Perhaps my choice of a protest chant could have been a bit less provocative and even original.
But after I fired off one round of “Hey, hey, ho, ho, cops with pepper spray gotta’ go!” lead tactical trainer Matt Schaefer looked me square in the eye and let loose a healthy dose of pepper spray to subdue this out-of-shape, middle-age smart aleck journalist. I posed more of a annoyance than a danger, and I suspect he just wanted to shut me up or make an example out of me.
Splat.
Schaefer hit me square in the middle of my forehead.
Undaunted. I kept on taunting Schaefer until the spray made its way into my mouth.
I muttered something about having tasted salsa that was hotter and asked for some chips to go with my pepper spray.
And then it hit me. I began hawing trowble tawlking.
Uh-oh.
Before I could mutter something pithy about silencing the press, officers grabbed me by the arms and led me up a couple of flights of stairs to the outside of the Tactical Defense Training Center in Canton to get a breath or two or three or four of fresh air and be treated by medics.
My stint as a protester so officers could train in the use of nonlethal Oleoresin Capsicum (OC) or pepper spray in anticipation of protests at the Republican National Convention in Cleveland was short-lived.
They did say I fell within the 15 percent — the small number of those whom the spray doesn’t immobilize instantly.
They joked that I would have to come back for the more advanced training on more hands-on tactics to subdue someone like me who doesn’t know better than to scatter long before officers are forced to unleash pepper spray.
Once outside, I was greeted by Jean Jorgensen, a tactical medic with the Summit County SWAT team and a paramedic in Green.
There was a lot of “you are doing great buddy” and other words of encouragement.
I didn’t make eye contact. I couldn’t.
In addition to making it hard to tawlk, the pepper spray also makes it impossible to open your eyes.
My eyes were painfully wide shut by the time I made it to the top of the stairs.
Now I am happily married with five kids and about to celebrate my 25th wedding anniversary, but I may have told Jorgensen that I loved him once or twice as he worked to treat my burning eyes, burning face, burning mouth and running nose.
Oh yeah, in addition to making it hard to tawlk, cementing your eyes shut, pepper spray also makes your nose run like a faucet.
In spite of all this sensory stuff all going on at once, the trainers say I am one of the lucky ones — not only does it take a bit for the pepper spray to kick me in the butt, but it also wore off pretty quickly.
And unlike the protesters in Cleveland where pepper spray may be one of the deterrents used to disperse folks or subdue them, I had a very attentive medic there to treat me. In addition to wet towels, he also had a special “magic” solution to spray on my face to help ease the effects.
In a chaotic scene, Jorgensen said, it may take a great deal of time for medical help to arrive so that’s why it is a good idea to heed the initial warning to clear the area before the pepper spray starts to fly.
Should you find yourself in the line of fire, he suggests moving away from the spray and its residual cloud as quickly as possible. Find a safe place to rinse your face with water. Use towels to dab off the spray and don’t rub your eyes or face.
As soon as possible — believe me, this is easier said then done — try to open your eyes so the spray can work its way out and be exposed to fresh air. Also try to face into the wind as the air will help dissipate the effects of the spray.
Within 15 minutes and countless wet towels and spurts of the magic spray my sight was restored, my runny nose was down to a trickle and my mouth only felt like I had consumed a dozen atomic wings at the local pub.
Jorgensen said it can take some people as long as 45 minutes to recover from a direct hit of pepper spray.
“Some people like you just seem to have a better tolerance,” he said.
Schaefer said the goal of using pepper spray, like that manufactured by Cleveland-based Mace Security and used in Tuesday’s training demonstration, is to motivate a crowd to disperse or offer a nonlethal way to subdue someone.
“Trust me, you will be motivated to move once you are hit,” he said.
Amen. It certainly motivated me to stop flapping my gums.
Craig Webb, who tears up just thinking about this article, can be reached at cwebb@thebeaconjournal.com or 330-996-3547.