewis machine guns confiscated by Arizona authorities in their original shipping containers
• Thompson experimental 9mm model serial number S1
• Thompson Model M1A1 presentation commemorative made for President Eisenhower
• FN-FAL select fire Serial number 1
• Gewehr 43, semiautomatic Mauser code ac44, presented by the Walther people to Alfred Jodl, WWII German military commander

The MGM Automatic Arms Collection that he acquired at public auction in 1970 was so extensive that he prepared a special catalog detailing the items. They represented all of the machine guns used by MGM in their movie and television productions over a 40-year period. This included World War I and II movies, Pancho Villa and the Spanish American War movies and “general shootouts of all descriptions, including the Tarzan flicks where three of the Vickers were used.”

Television series included Combat and Rat Patrol. These were guns used by Wallace Berry, Clark Gable, Humphrey Bogart, Edward G. Robinson, John Wayne, James Cagney and others. Twenty guns were transferable and those that were not, such as several of the .50 caliber Brownings, were parted out and the receivers destroyed by the ATF. This MGM lot also included spare parts and accessories, some in mint condition.

According to a letter dated January 8, 1992, 188 guns in his collection were sold to Windward Aviation, Inc. (Champlin Fighter Museum). Indeed, there were so many transferred in that one sale that he prepared a special rubber stamp to make each entry in the ledger. Even after this single lot sale in 1987 and other individual sales, he still had approximately 520 Title II weapons in 1992 because of new additions. These figures did not include his personal guns and all of the specialty items such as ancient weapons and armaments. Many of these went to the J Curtis Earl Memorial Exhibit in Boise, Idaho.

Business with the Rich and Famous

Needless to say, Curtis and his collection were attracting international attention, including interest from very wealthy and connected individuals. From time to time Curtis would relate stories to friends who took these in, but sometimes wondered if he exaggerated. After his death, however, a number of photographs and other records verified these stories.

Some of these prominent connections were not related exclusively to guns. For example, he claimed that he would scuba dive with Jacques Cousteau in Mexico. He also was a friend of Frank Tallman, a stunt pilot, who worked in Hollywood in the 1960s and 1970s. Tallman was the president of Tallmantz Aviation which supplied a fleet of operating B-25 Mitchell bombers to recreate a Mediterranean wartime base as depicted in the 1970 movie Catch-22. The flying was done in Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico and Curtis dressed in a uniform and sat in the co-pilot’s seat. The production required three months to shoot and the bombers flew a total of about 1,500 hours. Curtis was in heaven: he could not be in WWII for real like his friend, Halvorsen, but he got to play a bomber hero in the movies.

He had pictures of himself with actors such as Mr. T (born Laurence Tureaud) who starred in the television series The A-Team and autographed photos from celebrities such as Grits Gresham, host of ABC’s The American Sportsman series from 1966-1979. There were copies of records of export licenses for guns sold to Middle Eastern sheiks. Curtis would marvel to others at how these otherwise complicated export deals would proceed through the bureaucracy at lightning speed for the diplomats. One friend relates the story of arriving at his house to find a shiny new Ferrari in the driveway, “Curtis and the owner had been fighting over the price of a case of ammo – like their very existence depended on the last few dollars of price difference. The case of ammo wouldn’t fit in the trunk, so it rode in the passenger seat.”

He entertained his friends with these stories, but the events were also a harbinger of something else… a growing interest by federal agencies.

The Feds Arrive in Force

During the 1970s there was a series of compliance inspections by the ATF at Curtis’ residence in central Phoenix where he also conducted business and stored his collection. For the most part these were routine, but by the mid 1970s the tenor with the government agencies began to change, even though he had been cooperative with the ATF. In a number of instances his actions were, in fact, to inform on their own agents who were conducting sting operations of questionable legality.

He was “influencing people” but not “winning friends” within government bureaucracies and, eventually, this and other factors such as the Kearny, Arizona, gun deal led to the infamous 1977 raid. The details of that raid plus an entrapment scheme using a woman he briefly dated were covered in Volume 4, Number 4, January 2001 issue of Small Arms Review. There are, however, several additional points of note.

Curtis was extremely cautious, having almost a second sense when trouble was brewing. For example, Curtis told friends years later that he sensed something was odd the day before the 1977 raid. A telephone lineman showed up and spent a lot of time working on the telephone pole behind his house. The ATF was setting up a direct communication line to Washington.

In the Senate testimony he stated that as the raid unfolded, “A guy went running across the lawn, stretching the longest telephone extension you ever saw – something like a 250 yard telephone line.” The ATF knew he potentially had recording devices on his business line and they apparently wanted to immediately plug into a dedicated, secure line. This was in the days before cell phones.

In December 1978 the government presented evidence to a grand jury on the Kearny, Arizona, gun deal – the issue that triggered the 1977 raid. The grand jury returned a “no bill” against Curtis, but indicted Donald Lane, chief of the Kearny, Arizona, police department on two counts. However, in early February 1979, the chief was acquitted on both charges. In November of that year Curtis initiated a lawsuit against several agencies for $8.4 million for “malicious prosecution.” He would later claim to friends that he had to drop the lawsuit because, “If I don’t, the Feds will not renew my dealer’s license.”

The legal difficulties were costing tens of thousands of dollars and were wreaking havoc on his business. In July 1979 in Senate testimony he stated, “For the last two years I have been working under a suspended license. I no longer have a legitimate license to send to my dealers and customers. I have a two-bit letter that tells me I can work as an authorization on this letter in lieu of my license, which, in effect, tells everybody I do business with I am in a bad light with ATF, and most people don’t know what a letter is. They are not used to seeing it. They don’t know if I am in business or not, and it is greatly damaging my business reputation – what is left.”

The description of the raid and Curtis’ testimony is mandatory reading for all NFA collectors (transcript available online, Google: Curtis Earl CIS 1980 S181-2). Indeed, a 2003 Neal Knox report in Shotgun News, highlighted Curtis’ testimony and the fact that it was one of the first real exposures of the problems with the NFA record-keeping problems that remain unresolved to today.

The Tensions Build

Curtis may have prevailed in this costly David vs. Goliath battle in the 1970s, but the stress was having an impact on his health and his interactions with others. Some of these stressful situations were through no fault of his own.

For example, Curtis stated in the 1979 Senate hearings, “A friend, FBI agent Kelley Sanderson, was ordered officially to not contact me, not have anything to do with me, and this was a direct result of an ATF visit to him. It is a sore deal… I took a picture of Kelley and his little boy, father and son, the kid holding the miniature (Thompson) and Kelley holding the big one. They demanded a statement why would he allow himself to be photographed, used in my book and advertising my brochure, which I have been putting out since 1966… Today, he calls me maybe once every six months to see if I am alive. He is scared to death he will be transferred to Timbuktu.”

