The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places...

-Ernest Hemingway

Letters from Alcatraz

Michael Esslinger

Foreword by

Larry Quilligan

Former Alcatraz Correctional Officer

Ocean View Publishing Company

San Francisco, California

Letters from Alcatraz

By Michael Esslinger

Copyright 2009, Revised 2013

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including informational storage or retrieval systems without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

For information contact Ocean View Publishing, P.O. Box 580, Marina CA 93933

E-Mail: coastbooks@aol.com

ISBN: 0-9704614-2-9

ISBN13: 978-0-9704614-2-1

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 2008934941

The principle letters in this collection are held as United States Public Records in the National Archives and Records Administration, United States Library of Congress, and the Bureau of Prisons, Washington D.C. Several letters were also reprinted by permission from the Bob Baker estate, the Alcatraz Alumni Association, Michael Esslinger, and Robert Victor Luke.

Several narrative excerpts contained in Alcatraz - A Brief History and select inmate biographies originally appeared in Alcatraz – A Definitive History of the Penitentiary Years, by Michael Esslinger. Some chapter narratives for Mickey Cohen and James “Whitey” Bulger contain brief excerpts of material created under the Creative Commons License with various author contributions. The original interview material from Bulger and Esslinger are protected under copyright. Formatting of passages and paragraphing changes specific to the Bulger interviews have been made to improve readability.

All original source information is included in Alcatraz – A Definitive History of the Penitentiary Years.

No biographies or narratives within this book have been authorized, endorsed, implied or otherwise by those persons named or associated.

Original Book Design and Composition by John Reinhardt

Original Book Cover Design by Jim Zach

Editor: Ana Brazil

eBook Design: eBook Architects

For Julie

Alcatraz Rules and Regulations for Correspondence

PRIVILEGES: You are entitled to food, clothing, shelter and medical attention. Anything else that you get is a privilege. You earn your privileges by conducting yourself properly. “Good Standing” is a term applied to inmates who have a good conduct record and a good work record and who are not undergoing disciplinary restrictions.

CORRESPONDENCE: Upon entrance to the institution, each inmate will be given a form to fill out, listing the persons with whom he wishes permission to correspond. After approval of the list, inmates may correspond only with the approved correspondents. You will refrain from discussing other inmates or institutional affairs. Violent or abusive letters will not be mailed. Correspondence is limited to two (2) outgoing and seven (7) incoming letters a week. All regular inmate mail will be collected by the evening watch Officer in the cellhouse. Writing materials are issued during the Tuesday P.M. bath line, at the supply table in the clothing room.

SEALED CORRESPONDENCE: As stated in Section 27, sealed correspondence may be addressed to certain Officials. Such letters may be sealed and placed in the special mail box which is located at the West End of the Cellhouse. You are not required to place any identifying information on the envelope and it will be forwarded to the Bureau without inspection.

SPECIAL HOLIDAY MAIL: In addition to your regular mail privileges you will be allowed to send your Mother an extra letter on Mother’s Day. At Christmas time you will be allowed to mail (4) Christmas Cards. You may receive greeting cards only on the following occasions: Christmas, Easter, Father’s Day and your birthday. Inmates will not ask Officers, Officials or civilians to write or post letters for them or receive mail through Officers, Civilians or Officials except when acting in their official capacity.

Contents

FOREWORD by Former Alcatraz Officer Larry Quilligan

PREFACE

ALCATRAZ – THE HISTORY

LETTERS – AN INTRODUCTION TO THIS COLLECTION

LETTERS FROM ALCATRAZ

Larry Quilligan

Ervie Walters

Richard Franseen

Alphonse Capone

Mickey Cohen

James “Whitey” Bulger

George “Machine Gun” Kelly

Roy Gardner

Edward Wutke

Robert Stroud “Birdman of Alcatraz”

Ralph Roe

Rufe Persful

Donnis Willis

James Boarman

Harold Brest

Battle of Alcatraz Letters

Bernard Coy

Marvin Hubbard

Joseph Cretzer

Miran Thompson

Mrs. William Miller

Henri Young

Richard Neumer

Theodore Audett

John & Clarence Anglin

Alvin “Creepy” Karpis

Elliott Michener

Rufus Franklin

Various

Frank Weatherman

EPILOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PHOTO CREDITS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Foreword

Larry L. Quilligan, Correctional Officer,

USP Alcatraz, 1949—1951

A sentence to Alcatraz translated into a life set in slow motion. The life of an inmate on the Rock was shaped by a firm and consistent regimen, which droned on day in, day out, year after year, and decade after decade. Almost completely isolated from current events and the world outside, news seeped into the prison through letters from family members, magazines (with banned topics and articles removed), family visits, or an occasional classic movie. On occasion, a new inmate would bring in news or stories from another prison or the outside, and this news quickly became a central discussion topic for inmates living inside the Alcatraz curtain. All of these served as an inmate’s only link to the fast-paced society that was in constant view just across the San Francisco Bay.

My interest in Alcatraz stretches far into my youth. In February 1940 I made my first contact with the Alcatraz institution. While preparing an assigned high school civics class report, I wrote a letter to its first warden, James A. Johnston, requesting material for use in my presentation. Amazingly, I received a timely letter back from Johnston, but his response brief and non revealing:

February 6, 1940

Dear Sir:

Responsive to yours of February 1, 1940, I am obliged to say that I do not happen to have any printed material regarding the activities of the Island. Not knowing what your particular interest may be, I cannot undertake to write a description of the place or an account of the activities in a brief letter.

Sincerely,

J.A. Johnston

Life inside Alcatraz, as I knew it in later years as a guard, was not glamorous or even remotely entertaining for those serving out their time. During my term, I came face-to-face with many of the more infamous inmates, including Robert Stroud “the Birdman of Alcatraz”, Alvin “Creepy” Karpis, and George “Machine Gun” Kelly. On Alcatraz, without exception, every man was treated equally. Young or old, infamous, famous or unknown, murderer or counterfeiter, an inmate’s conduct was the only compass for the few earned privileges allowed, or alternatively, taken away. Celebrity status or notoriety in the free world had no merit on the Rock.

The officers spent their work hours under the same roof as the inmates, and, in principal, endured the same regimen of the men they supervised. Even for officers, Alcatraz proved it could be a very dangerous place, especially when living and working along men who became desperate to escape. While officers governed the frequent counts and structured movements of the inmates, they also enforced a set of rules and regulations that endured only minor changes over the course of nearly three decades of Alcatraz’s history.

The letters in this collection begin to chip away at the myths surrounding the Rock. They represent life inside and out of Alcatraz, in the words of many of America’s most well known incorrigibles. Most of these letters only represent the inmates’ viewpoint, but they still shed light on the issues that dominated the thoughts and opinions of those who served time both on and off Alcatraz.

For me, it’s been well over fifty years since I patrolled the cellblocks and gun towers of Alcatraz. The sounds and imagery are still crisp in my mind as I think back to those experiences. I remain intrigued about the history and inner workings of Alcatraz, even with my direct link to its past.

As mentioned previously, the letters in this collection primarily make up the experiences of the inmates. There is little doubt that life for these men wasn’t easily spent from inside their five by nine foot cells. And these letters, many presented through a singular lens, often represent the hardship and isolation these inmates endured as part of the Alcatraz regimen.

The late James V. Bennett wrote in a perspicacious and contrasting observation:

“... this was the place where the legend of the big house in the annals of crime would live the longest and die the hardest. Alcatraz was never without a sense of fantasy.”

Those words, especially the operative nouns, legend and fantasy, echo my studied conclusions following a lifetime of interest in USP Alcatraz, and a subsequent lifetime career in prisons, jails, probation, parole, and criminal justice planning.

In the end, the legacy of Alcatraz will endure as a prominent icon of the 20th Century. Through these letters, hopefully, the realities of doing time and the living wages of crime paid by these inmates help bring a heritage of awareness and redemption into focus.

Preface

The inspiration for this book came from a very unexpected source. After an interview, a journalist asked me this question off camera: Were there any stories that I wished I had included in my first book on Alcatraz, but were lost to the editor’s pen?

This one simple question struck a profound chord with me. It resonated for several weeks. During the course of researching and writing my first work, I had come across numerous letters that provided a haunting glimpse of the emotive pain and separation that inmates experienced while incarcerated both on the Rock and other penitentiaries.

And there was one special letter—not written by an inmate, but penned by the widow of one of the officers killed during the Battle of Alcatraz in 1946—that has haunted me ever since reading it. Written only a couple weeks following the tragedy, the letter showed a very brave young woman who was optimistic despite an uncertain future for her and her children. Her letter was a powerful reminder that behind the sensationalized stories and media publicity, the guards were real people who had faithfully served the public, and in doing so, many had made the ultimate sacrifice, for which their families suffered immensely. I was profoundly affected by her letter and always felt that it was important to humanize rather than glamorize the events and history of Alcatraz.

Some of these letters were intended for publication in my first book, but sadly, because the letter topics were fragmented and without much consistency in their themes, the majority wound up on the cutting room floor. There was also a competing space dilemma. The book on the Rock had been renamed “the Brick” since it weighed as much; the size of the book had to be reduced and the letters were cut. Despite this necessary revision, I had long felt that many of these letters could not be simply lost to history.

Throughout its tenure, Alcatraz endured the scarred and horrid status as America’s Devil’s Island. It is the most famous prison in American history. It was designed to break the spirits of America’s most legendary crime moguls. There is no prison with more notoriety. Speculation of human torture and deprivation frequently emerged in newspapers and newsreels during its era of operation. The zenith of this notorious reputation was realized during the famed murder trial of Henri Theodore Young in 1941, where Alcatraz was put on trial for the confinement practices imposed on inmates. The final verdict of involuntary manslaughter—and the strong implications that the conditions of Alcatraz were a contributor to Young’s actions—locked down the Rock’s reputation for life.

In candor, if you exclude the era of the silence rule and the working period of the primitive dungeon cells located in the cellhouse basement, most of the former inmates I interviewed and who have written their own personal autobiographies, describe Alcatraz as being one of the best and cleanest institutions within the federal prison system. The institution was a turning point, rather than a dead end. The industries and work programs offered structure and job skills, both of which were essential to meaningful employment in free society. In fact, numerous Alcatraz alumni integrated back into society assuming very productive roles. While inmates despised the rigid structure and hard stone regulations, several later acknowledged that it helped them adapt when finally released.

Inmate morale at Alcatraz was better than at most other federal institutions. Most agreed that the officers—while not friendly—were generally respectful. If you followed the rules. In addition, the food was better than any other prison (state or federal), and single cells—even though they were small and inherently cold—offered privacy and other advantages not enjoyed at other institutions.

Henry Hawk

As one of numerous examples, former Alcatraz inmate Henry Hawk described Alcatraz to an Associated Press reporter following his release:

“I soon found out Alcatraz is a really swell place. You get good food. You have pleasant work to do. The real difference between it and any another one is that they really keep their eyes on you, and enforce discipline. Escape? No sane man ever thinks about it.”

Frank Sprenz, a skilled pilot and bank robber who had been dubbed the “Flying Bandit” by J. Edgar Hoover, also communicated very similar sentiments:

“Alcatraz wasn’t all hard time and grim faces. There were many humorous happenings to blunt the loneliness and isolation.”

This is not to assert that every inmate released from Alcatraz fared well or did easy time. There was still a notable population of inmates that—once released—walked a quick path back to prison, and in some cases even back to Alcatraz. Theodore Audett stood alone in this class. Once released from prison, he continued his crime parade, which landed him back in federal prison. He served three completely separate terms on Alcatraz under three separate register numbers.

Alcatraz was designed under strict rule concepts and was intended to be a harsh prison. It was one of the toughest prisons in the federal system and it was meant to be uncompromising. It was the pioneer of the super-maximum prison concept; it was engineered to harbor the worst criminal element and to break the most incorrigible, violent, and escape-prone inmates within the federal system. Strict rule and harsh discipline set the tone for those who had reigned in other federal institutions.

However, the torture experienced by inmates was much more psychological than physical. Many of the inmates had reconciled themselves to long sentences and abandoned any hope of being released. The remote and isolated conditions created by the native surroundings of freezing bay waters, provided a natural deterrent for escape. The reputation and lore of Alcatraz in other institutions demanded a yield to defeat. The rigid and relentless prison regulations offered little opportunity for individualism and forced uniformity. Surviving Alcatraz was to walk straight and follow the rules. The ultimate punishment for those who strayed was banishment to a cold and pitch-dark isolation cell with steel floors, where all of the external elements of sound and light were expelled.

As Warden Paul Madigan would later emphasize:

“Alcatraz was established to teach criminally minded men the importance of good character, not necessarily intellect.”

My intrigue with Alcatraz has endured for well over three decades. Following the publication of my first book on Alcatraz, I thought it would satiate my interest and put Alcatraz to rest. I miscalculated, as this couldn’t be farther from the truth. The stories still intrigue me, the history forever fascinates me, and the human drama of living in the extreme still grips me. In the time since the publication of my first work, I’ve returned to Alcatraz numerous times. I’ve spent many of the early morning hours walking the empty and silent cellblocks before the waves of visitors swarm the island; the silence broken only by the occasional screech of a passing seagull or the fog horn of a passing ship. To me, the abandoned prison is still very much alive with history. Within its walls, the voices still remain.

