Trooper224
Member
This is Baby, a S&W Model 27-2 manufactured in 1973, my all time favorite handgun. I had the camera out today for another project, so I thought I'd take some glamour shots.
I started my LE career with one of Baby's siblings, in four inch configuration. It was 1991-92 and I'd been freed from my servitude to Uncle Sugar and had the bright idea that I should become a cop. I'm still wondering if that was a good idea.
At the time the transition from revolvers to semi-autos was well under way. However, the small department I started with, with just over a hundred personnel, mandated the wheelgun. I'd been a devotee of the 1911 during my military service and remain so to this day, but I've always loved revolvers. Wheel guns are real guns, as the saying goes. In fact, all of my fun guns are revolvers. You know, the ones that I pull out of the safe and think, "Jeez, that's cool." Consequently, it didn't fill me with any great degree of consternation to have to carry one.
I then looked around for a piece for which to cast my shekels and found that first Model 27. It had been made in the 80's and was one of the last pin and recessed examples of the kind made. At the time everyone considered the revolver to be a dead horse, so I acquired that first one for the sum of $300. It fit my big hands like a glove, a fact that cemented the Smith & Wesson N frame revolver in my affection. K and L frames are a bit small for me and J frames are laughable, but the big N frame is perfection. To this day the N frame Smith's are my favorite wheel guns, in all their various configurations. Back then, if you still carried a revolver and wanted to be one of the cool kids it was an S&W L frame 686, or maybe a Ruger GP100. Consequently, I recieved a bit of ribbing from my coworkers because of my big iron. I could have cared less as the fit was perfect and I could fire the heaviest magnum loads out of it with minimal wear and tear on either myself or the weapon. The other lone outlier was my Lieutenant, who carried a nickeled Colt Python. We simply prided ourselves on being connoisseur's of fine shooting iron, whereas the colonials, in their ignorance, simply didn't understand. That original example served me well and we shared a few highly sporting moments together. Then, in a moment of supreme stupidity, I let it go. By then I'd gone to work for the state and had to carry the mandated hardware, so the big iron languished in the safe. Eventually I traded it off for something I thought I needed more, which I didn't and proceeded to kick myself for it for the next fifteen years.
Then, the gods of fire and thunder finally took pity on me and I found Baby.
She had saved herself for me all that time, waiting unfired in her factory box since 1974, nestled in dried grease and wrapped in Smith and Wesson wax paper, knowing I would find her at that gunshow in 2008. The seller quoted his price, which needless to say was far more than what I paid for the first one, and I paid it without hesitation. I caused a bit of teeth grinding amongst Smith & Wesson collectors when I voiced my intention to make this one a shooter instead of a safe queen, but life is far too short to deprive oneself of such pleasure and what a shooter she is. The double action trigger pull is typical of S&W's of the era: smooth but heavy. My Timney Trigger Gauge tops out at ten ponds and I'm pretty sure it goes past that, but feels like ball bearings on glass. As such, the trigger weight isn't a handicap to good shooting. The single action trigger is a glass-like three pounds, so when you put your finger on the trigger you're past the point of consideration. I tend to gravitate to the S&W's manufactured in the early to mid 1970's as they tend to exhibit much of the old world quality of their forebearers, but without quite so hefty a price tag. This one fills that bill to a tee.
Like many things the original factory grips have become collectable in themselves. This is primarily because most of us threw them away as soon as we purchased the pistol. They were either too big, too small, or felt shaped like a carpenter's square. Because of this those throw away grips have risen far in value. Consequently, I immediately dismounted the oversized factory target grips and put them and the factory box away for safe keeping. I settled on a pair of grips made from sandalwood, by a now defunct company out of Thailand. They fit my hand as if custom made and for a princely sum of $35.00 work quite well. In fact, I've put the same grips on all my heavy recoiling N frames. However, I'm thinking something more traditional looking might be in order. Perhaps a set of target grips from Culina?
The fine details present on the Model 27 have always appealed to me, like the checkering on the top strap and barrel rib as well as the pinned barrel and recessed chambers. None of these things were really necessary, but were instead marks of quality, from a time when companies did things because they could as a way of making a statement.
In my mind nothing looks tougher than the three and a half inch barrel on the 27. It may exacerbate muzzle blast and flash, no, it definitely does do those things. However, everything in life should be done with style, so we make sacrifices for fashion.
I fully believe the revolver is obsolete when compared the the semi-automatic pistol and as such, I no longer carry one for any serious purpose. On the other hand, everything in life doesn't have to be, nor should be, judged strictly from a tactical perspective. Somethings can be appreciated for their quality and craftsmanship and simply for their cool factor. We can take joy in the simple possession and use of such things simply for their own sake. These are the reasons why Baby is my favorite handgun and will probably remain so. In fact, she may just be buried with me.