In addition, a life-changing tragic event intervened once again. His daughter Pat relates, “Dad was thrown into a tailspin when Mike, his son, died in an airplane accident at the age of 23, the day after he graduated from USU. Between December 1966 and March 1972, Mike logged 1,741 hours of flying; that’s a lot. Having been in the ROTC at USU, he was scheduled to go into the Air Force upon graduation. He was Dad’s pride and joy, his life, his legacy.”

Curtis continued to make trips to Utah to not just see his two remaining children, but also the growing number of grandchildren. In some respects, he was like the proverbial Dutch uncle who could shower interesting gifts, play with the grandkids and then, literally, fly away. Pat recalls, “The grandkids enjoyed visits with him. Not every kid on the block could say they got to shoot a Thompson machine gun with their grandpa, or learn about falcons, or how to swing a two-handed sword. Adventures with Grandpa Curt were rich.”

But life with relatives did not come without a price, at least for them: gifts and love always seemed to come with his unwritten and, at least initially, unspoken rules and conditions. It was quite simple, there was the “wrong way” and then there was “his way.” And it was always his way or the highway.

Blood relatives always cut a lot of slack for kindred. But with customers and especially dealers in the NFA business, these affronts did not go down well at all. Even U.S. senators did not escape his sting, as illustrated in the 1979 testimony transcript, “Before I start, I would like to give you (Senator DeConcini) a belated thanks for sending your assistant to my license revocation hearing, and for the five seconds he spent there during our six-and-a-half-hour session.”

He was relentless right up until the time of his death. What’s more, he knew it. In his 1973 résumé he stated that he was “a bit opinionated in what I believe.” In addition to being a rather odd comment in a résumé, it was the understatement of the century. He proudly posted a framed inscription on the wall of his home that stated, “No man should go through life without a little trouble.”

While his interactions with others were the stuff of legends, they were rarely put in writing. One of these documented examples was in correspondence between Curtis and a rich, Scottsdale-based business executive who had bought nearly $150,000 in weapons from Curtis over a relatively short period. The businessman wrote, “I have become frustrated and have decided to terminate the relationship.” Curtis shot back with the opener, “To the smart X-suit peddler from the dumb X-farmer.”

Roger Cox, author of the 1982 book, The Thompson Submachine Gun, wrote on page 12, “This dealer… had a machine shop produce some thin, boxy looking imitations (of compensators). When this dealer published his catalog, he referred to these poor copies as ‘First Model’ compensators… Since this unscrupulous dealer was the first person to give any kind of designation to different types of compensators, his scheme was adopted by nearly everyone. It is foolish to perpetuate this fraud.” This allegedly was Curtis.

The Cycle of Friendship and Animosity

Most personal and business relationships would start amicable enough only to end in bitter hostility. This was a pattern that was repeated all his life. As stated at the beginning of this three-part series, everyone has a Curtis story and we have already provided a sampling. Some of the most outlandish, although verified by reliable and independent sources, cannot be put into print. There are several areas, however, that we will explore further because they are representative of why he was so legendary.

We recognize that if he were alive to defend himself, he would have a different take on all of this. But there are some stories that are just irrefutable and supported by multiple, credible sources. Indeed, in preparing this article we would hear both sides: as he told it to friends and again, as told from the other party.

He was frugal to a fault. Sometimes his frugality was comical, as when he took the time to paste scores of two-cent postage stamps on a package. Sometimes it was baffling. For example, many readers would expect that a famous multi-millionaire gun collector would have as his personal defense gun a custom weapon by the likes of Armand Swenson or Frank Pachmayr. Instead, he asked his friend of nearly 40 years, Mike Todd, to build his from mismatched WWII surplus parts, specifically, a Remington Rand frame, an Ithaca slide and a mixture of internals.

Curtis absolutely thrilled in absconding with some trivial item from someone else. Mike Todd states, “I suppose that some may call it kleptomania, but on a number of occasions I was shocked to witness him take some trivial item and put it in his pocket. It was as if he was not even aware of what he was doing.” One individual interviewed for this article reported that he returned some ill-begotten items to their rightful owner after Curtis died. Other highly credible sources have told similar accounts such as the widely circulated story that security procedures were changed at the UK’s Ministry of Defence Pattern Room soon after a visit from Curtis.

Sometimes the excitement of a potentially questionable deal got the better of him. For example, the thought of owning historical military aircraft intrigued him and in 1982 he traded a Cessna 180 for a WWII AT-6 trainer. By 1989 he had sufficient money to not just buy prop-driven airplanes, but jet fighter aircraft. He bought a Chinese MiG-15, but the wings were improperly removed, destroying critical cables. He decided to manage the process himself and went to Beijing. Pat recalls, “He also bought dozens of new Chinese flying jackets – something really rare in the U.S. – and stuffed them in the fuselage. Well, it backfired. Customs found the jackets; he had to pay a fine and he gave most of them away.”

These stories are fascinating and amusing, but they do not get to the area that was the source of so much consternation. Curtis had to win every negotiation no matter how petty and dictate the terms of every transaction. Even if he gave something away, he still felt it was his to control or even take back. He may have been a multi-millionaire, but he obsessed in his ability to obtain things that others wanted and thereby control or influence others. Indeed, he reveled in it. Some specific examples help illustrate this trait.

Steve Earl, his grandson, states, “In 1997 my wife, Monica, and I visited Curt at his house in Boise. We had a great time and later that year I called and asked about my dad’s (Mike Earl) Maxim machine gun that he told me I could have. I also told him I would like to get a Tommy Gun from him, as this would be a great memento of my Grandpa. He told me he needed to drive his motor home to Boise and that if I did this road trip with him, he would give me the two guns. I flew to Phoenix, he did the paperwork for the two guns and I drove back as far as Logan with him.

“Curt called me that fall and asked if I could build him a used computer for a friend. I said I would be glad to and asked if he would like us to come up for Thanksgiving. He was alone and said he would really like that. We went to Boise, set up his friend’s computer and did a lot of yard work. He asked if I had sent in the paperwork for the guns yet, and I told him that my apartment was packed from top to bottom and that I would send the paperwork in just as soon as I had a place to put the guns in a safe place.

“I got a certified letter in the mail a month later and was told to tear up the paperwork for the guns as they had been sold to someone else. I called Curt and asked what was going on. He said this was because I didn’t send him a Christmas card. I explained that I had been overwhelmed with school, work and selling computers and that I hadn’t sent anyone a Christmas card that year. Well, having inherited Curt’s temperament to an extent, I told him exactly what I thought about this and then some.”

