In the frosty month of December 2023, a crowd convened in the basement of the St. Sabina Church in Auburn Gresham for a purpose: to relinquish hundreds of firearms. This scene was not unique; the same Catholic parish had witnessed similar turnouts over the past 19 years at different gun buyback events, accumulating over 5,100 guns in exchange for gift cards—a city record. Amid the excitement and disarray characterising the day, a particular incidence stood out. While inspecting the collected weaponry, an officer noticed an irregularity—an admired Glock pistol was nowhere to be found.
Efforts to locate the missing Glock led to the discovery that its identification tag had been surreptitiously transferred to another firearm, its envelope discovered in the trash bin. This perplexing incident took place in a room teeming with police officers delegated to inspect and safeguard the collected guns. Pride wounded, the police force had to accept the reality that someone managed to steal the Glock right under their watch.
Somewhat fortuitously, the misplaced gun surfaced again nearly a year later, following a police chase involving a minor. The 16-year-old, apprehended for fiddling with car doors in the South Shore neighborhood—approximately 5 miles from the original collection point—was found in possession of the missing firearm. The boy’s mother was overcome with disbelief upon discovering that her son’s gun was initially surrendered during a police buyback event.
The aftermath of the stolen gun incident led to a supervisor facing a single-day suspension for his perceived negligence, but all other officers faced no disciplinary action. This case echoes a former similar episode. In a preceding buyback event, a firearm turned in by a Cook County judge went missing. Years later, this firearm was identified at the site of a fatal police-involved shooting in Cicero, a narrative noted in 2017 news.
Following the occurrences of these events, city officials launched an intensive half-decade-long investigation into these peculiar cases. Despite the rigorous efforts, the investigators believed it would be both challenging and improper to question all the officers involved in the buyback events. The consequence—none of the officers were interviewed for the investigation.
These incidents, though sporadic, cast doubt on operational integrity and logistical accountability of Chicago’s gun buybacks, a critical component of the city’s community policing and public outreach initiatives. For close to 20 years, these buybacks have been lauded as a preventive strategy to curb violent crime. Officials assert that buybacks facilitate active citizen engagement and confiscate weapons potentially destined for criminal use.
However, the scheme’s effectiveness has earned skepticism from academic circles. Critics argue that benefits touted by the police department, such as reduction of firearm supply associated with shooting incidents, are marginal at best. The main premise of the buyback programs—that anonymity promotes safer streets by encouraging individuals to surrender their weapons—seems undermined.
This skepticism is partly fueled by a startling statistic: firearms outnumber humans in the United States. As such, the few thousand guns collected during these buybacks could be akin to a droplet in an ocean. Additionally, the collected weapons are often old or dysfunctional—firearms seldom used in gang-related violence.
In the city of Chicago, the firearms collected from these buybacks contribute to the annual gun recovery statistics reported by the police department. This adds an element of perceived effectiveness to the department’s crime prevention narrative. Since 2006, an impressive number of more than 199,000 guns have been catalogued by the department.
Of this impressive total, approximately 35,000 guns, constituting around 18% of the total figure, came from buybacks. However, the impact of this high volume on actual crime rates remains a point of contention among academics and law enforcement officials. The life span of a firearm can far exceed its owner’s; hence, every gun off the street is considered a win by the police department.
Yet, the underlying question remains: are the thousands of firearms recovered through these buybacks just the tip of the iceberg? If so, are buyback programs significantly making a difference in terms of getting firearms used in crimes off the streets or are they collecting less harmful assets? Only deep analysis and time can provide these answers.
The debate continues, yet the goal remains common—to reduce gun violence and safeguard the public. Each collected firearm is a potential threat averted, a life potentially saved. But can this ideal be achieved via gun buyback programs, or should other strategies be explored?
These questions and incidents like the disappearing Glock stir the need for higher accountability and better logistical management. Without these changes, the mishaps may continue to overshadow the initial well-intentioned goal of these programs.
Despite difficulties and skepticism, communities, law enforcement, and city administrators continue to seek ways to reduce firearm possession and, in turn, potentially cut down violent crimes. Whether buyback programs serve as a substantial weapon in this fight is yet to be unequivocally determined.
In the end, though mired by occasional hiccups and heated debates, gun buyback programs, including the one at St. Sabina Church, persist, fueled by the faith and hope that pulling guns off the streets will invariably aid in creating safer communities.