One of the most poignant stories to emerge from the cutting room floor belonged to former Alcatraz inmate Dale Stamphill, my very first formal interview over two decades ago.

Dale Stamphill

Arthur “Doc” Barker

Dale had been shot by prison guards during a thwarted escape attempt with famed inmates Doc Barker, Henri Young, Rufus McCain, and Ty Martin in January 1939. He arrived at Alcatraz in January 1938, following a series of escape attempts at other institutions and a history of kidnapping and robbery. Stamphill would play a key part in their meticulously planned escape attempt, which originated inside what was thought to be one of the most secure areas of the prison (despite not yet having been walled off from other sections of the penitentiary). The cells in the segregation unit (Block D) had escaped the tool-proof bar retrofit initiated during the prison’s formal transfer from the military to the Bureau of Prisons in 1934, and the cells retained the original soft flat-iron bars. Using contraband tools, the inmates were able to break free from their cells with hacksaw blades. They climbed through a barred window of the cellblock using a makeshift bar spreader, and into the freedom of night under a silent sky.

In the dim early hours of their escape, as a heavy fog stood as a dark curtain blackening the vibrant vistas of the San Francisco shoreline, only the sounds of the ocean were audible. Sadly, the escape ended almost as quickly as it began. As the inmates descended into a barren cove to embark on their mile and a quarter swim to shore, search lights and escape sirens assaulted the silence. An alert guard had discovered the men missing from their cells while conducting a routine count.

As prison officers and searchlights converged over the fog-shrouded cove, hazy human figures plunged into the water to a rush of freedom. The dark of the night and the high tide masked the teeth sharp rocks, which demanded slow and careful passage. After a terse and snubbed warning to halt, officers unleashed a raining hail of gunfire, ending their dream of escape. Young and McCain were found stripped of their clothing and shivering violently from the freezing bay waters. Martin was found in the same condition and bleeding from numerous cuts. He pled for leniency.

Stamphill and Barker fared the worst while unsuccessfully attempting to find cover from behind a rock. Stamphill suffered serious injuries to his lower extremities from the explosive bullet wounds delivered by the officers’ rifles. Barker was found with a bullet wound to the head. Both men were so incapacitated that a small boat was launched to recover them from the waters cove. Barker later died from his bullet wound, and in the prison hospital his last words were recorded by Junior Officer George Hoag, saying: “I’m crazy as hell; I should have never tried it.”

The aftermath of the escape left tensions between some of the inmates at a soaring high. Following his release from isolation—a classification imposed as punishment for the escape attempt—Young fatally stabbed McCain inside the prison Industries building on Alcatraz. The murder resulted from what Young testified during his trial as “a conflict that arose from the failed escape.” Some later alleged that the animosity stirred when McCain announced that he didn’t know how to swim once he reached the water’s edge, with Young ultimately blaming McCain for the plot’s failure. Young’s trial would be become one of the most famous events in Alcatraz history.

Stamphill’s wounds were serious, but not fatal. He was hospitalized for a brief period and then placed in isolation until August 1940. He integrated back into the general population and was given a new work assignment. From this day forward, he would walk a straight line and become a model inmate. He remained in the general population for another ten years before being released from Alcatraz. He finished out his prison sentence at Leavenworth.

Stamphill’s escape, however, was not the story that intrigued me most. During my interview, he closed with a profound story of how he escaped mentally from Alcatraz. Before sharing his very personal story, he prepared me by stating that it was “a lot of sappy bullshit” but it was the truth of what he had dreamed about, and how it contributed to his survival during another ten years on the Rock.

As a result of the injuries suffered during his failed escape, Stamphill made frequent follow up visits to the prison hospital situated above the dining room. During one of his appointments, he covertly slipped into his cuffed sleeve and smuggled out a small empty pharmaceutical bottle used to store medications in the prison pharmacy. He began to fill the bottle with strands of his own hair, along with a small torn piece of paper that only included his name. He recalled that the paper had a mild scent of perfume. A fellow inmate had torn a piece of a letter written by his wife, which had made it past the mail censor. It became an emblematic capsule of terms. Using a dense piece of rubber acquired from a friend working in the mat shop, he tightly corked the bottle to assure a permanent seal. In his cell he conducted mini buoyancy tests by floating the bottle in his toilet and submerging it to assess it whether it could withstand a long toss into the bay and still float.

Clark Howard (left), crime novelist and author of Six Against the Rock, with former Alcatraz inmates Willie Radkay (middle) and Dale Stamphill (right) in 1976 at Radkay’s home in Prescott, Kansas.

On what Stamphill described as a “crisp, clear day” during his walk down the path to the prison industries, he pulled the concealed bottle from under his clothing and threw it with the able skill of a major league baseball player, far over the barbed-wire fence and into the bay waters. He confidently, if not proudly, explained that its fall into the water was no less graceful than a bird’s winged landing. He stated that he slowed his walk, and then looked around to affirm the officers didn’t see the toss. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see it bobbing in the far distance and safely clear of the rocky shore. He thought to himself that escape had come at last... On that very evening, he claimed a vivid memory. At lights out in the cellhouse, he commenced the first leg of his long private journey. By closing his eyes and dreaming of the bottle’s voyage, he could see farther than he’d ever seen before.

For the next decade, Stamphill alleged that the sealed bottle had become a symbolic method of escape. He would lie in his cell bunk at night, dreaming of how far the bottle traveled and of what exotic places that part of him had traveled to. He became obsessive about studying world geography and reading travel books from the Alcatraz library. Every night for nearly a decade, his escape successful...

Dale’s story stayed with me for nearly twenty years. It represents the painful and fragile string of choices that landed him and so many other inmates on Alcatraz, and their yearning for freedom. Their letters and general correspondence was an important part of the island’s history and couldn’t be left to fade and disappear into the shadows of time.

There is no better insight to the human condition of the inmates than reading their letters, written in their own words. They represent their authentic thoughts and ideas, with many written from inside their small cold cells at Alcatraz and at other prisons. This book offers a glimpse of that experience. Most of these letters were never intended for a mass audience. Some chronicle their hope for life and yearning to get out of prison. Others still show hope when release is a distant reality. Others communicate frustrations with the harsh prison rule and their demands for better conditions. This was all they possessed on Alcatraz: their thoughts, dreams, and hopes for something to change.

This letter, describing alleged horrific prison conditions, was smuggled off of Alcatraz and to the San Francisco Examiner newspaper.

In an effort to stay true to the historical ingredients of these letters, and after months of self debate, I chose to refrain from any significant editing. The grammatical elements remain mostly as originally written. As a final point to reiterate, it is crucial to recognize that my goal of presenting these letters was to only humanize the experience, and not in any way glamour the crimes of these men. It was important to represent this history in its purest form. I felt it was important to present these letters without additional censoring.

As one example, I personally struggled with the racial comments and the associated content produced in letters by Donnis (Donald) Willis, Ralph Roe, and a few others. I felt the comments and opinions in these letters, regardless of the era from which they were written, contained harsh racial comments that were demeaning and spiteful in nature. However, my role was to maintain the historical integrity of the original content without censoring, due to my personal objections to the material.

After spending hours navigating the personal thoughts and letters of these inmates, one can’t help but feel a sense of sadness through the desperation of some of their writings. Even still, there were victories for some who did their time on Alcatraz, and integrated back into society.

It is here where the past collides with the present and the true essence of Alcatraz comes to life.

Alcatraz Island – The History

“Alcatraz is a necessary part of the government’s campaign against predatory crime. Certain types of prisoners are a constant menace. They create an atmosphere of tension and unrest wherever they are confined. They break-down the morale of the more promising inmates and are constantly plotting violence, riots, or escape.... We are looking forward to great things from Alcatraz.”

- Homer Cummings, United States Attorney General, 1934

Tool steel that no file can scratch. Locks that can be opened electronically and mechanically only by two men at separated posts. Forty veteran guards handpicked from other federal prisons, and armed with automatic pistols, rifles, and machine guns. Tear gas. Electric instruments that reveal the presence of hidden pistols or knives on the persons of prisoners or visitors. Barbed-wire entanglements. One and 1/4 miles of water whose current defies all but the strongest swimmer. Penitentiary and US Coast Guard patrol boats. Prison radios that can summon 200 police cars to the shores of San Francisco in five minutes.

This was how Popular Science Magazine introduced the ultimate escape-proof prison to the intrigued public.

From 1934 through 1963, Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary served as America’s most notorious prison. Shrouded by fog and secrecy, it was designed to house the most legendary crime figures; men who tore at the very fabric of American society. These men had pushed their crimes to the outer limits. Designed as a maximum custody, minimum privilege federal prison, Alcatraz was the defining solution to the lawless reign that gripped America during the Prohibition Era. Its reputation for impregnability and harshness was deliberately encouraged by an American government that was intent on a show of strength to discourage criminal activity.

High profile and powerful crime magnates had presented the government with unique confinement dilemma. Gangsters of the era—like archenemies Al Capone and George “Machine Gun” Kelly—were glamorized by the press. The resulting fame and the elite status given to these inmates ultimately created a surge of followers.

Alcatraz was born from the concept of housing public enemies who had resisted reform while incarcerated, and continued to facilitate corruptive activities from within the federal prison system. These high profile criminals would be housed under a single roof and completely isolated from the public eye.

The Federal Bureau of Prisons (BOP) was established in 1930 by President Herbert Hoover as a branch of the Department of Justice (DOJ). In 1933, when the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) was formed under the leadership of Director J. Edgar Hoover, he moved America to wage a public war against society’s enemies.

In an unpublished commentary entitled The Rock of Remorse, former inmate Roy Gardner—who later committed suicide years after his release—recorded his personal views of life as an inmate during the early years on Alcatraz:

The easiest way to get a clear mental picture of Alcatraz is to imagine a large tomb situated on a small island and inhabited by corpses who still have the ability to walk and talk. In other words, a mausoleum holding the living dead. The phrase “the living dead” is in no way an exaggeration, because 75% of the men incarcerated on Alcatraz are doomed to die there, and they know it.

The prison is similar to many other prisons throughout the county, cellblocks, dining room, workshops & etc, but the management of the prison is surely different. Alcatraz was designed to break “hard guys,” and it is surely accomplishing what it was designed for. The writer of this article was until very recently, an inmate of Alcatraz, and my knowledge first-hand.

The system on Alcatraz changes desperate public enemies into listless, lifeless automans, walking around apparently waiting for death to release them and not caring how soon it comes. The breaking of desperate men on that Rock is all mental. There is no brutality or physical violence practiced or permitted by the prison officials, however, the mental torture is much worse than any physical torture could possibly be. Of course, it is necessary if society is to be protected, to break public enemies such as gangsters and snatchers, and the system on Alcatraz is surely clicking 100%

The daylight hours on Alcatraz are not so bad because the prisoners have something to occupy their minds, but the hours between 5PM and 7AM are the hours that seer mans’ souls and break their spirits.

Seventy-five percent of the prisoners there know they will never again experience the rapture of a woman’s kiss. They will never again shake the hand of a true friend. Never again enjoy an hour of freedom.

During the first year of imprisonment they spend many sleepless hours looking at the ceiling and wondering who is kissing her now. Some of them go raving mad and awaken the entire cellblock with their insane screams. Others suffer in silence, and the only indication of their suffering in their bloodshot eyes in the morning.

Prisoners usually refer to those sleepless nights as “pay nights” and they all know what pay nights are, yet I have never heard a pay night adequately described. It seems there are no words that can actually describe those terrible nights. During many years of imprisonment I have experienced many pay nights, yet I am unable to draw a word picture of those nights. Let’s just call them hell-nights and let it go at that.

Most of the doomed men on Alcatraz will die in bed, while others will die under guns of guards or in the icy waters of the San Francisco Bay. The fact that there is no escape leaves death as the only alternative for most of the inmates. Some of them actually realize that fact and linger on and let nature take its course. Watching those hopeless men walking around and existing from day to day is a pitiful sight.

An indescribable something prevails on Alcatraz that is not felt in any other prison. It seems to be a mixture of hopelessness, hatred, self-pity and cowardice. Most of the long timers lose hope after about a year and begin feeling sorry for themselves. The next step is to become suspicious of his fellow prisoners, and then hatred develops. When he gets to that stage he usually sits off by himself and broods, always blaming others for his troubles. If you remind him that he himself is responsible for his trouble, you are liable to have to fight him, because he is usually ready to back up his arguments with his fists.

Of course the men confined there can expect no sympathy from society because 90% of them are habitual criminals, and probably 50% are murders. That type of criminal has forfeited all claims to consideration by society, and theoretically dug his own grave. He would have been much better off had he committed suicide, and let others dig his grave.

It seems that rules governing Alcatraz were designed to dovetail together and focus on the one object, that object being to break desperate men. The rule forbidding radio and newspapers effectually cuts off the prisoners contact with the outside world. The rules governing correspondence are so strict that no public news of any kind can possibly filter through. An example of that censorship occurred with the dirigible Macon (a military airship) broke up. Although it happened on the Pacific Coast we knew nothing of it for 10 days after.

