Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...

Friends and family say that Chicago police officer Willie Penn Jr. was the perfect role model for the kids in his South Side neighborhood, a respectable and good-humored young man who emulated his father, a veteran officer.

Those who knew Herbert Chilson describe the Norridge man as an easygoing person, an avid motorcyclist and amateur magician who liked to make people laugh.

Early Saturday, the two men met in a Northwest Side bar, Slates Inc., 7541 W. Irving Park Rd., and got into a heated argument. It moved outside and escalated into violence that left them both dead.

The cause of the argument is in dispute. Police said the argument began when Chilson hurled racial insults at Penn, who was black. But some witnesses at the scene disputed that account, saying they heard no racial slurs.

According to autopsy and police reports, Penn died of several stab wounds to the chest, allegedly inflicted by Chilson, and Chilson died of gunshots allegedly fired by Penn`s partner. Both officers were off-duty. Police have not identified Penn`s partner.

Investigators would not say what the officers had been doing in the hours before they went to the bar. But Police Supt. Matt Rodriguez said Saturday that investigators would review how the two officers had conducted themselves. Investigators said they did not know whether the two had identified themselves as police officers.

”There is some evidence of violation of department regulations,”

Rodriguez said. ”They are police officers all the time. At the same time, we have certain rules and regulations that guide officers.”

Police said Penn, 28, a five-year veteran of the department, and his partner, who is white, arrived at Slates shortly before midnight. The two Gang Crimes officers apparently were looking for some keys that Penn was supposed to pick up there, said Grand Central Area Violent Crimes Detective Noel Caporusso.

Penn and Chilson began arguing almost immediately, and were escorted out by the bar`s bouncer, Caporusso said. Outside, Chilson suddenly pulled a knife from a sheath in his pants leg and stabbed Penn several times, Caporusso said. Chilson, 33, then grabbed Penn`s gun from his holster and pointed it at Penn`s partner, Caporusso said. That officer shot Chilson several times, killing him, he said.

But the bar`s bouncer, Kevin Shallcross, who said he witnessed the argument in the bar, disputed some parts of the police account and insisted

”this was not racial.”

Soon after Penn and his partner entered the bar, Shallcross said, Penn approached Chilson`s brother, Charles Chilson, and a shoving match ensued. Charles Chilson could not be reached for comment Saturday.

”It all just happened so fast,” Shallcross said. ”One minute they were walking in the door, the next there was a fight. A minute could not have gone by before the fight broke out.”

Within seconds, Penn pulled a small can out of his pocket and sprayed Charles Chilson and a few other patrons with Mace, Shallcross said. Police said they were not aware of any use of Mace by Penn. After the scuffle in the bar, Shallcross said, he escorted Penn and Charles Chilson outside. Penn`s partner and Herbert Chilson apparently followed.

Penn was the second police officer killed this year. The first, Grand Crossing District officer Robert Perkins, was shot on March 7 after he had stopped a burglary suspect.

Penn`s mother, Leona Penn, and her husband, Willie Penn Sr., a 30-year veteran of the police department currently assigned to the Austin District, got the news of the shooting in Cleveland, where they were attending a family reunion. The couple has two other daughters, one of whom also is a police officer, assigned to the communications department.

”Before I left Cleveland, my only thing was to come home and tell (my daughter) she had to quit,” said Leona Penn, who spoke Saturday from the family`s home on the South Side. ”But on the way, I realized that everybody has to do what they want to do, and it`s just something I`ll have to go through. Years ago I had to learn not to live in fear for my husband.”

Her son, called ”Billy,” and also ”2” because he was the second Willie Penn, had turned 28 on July 6, she said. He joined the Chicago Police Department in March 1987.

A graduate of De La Salle High School, Penn spent three years at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign studying business and accounting and also belonged to the Air Force Reserves.

”When I think about it, I think my world stopped for a minute,” Leona Penn said, her voice breaking. ”I started feeling a void. I don`t even know if I`m feeling. But I feel empty, because that is my only son.”

Friends and neighbors came and went Saturday to the small brown brick house where the Penn family has lived since 1968, and Penn still had lived with his parents.

Along the block, people gathered on porches and stoops and Penn`s death dominated conversations.

”It`s something you can`t believe,” said Shirley Benifield who lives up the street from the Penns. ”Billy was like a big brother to my kids. And he was so young.”

Similar emotions were expressed by friends of Chilson, some of whom headed to the beige-brick, one-story home in Norridge where Chilson had lived. ”People feel really bad here,” said a man who answered the door.

”Everybody inside is really broken up about what happened.”

One friend, Jimmy Stark, said he was surprised that Chilson, a lithographer by trade, was part of the violence.

”You really gotta rattle his cage,” he said. ”He was really easygoing.”

Another, Tom Tinley, who had known Chilson for two years, said he never saw him angry at anyone.

”He was mild-mannered, really nice,” Tinley said. ”Every time I saw him, he was trying to make people laugh and have fun. He was a magician and was always doing tricks for people. He was the kind of guy who would go out of his way for you.”

Tinley said that Chilson would participate in many community events, including Toys for Tots, an event in which motorcyclists would ride to provide toys for disadvantaged youngsters. Ironically, Chilson also had recently performed a magic show at the Police Department`s Blue Knights club, Stark said.

”He really liked to entertain people,” Tinley said. ”I just can`t believe this happened to him. Him pulling a knife on someone just doesn`t sound like the Herbie I knew.”