LITTLE ROCK — Chris Alsbrook is a collector. And a latecomer, at that.
Unlike others’ passions, such as hunting or old cars, that were handed down from generations, Alsbrook came to his love of military history mostly on his own, with maybe a little help from his World War II buff father.
The roughly 4,000-5,000 items he’s plucked from ancient battlefields or movie studio storage houses is a product of a hobby he picked up on his own, something he fell into and won’t leave anytime soon.
Alsbrook, a Little Rock police officer for the past 20 years, concedes that when most see him behind the wheel of his downtown squad car or working a crimescene, they wouldn’t think he was the owner of the shield of Achilles (carried by Brad Pitt in the 2004 film Troy, not the one forged on Mount Olympus by Hephaestus), the sword of Perseus (from Clash of the Titans, circa 2010) or a small armory of ax-heads dating back to the Crusades.
Even among officers who know him, his hobby is an oddity.
“Half of [other officers] think it’s weird,” Alsbrook said. “But some of them think it’s pretty cool.”
Standing over a pool of bloody evidence in the empty lot netted by crime tape on a Nov. 18 homicide on Arch Street, Alsbrook said his passion for classic relics and memorabilia from their more contemporary depictions - one that has gone onto fill four rooms in his house - all started with a couple of arrowheads.
“It was never supposed to turn into this,” Alsbrook said. “Just a few arrowheads ... and then it grew.”
Walking through the officer’s home, it’s easy to see. His sitting room is a shrine to antiquity - or at least, Hollywood’s version of it - its walls lined with suits of armor, shields, swords and banners used in the slew of sword-and-sandal epics that have slashed through theaters in the past ten years.
The collection fills an extra bedroom, including kilts worn in the 1995 saga Braveheart and two suits of armor worn in 2001’s A Knight’s Tale. In the basement there is the armor worn by Russell Crowe in the 2000 film Gladiator and the decoratively adorned samurai battle armor featured in Tom Cruise’s 2003 movie The Last Samurai.
The swords, shields and sets of armor weren’t forged from iron, nor were they created to stalk battlefields. Their job is to suspend disbelief, to play a role, a part, as tools of war.
During his shift, Alsbrook plays the part of a beat cop: taking calls, talking to neighbors and tumbling with bad guys. But, he said, being a police officer doesn’t define him.
Alsbrook joined the department in 1993 and learned how to police the inner city in the midst of a declining gang war. It’s not an easy job, nor is his work easy to walk away from.
“Like the call [on Arch Street] ... You see the brains, theguts, all that stuff; if you took it too seriously, it’ll drive you nuts. You try to come home. Got your kids... whatever. It’s a nice relief,” Alsbrook said.
“My whole job is not my job. The Police Department - I don’t eat, live and breathe this stuff. You’ve got to get away from it. One day I’ll retire. ... And this is what I’ll do when I’m done.”
Officers like Alsbrook, who are exposed to high-stress, often high-trauma situations, are at a greater risk for depression, alcoholism and even suicide, according to research conducted by criminologist and former policeman John Violanti.
Violanti emphasizes that a career in law enforcement needs positive outlets for the health and safety of officers and their families.
Alsbrook said that next to his family, his collection is his biggest outlet, his escape. His pleasure in it is evident when he speaks.
“I love it. The joy is in finding the stuff, it’s the hunt,” he said. “But I never counted on it taking up as much of my time as it does.”
Alsbrook has spent the past eight years “getting in touch with the right people” in Hollywood and London prop-houses, as well as conducting rigorous research and hunting on theInternet.
It began when he got a hold of nine arrowheads, and suddenly, he wanted more.
He found a retired German man, known as “Ed” to his American customers, who, according to Alsbrook, toured Europe with a metal detector, and sold whatever he found.
The hundreds of historical artifacts encased in his basement tell a story, one beginning with the green-patina bronze spear tips of the ancient Greeks, going through the ornate buckles and arrowheads of Roman legionnaires to the rusted-red steel daggers that were ripped from the earth from medieval battlefields.
“These pieces are history and it’s disappearing ... those societies are gone, and I picked those pieces up. It’s odd because most people would have no idea [they made their way to Arkansas],” Alsbrook said. “You feel very small. You better feel small because anything you think we’re doing new, we’re not.”
Alsbrook’s 12-year-old daughter, Amber, doesn’t feel dwarfed, despite the steady invasion of prop-armor and plastic scabbards working their way into the living room.
It’s just what her dad does.
“I think it’s really cool he has all this stuff,” Amber said. “I likethe Centurion stuff, it’s my favorite movie.”
Alsbrook’s collection will come out of its case on occasion. He is a regular at Roman Legion re-enactment events in Arkansas and Texas and is one of 20 members in the Arkansas Legion. His love of collecting is turning into a love of reaching out and finding others like him who spend their days imagining the past rather than obsessing over the future.
“A lot of these [crime suspects]... to them, you’re not a person. You don’t eat. You don’t have a family ... you don’t have a hobby. You’re out to get them,” Alsbrook said. “When I go [to reenactment events], I get to be human. Here [as an officer], I’m always watched.”
In his basement, Alsbrook points out an old but intactcostume used from a Golden Age production of Ivanhoe. Like many items in his collection, it’s just a facade.
“You see? They got lazy there,” Alsbrook said. “They spray-painted some wool to make it look like armor... but it’s not that way.”
Arkansas, Pages 11 on 12/25/2012