No guard dares tells an inmate that is published in the newspapers. His job wouldn’t be worth a dime if he did incidentally, guards are watched just as closely as the prisoners, and when any news gets into the prison, every effort is made to find the source, and if the source is found that guard joins the ranks of the unemployed.

Alcatraz is the last stop for big time criminals, and there is no chance to detour past it, once the “G” men get their hands on you. Alcatraz will not stop crime, but it has already put an awful crimp in it. The public enemies of 1932 and 1933 are all buried, some dead, some alive on Alcatraz, but buried just the same. A strange condition now prevails in the underworld; there are none who care to assume leadership, as the suicide title of “public enemy.” Public enemy is just another way to spell Alcatraz, but it means the same thing.

In order to discourage or prevent organized resistance, the prisoners are not permitted to assemble in groups of more than three. When four or five get their heads together, it is a bad sign and they get orders to scatter. The dangerous men are all well known to the guards, and when two of them are seen constantly together, talking in low tones, they are either separated or a special watch is placed on them.

Probably the most effective machines ever installed in any prison are the magnetic searchers now in use on Alcatraz. It is impossible to carry a gun or knife, or any metal object through that frisker without detection, and the prisoners are sent through four times daily. It is impossible for a prisoner to enter or leave the cellblock without passing through the searcher, and if he has a weapon of any kind concealed on his person he is sunk, because that frisker never misses. Alcatraz is rock solid...

The early origins of Alcatraz date back hundreds of years into early California history. It received its name in 1775 when Spanish explorer Juan Manuel de Ayala charted the San Francisco Bay. He named this tiny windswept island La Isla de los Alcatraces, which translated to Isle of the Pelicans. With its swift currents, craggy cliffs, bleak vegetation struggling for survival, and its stark, harsh landscape, the small uninhabited island had little to offer.

Seventy-two years later in 1847, the US Army took notice of Alcatraz Island for its strategic value as a military fortification.

This photograph is from an early Stereograph, and shows Fortress Alcatraz clearly visible in the distance. The photo was taken by Eadweard Muybridge during the Civil War from the army wharf at Point San Jose. The 15-inch cannon balls seen in the foreground each weighed over 400 pounds and were capable of sinking hostile ships at a distance of three miles. Alcatraz was America’s premier harbor defense post and a symbol of military strength during this era.

Alcatraz photographed from San Francisco’s North Point in 1865.

A military defense map from 1863 representing cannon firing ranges. Fortresses located at Alcatraz, Lime, and Fort Point created a triangular defense blueprint. As enemy ships progressed in the San Francisco Bay, they would navigate straight into the firing ranges of these heavily armored fortifications.

Topographical engineers began conducting geological surveys and by 1853, US Army Engineers started constructing a military fortress on the island, along with the Pacific Coast’s first operating lighthouse. Earlier in 1848, the discovery of gold along the American River in California brought shiploads of miners from around the world to the West Coast in search of the precious metal. The once sleepy little village transformed overnight into a thriving harbor, with transcontinental ships pouring in from around the world. Prior to the discovery of gold, the Bay had been used primarily for the transportation of hides and other provisions between the various Missions spread around the Bay. As word spread around the globe of abundant wealth in California, the United States Government invoked security measures to protect its land and mineral resources from seizure by other countries. One early survey report described the San Francisco Bay in the 1850s as a “vast forest of ship masts, waving back the crews who abandoned their vessels in search of Gold.”

After several years of laborious construction and various armament expansions, Alcatraz was established as the United States’ western symbol of military strength. The new military fortress featured long-range iron cannons and four massive, 15-inch Rodman guns, which were capable of sinking mammoth hostile ships three miles away.

As a military fortress, one of Alcatraz’s prime objectives was to protect California’s mineral resources from hostile foreign powers. Heavy armaments of long-, medium-, and short- range cannons were strategically targeted to protect San Francisco from enemy ships entering the Golden Gate. Early fortifications included massive 15-inch Rodman cannons with a barrel weight of nearly 50,000 pounds, and smaller varieties of Howitzer, Columbiad, and Mortar cannons.

The guns of Alcatraz could fire 6,949 pounds of iron shot in a single barrage. Though the fortress would eventually fire only one 400-pound canon round at an unidentified ship—and miss its target—the island lived up to its self-made reputation as an icon of US military power. But within a few decades, the island’s role as a military fortress would start to fade away and its defenses would become obsolete by the standards of more modern weaponry.

Because of its natural isolation, and because it was surrounded by freezing waters and hazardous currents, Alcatraz would soon be considered by the US Army as an ideal location for holding captives.

An early illustration of the original island structures in 1883.

The Alcatraz citadel as it appeared in 1893 following the Civil War. Note the cannon balls used around the perimeter as decorative border pieces. The building was later converted into apartments for married officers until construction on the new cellhouse began in 1909.

A 1902 photograph of the main roadway leading to the citadel. Note the smoothbore Columbiad cannon, which is buried muzzle-first as a road bumper, as referenced in the original caption.

The island began receiving Civil War prisoners in 1861, and in 1898, the Spanish-American War would bring the prison population from a mere 26 to over 450.

Alcatraz Upper Prison, circa 1903.

Prisoner line up and count at the Upper Prison in 1903. Numerous counts were performed daily. Dual lineups—as seen in this photo—were referred to by prisoners and guards as “nuts and butts.” Armed sentries patrolled the perimeter wall and regulated activities within the stockade walls.

The only known surviving photograph of the Upper Prison interior, circa 1902. Clearly visible under close examination are personal photographs and other items in the cells. The Upper Prison faculties could house 307 prisoners.

A panoramic photograph showing the devastating aftermath of the San Francisco Earthquake in 1906 from Russian Hill to Telegraph Hill. Alcatraz is seen in the distance, and suffered only minor damage. Alcatraz received 176 prisoners from various local jails for more secure housing.

Then in 1906, following the catastrophic San Francisco earthquake, hundreds of civilian prisoners were transferred to the island for safe confinement. By 1912, a large cellhouse had been constructed on the island’s central crest, and by the late 1920s, the three-story structure was nearly at full capacity.

The Alcatraz Military Prison cellhouse began construction in 1909 and was completed in late 1911. The new cellhouse opened in February 1912 and at the time of its completion, it was the largest steel reinforced concrete structure in the world.

Alcatraz was the army’s first long-term prison, and it was already beginning to build its reputation as a tough detention facility by exposing inmates to harsh confinement conditions and iron handed discipline. The prisoners were separated into three classes based on their conduct and on the crimes they had committed, and each class held distinct levels of privilege. For example, prisoners in the third class were not allowed to have reading material from the library or visits and letters from relatives, and a strict rule of silence was rigidly enforced at all times for them. Prisoners who violated these rules faced strict disciplinary measures. In addition to losing their earned class rankings, violators were assigned punishments that included, but were not limited to, working on hard labor details, wearing a 12-pound ball and ankle chain, and enduring solitary lockdowns with a severely restricted bread and water diet.

The average age for offending soldiers was 24 years, and most of the prisoners were serving short-term sentences for desertion or lesser crimes.

The original lighthouse built in 1854 used a powerful optical lens to amplify the luminance of a whale oil-burning lamp. It was replaced in 1909 with a modern electric 84-foot concrete tower with adjacent living quarters and was lit with a smaller fourth-order lens.

A cellblock architecture drafting from Lt. Colonel R.B. Turner, Constructing Quartermaster, May, 1908.

An early military map of Alcatraz drafted by the US Army Quartermaster in January 1928. Many of the original structures remained in use during the federal prison years.

However, it wasn’t uncommon to find soldiers serving longer sentences for the more serious crimes of insubordination, assault, larceny, and murder. One interesting element of the military order was that prisoners’ cells were used only for sleeping, unless the inhabitant was in lock down status. All prisoners were prohibited from visiting their cells during the day. Inmates with first or second class rankings were allowed to go anywhere about the prison grounds, except for the guards’ quarters on the upper levels.

Despite the stringent rules and harsh standards for hardened criminals, Alcatraz primarily functioned in a minimum-security capacity. The types of work assignments given to inmates varied depending upon the prisoners, their classification, and how responsible they were. Many inmates worked as general servants who cooked, cleaned, and attended to household chores for island families. In many cases, select prisoners were entrusted to care for the children of staff members. Alcatraz was also home to several Chinese families, who were employed as servants, and made up the largest segment of the island’s civilian population.

The lack of a strict focus on prison security favored the inmates who hoped to make a break to freedom. But in spite of their best efforts, most escapees never made it to the mainland, and usually turned back to be rescued from the freezing waters. Those who were not missed and failed to turn back eventually would tire and drown. While inmates could conceptually escape the watchful eyes of a sentry, scale a fence, or evade gunfire, the strong and rushing tides were constant and unforgiving, even for the most adept and athletic escapees. Although the San Francisco shoreline was only one and a quarter miles south and the Marin shores three miles north of the island, Alcatraz was isolated from both as though it was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The Bay waters were ultimately the foremost deterrent and key to the prison’s historic success.

The public disliked having an army prison as a sterile focal point in the middle of the beautiful San Francisco Bay, so the Military made arrangements to have soil from Angel Island brought over, and it was spread throughout the acreage of Alcatraz. Several prisoners were trained as able gardeners, and they planted numerous varieties of flowers and decorative plants to give the island a more pleasing appearance from the mainland. The California Spring and Wild Flower Association contributed top-grade seeding, ranging from rose bushes to lilies. The island residents enjoyed tending their gardens, and it was said that the landscape work assignments were among those most favored by the prisoners.

Over the decades the prison’s routine became increasingly more relaxed, and recreational activities grew more prevalent. In the late 1920s prisoners were permitted to build a baseball field, and were even allowed to wear their own uniforms. On Friday nights the army hosted “Alcatraz Fights” that featured boxing matches between inmates selected from the Disciplinary Barracks population. These fights were quite popular and often drew visitors from the mainland who had managed to finagle an invitation.

Due to rising operational costs, the Military decided to close the prison in 1934, and ownership shifted to the Department of Justice. Coincidentally, the Great Depression became the root of a severe crime surge during the late 20s and 30s, which ushered in a new era of organized crime. The gangster era was in full swing, and the nation bore witness to horrific violence, brought on by the combined forces of Prohibition and desperate need. The American people watched in fear as influential mobsters and sharply dressed public enemies exerted heavy influence on metropolitan cities and their authorities. Law enforcement agencies were often ill-equipped to deal with the onslaught, and would frequently cower before better-armed gangs in shootouts and public slayings.

A public cry went out to take back America’s heartland, and so the die was cast for the birth of a unique detention facility–one so forbidding that it would eventually be nicknamed Uncle Sam’s Devil’s Island.

A military prison sentry paroling Block A in 1932.

United States Federal Penitentiary, Alcatraz Island.

Alcatraz was the ideal solution. It could serve the dual purpose of incarcerating public enemies while standing as a visible icon, a warning to this new and ruthless brand of criminal. Sanford Bates, the head of the federal prisons, and Attorney General Homer Cummings led the project, and they kept a hand in on the finely detailed design concepts. One of the nation’s foremost security experts, Robert Burge, was commissioned to help design a prison that was escape proof, as well as outwardly forbidding. The original cellblock, built in 1909, would undergo extensive upgrades and renovations.

In April 1934 work was begun to give the military prison a new face and a new identity. The soft squared bars were replaced with modernized tool-proof substitutes. Electricity was routed into each cell, and all of the utility tunnels were cemented to completely remove the possibility that a prisoner could enter or hide in them. Tool-proof iron window coverings would shield all areas that could be accessed by inmates. Special Gun Galleries would transverse the cellblock perimeters, allowing guards to carry weapons while remaining protected behind iron rod barriers.

Alcatraz was designed with some of the most sophisticated security features of its era. Officers could control individual or groups of cells remotely using pull levers located at the end of each cellblock.

View of Broadway from the east gun gallery.

These secure galleries, which were elevated and out of reach of the prisoners, would be the control center for all keys, and would allow the guards the unique ability to oversee all inmate activities.

Special tear gas canisters were permanently installed in the ceiling of the dining room, and they could be remotely activated from both the gun gallery and the outside observation points. Guard towers were strategically positioned around the perimeter, and new technology allowed the use of electromagnetic metal detectors, which were positioned outside of the dining room and on the prison industries access paths. The cellhouse contained a total of nearly 600 cells, with no one cell adjoining any perimeter wall. If an inmate managed to tunnel their way through the cell wall, they would still need to find a way to escape from the cellhouse itself. The inmates would only be assigned to Blocks B, C, and D, since the primary prison population would not exceed 300 inmates. The implementation of these new measures, combined with the natural isolating barrier created by the icy bay waters, meant that the prison was nearly ready to receive the nation’s most incorrigible criminals.