A similar story is told by Mike Todd. “Curt promised me a rare .50 Browning. I was busy and did not immediately submit the paperwork and at Christmas, the year before he died, after giving him my gift, he informed me that he had sold the gun and donated the money to the NRA. He told me, ‘It could not have meant much to you if it was taking you so long to get the paperwork in.’”

Yet another story is told by his daughter Tina. “In 1981 my husband and I helped him paint the Phoenix house and trim up the palm trees. After doing this, he surprised us and gave us a boat that had sat in his yard, unprotected, for about 10 years. We thought it could be a good long-term project and something to enjoy for years to come.

“All told, we spent nearly $1,000 over the winter buying new tires for the trailer, cables, electrical stuff and wood that we used to fix the top of the boat over the winter months in our spare time. All winter Dad kept on us to get it done so we could get it in the water. He said a friend was interested in restoring it if we didn’t want to do it. One day the next summer Dad showed up, hooked it up and took it away. He never gave us a dime in compensation.” Curtis would later tell his friend Mike Todd that he had paid for all the repairs and his daughter was letting the boat get destroyed through neglect.

Reaching the Limits

The point of the preceding stories is that if Curtis did this to family and friends, one can only imagine what happened to strangers or business associates. For many, such as this author, they do not have to imagine; they have heard dozens of such stories in the NFA community. But recognize that there is a distinct difference between the anger experienced over a bad business deal and the pain felt when Curtis interacted sometimes with friends, relatives and even lovers.

The problems he wrought finally reached a threshold limit for some Class 3 dealers and organizers of local shoots. One stated, “For years I would invite Curtis to my private shoots, but it got to the point where I would get calls from shooters who would contact me in advance to see if Curtis was coming. They would flatly refuse to go if he planned to be there… and these were people who got along with everyone. They had vast NFA collections and were respected by everyone. I finally had to tell Curtis that he could no longer come. That essentially terminated our relationship.”

Few Friends, Lots of Money

The tensions also were having their toll on Curtis’ health. By the mid 1980s he suffered a minor heart attack and eventually would have two angioplasties and a triple bypass operation. He prepared a prospectus to sell the business through Smira, Oliver and Associates of Phoenix with him staying on to serve as a consultant to the new owner. There were no takers in 1983 and he again attempted in 1992 to sell off the business, but once more, no takers. By the 1990s, the addition of fresh inventory had dropped off considerably and he was mostly selling off the stock he already owned.

Curtis had a weapon collection of unimaginable dreams, hundreds of acquaintances he called friends and a profitable business (he once complained that he had to pay taxes on a $200 Thompson that he had just sold for over $20,000). But in reality, he had few close, trusted relationships. Ian Scott, a gun collector from New South Wales, Australia, provides further insight. “Curt phoned me up in 1998 and more or less summoned me over to see him. He was making up his will and told me he wanted to include me in it. About two weeks later I flew to Boise to stay with him for a little more than a week. He was on his own and after a few days I realized he was a lonely old man in this great big house full of guns that collectors would give their front teeth for and few family or friends would come near him.

“I thought of all the influential and wealthy people he had met over the last 30 years that he could have been with yet here was me, a bulldozer driver from Australia, all he could scrape up to spend part of the summer with. And, like my other holidays with him, I forgot how many times I had to bite my tongue and shut up. But despite all this, I always liked him from the first time I met him in 1980, possibly because we both grew up on a farm and, as he did, I started collecting war souvenirs at around the age of nine.”

Their friendship was cemented after Australia banned the ownership of most guns in the wake of a 1996 shooting at a Port Arthur tourist spot. Ian could have received “fair market value” for his guns, but chose instead to ship one of his best guns, a Winchester Model 1897 trench gun, to Curtis as an outright gift. Curtis would later point to this gun on his wall in his display area and reveal that no one had ever done such an act of generosity before. It deeply touched him, maybe because it was so uncharacteristic of him, at least up until the time near his death.

As indicated, his relationships with his daughters and his grandchildren were volatile and unpredictable, to say the least. One would get in his good graces only to be on the outs again for some offending remark or for some trivial affront. Be they adults or teenage grandchildren, Curtis cut no slack. As his daughter Pat explains, “He would claim that he did not respect those that would put up with his gruff, but when people did challenge him, that was the end of the relationship. This happened to my son Terrance who got along very well with Curtis for a while.” Indeed, among family, his temper was legendary. Max Rigby, his childhood friend, summed up the situation, “We know he had a heart. You could still dig down and find it; but I think a lot of people put up with his temper because of his toys and his money.”

He did, however, start to build a relationship with his granddaughter Michelle Earl Cruson, Steve Earl’s half sister, which lasted until his death. Michelle was excited about learning to fly and her grandfather enthusiastically bought her a 1946 Cessna 140 and helped her with flying lessons. She commented, “He was very protective and specified who could instruct me. Grandfather also gave me a gun and insisted I obtain a concealed weapons permit. Once he went so far as to hire a private detective to investigate one of my past boyfriends. I thought it was cute. I had a great respect for my grandfather.”

Michelle continues, “I knew he had a reputation for being strong-willed, I suppose that is an Earl trait. My husband says I have a head like titanium at times. However, Grandfather had a heart of gold even with that gruff exterior. Sure, he made me cry at times and I sometimes did not understand him, but we clicked because we shared common interests such as flying, scuba diving, and we both loved nature. Every visit was like an enchanted adventure. Flying into and fishing together at Johnson Creek, Idaho, we caught our limits, and when prospecting in Yellow Pine, Idaho, we found gold. To me these were magical times.”

Probably his closest male friend was Gary Christopher, a nuclear engineer by profession, a pilot and a writer for aviation magazines. Some say that Gary was, in essence, the adult son that he never had. In addition, there were the previously mentioned Chuck Olsen and Mike Todd.

He also had two women friends that lasted for decades. Some, such as his granddaughter Michelle, were mostly familiar with Kay. But many knew Clare Wolf, his close companion of nearly 30 years who would accompany him to key family functions. But in the very end, this relationship was terminated suddenly and cruelly.

How were they able to get along with him where few others could? Gary Christopher provides some insight. “I had listened to so many of Curtis’ stories of him bitching about customers, business associates, dealers and others, that I quickly recognized that under no circumstances could I have anything remotely resembling a business relationship with him.” Olsen recognized the same restrictions, “You just could not get sucked into any type of deal. I tried once on a trivial deal involving some Thompson drums and immediately recognized this would only lead to disaster.”

