A Tale of Two Security Guards

One is a dead hero, the other is in prison

Security guard Bobby Smallwood was unarmed July 22 when a man with a lengthy criminal record and a gun came to Legacy Good Samaritan Medical Center to settle a score with the mother of his children.

Smallwood intervened, and PoniaX Kane Calles — aka Reginald Kane Jackson —shot and killed him.

While coworkers, the public and media praised Smallwood for his heroic sacrifice, Logan Gimbel was adjusting to life at Snake River Correctional Institution.

Gimbel, employed by Cornerstone Security Group, was working as an armed security guard at Delta Park Center on May 29, 2021 when he shot and killed  Freddy Nelson, Jr., who had been banned from the center on suspicion of dealing drugs.

Nelson’s encounter with Gimbel occurred in the parking lot outside Lowe’s Home Improvement. The Delta Park Center is home to several other stores, plus a DMV office and, most importantly, a BottleDrop Redemption Center — a magnet for drug addicts and dealers. BottleDrops tend to attract a neighborhood of tent campers and RV dwellers. Nelson lived in a nearby trailer.

It was because of problems at the BottleDrop that Gimbel was even working at Delta Park Center. The landlord, TMT Development, hired armed security to deal with unruly BottleDrop patrons hurting other businesses. (A little-known fact to keep in mind: Clare Schmidt, wife of Multnomah County District Attorney Mike Schmidt, is BottleDrop Operations Manager at Oregon Beverage Recycling Cooperative.)

Gimbel’s body worn camera, dash board camera and parking lot security footage captured the shooting of Nelson. However, all of that evidence leaves motivation and intent of both men open to interpretation. Nelson’s wife, Kari Nelson, would later acknowledge that her husband had used meth, but she said it didn’t affect him.

The Nelsons arrived at Lowe’s and backed their pickup truck into a parking space. Gimbel, who was in uniform, recognized Freddy Nelson as someone who had been ordered to stay off Delta Park Center’s premises. The guard drove up in a vehicle marked “security” and parked about six feet away from Nelson’s truck.

As Gimbel approached the driver’s side of the vehicle, Nelson locked his door and rolled up his window. He appeared to arm himself with something. It would later turn out to be his own pepper spray.

“You know you’re not supposed to be here,” Gimbel says.

He asks Nelson if he’s refusing to leave, and he replies “yes.”

Gimbel deploys his pepper spray through the open rear passenger window then moves to the front of the vehicle. Nelson appears to align the wheels of his pickup in the direction of what seems to be Gimbel’s position. He gives Gimbel the finger, and his truck lurches forward and touches the security guard, then stops.

Gimbel moves to the driver’s side, his gun out, and yells, “You already tried to hit me once. … You move again I’ll fire.”

Nelson appears to reverse the truck, but turns the wheels in the direction of Gimbel. The guard fires four rounds through the windshield, killing Nelson as his wife screams.

In the aftermath of the shooting, OPB’s Rebecca Ellis questioned why Nelson’s death had received “no media scrutiny and triggered little public outrage.” She zeroed in on Gimbel’s lack of proper certification.

Gimbel had completed armed security training through the Oregon Department of Public Safety Standards and Training but lacked formal certification as an armed guard, possibly because the paperwork was not correctly filed.

OPB portrayed Freddy Nelson, Jr. as an entrepreneur.

“(H)is family said he made his money as a handyman with a few side hustles to bring in extra cash” — including stopping by the BottleDrop with bags of empties and collecting discarded pallets behind Lowe’s and selling them to companies that wanted the wood.

While Lowe’s employees agreed to the arrangement with Nelson, almost two months before the shooting, he was issued a no-trespassing order by Delta Park Center. In preparing the case against Gimbel, the Multnomah County DA’s Office decided the no-trespass order was “bogus.”

OPB’s story veered off into the “far-right” politics of Gimbel’s employer, Cornerstone Security Group, and allowed Freddy Nelson, Sr. the last word on the death of his son.

“They (security guards) just shouldn’t have guns …,” Nelson Sr. said. “It was a time bomb waiting to happen.”

Multonmah County District Attorney Mike Schmidt’s office asked a county Grand Jury to consider a second-degree murder charge against Gimbel. Schmidt got the indictment he wanted and a conviction. (Did the Grand Jury consider lesser charges, such as negligent homicide? Jury Forewoman Cindy Marker did not respond to inquiries.)

Gimbel, 30, a U.S. Air Force veteran with no criminal history, was sentenced to life in prison on May 23.

Two months later, unarmed security guard Bobby Smallwood, working for Legacy Emanuel Medical Center, encountered a different kind of time bomb — PoniaX Kane Calles, aka Reginald Kane Jackson.

Calles’ criminal history (under both names) includes arrests for attempted murder, robbery, battery, disorderly conduct, vandalism, criminal mischief. The same year he changed his name, he said he had been diagnosed as having bipolar disorder and schizophrenia.

He was not legally allowed to possess a gun but had one anyway. Calles came to the hospital looking for his children’s mother, who had a restraining order against him.

Although Smallwood was not armed, at 6-feet-5 inches tall and 270 pounds, he was presumed to look intimidating. (Gimbel by comparison was 5-feet-10 inches tall and 250 pounds.)

Smallwood stepped in when Calles argued with a nurse. There was a struggle, and Calles shot the guard.

Portland police later tracked Calles to Gresham and killed him.

Hospital employees held protests condemning the lack of security.

