BUTLER INSTITUTE Guardian of art

After careers as a news reporter and police officer, the head of security at the Butler enjoys the more laid-back atmosphere of the museum.
By ASHLEE OWENS
VINDICATOR CORRESPONDENT
Stacey Adger sits behind the counter facing three Panasonic monitors, their large screens displaying the activity of various corridors and galleries of the museum. Her brown hair is short, and she wears no makeup. The only accessory to her uniform of a hunter green blazer and khaki slacks is a bulletproof vest.
"Hey, kid, how are ya?" she calls out to a delivery man, who has been running in and out with boxes all morning.
"Pretty good, girl!" he answers in the same lighthearted, half-joking tone.
Suddenly Adger's eyes focus on one of the 16 frames onscreen. She leans forward, and the smile vanishes from her lips. A museum patron is standing dangerously close to a painting, possibly about to lightly touch its surface, wanting to feel the brushstrokes, tempted by the texture of oil on canvas.
Adger sits bolt upright. "What does she think she's doing?" she mutters incredulously under her breath as she dives for the intercom.
"Please do not touch the exhibits," Adger commands, her voice laced with slight irritation, while looking directly at the woman onscreen. The would-be offender startles away from the painting, instinctively looking around. Her eyes find the camera in the corner of the gallery and she sheepishly waves at its lens.
Was police officer
Adger has served as chief of security for the Butler Institute of American Art since January. She didn't ask for the job, but it was offered to her. And, because a foot injury made it impossible to return to her former job as a police officer for the Youngstown Police Department, Adger accepted.
After some urging, Adger reluctantly tells about her foot injury.
One night while she and another police officer were answering a house call, a car drove by blaring loud music, a violation of a city ordinance. From the porch of the original call, the officers motioned for the driver to pull over. The driver continued to coast on and rounded a corner.
Adger and the other officer hopped into the cruiser to follow the car. When they rounded the bend, Adger saw the passenger coming back to the now-stopped car. Hoping to find what the passenger had dumped, Adger surveyed the area and discovered a 9mm handgun.
While her fellow officer was rendering the gun safe, he detected movement out of the corner of his eye. He flinched and the gun discharged. The stray bullet struck Adger's foot, tearing through tendons, ligaments, bones and muscles. Two operations later, Adger still copes with the pain and nerve damage of that injury.
Gatekeeper
The heavy, gold-barred museum doors open again. In walks a 20-something woman carrying a fast-food box, a large drink balanced on top. Her strides are brisk and confident as she heads straight for the main gallery, showing no signs of stopping.
"Hey, there, miss," Adger says in a loud voice. She stands. Her 5-foot-9-inch frame, self-described as being "of sturdy stock," implicitly dares the young woman to defy her.
A minor face-off ensues. Adger wins, although the young woman works in a dramatic roll of the eyes before leaving her lunch feet from Adger's work area and sulking off.
Adger's eyes never leave the woman as she picks up her two-way radio. She radios a man named Ed and instructs him to check the kids for food ... and, while he's at it, cell phones, which can set off the Butler's alarm system.
Static. "Yep," Ed replies.
Such is a typical workday for Adger, who lists under her job description watching monitors, answering phones and "making sure no one leaves with artwork." She says working in the museum is much more laid-back and relaxed than police work, not so "in-your-face."
Chose 'safer' work
It was that very thought of in-your-face work that caused Adger's family to dissuade her from her lifelong desire to be a police officer.
"When I was in sixth grade, I told my mom I wanted to be a police officer, and she was just like, 'Aagh!'" Adger laughs, while throwing her arms into the air and waving them in mock scared-mother fashion.
So, for the first part of her adult life, Adger found another avenue of work. She attended YSU and majored in speech communications, and for 16 years, distinguished herself at a variety of local radio and television stations as a disc jockey, reporter and news producer.
Her mother approved of this work.
Adger smiles.
"My parents were thinking, 'Oh, she's working at a television station; she's safe.' But what they didn't know was that I was going out on stories where there were shootings; there was one story I went out on where police were still exchanging gunfire; I've gone on bomb calls; I've been on body-found calls. So it was like, 'Why not become a police officer?'"
Nowadays, Adger prefers the excitement the museum offers to the constant adrenaline rushes of her former jobs. She loves the diversity of people she meets at the Butler -- people who have come from as far as China, Zimbabwe, Ireland and England -- loves dealing with the public, lives for seeing a visitor return.
"I'm getting a little more realistic, a little more mature. Reading a Greg Iles [mystery/thriller] book -- that's all the excitement I need," Adger contentedly reflects.
Her radio crackles again. It is Ed. He wants to know if the delivery truck has arrived yet.
"He was already here, Ed," she says, then pauses, adding, "Life is good."