But even during its tenure as a military prison, Alcatraz had carried the reputation as being dark, poorly ventilated, and barbaric. The future warden would later write that Alcatraz was modernized to break this reputation, and would be maintained as such over its history. He wrote:

Standing where we could see the side walls and look down the length of the corridor, I called attention to the forty six windows on one side and fifty two windows on the other side and directing a glance upward to the roof with 372 feet of 4-½ foot-wide skylights. I said, “I remember going over the amount of daylight with our Superintendent of Construction, when we were putting in some new windows, and his measurements showed me that we have about 3,800 square feet of light space in the cellhouse. We have ample cross ventilation as well as motor operated exhaust fans for pulling smoke and bad air out, and we are insistent on cleanliness, so that’s why you don’t get any prison smell such as you say you expected.”

The Bureau of Prisons selected James Aloysius Johnston as the new warden of Alcatraz. Johnston was an ideal choice, with his strict ideals and humanistic approach to reform.

James Aloysius Johnston, a progressive minded reformer, served as Alcatraz warden from 1934 to 1948.

He came to the position with a broad-based background in business, and more than twelve years of experience in the California Department of Corrections. James Johnston had been appointed as the warden of San Quentin Prison in 1913, and had also served a brief appointment at Folsom Prison. He had become well known for the programs he implemented in the interest of prisoner reform. He didn’t believe in chain gangs, but instead, he thought that inmates should report to a job where they were respected and rewarded for their efforts.

Nicknamed the “Golden Rule Warden” at San Quentin, Johnston was praised in newspapers for improvements made to California highways, many of which were graded by prisoners in his road camps. Although inmates were not compensated for their work monetarily, they were rewarded with sentence reductions. Johnston also established several educational programs at San Quentin that proved successful with a good number of inmates. But despite his humane approach to reform, he also carried a reputation as a strict disciplinarian. His rules of conduct were among the most rigid in the correctional system, and harsh punishments were meted out to inmates who defied prison regulations. During his tenure at San Quentin, Johnston oversaw the executions by hanging of several inmates, and he was not unfamiliar with the challenges of managing the most vicious rogues of society.

As warden of Alcatraz, Johnston was given the authority to handpick his correctional officers from the entire federal prison system. Working together with Federal Prisons Director Sanford Bates, the new warden devised new guiding principles under which the prison would operate. To begin with, it was established that prisoners would have to “earn” their transfer to Alcatraz from other prisons, and that no one would be directly sentenced to Alcatraz from the courts. Inmates who sought an attorney to represent them while incarcerated at Alcatraz would have to do so by direct request to the Attorney General. All privileges would be limited, and no single inmate—regardless of his public stature—would be allotted special rights or freedoms.

Visitation rights would have to be earned by the inmates, and no visits would be allowed for the first three months of residence at Alcatraz. All visits would have to be approved directly by the warden, and their number would be limited to only one per month. Inmates would be given restricted access to the Prison Library,

In 1947 the library at Alcatraz contained 9,243 titles of fiction and nonfiction works; the library grew to approximately 12,000 titles by 1962. Titles ranged from travel to technical works and from classics to modern books; the inmates at Alcatraz were typically very well read. The average inmate in the general population would read 75 to 100 books a year, not including periodicals and magazines. Books held in the Alcatraz Library were given a special index number and a mimeographed catalog was distributed to each cell. Inmate numbers were used in lieu of library cards for checkout records. Paperbacks were generally removed from their original binding and bound with new boards. Bibles were the only books that were allowed to remain with inmates in their cell indefinitely. Former inmate Robert Gilford described the process for checking books out of the library: “You had a library card ... full of numbers. And you was supposed to keep 20-numbers on there. The numbers would correspond with the titles of the book [in the catalog] and each day you put your card up there when you go to work and one of the guys that worked in there would come and pick the cards up and then they’d go in there and they’d look and try to get the book, the number one choice. If they couldn’t, they take the number two choice and deliver them to your cell.” Reading materials at Alcatraz were heavily censored, and the subjects of sex, violence, and crime were strictly forbidden. The exception to this rule was war-themed, old western, and some adventure material. War titles spanned from the Civil War through World War II. War titles were believed to inspire patriotism and higher industry production for the military. Adventure books were among the most popular, and sometimes the violent elements were overlooked if administrators and the Chaplain felt that the “good over evil” elements improved morale, or even in some cases created fear of the environmental elements (i.e., sharks) to discourage escapes. The resident Chaplain, who was also responsible for the content of the reading materials, generally supervised the prison library. The prison featured its own bookbindery, and utilized a special catalog system. The library also included a music collection of nearly 1,000 records.

But no newspapers, radios, or other non-approved reading materials were allowed. Receiving and sending mail would be considered a privilege, and all letters—both incoming and outgoing—were to be screened and typewritten after being censored by prison officials. Work was also seen as a privilege and not a right, and consideration for work assignments was based on an inmate’s conduct record.

Each prisoner would be assigned their own cell, and only the basic minimum life necessities would be allotted, such as food, water, clothing, and medical and dental care. The prisoners’ contact with the outside world was completely severed. Convicted spy Morton Sobell would later state that this policy was so rigidly enforced that the inmates were never even allowed to explore the cellhouse. They would be marched from one location to another, always in a unified formation. The prison routine was rigid and unrelenting, day after day, year after year. As quickly as a given privilege could be earned for good behavior, it could be taken away for the slightest infraction of the rules.

Wardens from the various federal penitentiaries were polled, and they were permitted to send their most incorrigible inmates into secure confinement on the Rock.

Alcatraz was designed to lockdown America’s most notorious inmates. The first groups of prisoners were sent via special train cars designed specifically for the transportation of high-risk escape-prone inmates. As the trains traveled across the nation, the public gathered to get a glimpse of the inmates being transferred to America’s Devil Island. Upon their arrival in San Francisco, no security risks were taken and the train cars were loaded onto barges and transported directly to the island.

A group photograph of the Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary personnel, taken on June 4, 1936. Warden James Johnston is seen sitting in the middle. To his left is Deputy Warden C.J. Shuttleworth, and to his right is future Deputy Warden E.J. Miller. Various other prominent officers are pictured who have historical ties to key events. Most notably Royal Cline, second officer on right in back row. Cline was murdered during the May 23, 1938 escape attempt by Rufus Franklin. Captain Henry Weinhold, (seated four down from Johnston on his immediate right) was critically injured when he was shot in cold blood by Joseph Cretzer during the May 1946, Battle of Alcatraz.

The prison population at Alcatraz was thus made up of inmates who had histories of unmanageable behavior or escape attempts, and high-profile inmates who had been receiving special privileges because of their public status and notoriety. In July 1934, there were only 32 military prisoners who had been left to serve out their sentences on Alcatraz. A month later, Alcatraz had begun to receive inmates from USP McNeil Island in Washington (11 inmates), USP Atlanta (53 inmates), and USP Leavenworth in Kansas (102 inmates). Among the first to be sent to Alcatraz were Al Capone, Doc Barker (the last surviving son from the famous Ma Barker Gang), George “Machine Gun” Kelly, Robert “the Birdman of Alcatraz” Stroud, Floyd Hamilton (a gang member and driver for Bonnie and Clyde), and Alvin “Creepy” Karpis. Inmates arriving at Alcatraz were driven in a small transfer van to the top of the hill. They were processed in the basement area, and then provided with all of their basic amenities and allowed a brief shower.

Roy Gardner, wrote about his arrival at Alcatraz and offered personal reflections on the iron rule concept:

When we were all checked in we were marched into the mess hall and Warden Johnston got up and told us plainly what we were up against. “The rules have been laid down by the government in Washington,” he said, “and there will be no deviation. I did not make the rules, but as long as I’m here I will enforce them.” He sat down – and we all knew he meant every word, but we didn’t know, or dream what the words really meant.

A bare idea of what they came to mean to us may be gleaned from a few factors, which add to the fuel of “Hellcatraz”:

1. Lost hope. The backbone of the hardest con melts to jelly under the lash of discipline without hope.

2. The rule of silence/No talking in the cellhouse or in the mess hall; mute men alone with their thoughts.

3. Complete isolation from the outside word. No newspapers, radio or any other means of knowing what’s going on outside.

4. The brand of hatred—a hatred peculiar to one small rock alone—that brews in the minds and hearts of men thus shut up.

5. Over and above all, discipline. Rigid, severe, unrelenting. Rules on Alcatraz, like the bars, are steel. Both are inflexible; nether bends.

When Al Capone arrived on the island, he quickly attempted to flaunt the power he had enjoyed at USP Atlanta. Capone had taken advantage of many of the leniencies allowed in the other prison. In fact, he had constantly solicited guards to work for him, belittling their low wages and attempting to get their help in running his rackets from inside the prison. Capone, however, was unlike most of the other new inmates who had come to Alcatraz with long criminal records, as veterans of the penal system. Capone had only spent a short time in prison, and his stay had generally been much different from that of the other convicts. Capone had enjoyed the ability to control his environment by getting wardens to arrange unlimited visits from family and friends, and he was even believed to have had booze smuggled into his cell, along with special uncensored reading materials.

Warden Johnston had a custom of meeting the new inmates when they first arrived at Alcatraz, and he usually participated in their brief orientation. Johnston wrote in a personal memoir that he had little trouble recognizing Capone as he stood in the lineup. Capone was grinning, and was making quiet smug comments from the side of his mouth to other inmates. When his turn came to approach Warden Johnston, it appeared that he wanted to show off to the others by asking questions on their behalf, affecting a leadership role. Johnston quickly gave him his AZ prison number, and made him get back in line with the other convicts. During Capone’s time at Alcatraz he made several attempts to persuade Johnston into allowing him to have special privileges, but all of his attempts were denied. Johnston maintained that Capone would not be given any special rights, and would have to follow the rules like any other inmate.

Capone eventually conceded defeat, and one day he would comment to Johnston, “It looks like Alcatraz has got me licked.” Capone spent four and a half years on Alcatraz, and during this time he held a variety of jobs. Capone’s term at Alcatraz was not easy time, and he had to cope with his share of trouble as well. For example, he once got into a fight with another inmate in the recreation yard, and was placed in isolation for eight days. Then while Capone was working in the prison basement, an inmate who was standing in line waiting for a haircut exchanged words with him, and then stabbed him with a pair of shears. Capone was admitted to the prison hospital with a minor wound, and was released a few days later. He eventually began showing symptoms of syphilis, a disease he had evidently been carrying for years. In 1938 he was transferred to Terminal Island (Federal Correctional Institution), Los Angeles, California, to serve out the remainder of his sentence.

George “Machine Gun” Kelly was also in the first group of inmates to arrive at Alcatraz in August 1934.

George “Machine Gun” Kelly being escorted under heavy guard to prison. Kelly would arrive with one of the first groups transferred by train to Alcatraz in 1934.

A group of correctional officers standing inside the main entrance to the prison cellhouse.

Kelly’s time on the Rock would be far less eventful than Capone’s, and he was said to have been a model prisoner. Kelly worked in the Industries building, lived on the second tier of Block B, and quietly transferred back to Leavenworth in 1951 after spending seventeen years on the Rock.

Alcatraz would continue to be a magnet for many famous gangsters throughout its tenure as a federal penitentiary. Most men followed the stringent routines with little or no defiance, and their public identity on the outside was completely erased once they arrived on the Rock.

The inmates’ day began when they were woken at 6:30 AM. They were given 25 minutes to tidy their cells and stand to be counted. At 6:55 AM individual tiers of cells would be opened one by one, and the inmates would march in single file into the dining room.

The main cellblock corridor known as “Broadway” photographed in 1934.

A contemporary view of “Broadway.”

Inmates filing into the dining room, termed the “Gas Chamber” by prisoners, circa 1950. Special fixed tear gas canisters were installed throughout the dining area and could be activated remotely in the event of any mass disturbance.

They would be given only twenty minutes to eat, and then would be marched out to line up for their work assignments. The methodical cycle of the prison routine was unforgiving and utterly relentless. It never varied through the years, and was as precise and reliable as clockwork. Monotony was the Alcatraz theme and dominated the life of inmates.

The main corridor of the cellhouse was christened “Broadway” by the inmates, and the cells along this passageway were considered the least desirable in the prison.

A solitary officer supervises prisoners while locked in their cells on Broadway, circa 1940. Officers were not allowed to carry firearms inside the perimeters of the cellhouse. Their only leverage was an officer located inside the gun galleries situated at each end of the cellblock. The gallery officers carried high-powered rifles and were a constant presence while watching over inmates.

Block B as seen from the second tier looking toward the East Gun Gallery.

A contemporary photo looking down the “Broadway” corridor towards “Times Square.”

An officer seen patrolling the Block C corridor, an area known to inmates as “Park Avenue” in March 1956.

Standard Alcatraz 5x9’cell.

The cells on the bottom tier were inherently colder because they stood against the long slick run of cement, and they were also the least private, as inmates, guards, and other prison personnel frequented this corridor. Newer inmates were generally assigned to the second tier of Block B, and were placed in quarantine status for the first three months of their imprisonment on the Rock.

There was a ratio of one guard to every three prisoners on Alcatraz, as compared with other prisons, to which the ratio exceeded one guard to every twelve inmates. With the Gun Galleries at each end of the cellblocks and the frequent inmate counts (twelve official counts per day), the guards were able to keep extremely close track of each and every inmate. Because of the small total number of prisoners at Alcatraz, all of the guards usually knew each inmate by name.

