Russell Reynolds reflects on his decades behind the badge and in front of an audience

One of Toowoomba most recognisable police officers has retired from the QPS, but his second life will be take centre stage in the Garden City’s comedy scene.

Toowoomba police officer Senior Sergeant Russell Reynolds, standing at the door to the station where his career began, is set to retire, Friday, February 14, 2025. Picture: Kevin Farmer

Russell Reynolds was perhaps one of the most recognisable police officers in Toowoomba.

Perennially pleasant, daily he could be seen walking the beat through the CBD, greeting shoppers and shaking hands.

But after reaching the Queensland Police Service’s mandatory retirement age, the Senior Sergeant has hung up his badge and uniform.

As he entered retirement, Russell sat down with the Chronicle to reflect on his career, the highs and lows, and how theatre saved his sanity.

Russell Reynold (left) on patrols with other officers in Brisbane in the 1990s.

‘Hands in the air’

In the late ‘80s Russell was newly married and newly unemployed – not a great combination in his eyes.

After striking out in the search for a job, he wandered up Neil Street and stopped in at the police station to ask if they needed a cleaner.

Instead of a mop, the sergeant handed Russell a form and said to come back tomorrow to sit the police entrance exam.

“I went home to my wife and said, ‘do you want to go on an adventure?’” he said.

“She replied, ‘oh no, what have you done.’”

Of the 600 people that sat the exam, 200 passed and in August 1988 Russell entered the Police Academy.

Russell Reynolds after he was sworn in as a probationary officer in the Queensland Police Service in 1988.

His first job as a newly sworn officer was to walk the beat in the Brisbane CBD.

It was here that he came face-to-face with the unfiltered kaleidoscope of humanity.

From assisting with a birth in Queen Street mall, cheered on by a vagabond and his imaginary friend, to helping high-rise window washers finish their day’s duties, Russell said every day was different.

Like all things in the ‘80s, personal safety was optional.

“There was an old building in town that housed a bank and a building society and I remember there was an armed hold up, a few weeks after we had been issued our new firearms,” he said.

“My partner and I were on foot in the mall so we belted down to this bank, out came the guns, we burst in the door and yelled, ‘hands in the air.’

“Like a scene out of the Keystone Cops, this paperwork went everywhere and the cashier yelled back, ‘wrong bank.’

“We were literally 20 steps behind the robbers when we went to the wrong bank.

“They disappeared into the crowd and later on the police found some clothing. They were identified through fingerprints and caught, just not by me.”

Russell Reynold at the scene of a medivac after a crash on the Gore Highway.

The ones people look to

The job was not all excitement and over the years Russell worked through countless dark moments.

“You will always remember the first death notice that you have to deliver. It’s a very unfortunate part of the job,” he said.

For Russell it was a baby that had succumbed to Sudden Infant Death Syndrome in a hospital.

“You really get to see humanity, and how people cope with grief,” he said.

“Policing is one of those few professions, and I would count nurses, doctors and paramedics in the same category, where death is always there.

“Whether you like it or not, you have to think about that.

“It could happen to you, it could happen to the person sitting with you in the police car.

Confronting death every time an officer suits up for work provides them with a unique experience that Russell said the public looked to in troubled times.

“I think every cop has their own strategy for dealing with death and because of that, we are the ones that people look to in that same moment,” he said.

“As a police officer, you owe it to that person to be that pillar, to be that rock in that moment.”

Despite the grim reality of the profession, Russell said his service was worthwhile.

“If you’re considering policing, you really need to have a reason that is much bigger than you,” he said.

“There are days when you just don’t want to get out of bed, or you have just dealt with a trauma and another comes along,” he said.

“You really need to be able to do the job on those days and the way you do that is by having a purpose that is bigger than you.

“If not, you will get crushed.”

Russell Reynolds reacts as Spit actor/producer David Wenham waves to Russell's wife at a special Q&A screening of Spit at BCC Cinemas Toowoomba Strand, Tuesday, February 11, 2025. Picture: Kevin Farmer

Stage saves career

Twelve years ago Russell Reynolds was feeling burnt out.

More than 26 year working on the grim coal face of natural disasters, personal violence, suicide and death was draining his mental health.

It was under his wife’s suggestion that sought balance in his life, so he auditioned for Empire Theatre’s production of The Wizard of Oz.

Winning the titular role of the Wizard opened the door to the theatre that saved Russell’s career.

“At about the 20 year mark this was starting to take its toll,” Russell said.

“You really do start to think that everybody in the world is like the people that you deal with daily.

Russell Reynolds will play Sebastian in The Empire Theatre's production of Rodgers and Hammerstein's Tony-award winning musical Cinderella. Picture: (supplied)

“I went out of my way then to go and make sure that my life and my communities were proportional, so that instead of thinking that 100 per cent of the people in the world are like the five per cent that I deal with all the time, I found communities and people around me who were like the 95 per cent of people that are just getting on with life.”

Since the Wizard of Oz production, Russell has performed in dozens of roles, including minor roles Breaker Morant, Pirates of the Caribbean, Sound of Music, Elvis, Kong: Skull Island.

Most recently he played a migration centre guard in Spit, the David Wenham flick film at the Wellcamp Quarantine facility.

Russell Reynold and cast members of Spit at the Wellcamp Quarantine Facility.

With each performance Russell met a new community, expanding his appreciation of the capacity we all have to be different.

“Theatre is one of those things, it’s like laughter, it affects everything,” he said.

“Whether you’re technical crew or when you’re performing, there’s always a place for your skills and for you to be involved in theatre.”

With retirement at his feet, Russell said he would dedicate his time to helping others find their voice.

Russell Reynold on set during the production of Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales.

His plan to start a comedy troupe that will workshop routines over an eight-week period and perform small shows in venues across the city

“I know a lot of people that are funny, and I know a lot of people that think they’re funny,” he said.

“The only way you know you’ll find it is if you do it in front of an audience, but that is the most intimidating thing if you’re emerging.

“At the end of eight weeks, your three minutes is as good as it’s going to get. So what we then have is we’ve got eight people three minutes each.

“So that’s about a 30 minute show.”