There were a few other close friends, but these just mentioned were the ones that were there with him, literally, to the very end. He could “squeeze a penny until it cried,” as someone once said, but he could also be generous in the extreme at the same time. If the stars were all aligned in perfect order, and if you had the personality and skill to help keep these aligned, Curtis could be an absolutely wonderful, fun person to be around. (Author’s note: My wife once had dinner with him and a group of friends and found him to be absolutely charming and funny.)

The Quest for a Legacy

As the end of the millennium approached, Curtis started to turn his attention to building a permanent legacy. He would tell family members that he was worried that his life’s work would disappear, that a “safety-minded” government would confiscate his weapons and lock them up or melt them down. He believed that a museum was a way to share his life and teach the history of weapons to future generations. As described in Part One, at Arizona air shows decades earlier, he set up a display of aircraft machine guns and explained the connection between the evolution of guns and airplanes. He loved this attention and wanted to extend the concept. He wanted something permanent, however, and in keeping with Curtis’ persona, something that he controlled.

He started to talk to various museums and once the word got out, many came courting his favor. He loved the adulation as they wined and dined him. One of the main reasons that he chose the Idaho State Historical Society was that they agreed to renovate a separate, dedicated wing in the historic Old Idaho Penitentiary and name it after him, the J Curtis Earl Memorial Exhibit. An excellent virtual tour of the museum is available online (Google: Idaho State Historical Society).

Curtis, formally trained in wildlife biology, loved Idaho’s 12 wilderness areas, frequently spending summers there with Clare in a camping trailer and eventually buying a second home in Boise in 1986. He also established the J Curtis Earl Idaho Aviation Foundation in 1998 as a companion organization to the Idaho Aviation Association. It was formed for the purpose of preserving airports within Idaho and, in particular, those associated with the Wilderness Within Reach program.

For those who only knew Curtis through these specific donations and charitable activities, he was highly admired. Friends and relatives said that it was admiration above all else, possibly even love, that Curtis desperately craved. He needed his name on the plaque on the wall, as it were, as a permanent reminder to others. His friend, Gail Halvorsen, the Berlin airlift hero, was admired for who he was and his kindness to others. Curtis must have known down deep that he needed to use his wealth to gain the admiration he so desperately sought.

The Final Days

In early 2000, Curtis was feeling ill and was having problems with his throat. It was quickly diagnosed as cancer. Initial treatments failed, including the removal of numerous lymph nodes in his neck and jaw. His doctors recommended extensive radiation treatments and provided brochures explaining the side effects. As Gary Christopher recounts, “I watched him take the information and toss it in the trash can in his kitchen.” He would rather die at home than go through that horrific treatment process.

His doctors insisted that he would need to be hospitalized to get proper care. Not surprisingly, he became extremely agitated with his doctors and even their receptionists, so much so that one physician reportedly threatened to contact the police have him arrested if he came back to the office (he must have known about Curtis’ “arsenal”). Eventually, Curtis agreed to 24/7 home nursing and hospice care. The cancer was spreading to his brain and he would be in considerable pain and in need of extensive medication, more akin to what one would receive in a hospital.

He had an attorney in Tucson, but he fired him and called in someone he had known for years who also had been a past customer. He liked this attorney’s aggressive style, he told friends, and it appeared he also liked his attractive wife. Curtis may have been ill, but he was still Curtis.

His small circle of friends, the lawyer and his wife, and his granddaughter Michelle were the only ones allowed to know of the gravity of his illness or come to his assistance, but his condition was deteriorating rapidly. Although his résumé stated that he was a Protestant, Curtis was born into a strict Mormon family, but he was not religious. And at this stage of his life, as he was dying from cancer, he could find no comfort in his religion.

The situation was becoming grim and chaotic. Mike Todd, his friend for decades, became increasingly frustrated at what was happening, “I tried to intervene at one point and Curtis did not back me. It had reached the point where I thought it was best if I got out of there before I became too angry and do something I’d regret.”

One night the situation turned really frightening. Curtis became agitated and delirious and pulled out the .45 he kept in a holster on the headboard of his bed. Clare, fearing that he may injure himself or others, called 911 seeking medical help. Not surprisingly, the police were sent first, confiscated the gun and detained him in a hospital facility until his condition stabilized. Curtis went ballistic and never spoke again to Clare. Later the attorney and Gary went to the Phoenix police department with the appropriate paperwork and retrieved the gun. The house was cleared of his loaded “security guns” within reach and most were given to Chuck Olsen.

In the final months, the “J Curtis Earl Trust” started to “change” and to friends and relatives these alterations appeared to have been based more on petty grievances in his altered state of mind than any sort of rational logic. To be sure, some such as Michelle, his granddaughter and pride and joy, were appropriately recognized in the Trust, but others received not so much as a penny even though their relations had extended over decades or they were blood relatives. For example, both his sister Marilyn and his eldest grandson, Steven Curtis Earl, the only heir to carry on the Earl lineage and Michelle’s half-brother, were specifically excluded.

The wife of his attorney received the Boise home. The attorney also became the trustee of the estate with enormous discretionary powers. In January 2007, records indicate the attorney resigned from the State Bar of California in the wake of disbarment proceedings after he was “convicted of possessing an assault weapon.” In addition, he was arrested in 2005 by “federal customs officials in Miami, Florida, as he returned to the United States” because he “allegedly created the phony transactions that hid the income. (He) allegedly failed to report more than $6 million in income on his state income tax return for 2003.”

The preceding documented facts, of course, do not imply that anything improper occurred with the Trust. Some friends and relatives, however, still wonder to this day what went on in those final days. Pat requested in 2000 a detailed accounting from the trustee, also a CPA, and received a one-page handwritten note that said little. In addition, Michelle reports that she had to once fly to Phoenix to take him to court to resolve outstanding issues.

So bothered was Ian Scott over the treatment of some of the friends that years afterward on a visit to the United States, he distributed the gold coins that Curtis gave him to those that had received nothing. Similarly, Curtis’ daughters shared their inheritance with Curtis’ sister Marilyn and grandson Steve.

On the other hand, he gave his Cadillac to the mailman who always went out of his way to properly deliver packages to the door, out of the rain. He also gave a quarter of a million dollars to the NRA because, as Chuck Olsen would later relate, “Guns have always been good to me and I wanted to do something for all gun owners.” He gave his portion of an Arizona gold mine to the Buffalo Bill Museum in Cody, Wyoming. Again, his generosity and petty vindictiveness reached both ends of the spectrum.

So who was J Curtis Earl?