In the early years at Alcatraz, Warden Johnston maintained a grim silence policy that many inmates considered to be their most unbearable punishment. Silence was mandatory in the cellblocks and in general formation. Inmates were permitted to talked quietly only during meals when seated, and at their work post when it didn’t interfere with their assigned tasks. There were reports that several inmates were being driven insane by the severe rule of silence on Alcatraz. One inmate, a former gangster and bank robber named Rufe Persful, went so far as to take a hatchet and chop off the fingers of one of his hands while working in one of the shops. This event was later inaccurately depicted in the movie Escape from Alcatraz starring Clint Eastwood, which chronicled the 1962 escape attempt by Frank Lee Morris and the Anglin Brothers. The silence policy was later relaxed, but this was one of only a few policy changes that occurred over the prison’s history.

The sinister mythology surrounding life on Alcatraz was created primarily out of a lack of reliable information, and because of the negative publicity,

Hollywood was one of the primary architects in helping shape the myths and lore surrounding Alcatraz. The media was strictly isolated from the inner workings of the prison. Hollywood film sets designed during the same era relied mainly on second hand descriptions and early press release photos that offered only limited views of the interior sections. Alcatraz Island was released by Warner Brothers in 1937 and was the first motion picture to spotlight the island on screen, a tradition that would continue into the next century.

Actor John Litel is seen here during the filming of Alcatraz Island on a Hollywood sound stage.

Alcatraz became known to the public as “America’s Devil’s Island.” Warden Johnston had done a good job of keeping the media at a distance and this resulted in the publication of several misleading stories. The fact that inmates were never directly paroled from Alcatraz only added to the mystique. The media had a difficult time finding men who had lived on the inside, because when they were released from Alcatraz, they were sent on to other prisons to finish out their sentences. When the press would talk with former inmates, the ex-prisoners usually depicted horrific scenes about the brutalities they had experienced while incarcerated there. Most of these portrayals were flawed, but the stories of horrid beatings, rigid disciplinary measures, and extreme isolation nevertheless fueled the public’s interest.

Following the famed and controversial Henri Young trial in 1941, although not necessarily to coincide, the Treatment Unit (Block D) underwent a complete renovation. This unit was comprised of 42 cells that provided varying degrees of security and isolation. The most serious offenders of prison rules could be confined to the “strip cell.” This cell was by all accounts the most severe punishment that any prisoner could endure, as it ensured complete sensory deprivation.

Alcatraz Isolation Unit (Block D). This section of the prison consisted of 42 isolations cells, with six, having closed front heavy gauge steel doors to punish hardcore offenders. Inmates held in this section of the prison were confined to their cells 24-hours a day, with a limited weekly visit to the recreation yard and shower (located at the end of the cellblock).

Serious violators of the prison rules were locked in a pitch black strip cell with no clothing or blankets during the day, where they could only sit or lie on the cold steel flooring. There was a hole in the floor for the inmate to relieve himself, and the contents could only be flushed remotely by a guard. The maximum duration permitted for confinement in full darkness was nineteen days. At night, inmates were provided with a mattress and a set of blankets. These were removed immediately at daybreak.

An interior view of one of the six solitary confinement cells with the heavy-gauge steel door in the closed and locked position. The door design allowed for complete sensory deprivation, with no light and only muffled sounds seeping in from outside. The cell was box-steel and the inmates enduring this severe punishment were provided with a blanket only at night.

Ceramic isolation cell located in the prison hospital ward.

The strip cell was a dark steel-encased cell with no toilet or sink. There was only a hole in the floor for the inhabitant to relieve himself; the ability to flush the contents was controlled by a guard. Inmates were placed in the cell without clothing, and were put on severely restricted diets. The cell had a standard set of bars with an expanded opening through which to pass food, and a solid steel outer door that remained closed, leaving the inmate in pitch black darkness. Inmates were usually subjected to this degree of punishment for periods of only one to two days. The cell was cold, and the sleeping mattress was only allowed during the night, and was taken away during the daylight hours. This was considered the most invasive type of punishment for severe violations and misconduct. It was genuinely feared by the general population inmates.

“The Hole” was the nickname given to a similar type of cell that made up the remaining five dual-door cells on the bottom tier.

These cells contained a toilet as well as a low wattage light bulb. Inmates could spend up to nineteen days in this level of isolation, which was also considered to be a severe form of punishment by general population inmates. The mattresses were taken away during the day, and the inmates were left in a state of constant boredom and severe isolation. Officers would sometimes open the small window in the solid steel outer door, to allow in a little light for inmates who were serving their time in solitary peacefully.

The remaining 36 segregation cells were similar in form to the cells of the general prison population, although they were significantly larger. Inmates being held in basic segregation were allowed only one visit to the recreation yard per week. They were allowed two showers. The prisoners spent the remaining time in their cells. Even meals were served in the cells, and the inmates’ only means of psychological escape was through reading. The city views from the upper tiers were also considered by prisoners to be a form of torture, because the sounds and sights of freedom were so near, yet so far.

Members of the press view the Battle of Alcatraz from a barge in May 1946.

A column of smoke billowing from a Block D window. Rocket grenades were launched by the United States Marines to battle the inmates.

During the 29 years of the prison’s operation, there were over fourteen attempted escapes from Alcatraz in which 34 different men risked their lives to flee from the Rock. Almost all of the escapees were either killed or recaptured, but of all the attempts, two were especially significant to the island’s history.

In 1946 an inmate named Bernard Coy managed to fashion a makeshift bar-spreader, and climbed up to break into one of the Gun Galleries. Coy overpowered an unsuspecting guard, took his weapon, and dropped additional firearms down to several waiting accomplices. Led by Coy and fellow inmate Joseph Cretzer, the inmates had devised a plan to blast out of the prison using the stolen firearms, but they were unable to locate the key that would give them access to the prison recreation yard. The desperate convicts eventually took several guards hostage, and proceeded to wage a violent war against Alcatraz.

Thousands of spectators watched from the San Francisco shores while US Marines rushed the island and barraged the cellhouse with mortars and grenades. Inmates inside the cellhouse took refuge behind water-soaked mattresses, and lay helplessly trapped while bullets whizzed around them. When the convicts realized that escape was impossible, Alcatraz inmates Bernard Coy, Joe Cretzer, Marvin Hubbard, Sam Shockley, Miran Thompson, and Clarence Carnes decided to wage a violent battle.

Warden Johnston was unable to get a full assessment of the number of inmates involved, and he believed that there was a potential threat to the city of San Francisco. With the entire prison under siege, Johnston called for aid from the US Navy, Coast Guard, and Marines. Meanwhile, Cretzer became desperate, realizing that the hostages—all of whom were prison correctional officers—would probably credit him with plotting and executing his second escape attempt. Coldly and methodically, he pointed his pistol into the crowded cell where the officers were being held, and opened fire.

The fighting lasted two full days. Finally, with no place left to hide from the ceaseless gunfire, Cretzer, Coy, and Hubbard retreated to a utility corridor for shelter. The rest of the accomplices returned to their cells in the hope that they would not be identified as direct participants in the break attempt. In the final shootout, Cretzer, Coy, and Hubbard were killed in the corridor by bullets and shrapnel.

Officer William Miller died from his injuries, and Officer Harold Stites was shot and killed during an attempt to regain control of the cellhouse. Inmates Thompson and Shockley were later executed together in the gas chamber at San Quentin for their role in the murder of Officer Miller. Clarence Carnes received an additional 99-year sentence.

The most Alcatraz escape famous attempt was carried out by inmates Frank Lee Morris and brothers Clarence and John Anglin. Their escape would trigger one of the most intensive and lengthiest manhunts in United States history. In 1962, a fellow inmate named Allen West helped the trio to devise a clever plan that involved constructing a raft and inflatable life vests to navigate the Bay waters, and creating human decoys to fool the guards during the routine counts. Over the course of a several months, the inmates used special tools stolen from various prison work sites to chip away at the vent covers in their cells. At the same time, they carried on with the creative fabrication of the dummies and decoys.

Four inmates spent several months acquiring materials to make a raft, life jackets, and dummy heads. The heads were positioned in their beds and used as decoys to trick prison guards. After tunneling through concrete and ceiling vents, three of the inmates vanished and were never seen or heard from again. Their whereabouts remain unknown.

The vents were located at the rear of each cell, and were covered with ten by six inch thatch-patterned metal grills. The true ingenuity of the plan lay in the prisoners’ methodical camouflaging of the vent grills to hide the chipped paint and cement from detection, and their creation of lifelike decoys that would deceive the guards up close during inmate counts. The quality of the faked grills and dummies was remarkable. The inmates utilized paint kits and a soap and concrete powder to create the lifelike heads, which were decorated with human hair collected from the barbershop. The preparations took over six months of planning and fabrication.

On the night of June 11th, 1962, immediately following the 9:30 count, Morris and the Anglin brothers scaled the utility shafts to reach the roof. Allen West—whom the FBI would later suspect of masterminding the whole plot—had spent the majority of his time over the past six months in building the decoys, and hadn’t made as much progress as the others in widening the concrete vent opening in his cell. His accomplices had no choice, and left him behind. Once they reached the roof, they climbed through a ventilator duct where they had spread apart the thick metal bars, and made their way to the edge of the roof. After descending utility pipes attached to the cement cellhouse wall, all three of the men scaled a 15-foot fence, and hurried down to the island shore where they inflated their raft and life vests. The inmates ventured out into the freezing San Francisco Bay waters, and were never seen or heard from again. During the morning count in the cellhouse, a guard probed his club into one of the inmates’ cells, and the dummy head rolled off the bed and onto the floor.

Decades later, it is still unknown whether the inmates ever succeeded in making their escape. The story was dramatized in several books and in the famous motion picture Escape from Alcatraz, starring Academy Award® winning actor Clint Eastwood. The FBI actively pursued the case for several years, but never came across any effectual leads. They did, however, make a final determination that the attempt had been unsuccessful.

Perhaps one of the greatest ironies of Alcatraz is that the frigid and treacherous waters of the San Francisco Bay, which had proved to be the ultimate deterrent to escape for nearly three decades, eventually contributed to the downfall of America’s super-prison. Following the escape of Frank Morris and the Anglin Brothers, the prison fell under intense scrutiny due largely to its deteriorating structural condition and the diminishing security measures that had resulted from governmental budget cuts. However, this development should not be credited entirely to the escape, since many of these decisions were already in process before the attempt was made. The corrosive effects of the saltwater, combined with the exorbitant cost of running the prison ($10.10 per prisoner per day, as compared to $3.00 per prisoner per day at USP Atlanta), and the estimated five million dollars that would be required for restoration, provided US Attorney General Robert Kennedy with grounds for closing the prison.

On March 21, 1963, USP Alcatraz closed after 29 years of operation. It had housed some of America’s most legendary crime figures, and in the opinions of many government officials, had accomplished its mission. Robert Stroud, the famed “Birdman of Alcatraz,” would serve seventeen years on Alcatraz, all in an isolation status. George “Machine Gun” Kelly would spend eighteen years on Alcatraz and was considered a model inmate by prison guards. Al Capone would spend over four years on Alcatraz, all under strict confinement conditions with no special privileges. Alvin “Creepy” Karpis would hold the record for time served on Alcatraz. He would serve nearly 26 years on the Rock. His summation of over a quarter century spent on Alcatraz Island was simply stated:

“A quarter of a century in Alcatraz has been an empty, futile experience.”

An Introduction to this Collection

“There is so much suffering here... so much agony.”

- Roy Gardner

For the majority of inmates serving time on Alcatraz, the ability to escape was not dependent upon a clever scheme or a plot to acquire tools and break free from the cellhouse. For most men, “escape” was a movie in the upstairs theatre, a popular book, a recent magazine, or in the later period, a live radio show that allowed them, for one brief moment, to ... forget. Mail from a loved one might have been the most welcome escape available.

The letters in this collection represent a wide spectrum of men and women, and their ideas, anguish, frustrations, disappointments, hopes, and in some cases, victories. Not all letters are from inmates; and not all letters were written on Alcatraz. Many letters were written while inmates were on their way to Alcatraz, released to another prison, or finally free from all prisons. The mark of Alcatraz is what binds these letters and these men in history. The inmates’ rites of passage to freedom or a life condemned was like none other.

This collection does not draw from any specific theme or thread. Some letters may seem trivial, while some contain sharp words that cut at the spaces on the paper they were written. These letters range from seemingly unimportant requests to the administration, to letters reflecting an inmate’s deep feelings of sorrow when contemplating the reality of his situation. Sometimes the letters are profound; sometimes, they display a sense of humor.

Nothing was more important to an inmate on Alcatraz than his mail. In many cases the mood of the inmates changed with the frequency of letters received during mail call. As former Correctional Officer Cliff Fish later commented, “Every inmate knew who was receiving mail and who had been forgotten.”