I started my LE career with one of Baby's siblings, in four inch configuration. It was 1991-92 and I'd been freed from my servitude to Uncle Sugar and had the bright idea that I should become a cop. I'm still wondering if that was a good idea.
At the time the transition from revolvers to semi-autos was well under way. However, the small department I started with, with just over a hundred personnel, mandated the wheelgun. I'd been a devotee of the 1911 during my military service and remain so to this day, but I've always loved revolvers. Wheel guns are real guns, as the saying goes. In fact, all of my fun guns are revolvers. You know, the ones that I pull out of the safe and think, "Jeez, that's cool." Consequently, it didn't fill me with any great degree of consternation to have to carry one.I then looked around for a piece for which to cast my shekels and found that first Model 27. It had been made in the 80's and was one of the last pin and recessed examples of the kind made. At the time everyone considered the revolver to be a dead horse, so I acquired that first one for the sum of $300. It fit my big hands like a glove, a fact that cemented the Smith & Wesson N frame revolver in my affection. K and L frames are a bit small for me and J frames are laughable, but the big N frame is perfection. To this day the N frame Smith's are my favorite wheel guns, in all their various configurations. Back then, if you still carried a revolver and wanted to be one of the cool kids it was an S&W L frame 686, or maybe a Ruger GP100. Consequently, I recieved a bit of ribbing from my coworkers because of my big iron. I could have cared less as the fit was perfect and I could fire the heaviest magnum loads out of it with minimal wear and tear on either myself or the weapon. The other lone outlier was my Lieutenant, who carried a nickeled Colt Python. We simply prided ourselves on being connoisseur's of fine shooting iron, whereas the colonials, in their ignorance, simply didn't understand. That original example served me well and we shared a few highly sporting moments together. Then, in a moment of supreme stupidity, I let it go. By then I'd gone to work for the state and had to carry the mandated hardware, so the big iron languished in the safe. Eventually I traded it off for something I thought I needed more, which I didn't and proceeded to kick myself for it for the next fifteen years.
Then, the gods of fire and thunder finally took pity on me and I found Baby.
She had saved herself for me all that time, waiting unfired in her factory box since 1974, nestled in dried grease and wrapped in Smith and Wesson wax paper, knowing I would find her at that gunshow in 2008. The seller quoted his price, which needless to say was far more than what I paid for the first one, and I paid it without hesitation. I caused a bit of teeth grinding amongst Smith & Wesson collectors when I voiced my intention to make this one a shooter instead of a safe queen, but life is far too short to deprive oneself of such pleasure and what a shooter she is. The double action trigger pull is typical of S&W's of the era: smooth but heavy. My Timney Trigger Gauge tops out at ten ponds and I'm pretty sure it goes past that, but feels like ball bearings on glass. As such, the trigger weight isn't a handicap to good shooting. The single action trigger is a glass-like three pounds, so when you put your finger on the trigger you're past the point of consideration. I tend to gravitate to the S&W's manufactured in the early to mid 1970's as they tend to exhibit much of the old world quality of their forebearers, but without quite so hefty a price tag. This one fills that bill to a tee.
Like many things the original factory grips have become collectable in themselves. This is primarily because most of us threw them away as soon as we purchased the pistol. They were either too big, too small, or felt shaped like a carpenter's square. Because of this those throw away grips have risen far in value. Consequently, I immediately dismounted the oversized factory target grips and put them and the factory box away for safe keeping. I settled on a pair of grips made from sandalwood, by a now defunct company out of Thailand. They fit my hand as if custom made and for a princely sum of $35.00 work quite well. In fact, I've put the same grips on all my heavy recoiling N frames. However, I'm thinking something more traditional looking might be in order. Perhaps a set of target grips from Culina?
The fine details present on the Model 27 have always appealed to me, like the checkering on the top strap and barrel rib as well as the pinned barrel and recessed chambers. None of these things were really necessary, but were instead marks of quality, from a time when companies did things because they could as a way of making a statement.
In my mind nothing looks tougher than the three and a half inch barrel on the 27. It may exacerbate muzzle blast and flash, no, it definitely does do those things. However, everything in life should be done with style, so we make sacrifices for fashion.
I fully believe the revolver is obsolete when compared the the semi-automatic pistol and as such, I no longer carry one for any serious purpose. On the other hand, everything in life doesn't have to be, nor should be, judged strictly from a tactical perspective. Somethings can be appreciated for their quality and craftsmanship and simply for their cool factor. We can take joy in the simple possession and use of such things simply for their own sake. These are the reasons why Baby is my favorite handgun and will probably remain so. In fact, she may just be buried with me.
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