In the end, his cremated remains were put in a .30 caliber ammo can and placed in his beloved AT-6 airplane. Gary Christopher and Michelle Earl Cruson (who were both there by his home bedside when he literally drew his final breath) departed from a gathering of friends and relatives at the Deer Valley Airport in north Phoenix. They flew off to Idaho to scatter his ashes on the back-country airstrips that he loved – a fitting urn and scattering of the ashes, if there ever was one.

Pat says it best, “My dad, J Curtis Earl, was a rambunctious, complicated enigma of a man who lived his life with passion. He gave 100% to things that he cared about; a master at staying focused on his goals and tuning out distractions.”

In some respects, trying to answer the question of who he was is like the poem published in 1873 of the six blind men and the elephant. Each had a different perspective, depending on what part they touched. I once asked Gary Christopher, “What makes him tick?” He responded, “If you are trying to find the answer to that question, you will get nowhere.” He was right, but I would like to think I shined some light on this complicated man.

As for Gary, Mike, Ian and Chuck, they saw a man surrounded by many people, even the rich and famous, but down deep Curtis was a very lonely person. Gary would relate, “He would call me up and almost in a pleading tone say, ‘Lets get together and do something, even if it is wrong.’” Other close friends and relatives saw this side of him. They also recognized that he was a man who treated so many others unfairly, but who suffered horribly at the end.

For fellow members of the NFA community who thought they knew this enigma, it is not right for us to summarily brush him off in a few words such as “unbelievably difficult.” That he was and so much more. But at least now you have a better idea of J Curtis Earl. No one really knew him, least of all himself.

Epilog

As we described in Part One of this series, we have neither attempted to build his fame, nor do a character assassination. We have laid out the facts through detailed research, numerous interviews and the patience and support of his closest friends and relatives. A unique aspect of the article has been the inclusion of detailed information and photographs from his personal life. Yes, we have described his business strategy and famous gun collection, but this article would have provided no insight into the man himself if we left it to only those areas. This article has been as much about the man as it is in how he made millions as an early Class 3 gun dealer.

Preparing this article has been a unique experience for the author. J Curtis Earl’s friends and relatives are an exceptional group of individuals. Recalling events and digging through photo albums brought back some wonderful memories, but, especially for the direct family members, it also brought back into focus some incredibly painful events. We wish to personally thank them for their support in preparing this article. In particular, we wish to thank relatives Pat Earl Anderson, Marilyn Earl Winsett, Steve Earl, Michelle Earl Cruson and Tina Earl Wolford; wives and companions Dotti Cottle Campbell, Clare Wolf; friends Chuck Olsen, Gary Christopher, Max Rigby, Ian Scott and Mike Todd; and others that assisted us in preparing this article such as Randy Myers, Idan Greenberg, Robert Segel, the Idaho State Historical Society and many unnamed sources.

By Richard MacLean

A story of business success based on talent, fate, timing, luck and skill in asking the right questions

This interview traces Robbie Barrkman’s progression, first as a competitive shooter and trainer on through his career as a leading figure in small arms innovation and customization. The story is a mini biography as well as a case study in how successful weapons’ businesses are conceived and evolve. Some may think that success depends on an original design and the business skills to commercially develop and market the products. William Ruger is a classic example of both a designer and a person with good business skills.

But the elements of business success are much more complicated than just these two factors. Even with an outstanding design, a business can struggle if the timing is wrong (e.g. Thompsons and Auto Ordnance after World War I). Sometimes it can be fate that links people with complementary skills together (e.g. Horace Smith, Daniel Wesson and investor Oliver Winchester). Or it can be something as mundane as asking the right questions, as will soon be illustrated.

SAR: How did you first become interested in shooting?

Robbie: My dad was a hunter and shooter since childhood. When I was a child, my mother and I would accompany him on Saturday afternoons to the range outside of Johannesburg. My mom was terrified of guns and would come along and read to pass the time. One of the women convinced her to try her luck and her first time up she absolutely drilled the targets. She had a phenomenal, natural ability and within two years was a national champion. Ironically, she never lost her unease over guns.

So basically I was born into a shooting family. My first gun was a lever-action Daisy BB rifle and I was so small my dad had to cock it. When I turned 14 – the legal age for owning a rifle in South Africa – my birthday present was a .22 BSA Henry Martini target rifle. I started shooting competition and did not enjoy it all that much. But at 18, my Dad introduced me to pistol shooting and that really caught my fancy. I started shooting ISU (International Shooting Union) matches.

Right around that time, combat shooting was beginning to generate interest in South Africa. Joe Grant-Greeson went over to the States and trained with the FBI on two-handed shooting similar to the Weaver stance instead of the usual single-handed target shooting. Within a month of his return, I was participating in his classes. We were shooting combat-style from barricades and so on and this really set me on fire.

I got some of my friends involved and we formed our first combat club. We were allowed to use a small range off to one side of my parent’s shooting club. Bill Jordan’s No Second Place Winner was like a bible to us. I had a Smith & Wesson K38 and ammunition was extremely expensive so we all had to reload. My first was one of those Lee Hand Loaders and it took me hours each week to get ready for the upcoming weekend shoots. No one had automated presses such as RCBS or Star – you just could not buy them in a commercial store. The arms embargo had a major effect on our ability to buy guns, ammunition and reloading equipment.

SAR: When did you first meet Jeff Cooper?

Robbie: We had heard about Jeff Cooper in the early 1970s. I talked to the guys and suggested that we try to get him to come out to South Africa to run a class since it would be cheaper than having the 20 of us fly to the States. In 1973, he came out for the first of three visits and stayed at my house.

I hit it off right away with Jeff. I recall first picking him up at the Johannesburg airport and there he was standing at the baggage pickup wearing cowboy boots which was unusual, to say the least, in South Africa. But on top of that, one leg of his trousers was tucked inside one of them. I leaned over and said, “Mr. Cooper, just so you know, your trouser leg is caught in your boot.” Jeff was a big man and he looked down at me and said, “I know. I do that because it makes me look different.” I knew then that this was going to be a really interesting experience. (Laughs)

Jeff was a great motivator. That first class was an eye-opener and got everyone excited. After he left, I called a meeting of the group and we decided to form the South African Practical Shooting Association. It is still in existence today. The problem back then was that without government recognition, the members could not officially represent South Africa in international shooting events.

SAR: How did you go about securing credentials for the new shooting club?

Robbie: With many things in life, it is not what you know, but who you know. (Laughs) My dad was the Chairman of the country’s Shooting Association, which was the controlling body for all shooting in South Africa. The SASA had official government support from the Department of Sports. By coming under the SASA umbrella, we could receive national recognition representing the country in international competition. Only the government could award the green blazer called “Springbok colours” to sports teams, not just shooting teams. It was a really big deal, similar to being named an All-American athlete. It was instantly recognizable within the country and even places like Australia which had a similar system.