The mail system on Alcatraz and other federal prisons served as a lifeline to the outside world. Lucky men who received mail enjoyed a brief journey away from Alcatraz, and could forget their plight. Forgotten men, however, suffered agony from the lack of mail. For many inmates, especially during the early federal years, time slowed harshly without the ready access to news about the events and tribulations of home.

An excellent example of how much everyone at Alcatraz depended upon receiving mail was illustrated by Warden Johnston in a letter he reprinted in his personal 1949 memoir. The letter dated February 16, 1946, read in part:

Dear Mother and All:

Your last letter was received about Christmas time and since that time I’ve expected a letter each day as our mail man makes his rounds but so far no letter from home. There is a song around here called, “No letter today” – I expect it may be a good idea for me to begin to learn the words of this song because the mail man always says – no letter today! At any rate I expect you folks will get around to writing soon now. I hope!

Inmates were known at times to share their mail with other inmates who were considered close friends. These letters sometimes communicated very personal and painful issues for inmates. Some letters told of a wife’s decision to divorce and remarry, while other letters communicated the dreaded death of a parent or sibling. Most letters lifted spirits. There was no information considered too trivial to an inmate isolated on Alcatraz. The inmates were eager to read anything anyone had to say and to hear any news from the outside world. This was especially true because many of the inmates were far from home and their families did not have the financial means to visit.

Inmate correspondence was intensely governed, and rules did not allow for inmates to discuss issues or conditions that were shielded by the prison curtain. To minimize censoring, inmates learned to carefully craft their letters. If any letter required censoring, the original letter would be transcribed and surgically edited of any suspect material. Only then was it mailed. The original letter was sealed in the inmate’s file, where it was lost to passing time. As dictated by the regulations, many of these letters never escaped from Alcatraz.

Each letter was written on specially issued Federal Bureau of Prisons stationary, and all envelopes bore the infamous Alcatraz postmark.

All of these letters remind us of the personal struggles of life inside the walls of Alcatraz and the other federal prisons in which the inmates resided.

Alcatraz Officer Larry Quilligan

UNITED STATES PENITENTIARY

ALCATRAZ, CALIFORNIA

December 21, 1948

Mr. Lawrence L. Quilligan

Canton, Ohio

Dear Sir:

You are offered Probational Appointment for the position of Correctional Officer, CPC-7, $3024.96 per annum, and are requested to report for duty not later than 8:00 a.m., January 10, 1949.

Upon reporting for duty you will be given a medical examination by a Federal Medical Officer to conform to the physical requirements for the position as outlined in the Correctional Officer Examination Announcement. YOU MUST PASS THIS EXAMINATION BEFORE YOU CAN BE ENTERED ON DUTY, so you should feel reasonably sure of being able to pass it before accepting this appointment.

The twelve-month period of probation for this position is considered part of the examination. If your services are not satisfactory during this probationary period, you may be separated at any time during the period by a letter notifying you accordingly.

Your appointment will be subject to a check of records and to a CHARACTER INVESTIGATION not being conduction by the Federal Government, and your retention in the Service will depend upon such investigation’s proving satisfactory to the Government.

Please bring with you a photostatic copy of your honorable and data to establish date of birth.

No family quarters are at present available on Alcatraz, but a limited number of single rooms in bachelor quarters are available, together with some dormitory style space for temporary usage.

If entered on duty on January 10th your first pay period would run January 10th to January 22d, 1949, and would actually be paid on February 4, 1949. Thereafter, you would be paid ever other Friday. Upon reporting for duty, board the Alcatraz launch at Dock 4, Fort Mason (foot of Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco). Present this letter to the duty officer on the launch for identification. For boat schedule, telephone Ordway 3-1437 upon you r arrival in San Francisco.

You may accept or reject this offer of appointment by filling in the “Availability Statement” attached and mailing it to this office. It is requested that you reply immediately. Failure to reply to this offer of appointment will result in the removal of your name from the register of eligibles until such time as you request restoration and furnish the information asked for in the “Statement of Availability.”

For your further information, we attaching a mimeographed statement designed to provide the answers to the questions most often asked regarding the position, conditions on Alcatraz, etc.

Sincerely,

E.B. Swope

WARDEN

Work assignment notes from Correctional Officer Don Martin’s personal journal.

A correctional officer standing guard at the road tower.

Ervie Walters, 28-AZ

January 24, 1936

The U.S.A. Attorney General

The Honorable Homer S. Cummings

Dear Sir:

I am one of the original “32” solider prisoners that was turned over to this Federal Institution on June the 19th, 1934, and at that time I couldn’t see why we was being left here for most of us was first time losers, and we understood that this place was to harbor nothing but the toughest kind of convict, which is “true,” that is why I’m writing this letter, asking you to have me transferred, because I don’t belong here, and I know that those of the “32” that are here with me now, are all of the same frame of mind, but I am speaking for myself, for they have the same writing privileges that I have.

My record is “very good,” as I haven’t caused any trouble in the 5 years that I have been confined, and I’m doing my best to keep it that way. Sir, if you think I deserve a transfer and give it to me, I will certainly appreciate it, for I sure want to get away from this place. I thank you.

Respectfully Yours,

Ervie R. Walters

#28

Richard Franseen, 387-AZ

Richard Franseen

Convicted counterfeiter Richard Franseen, AZ-387, (registered under the name of Franzeen) provided a seemingly optimistic insight into his new residence at Alcatraz. Excerpts from this letter were originally printed anonymously in Warden Johnston’s Alcatraz memoir. Franseen would later become close friends with inmate Elliott Michener, who provided updates to Warden Swope on their successful transition to freedom once released from prison.

* * *

Alcatraz, March 19, 1937

Mrs. Roy Conner

Box 123

Cromwell, Minnesota

Dear Tillie:

When you write to me, you will be permitted to write on three sheets of paper; but on only one side. You may, I believe, write as often as you wish. When you mention any person, use the full name, not the nickname or initials. My only correspondence, are to be blood relations, and so I would like to get Oscar Franseen’s address. Without his address I can’t get his name on the mailing list. As yet, I have haven’t been assigned to any work. I have no preference, except that I would like to be placed on one of the jobs on which “industrial good time” is given. This amounts to two days a month, and would cut more than a year from the time I must serve.

This is my fourth day in the institution, and though it is much too soon to make a prediction, I think that I am going to like this place. The living conditions are better here than in any other institution in which I’ve been. The cell house is clean, so clean that the floors reflect light. They are of concrete; literally they are being cleaned continuously that they are polished until they show reflection. The same is true of railings and of everything else.

The food is first-class. Better far than that of Leavenworth. We get variety, usually three or four dishes. For breakfast we get fruit with hotcakes, hot buns, or cereal. For dinner and supper we get meats, greens, salads, cauliflower, creamed cod, as well as ice cream, pie, cake, and puddings. And I’ve only been here four days.

The publicity that this institution has received has been very unfair. The picture portrayed by the papers and by rumor is of an institution run by beetle-browed guards, whose only delight is to drive the prisoners, a broken down group who have given up all hope of ever leaving this prison except in straitjackets or in coffins, with clubs, while backed up by sub-machine guns and tear gas. I’m ashamed that I partially believed such reports.

I have never before seen a group of prisoners that is as neat as this. They are clean shaven. When they come into the dining room, every head has been combed and I believe that every face has been washed. We wear coveralls with six buttons down the front, and as yet I haven’t seen a single button gone or unbuttoned. I’ve seen several of these men in other prisons, and even those that were the crumbiest now looks like a new clothespin. It is true that most of the faces are expressionless, but I’ve only seen them in the dining room, and since a “silent-system” is in effect the men are inclined to be serious.

Another thing of which I approve highly is that the guards and the prisoners are not allowed to fraternize together. This does away with having to meet one another socially even though the two groups can have nothing in common, and does away with a great deal of friction with which most other prisons must contend.

The guards, too, have affected me favorably. I expected to meet a group of martinets that cracked the whip instead of using their brains. So far they have been extremely polite and have used patience and instructions instead of the orders and growls one would expect. They are as neat as a group chosen to represent a State highway patrol, and if there are any of the chauvinists I expected, they must be hidden in the gun towers.

My only disappointments so far, are that I will not be permitted to write to my friends, and that the library here is much inferior to that of Leavenworth. But to compensate, the correspondence courses are superior.

Your loving brother,

/s/ Richard C. Franseen

Reg. No. 387

Alphonse Capone, 85-AZ

“I’m doing very nicely here, no hardships, respect my superiors and do my work, three meals a day, plenty exercise, music and all kinds of magazines...”

-Al Capone in letter to his son, Alcatraz 1938

Al Capone at Alcatraz.

Al Capone’s Warden’s Notebook file card.

Known as America’s “Ace Enemy,” Al Capone is sustained as one of the paramount crime magnates of the 20th Century. As one of the original island cast members, he remains one of the most central and historic figures linked to the history of USP Alcatraz.

Capone arrived at Alcatraz on August 22, 1934 with the first group of federal inmates. He was 35 years old. He had pled guilty to federal tax evasion in 1931, and was sentenced to serve an 11-year term in federal prison. He was transferred to Alcatraz from USP Atlanta where he had leveraged numerous privileges from the administration and had been rumored to govern felonious activities while inside.

In an early, unpublished handwritten manuscript written while still at Alcatraz, famed inmate Roy Gardner wrote about his fellow inmate:

Al Capone looms on the horizon of public interest as the most intriguing of all criminals, and to his intimates, he is quite as mysterious and baffling as he is to the public at large.

He radiates physical energy. He’s six feet of bone and muscle, tips the scales at well over 200 pounds, but contains within itself more of the force of human generosity than has ever been found in any man of his type since Robin Hood. And even in the dusk of the years with its gathering mantel of tradition, Robin Hood appeals less to the imagination and suggests much less of mystery and power than the contemporary figure of Al Capone.

In his appearance Capone somehow suggests all the contradictory tales which pass current as factual records of his activities. His face is swarthy like that of most Italians, but from it there emulates an energy that might have made him a public benefactor instead of public enemy. The only suggestion of criminality lurks in the two livid scars which disfigure the left side of his face. Of those scars he will not speak, and on inquiry of the subject stiffens him up like a cat when a dog appears.

That he is generous by nature is evidenced by his sympathetic brown eyes. With these he looks his interlocutor direct in the eyes with a wealth of human interest and understanding. He is interested in good in all men. This is proven by his many charities, and amplified by the fact that while he was in USP Atlanta he spent his money lavishly; and no one appeals to him in vain. He even helped a couple of prison guards who found themselves in financial difficulties (or thought they were). This of course brought him a legion of sycophantic followers who fawned and praised until it is doubtful if Capone possessed any means of taking a proper measure of himself.

At Alcatraz his money is useless for there is no way that in which he can spend it on anyone, not even on himself. The result is that the energy of the fawners and moochers goes into reverse and expresses itself in petty jealously and hatred. The big shots who formerly respected and courted him because of their fear of the power he wielded or from their desire to share that power now have him severely alone, but keep their distance because they fear his physical strength. Capone has proven himself to be a dangerous antagonist in hand to hand combat, because he is a vicious slugger and he always fights to win. There is none of the compromiser in his makeup, and for his enemy he has neither compassion nor respect. In 1936 a man by the name of Lucas stabbed Capone in the back with a pair of barber scissors. Capone had a banjo in his hands at the time, and what a weapon it proved to be. In less than ten seconds both Lucas and the banjo were total wrecks. From that on, Capone had no more trouble with Lucas because he made it his business to stay out of reach of the Chicago gangster.

Although convicted of income-tax evasion, Capone is in fact serving time for murder. Scandal-mania and police records credit him with having had at least thirty men put “on the spot,” and if that be true, it is no mean accomplishment from the standpoint of human adaptability. For as fiendish as the record seems to be, it is also true that men who commit murders for pay are not easy individuals to handle. They are everything that is repulsive to a normal man, weak sniveling cowards in human form, and the most difficult of all human rates to handle or deal with. Consider then the staggering amount of ability that be necessary to hold in line a dozen or more depraved killers who were living in the shadow of the gallows on account of carrying out the orders of their chief.

Capone denies any and all knowledge of the murders, or the reasons for the commission, but since those deaths all came at a time and under conditions that would serve the cause of his wide spread operations in liquor and gambling, and further because of he is such a commanding figure, it is difficult to regard his protestations of ignorance of the manner and reason for the deaths as justified. But to a man who knows criminals of a type who could be hired to commit murder; it is quite as difficult to conceive of any man possessing sufficient authority to hold mad dogs of that kind in check. Accordingly, whether the murders were committed upon the orders of Capone or not, he is revealed as a master of men. History has recorded the criminal accomplishments of such few men.

One of the funniest things I ever saw was when Capone assumed a condescending attitude toward Warden Johnston. At first, the warden registered amazement, and then developed into a “slow burn” like Edgar Kennedy in moving pictures. Ordinarily, the warden’s voice is soft and pleasant, but when he tried to answer Capone his voice sounded like cackle from a parched throat... Capone’s vanity and arrogance is the principle reason why he is the most hated man on Alcatraz, and his enemies spend much time and thought on planning a “no rap” way to kill him.