“Bobby Smallwood should not have had to give his life,” nurse Bobbi Sue McCollum told KOIN. “We all knew that one metal detector that is sometimes staffed at one entrance isn’t enough.”

Legacy agreed to install metal detectors at all of its hospitals and require a bag search for all patients and visitors. In addition, lead security officers would have tasers, as would all security officers once trained and certified.

Considering that police increasingly are criticized for using tasers, how will tasers add to security at the hospital?

Besides metal detectors and security at all entrances, employees want security guards around-the-clock, restricted access to parking garages and a zero-tolerance policy regarding threatening behavior toward staff or patients.

How to enforce zero-tolerance, though? If a female nurse objects to what she perceives as threatening behavior, will she be called a Karen? Will the media be notified and dutifully respond?

The first time a “person of color” raises their voice and is told to leave the hospital, will there be a lawsuit? Smallwood was white. Calles was black. Had the struggle ended differently, with Smallwood seizing the gun and shooting Calles, would the protests outside the hospital have turned into Black Lives Matter?

The progressive approach to any kind of security issue in Portland is to ask people to behave themselves.

Outside the BottleDrop Redemption Center in the Delta Park Center, there are 14 rules posted under the “Customer Code of Conduct.” Among the violations that could lead to someone being excluded are: Failure to follow BottleDrop staff directions; disturbing others with excessive strong odors, unsanitary personal conditions, or disruptive noises; threatening, intimidating or harassing other customers or staff; offensive or indecent language or exposure of any kind; no littering.

A sign warns: “Violators will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”

Obviously none of those warnings worked, or armed guards would not have been hired.

Among the politicians and advocates who helped stage manage the encounter between Gimbel and Nelson is Jules Bailey of the Oregon Bottle Redemption Cooperative, which runs the BottleDrops.

The shooting gave Bailey an I-told-you-so moment. A year before, Willamette Week ran a story quoting him being critical of using armed guards to handle security at the BottleDrop.

Bailey landed in the bottle redemption business after serving terms as an Oregon state representative and a Multnomah County commissioner. In 2016 he ran for mayor of Portland and lost to Ted Wheeler.

When Bailey went to work for the Oregon Bottle Redemption Cooperative, he reminisced about being a kid and taking cans and bottles to be redeemed and then buying comic books.

The people lined up outside the BottleDrop Centers aren’t buying comic books. They are frequently cast as “impoverished” by the media. It’s a poverty often linked to drugs. Addicts get their cash and buy drugs. Dealers know it’s a convenient market.

What does the Delta Park Center look like today now that a security guard has been convicted of murder?

Earlier this year, Walmart moved out of the center, citing failure to meet financial expectations. There are two vacant restaurants. There continues to be a steady arrival of “canners” — people dragging carts of bottles and cans to the BottleDrop.

On a recent visit, after 6 p.m. when the BottleDrop closed, a few stragglers hung around a couple of beat-up cars that may not have been operable. A large, empty plastic bag blew across the deserted parking lot like a tumbleweed.

As I walked towards Lowe’s, a woman with a grey-and-white pitbull mix on a leash approached me and asked if I was looking for something.

She cautioned me to be careful and noted the purse hanging from my shoulder.

“People get robbed in this lot.”

She looked towards the BottleDrop.

“Men hang out and wait for a chance.”

She owns a couple of restaurants and visits Lowe’s or Cash & Carry in the center almost every day.

“I was driving by after it (the shooting) happened. So many police and so much police tape.”

Her father was in law enforcement in another state.

“You have to know how to de-escalate.”

She lives in one of the newer apartment complexes in North Portland, and security is a problem. There are supposed to be security guards, and there are — but some of them have turned out to have criminal records.

Now businesses are being targeted for even hiring private security.

Kari Nelson, wife of Freddy Nelson, Jr., initially filed a $25 million wrongful death lawsuit against TMT Development. With Gimbel’s conviction, she is now asking for at least $30 million in punitive damages and at least $45 million in non-economic damages for pain and suffering.

OPB’s Rebecca Ellis called Nelson’s death a case study for how powerful business interests were turning to private security.

Well, then, how does OPB handle security? With more than $100 million in the bank and far more influence than Delta Park Center’s owners, who keeps the peace at OPB?

A uniformed security guard stood at the bottom of the steps outside OPB and smiled at me as I walked up to the front doors, which are locked — even during weekday business hours.

“Please use the red button on the intercom to reach the front desk…” says a sign.

An employee leaving the building noticed me reading the sign, asked if I wanted in and held the door open.

Inside, more locked glass doors.

A receptionist came out, and I told her who I was and that I was working on a story about private security.

She reached for a business card on a small table where the receptionist used to sit: Black Wolf Protection Group.

“Since the pandemic” OPB’s receptionist moved farther inside, behind bullet proof glass. The front doors greeting the public were locked.

OPB’s receptionist said she feels safe and has not experienced any problems “but that isn’t to say it hasn’t happened before.”

While the guard I saw out front didn’t appear to be armed, Black Wolf’s website states that it provides unarmed and armed services, including concealed carry. The company’s guiding principle is “Dedication to service — ingrained in us by the military.” The company also notes that it is “minority-owned.”

OPB is located on Southwest Macadam Avenue, across the street from Zupan’s Market, one of the most exclusive grocery stores in Portland. Not a BottleDrop Redemption Center in sight.

Almost a mile north of OPB on Southwest Macadam Avenue is a small market encased in what looks like a jail cell.

That’s how it is when you can’t afford private security.