Mason City Patrolman Quinn Jones was on duty the last night that  guns were drawn at this location.  

 

The following is his recollection of the incident of several decades ago.  

 

He was on patrol turning south onto Moody Street when he heard the first shot. 

 

“I thought it was my brakes.  I stepped on my brake coming up on the Commercial Bank and it popped real loud, at the same time.  

 

I went around the corner and I had my door open, looking at the back tire, when I heard it again.   I glanced up I saw the flash. And I thought,” Oh shit. It’s not brakes.” 

 

I pulled down and there was a bunch of people running up the sidewalk.  I didn’t know what was going on except somebody was shooting and I didn’t know who. 

 

 I just stopped in the street and got out of my car. I didn’t park it- I left it in the street. 

 

I’m walking down the street with the parked cars all on my right.  The people are all on the sidewalk pointing at this black man who’s running toward me, and they’re all  hollering,  He’s got a gun! He’s got a gun! ”

 

I could see that he didn’t have anything in his hands.  As he ran by me,  I just side stepped him and caught him under the chin with the bend of my arm. He was kind of off balance and there  was a car parked right there,  so I threw him on the trunk.  I had him there, patting him down, trying to find the gun, and I said, “Where’s your gun?” 

    And he said,” I don’t have a gun- they’re shooting at ME!” 

    And I said,” Do what?” 

    And he said,” They’re shooting at me!” 

 

I pulled him up in front of me and said, ” Who’s shooting’ at you?”

 

 Then I saw a  guy standing out there with a deer rifle.  He was all bloody. In the streetlight I didn’t recognize him. 

 

I turned the black guy loose.  He ran off. 

 

I told the man with the rifle to throw his gun down and walk away. He said he wasn’t putting his gun down “ ‘til that other son-of-a-bitch puts his gun down.” And I said,” Drop the gun and back away.” 

     

And he said,” Q.J. I’m not puttin’ my gun down ‘til that other son-of-a-bitch puts his down!” 

 

He called me Q.J., so I figured he knew me.  Then I wasn’t so worried about him shooting me. I kept on walking down the street behind the parked cars and I said, “Who?”

  

 And he pointed over toward the car I was just about to step out from behind and yelled, “ Right there!”

 

 I stopped and stepped up and looked- then I saw him. The guy was kneeling down on the driver’s side reloading his revolver. I ran around and grabbed him and stuck my 45 in his ear and said, “ You move, I’ll kill you.”   

 

I got him handcuffed and leaned over the hood of that car, with my 45 still in his ear. Then I told the guy with the rifle- “Put the gun down! I’ve got him and I’ve got the gun. Put yours down.”

 

He said, “ Okay Q.J.”  

 

And then I recognized him- it was my cousin, Ronnie Zesch.

 

 At some point, I could hear Paul Dale ( Paul Dale Stockbridge, the Chief of Police) and Grote ( Sheriff Don Grote) coming off of the hill.  It seemed like it took a month for them to get to me.

 

What happened, what I recall, it was something about a $20 bet that they could stick a beer bottle to the wall or something. I don’t know who bet. I don’t know which way it went. But they got crossways over a bet. Somebody welched on a bet and wouldn’t pay. That’s what started it all. 

 

There was one of those oversized load crews that had come in. They were drinking and the  transport guy shot inside the building.  I don’t know if Ronnie didn’t pay or what. They got in an argument in there and this guy went out and got the pistol.  He was the one shooting. He was  shooting at Ronnie.

 

Ronnie ran out and got a deer rifle. And that’s when I got there.”