Robert Victor Luke

Robert Luke (AZ-1118) who also served time on Alcatraz, offered his views on Capone:

He was certainly treated like any other prisoner on the island. The same set of rules and regulations. He also had cons that he talked to and got along with. But he could not have been treated with the same fear and respect he had when he was a mob boss in Chicago. He was sent to Alcatraz because of his notoriety. And because there were no con bosses in Alcatraz, Capone was treated the same way as any other prisoner. He probably arrived on Alcatraz with an air of superiority, but soon learned that he was just another con. Not only did he realize this from the prison administration, but almost certainly from the other cons. We all learned this fact of prison life quickly or we learned it the hard way. I think Al Capone had to learn this lesson the hard way because some con named Lucas in June of 1936 tried to kill him with half a pair of scissors. All tough guy Capone’s injuries were defensive. The shower room was probably the most dangerous place on Alcatraz. And we were all capable of inflicting all manner of injuries to any other prisoner. And could do this without any warning or remorse.

Alcatraz was a very harsh environment with no soft spots. I had the capability of using my imagination to leave for short periods of time, and I pity the cons who didn’t have that ability. Their existence in any prison was much harder without being able to have some respite. Reading and the ‘recreation’ yard was not enough. A lot of trouble came just from boredom and looking for something different and exciting to do. And that always ended with a short, or long, trip to the hole, the dark hole or segregation. Or all three! This happened to me and Al Capone. And was a fact of life in Alcatraz.

Al Capone’s life experience was as different from mine as night is from day... We were raised in a completely different environment; religion, family ties, early friendships that set our later activities, and our relationship with politicians/law enforcement. Al Capone believed in cooperation with these people for business reasons, whereas my view of that was completely opposite. Absolutely no cooperation! So Al Capone looked at my type of criminal as a ‘cowboy’, who was not under any ones control. ‘Cowboys’ and ‘gangsters’ didn’t mix. So the only thing we had in common was wearing a number on our backs.

Alcatraz completely isolated Capone from public view. Despite some of the depictions made by Gardner and Luke, he was generally considered a model inmate. Capone was said to quickly acclimate to the rules of the Rock, and for a short period even played the tenor banjo in a prison ensemble. His main prison cell (B-181, which was later renumbered to B-206) was located along the stretch of cells known as Michigan Avenue, and was considered a prime stretch of real estate on Alcatraz as it boasted clear northern views of the San Francisco Bay. When he first arrived, he also served time in C-433 (later renumbered to C-200), which was the end cell on the second tier closest to the recreation yard entrance.

As mentioned in Gardner’s writings, the most significant incident with Capone occurred in 1936 when he became the victim of a brutal stabbing attempt by fellow Alcatraz inmate James Lucas. Capone escaped with only minor wounds, but it would spark a series of petitions by his family to have Capone transferred from Alcatraz.

It was on Alcatraz that Capone started to exhibit unusual behaviors that were indicative of a serious neurological condition. Capone was soon diagnosed as suffering from paresis, which had been derived from syphilis. He had deteriorated significantly during his confinement on Alcatraz and in January 1939, he was transferred to Terminal Island (Federal Correctional Institution), Los Angeles, California, to receive definitive medical care.

Capone was released from prison on November 16, 1939, after having served seven years, six months, and fifteen days, and having paid all fines and back taxes. Upon his release he entered a Baltimore hospital for neurological treatment, and then went on to his Florida home, an estate on Palm Island, one of a string of islands in Biscayne Bay, which he had purchased in 1928.

Following his release, he had become mentally incapable of returning to gangland politics. In 1946, his physician and a Baltimore psychiatrist, after examination, both concluded that Al Capone had the mentality of a 12-year old child. Capone resided on Palm Island with his wife and immediate family, in a secluded atmosphere at his estate, until his death due to a stroke and pneumonia on January 25, 1947. He was 48 years of age.

Several letters in this collection were written during his time served at USP Atlanta just prior to his transfer to Alcatraz. Also included is correspondence by his brother Ralph to Warden Johnston, one of many petitions to have Capone transferred to a lower security institution.

The first featured document is a neuropsychiatric examination written while he was imprisoned at USP Atlanta. This document shows the nature of Capone’s family as related directly by Capone himself.

Ralph Capone

United States Public Health Service, United States Penitentiary Atlanta Georgia

May 18, 1932

Neuropsychiatric Examination

Alphonse Capone, 40886

FAMILY HISTORY

Capone photographed with his attorney J. Fritz Gordon (L) and Julio Morales (R), the Mayor of Havana during the Prohibition era.

Capone sitting inside the cabana of his Palm Island, Florida estate (photographed in 1930).

Father: Gabriel, died of heart trouble at the age of 55. Occupation: Barber

Teresa Riola Capone, age 68, living and in good health.

There were seven children in his mother’s family, five boys, two girls. He states that his mother exchanges correspondence with her relatives in Italy, but has no knowledge concerning the status of the family. He states the family history is negative as to insanity, tuberculosis, cancer, suicide, syphilis and consanguinity.

The families, both paternal and maternal, were natives of Italy. He has been informed that they were engaged in the business of buying, selling and exporting olive oil. His father learned the barber profession, became self-supporting and married at a very early age. Following the birth of the first child, he with his wife and child immigrated to this country, entering at New York City. He became engaged in operating a combination poolroom, bowling alley and barbershop, located in Brooklyn, where with the exception of the first child, the other members of the family were born. He was naturalized in living in the state of New York at Brooklyn, when he died. Since the death of his father, his mother and all other members of the family have been living at his home in Chicago.

PERSONAL HISTORY

He is the fourth member of the family of nine. Born at Brooklyn New York, January 18, 1899. Normal birth and childhood. He states that he has no knowledge of having had childhood diseases. Pneumonia at the age of 30. No other adult illnesses. He has three scars on the face, residuals of injuries received in a fight. Scar in the groin, residual of a bullet wound inflicted by an unknown person. No other injuries. Began school at the age of 7, attended regularly and reached six grade at 14. He states that he was interested in school and liked to attend. He took part in all the usual activities at school, and was considered apt by his teachers, and relates of nothing out of the ordinary during childhood. He states that at the age of twelve he obtained work as a pen boy in a bowling alley, working during vacation and after school hours. At the age of fourteen, he was compelled to quit school to assist with the support of his family.

He obtained employment in the production department of the United States Paper Box Company, manufacturers of fancy paper and leather boxes. He states this class of work requires considerable skill and beginners were paid seven dollars a week. He was promoted to a higher position and was receiving twenty-three dollars a week when he resigned after serving seven years with the one company. At the age of 22, he accepted a position as manager of a dance hall in New York City. Six months later he resigned to accept a similar position at Chicago. Here he became engaged in various business enterprises, including real estate, newspapers, hotels, garages, and security. He states that he is accumulated considerable money, and claims Chicago as his residence. He states that he ran away and married at the age of 17, his boyhood sweetheart. They had attended school together, and were working at the same factory when married. His wife was Mae Coughlin and 16 of age when they married. There is one child, no miscarriages. Both wife and child are in good health and living at their home at Chicago. He contracted gonorrhea the age of 24; treated and cured by physician. In 1931 his blood wasserman showed positive for which he was given several intramuscular, anti-luetic injections. He denies the use of drugs, admits the use of beer and wine. No military record. No compensation.

CRIMINAL HISTORY

He states his arrest have been too numerous to mention, using as a criterion the fact that he was arrested at different times in twenty-four hours at Miami Florida. 1929 - Arrested in Philadelphia, PA., by city police and charged with possession of a revolver. Pled guilty. Sentenced to serve one year in jail. 1931 - Arrested in Chicago by federal officers, charged with having violated the income tax law. Pled not guilty. Sentenced to serve ten years in this institution.

MENTAL EXAMINATION

This is a large, well-developed, white man, 33-years of age. He enters the examining room promptly, answers questions freely, relevantly and coherently. He is courteous, cooperative and correctly oriented in all spheres. He states that at present he is serving a sentence of ten years in this institution, charged with having violated the federal income tax law. He states that he does not know wherein he has violated this law, as no income was proved in his case, though the fact that he had spent fairly large sums of money was brought out as evidence of his having had income. Prior to his indictment he states that he had gone to the officers of the internal revenue department and had asked them to submit figures to him, showing the amount of income tax he should have paid, and at that time he would be glad to make any satisfactory adjustment of monies due. He says that at that time he was told that the amount due would be somewhere between thirty and $50,000, but after he had advised that he would pay the amount would deftly stated, no further communication was had with him until he was indicted. He states that after having been indicted, he agreed to plead guilty and thereby saving the government about one half million dollars court costs, provided he would receive of not more than two and a half years. He states that such an agreement was made by the Attorney General Mr. Balentine, representative of the Secretary of Treasury, by the District Attorney and by the judge. It was on this account and with this understanding that he pled guilty, expecting to receive the two and a half year sentence immediately, and probably then he permitted to spend thirty days in Chicago to straighten out his financial affairs. Upon his plea of guilty he states that he was told to return to the court in thirty days and received his sentence. Upon his return he was and buys that the only condition under which his plea of guilty would be accepted would be unconditional, or without any obligation on the part of the judge. Capone states that in as much as there was a possibility of receiving seventy-seven years on the indictment and charges as preferred, he withdrew his plea of guilty and entered a plea of not guilty, whereupon he stood trial.

He emphasizes the fact that in as much as he had previously pled guilty to the same charges, and now is standing trial for them, he had greatly weakened his case, so that there was no possibility of any verdict other than guilty to be returned by the jurors.

At the present time this man is quite bitter toward the officials whom he feels double-crossed him, or would not live up to the agreement that they had made, and by which they induced him to plead guilty in the present case. His attitude towards his present environment, however, is quite favorable. He is interested in his surroundings and appears to be interested in carrying out the conditions imposed by the prison rules. He states that he is at present assigned to work in the shoe shop, where he gets along very well but finds the work not at all interesting, and in as much as the periods during which these men are permitted to go out on the recreation field is quite short, he stating that it is from 3:30 - 3:55 PM daily, and for about a quarter hour each Monday and Wednesday evening, during the summer months, he does not get enough physical exercise nor enough recreation outdoors.

Capone states that he is very interested in athletics and likes to take an active part in such sports as baseball. It is on this account that he is anxious to be assigned to work on the athletic field or on the athletic detail. He is looking forward to the possibility of being permitted to sponsor some professional fights for the entertainment of the prison body.

During the interview this man exhibits no mannerisms. No evidence of hallucinations or delusions can be elicited. The stock of general information and school knowledge is in keeping with his educational advantages and experience. His insight is good. He states that he is been dealt with unjustly, especially by the press, and that numerous crimes, for which he had no knowledge and in which he was in no way implicated, related his door merely to increase the circulation of the papers and to add interest to the story. He states that this having been done has caused him to be looked upon as a much more lawless individual that actually is. He readily admits, however, having violated the national Prohibition act, and in fact states that practically all of his money has come from the source and from gambling. He uses as an argument in defense of himself as regards the income tax violation, the statement that/he filed income tax returns and shown the source of his revenue, the government, by accepting part of it as a tax, would have been party to the offenses of which he was guilty. During the interview very little information other than that brought out could be elicited. On several occasions he stated that he could not give this information, or he wished to have the information given kept as confidential. His judgment as evidenced by his behavior during the interview is shown to be good.

* * *

Theresa Capone photographed in the yard of the Prairie Avenue property in Chicago.

May 6, 1932

Theresa Capone

7244 Prairie Ave.,

Chicago, Illinois

Mother’s Day Greetings to a dear mother. You’re everybody’s mother you can help and cheer. You’re always spreading sunshine to everybody near. You mother people’s troubles. You smile the clouds away. You always know just what to do and sweetest things to say.

God bless you mama,

Alphonse Capone

#40886

* * *

December 24, 1932

Mrs. Theresa Capone

7244 Prairie Ave.

Chicago, Ill.

Dear Mother,

Well Ma how are you and the family. Am wishing all of you at home a Merry Christmas. Also Joe, Ralphie and Delores and Mafalda a real nice big Christmas kiss for me. Am in hope of seeing you real soon and will give you yours’. Don’t worry try and be merry and may God Bless all of you. Love and kisses to you the sweetest little mother in the world.

Alphonse Capone

Number 40886

* * *

May 13, 1933

Mrs. Theresa Capone

7244 Prairie Ave.

Chicago, Ill.

Dear Mother,

It’s just a simple little word. But it seems the world to me. For it means the best and noblest word that anyone can be. I know that God made that little word to stand for all that’s true. I know he called mother because he named after you. All that I am, all that I hope to be, I owe all to you.

Dear Mother with the passing of years the realization of my debt of gratitude grows more profound and my love ever deeper and stronger. May God Bless you and love to all.

Your Dear Son,

Al

* * *

Mrs. May Capone Atlanta, GA May 13, 1933

Address: 7244 Prairie Ave.

Chicago

Dear Wife

We have set apart a Mother’s day from all the days in the year. And I want to bring my tribute to somebody precious and dear. I want to wish all gladness and happiness to the sweetest woman – my wife.