At first, SASA really fought us for a long time since it was not traditional shooting. They thought it might be dangerous and had no sporting application. Even my own father was making comments like, “Why don’t you do something else?” Gradually, we grew to the point that they recognized that there would be benefits to coming under their charter. It took several years to convince them, but I learned very valuable negotiation skills in how to create win-win combinations that later proved useful in business.

The first officially sanctioned shoot was with Rhodesia and I went as team captain. By 1976, the group had grown to a couple of hundred and we now had the membership and money to participate in world championships. In 1976, our team participated in the second world International Practical Shooting Confederation (IPSC) in Salzburg, Austria.

SAR: What were you doing to earn a living during this time period?

Robbie: My father was a pathologist and he wanted me to go to medical school. I had no interest in spending eleven years in school so the compromise was to major in dental technology since it was five years. In South Africa, dental technologists are tightly controlled and registered with the same councils as doctors and dentists. You had to be registered to run a lab.

I started a laboratory making crowns, bridges and so on. The timing was perfect because there was a huge demand. It was extremely exacting work since patients and their doctors get very upset if the work is not perfect and even slight imperfections become obvious because of fit issues. This was my first exposure to the importance of quality control and customer service. At the time I came over to the States, the laboratory I sold was one of the biggest in South Africa.

SAR: What about military service?

Robbie: When I left secondary school (high school), I went straight into the army. In South Africa, the military is similar to those in Switzerland and Israel and does not have a standing army. It is an active “Citizen Force” with two years of basic training, then occasional weekend exercises and a dedicated one-month-per-year for three years after that. If you were able to obtain rank, you could stay on. I was in for a total of eleven-and-a-half years ultimately obtaining the rank of sergeant major.

The South African Defence Force was equipped at the time with 7.62mm FAL R1 rifles made in Pretoria under license by Fabrique Nationale. Senior NCOs could use an Uzi instead of the FAL and officers were issued a Spanish Star 9mm sidearm. I was the only NCO in my regiment allowed to carry a sidearm, specifically my Browning Hi-Power, because of my background in shooting and being a Springbok. Plus, I received free 9mm ammunition. (Laughs)

In 1976, I was asked to set up a range and training classes for officers entering the Angolan operational area. I must admit, I got a certain amount of enjoyment ordering around these officers. I had an obstacle course set up and I really put them through some tough training. But again, it was a great learning experience in dealing with sometimes temperamental and self-important people.

SAR: What prompted you to make the transition to the States?

Robbie: At the world championship, Jeff Cooper invited me to visit Gunsite, which he was in the process of building. In April of 1977, my wife and I decided to make the trip since she wanted to visit her parents living in Miami and I wanted to take a look at some dental products for my lab. It was a multifaceted trip.

I visited Gunsite as a student instructor and got a certificate that Jeff told me was the very first he had issued. We were sitting at the lunch table and it is interesting how little remarks can change your whole life. Jeff said, “Too bad you do not live here, I’d really like to bring you on staff.” I talked it over with my wife and she urged me to ask him if he was really serious. He was.

On this trip, I met a guy named Rick Durkee in Phoenix who was interested in opening a dental lab. He had a network of contacts, but no experience in setting up and running such a business. This was exactly my expertise so it had the potential for a perfect partnership. In August of 1977, we came back over to the States after working out a deal with Jeff to teach at Gunsite one week, every two months. We ended up selling the dental lab and our house in South Africa.

SAR: How did you go from part time instructor to full-time staff member?

Robbie: In the early days of Gunsite, the classes were run sporadically according to the demand. For nearly two years, I was so busy with the lab that I did not even teach a class. Then fate intervened again. I was learning how to fly and my instructor and I decided to fly up to Gunsite and use its landing strip. As soon as I arrived, Jeff approached me and asked me to come on staff full time. Right at that time, someone had approached my partner and me to buy the dental lab. It all came together. Initially, I commuted from Phoenix, but by 1981 I was a full-time instructor.

SAR: How did Robar get started?

Robbie: Before I started teaching full time, I had started to gunsmith on the side in my Phoenix house and was also repairing students’ guns in the barn at Gunsite. For liability and other reasons, I decided it was time to incorporate so I went to the Arizona Corporation Commission to fill out the forms in 1981. The woman there asked for the corporate name and I had not even given it a thought until that moment. I picked it there on the spot, “RO – BAR,” from my first and last names. In retrospect it seems odd, but at the time I did not worry about such stuff as corporate names.

Eventually, Jeff wanted me to live up there. He offered to build a home for me to live in along with an attached gunsmith shop that I leased from Jeff. I had been doing some nickel plating back in South Africa and even built my own rectifier from information I got from the book Electro-Plating for the Amateur. I suppose this machine was the very beginning of my company.

My gunsmithing and plating business really started to grow. It was great working at Gunsite because I came in contact with all sorts of agency people – some real shooters – who explained their needs and issues. Some would leave their guns for me to customize to their specifications. That’s how I got into customization.

The timing was perfect since the whole field of custom tactical weapons was in its infancy and I was surrounded by people with cutting-edge knowledge like Clint Smith and Gale McMillan. I asked a million questions and combined this knowledge with my own experience as an IPSC shooter and NCO in the army. For example, I developed some concepts for tactical shotguns and these were commercialized in an agreement with Roger Small of Scattergun Technologies.

The issue that developed was that there were two, separate businesses emerging at Gunsite: my own and Jeff’s. Jeff ran a tight ship and sometimes he could assert his views into how I was running my business. In 1986, we parted ways and I set up shop in a small portion of the commercial building I’m still in today.

With Jeff it was sort of a love-hate relationship, but I always completely respected his knowledge and talent. I last saw him at the 2006 SHOT Show in Las Vegas before he died later that year. It was really heart wrenching to see a man who was once such a big strong guy looking so frail in a wheelchair. We talked for nearly an hour and it was great to re-connect.

SAR: How did you come up with NP3 – the Teflon-based coating Robar is so well-known for?

Robbie: I dreamed that one up on the toilet. (Laughs) No, it’s true, but it obviously requires some explanation.

Drilling platforms in the North Atlantic were having problems with the stainless steel unloading couplings galling. The Dutch firm Akso Nobel invented an electroless nickel-Teflon coating to solve the problem, but they needed help getting it out of the laboratory and commercializing it further. The UK company Fothergill Engineered Surfaces joined them in a partnership to commercialize and market the product.

My local supplier of plating chemicals stopped by and as a joke I asked, “What do you have today that I don’t have?” This question turned out to be critical. He left a flyer on nickel-Teflon coatings. I put it aside and one morning on the way to the “reading room” I grabbed the literature and within a matter of minutes, I understood its potential. I immediately got on phone to start the process of obtaining exclusive licensing rights to weapons coating.

Dr. Paul Ebdon approached me to join us in commercializing NP3 and come over to the States. NP3 stands for Nickel – Polytetrafloride and 3 is part of the formula. Robar was predominantly custom gunsmithing in the beginning, but the coating business gradually grew, especially after a cover story article on NP3 appeared in SWAT magazine around 1987. I decided to spin off the coatings business as a separate company called Coatings Technology in 1987. What made the coatings business really take off was our entry into the aerospace business.

SAR: How did you get into the aerospace business?

Robbie: Again, fate intervened. A guy showed up one day with a disassembled Enfield .303 that was his dad’s. He needed help getting it cleaned up and back together. While he was in the shop, he noticed a pistol that had just been NP3’d. Turned out that he was a materials processing engineer working at McDonald Douglas. He was so interested in the coating that he told his manager about it. Within two weeks, she was at our shop and was so impressed that she helped us set up the necessary QC and standards manuals to become an approved vendor for McDonald Douglas. This directly helped us later getting Nadcap certified. You cannot get any business in that industry without this certification.

SAR: What is Nadcap and does this help with the gunsmithing side of the business?

Robbie: The Nadcap Program (National Aerospace and Defense Contractors Accreditation) is similar to ISO 9000 certification only much more rigorous. Mil Spec is another term that many are familiar with, but it is a minimum standard and you are not even audited unless you are doing military contract work. The trend today is to have Nadcap certification to increase the chances of success on a military contract bid. Once we got Nadcap certification, Dr. Ebdon and I went on the road marketing to the aerospace industry to get the word out about NP3.

The NADCAP process has created a quality headset in the business that we otherwise probably would not have had. From the gun coating side of the business, it means that customers get the exact same treatment on their parts as a component that is meant for some exotic aerospace unit, since we use the same coating tanks and quality systems.

Another benefit with this rigorous systems approach is that we have gotten excellent comments and no citations from ATF when they have come out to do audits. We are an 07 manufacturer and at any one time there are, let’s just say, more than a few guns around, so keeping track of these is essential for maintaining our license.

The aerospace business has enabled us to afford the equipment and staff that would be difficult, if not impossible, to justify solely by gunsmithing. It is a win for our customers and a win for us. I think it is indicative of today’s competitive business environment. You need to have some niche or advantage if you are to survive.

SAR: Speaking of business environment, what are your views on how the small arms industry is evolving?

Robbie: The really large companies such as Remington, Heckler and Koch and Winchester have the financial resources to compete in the global marketplace. There is no way that small or mid-size companies such as ours can go head-to-head against these firms in doing things like manufacturing actions for the mass markets.

Twenty years ago, companies like Robar and McMillan had little competition in building tactical rifles and competition pistols. But the technology has changed and the trend now is toward modular systems. It is possible to have companies such as Bushmaster or Less Bare assemble from components and produce an excellent weapon suitable for most needs. The components are so good now that it is even possible for the do-it-yourself gunsmith to build a weapon rivaling those of just a decade ago.

There will, of course, always be niche markets for specialized firms. For example, the small, one- and two-person shops doing custom gunsmithing and gun repair. But for larger firms such as us with 26 employees, you really must have some special advantage that sets you apart. In our case, it is our coatings technologies and our reputation for building superior tactical weapons where lives are on the line.

SAR: Thank you, Robbie, for taking the time to talk about your background and evolution of your business.

The Colt Thompson submachine gun has become the icon of organized crime and the gangsters of the 20s and 30s. Indeed, its use by criminals who made the twenties roar was a leading cause of the National Firearms Act of 1934.

Not surprisingly, many of the Thompsons used by gangsters had their serial numbers obliterated. This article examines the practice of serial number removal by criminals and their recovery by forensic firearm examiners. Gangsters of that period did not know it, but there is a hidden number on all early Thompsons. We will describe how to reveal these numbers using an amnesty-registered gangster Thompson and why even today, these techniques can shed new information about the history of these nearly century-old submachine guns.

Crime: Some Things Never Change

Law enforcement organizations are extremely interested in weapons’ serial numbers for obvious reasons. The numbers may link criminals to other crimes and specifically to robberies that may have been the source of the weapons in the first place. Of growing significance is that their identification may lead to patterns involving criminal activities such as straw purchases and dealers who may be supplying guns to organized crime networks. The mere presence of an obliterated serial number on a crime gun is a good indicator of trafficking because it shows that someone in the chain of possession presumed that the gun will be used in a future crime, may have to be discarded and might be recovered by the police.

Tracing of crime gun serial numbers has been around since serial numbers first appeared on guns. With respect to Thompsons, two of the more famous cases involved the tracking of Thompsons supplied to the Irish Republican Army in 1921 and the forensic examination of the Saint Valentine’s Day Massacre weapons.

Fast forwarding to this century, a report by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms that analyzed 88,570 trace requests made by law enforcement officials in 44 communities found that crime guns are now predominantly handguns (77 percent) and, among handguns, mostly semiautomatic pistols which alone account for half (50 percent) of all crime guns traced. Almost 10 percent of the traces involved handguns with obliterated or partially obliterated serial numbers. The proportion of handguns with obliterated serial numbers is nearly twice as large for semiautomatic pistols (11.3 percent) as for revolvers (6.3 percent). Obliteration is more common on guns used in crimes committed by individuals under 24.

Although obliterated serial numbers on guns are relatively common, prosecutions are infrequent. One 2003 study found that between 2000 and 2002, Federal prosecutors throughout the nation filed only 259 cases against individuals in possession of a gun with an obliterated serial number. Marc Dupre of FoCoSS Forensics states, “The lack of follow-through is probably due to the difficulty prosecutors have in proving that the individual knowingly obliterated the numbers and/or understood its illegality (a Federal felony punishable by five years). Another factor may be that the prosecutors typically have a robust shopping list of other crimes which would send these individuals to prison.”

Obliteration Methods and Recovery Techniques

The techniques outlined here are commonly known and documented in publicly available books and articles. This information was reviewed by practicing firearms examiners and certain facts not commonly known are not revealed.

The most common form of serial number removal is surface grinding or filing. Over the past 13 years, Marc Dupre has rarely seen other techniques such as peening, chiseling, center punching, drilling or welding. Sometimes specific numbers will be altered by over stamping such as changing a 6 to an 8 or a 1 to a 4. A lot of 8s and 4s are a red flag.

Even though the numbers have been totally removed, at least visually, the crystalline structure of the metal underneath remains unaltered. The serial numbers can sometimes be recovered by techniques that differentiate between the unaltered and altered crystalline structure directly beneath the original numbers. The most common method is to first polish the area and then etch the prepared surface. The altered crystalline areas etch at a different rate than the surrounding metal, revealing the original numbers.

There are a dozen different etching reagents, depending on the type of metal (e.g., steel, aluminum, brass). There are also electrochemical, ultrasonic, magnetic and heat techniques to name a few, and because this is a visual examination, the right type of lighting and photographic enhancements help tremendously. Needless to say, there is as much art as science involved in successful serial number recovery.

Marc Dupre states, “Success rates as high as 80 percent have been reported in the literature. Much depends on the method used to obliterate the number in the first place; some are more effective that others and this is an area we keep within the profession, for obvious reasons.”

Overlooking the Obvious

Modern weapons typically have the serial number in more than one place. A state police firearms examiner who wished to remain anonymous for this article states, “Criminals can be incredibly stupid. I have seen guns such as Glocks with the stamped metal serial number strip removed from the frame, but the matching numbers on the barrel and slide unaltered.”

His oddest case of “What were they thinking?” involved Smith & Wesson Model 66 stainless steel revolvers. “When this model first came out about 20 years ago, they were extremely popular and many were stolen. Someone was professionally welding up the serial numbers visible on the frame and re-stamping new numbers. It was difficult even for forensic examiners to tell that these were not the original numbers, except for one glaring mistake – the secondary had not been altered near the cylinder yoke.”

But even century-old guns can have multiple serial number locations. German manufacturers in particular seemed to be obsessed with adding the last few digits of the complete number to every little part. The classic example is the Luger P08. In fact, all matching numbers is a major factor for collectable guns.

Some of this numbering is to maintain hand-fitted components or parts matched for cosmetic reasons, but in the case of rifle bolts, for example, it is absolutely critical to match the correct bolt to the gun to ensure proper headspace. Sometimes assembly numbers that have no relationship to the serial number are also used because a number had yet to be assigned.

In the case of Thompsons, all of these factors came into play. Early Colt guns were marked on the left side of the receiver and on the underside of the of the trigger frame. Model 1928 and 1928A1 Thompsons were also so marked. Some M1 and M1A1 Thompsons had trigger frame serial numbers, but that practice was terminated later in World War II. Specifications after 1943 specified “receiver-only markings.” The reason is obvious for military guns: guns sent back for repair soon were mismatched.

The first thousand Thompsons had the number on the ramp face of the chamber on the barrel. It is sometimes possible to see this from the extractor cutout in the receiver. Some specially-ordered guns had serial numbers placed in visible locations such as on the Cutts Compensator so that the numbers could be observed when stored in a gun rack.

There are also matching assembly numbers placed under both the butt plate and butt stock. Gordon Herigstad, author of Colt Thompson Serial Numbers, is aware of at least one occasion where these numbers were also removed even though they were just assembly numbers. Its accompanying C drum’s serial number was obliterated as well.

But the only guaranteed way to uncover the original serial number was through barrel removal and examination of the flat area on the receiver under the forearm. Not only were gangsters oblivious to this hidden number, they did not have the tools or knowledge to reveal it. Indeed, special tools are required to complete this operation without marring, or in any way damaging, these valuable guns.

Douglas W. Richardson of Malibu, California, manufactures the required barrel wrench and receiver vice. The process is straightforward as shown by gunsmith Nelson Ford of Phoenix, Arizona, on an amnesty-registered gun with an IRS-issued number 6377-D. The original receiver markings on this gun are peened off and the trigger frame numbers both peened and ground off. Gordon Herigstad correctly predicted beforehand that the serial number would be under 3,000 because of its “early markings” (i.e., “Full Automatic” and “Semi Automatic” spelled out on the trigger frame).

Like many Thompsons of that period, Auto-Ordnance had no specific information on what is now known to be serial number 2976. Colt manufactured the gun but they were a subcontractor to Auto-Ordnance and did not maintain detailed records on the guns that they did not own and, of course, the original Auto-Ordnance is out of business.

The current owner, Charles Olsen jokes, “I was hoping it was sold to a hardware store outside Chicago.” Indeed, a few of these stores were the source of many of the crime guns of that era. With the number revealed, maybe someday the truth will be known.

History to be Uncovered

Pulling the barrel on a Thompson and discovering the original serial number is more than just an exercise in curiosity. Obviously, the criminals are long since dead, as are the cases that may have involved these guns. Discovering the original serial number is not about putting people in jail: it is about uncovering lost history. These guns represent the very symbol of a bygone terror that still stirs the imagination today.

Gordon Herigstad states, “There were approximately 200 of the 495 Thompsons – known as the Rorke guns – that were destined for the Irish Republican Army. You can usually identify them since a chisel was used to obliterate the serial numbers. In addition, Peter Von Frantzius was an armorer who supplied Thompsons with ground-off serial numbers to gangsters in the Chicago area. Overall, however, there are relatively few – possibly a dozen or less – Thompsons in museums or in private collections with obliterated numbers.”

Some of these still hold secrets yet to be uncovered. For example, Herigstad describes two that he is aware of, “There is one in the New York City Police Museum reported to have been used on July 1, 1928 by Fred “Killer” Burke to murder Frankie (Uale) Yale who ran afoul of Al Capone. It was the first time a Thompson was used in New York gangland warfare and it is assumed to be directly linked to Al Capone. The visible serial numbers are ground off and the only real proof is that key bit of information which the museum does not have. I have the numbers of all the guns bought by Capone and can make the definite link.”

Marc Dupre examined several close-up photographs of this submachine gun and believes that the number could be restored, “You never know until you give it a try.” Ironically, its value as a piece of gangster history would actually decrease if such a restoration were to be attempted. The only way to both preserve its significance and trace its origin is to remove the barrel, document the number and re-attach the barrel.

Herigstad continues, “Another interesting gun is in the Rock Island Arsenal Museum in Illinois. One of the 17 Thompsons in their collection has obliterated numbers, and if I pulled the barrel, I could immediately tell if it is also one of the famous Chicago gangster guns. It was acquired locally in 1955 and without any descriptive history, but since Chicago is only 160 miles away, one can easily speculate there may be a connection. Hopefully someday history will be uncovered on these two Thompsons.”

(Thank you to Chuck Olsen, Gordon Herigstad, Marc Dupre and Nelson Ford for their assistance in the preparation of this article.)