For you are part of Mother’s day. And the greatest part of my life. All that I am, all that I hope to be I owe to you dear wife. With passing years the realization of my debt of gratitude grows more profound, and my love ever deeper and stronger for you, and may God Bless you and love to all.

Your dear husband

Al

Alphonse Capone

Number 40886

* * *

Atlanta, Georgia

Dear Sir:

I respectfully appeal to you for a construction of “Bulletin No. 24” as it will apply to me, or rather to the visits of my Mother, Wife, Son, and the rest of my family. Since my incarceration here it has been the custom of my family to visit me each month, and until this new rule has been applied, I have had the pleasure of having three visits a month, to run consecutively for three days, at one hour each day. Such visit’s has been the privilege I have valued highest of all, for I know such visit’s short as they may have been, always have been a world full of joy and happiness for my family and myself.

But if I correctly interpret the import of Bulletin 24, starting this month our visit’s are to be shortened to one visit a month, and for one, and one day, regardless how far the visitor must travel to visit the prisoner relative, that kind Sir, is the point I am appealing to you for information upon. In order to visit me my family must travel approximately two thousand miles, that is the trip both way’s, will that distance Sir, entitle them to at least see two days in a row, for one hour each day, Mr. Warden if you can see your way clear to allow me that privilege. I am sure that you will be doing something that will be more than appreciated, and I know it will sure make my family and myself happy and contented.

Now Sir, if you can’t possibly allow me this privilege, then maybe you will possibly consider this other favor for me, will you allow me, that is if you can’t do the above for us, allow me to have my same three visit’s on the 24, 25, 26th of this month, to run consecutively, and at the same time as always, that is one hour each day, and then I will arrange with my family not to come down until after three months are over, now Sir, the reason I ask this favor, is the fact of the long trip, it is rather expensive, and if you will kindly give me the power of it being done this way, I am sure that we will more than appreciate it, sure hope you will consider this condition, for the sake of my family, as it sure mean’s plenty to able to see them for a few hours a month, thanking you in advance, and sure hope and pray that you will consider this favorably.

Mr. Warden, I am sorry to take so much of your time, but I would like to again have the pleasure, of again reminding you, if you can possibly give me a chance or some other detail, as I know have been here over two years, and I am sure that my work has been satisfactory, and intend to keep it so as long as I am here, I request Sir, if you will consider me, for work either at the Baker Shop or at the Tennis court as a helper, as I am familiar with both details, and the main reason Sir, is the fact that they are both too good details where I can get plenty of exercise, and sunshine and fresh air, as I have a terrible case of nose trouble, and have been operated on twice, and Dr. Ossenfort, can also verify my condition, and as long as I can get some air and sun, and exercise, I will sure be grateful to you, and sure will do my utmost to prove the privilege will be respected.

In regards to my job at the Shoe Shop, I have been running the “Sticher” for my whole period that I have been here, and understand my job 100%, and have broken in a new man who understands running the machine very well, but if Sir, will grant me chance to change my detail, I will be more than glad to fix the machine on my stopade time, or any other time I am needed, and be glad to help at all times, sure hope you will consider me, and give me a chance to advance myself, and also improve my health, thanking you again, and sure hope you will give me a chance to prove myself.

Respectfully yours,

/s/ Alphonse Capone 40886

* * *

Capone’s transfer order to the United States Penitentiary Alcatraz.

A photo of the prison train that carried Capone from Atlanta to the front doorstep of Alcatraz. The inmates are shown being unloaded and lined-up to make their march up to the cellhouse. This photo was taken by a family member of an Alcatraz guard. The six-car train with barred windows was dubbed the “Forty Thieves Special” as it rolled across the United States with forty notorious passengers. The trip took three and a half days from Atlanta to San Francisco.

As part of one of the first groups of inmates to arrive on Alcatraz, Capone would be subject to some of the most strict and harshest conditions during its history. He would hold two job assignments; one as the yard sweep in the Alcatraz Recreation Yard, and later in the Clothing Issue located inside the Shower Room. While working in the yard, he had a front row view of the Golden Gate Bridge during its construction and opening in May of 1937, as well as watching planes fly overhead during the pioneering era of aviation.

7244 Prairie Avenue

Chicago, Illinois

December 3, 1934

Hon. Homer Cummings

Attorney-General United States

Washington, D.C.

Honorable Sir:

During all of the time my son, Alphonse Capone, was incarcerated in the Federal Prison at Atlanta, his wife and myself were permitted to visit him in compliance with the rules of that prison.

We desire to visit him at the prison at which he is now confined, namely, the Alcatraz, located in the Pacific Ocean. We understand the rules of that prison in respect to visitors are such to make it impossible to meet under the same conditions which existed at Atlanta, Ga.

We respectfully request you exert your influence to enable us to visit this prisoner as formerly, and to be accorded the same privileges as existed at that time. We trust that we are not, in this request, seeking a special and forbidden privilege, and relay upon your sense of fairness and humanity to enable us to secure this privilege.

I remain,

Respectfully yours,

Theresa Capone

* * *

February 25, 1935

Warden

U.S. Penitentiary

Alcatraz Island, California

Dear Sir:

We have just received a memorandum from the division of investigation dated February 20, 1935, reading as follows:

Kindly be informed that Mr. Claude E. Sorensen, a guard at Alcatraz Island, recently conferred with the Special Agent in charge of this Division at San Francisco, California, and furnished the following information concerning Al Capone, who at the present time is incarcerated in that institution.

He stated that his duties brought him into contact with our Capone considerably and that recently he has noticed the Capone has been endeavoring to be exceptionally friendly to him; that he had made many friendly overtures, and on one occasion how Capone suggested that he would subscribe to several magazines to be sent to Mr. Sorenson; that he, Mr. Sorenson, advise the agent in charge that he believes these friendly advances on the part of Capone were intended to lay the groundwork for future requests. It was ascertained by the agent in charge that Mr. Sorenson had not submitted this information either to the Warden project the Warden, and I thought the same should, therefore, be called your attention.

It seems strange that an employee of your institution would divulge any information of this character, and we are asking that you make an immediate investigation and report the facts to us, with such further recommendation as you may care to make.

Yours very truly,

W. T. Hammack

Assistant Director

* * *

United States Bureau of Investigation

Date: February 27, 1935

Report made at San Francisco, California

File Number: 62-138

SYNOPSIS OF FACTS:

J.W. Watts

J.W. Watts, inmate Alcatraz federal penitentiary, furnished information certain convicts in connivance with certain guards at Atlanta federal penitentiary “strong-armed” subject Capone on a number of occasions and extorted large sums of money from Capone; that guards Sparling, Chadner, and Coleman brought into the penitentiary narcotics; that the guards or civilian employees would take out messages for convicts, if paid. Heard rumors only that Dr. Beall was presented with pony by subject Capone.

REFERENCE

Report by Special Agent Walter A. Scott Jr., dated December 3, 1934, at San Francisco California.

DETAILS

J.W. Watts, inmate Alcatraz federal penitentiary, furnished the following information in strictest confidence and under no circumstances which is his name revealed, and is under the impression that his life would be taken if he became known as a “squealer.” J.W. Watts stated that he was committed to Atlanta federal penitentiary December 15, 1929, to serve twenty-five years for mail robbery and was removed Alcatraz federal penitentiary in August, 1934; that while in Atlanta federal penitentiary he worked as a clerk in the duck mill; that Alphonse Capone was a fellow convict at Atlanta; that on a number of occasions money was obtained from Al Capone through extortion and threats of death and bodily harm while at Atlanta federal penitentiary by certain convicts with the cooperation in connivance of certain guards, named Guard Sparling, nicknamed “Shell Shock,” now a tenant of guards at Alcatraz penitentiary; Guard Coleman and Guard Chadner, both of whom are, as far as he knows, still at Atlanta penitentiary, and probably other guards; that he knows of two or three occasions on which subject Capone was “strong-armed” by convicts Coggins “Bamma” (true name not known), “Tennessee” (true name not known), and Sheehan, the point of a knife struck on the throat of Capone, and he was made to promise to produce a specified sum of money - $1,800 at one time; that guards Sparling and Coleman received a part of this money; that other convicts who were beneficiaries of the extortion obtained from subject Capone were Doc Lancaster, J.M. McGinnis, and “Grip,” a convict from Los Angeles (last name unknown), and H. Montgomery (AZ-67), now an inmate of Alcatraz penitentiary.

Harold Montgomery

Watts stated that convict Montgomery had established a contact at a small hotel in Atlanta, Georgia, name of which sounds like “Piedmont” but he is not sure of the correctness of name; that the money extorted from subject Capone was brought to the set hotel and called for by Guards Sparling, Coleman or Chadner; that Coleman with part of the money extorted from Capone would buy a morphine and bring it into the penitentiary and deliver same to convict Montgomery who sold the dope to other convicts; that he (Watts) on two occasions saw Guard Coleman deliver morphine to convict Montgomery. J.W. Watts further stated that in cooperation of his statements in regard to Guards Coleman and Chadner, the government should be able to readily verify same from an ex convict, one Johnny Spizzato, who was a name cellmate of his (Watts) at Atlanta federal penitentiary and who on his release from Atlanta penitentiary went to Albany, New York, and made several shipments of narcotics through an underworld contact to Guards Coleman and Chadner, which shipments of narcotics were eventually brought into the penitentiary at Atlanta; that convict Montgomery used his sister, are believed to live in Albany, New York, to make outside underworld contacts and to whom convict Montgomery furnishes money.

J.W. Watts also further stated that there was a rumor at Atlanta penitentiary that subject Capone gave Doctor Beall a Shetland pony but has no direct information concerning same. He also further stated that the guard or civilian employee at Atlanta penitentiary who would not take out letters, messages or money to be forwarded to connections, relatives or friends of the convicts was the exception and for which he would charge “plenty”; that in case of money being surreptitiously sent out by convicts, a man by the name of Butler and a foreman or guard in charge of the tailor shop in Atlanta, a man about forty years of age, height 5’8”, weight about 180 pounds, slightly gray hair, we charge 30% of the amount taken out as a commission; that guards Coleman, Chadner and Sparling and other guards and foreman took a commission 50% of the money taken out.

The Alcatraz federal penitentiary records show Harold Montgomery, convict, is serving a twenty-five year sentence for assault and robbery of the United States mail; that he was received at Atlanta on April 25, 1936, and was removed Alcatraz where he was received on August 22, 1934 that his age is given as thirty-three years.

REFERRED UPON COMPLETION UPON TO UPON OFFICE OF ORIGIN

* * *

Capone’s library report showed that he was a prolific reader and enjoyed a variety of subjects. Peter Fleming’s Brazilian Adventures was a favorite of Capone’s as he checked it out multiple times. Other titles listed on his 1935 library report include Life Begins at Forty (Pitkin), Sailing Alone Around the World (Slocum), How to Enjoy Music (Reyser), Rudiments of Music (Kitson), Fortnight in Naples (Maure), Practical Flower Gardening (Cloud) and the classic Looking Forward (F.D. Roosevelt).

March 6, 1935

Mr. Sanford Bates

Director

Bureau of Prisons

Washington, D.C.

Dear Mr. Bates:

Enclosed is a copy of a letter that Capone, Number 85-AZ, has written to his wife.

My reason for sending you a copy of that it refers to the death of his dear pal, Frank. The newspapers recently had a story about the death of one Frank Rio, Chicago. In the article referring to the funeral there was a statement that among the floral offering was a huge piece from Al Capone. If there was such a floral piece, it was arranged for by some other member of the Capone family.

If the money that Capone is going to have his wife pay to the widow merely represents charity, it is one thing, but if the deceased was one of a gang or mob, it may be looked at differently. In other words, I want to be careful that I do not allow Capone to transact any gang business from this institution but on the contrary want to do everything possible to disrupt such associations. Perhaps the division of Investigation will know something about the dead man and connections.

Sincerely yours,

J.A. Johnston

Warden

* * *

Warden Johnston’s suspicions were well planted relating to the subsequent letter. “Slippery” Frank Rio was alleged to be one of Capone’s most loyal bodyguards, and also had served time with Capone in the cell adjacent to his at Eastern State Penitentiary in Philadelphia in 1929. Rio died on February 23, 1935, of a coronary occlusion.

A contemporary photograph of Capone’s uniquely furnished cell at Eastern State Penitentiary. Before his arrival at Alcatraz, Capone had managed to set the terms of his own privileges while incarcerated at other prisons.

A portrait of Al Capone, which was pencil sketched by a fellow inmate.

* * *

Mae and Sonny Capone

March 3, 1935

Capone, Mrs.

To my dear Wife:

Hello Ma, how are you, and how is our dear Son? Sure hope and pray that you both are well, after all this sad news about my dear Pal Frank. Gee, Ma, I sure felt terrible about it, to think him above all, and just at a time when he was about to get somewheres, with his dear wife and two kids. God, honey, it was awful, and I sure felt awful about it, but honey, I guess it was the will of God, and all we can do is take care of his family and pray for him. So please tell Ralph that from now on and until I die I want him to arrange with the office at home to see that Blanch gets fifty dollars $50.00 every week, and fifty more for each of his children, and the money for the kids to be put in a trust fund and not to be touched until the kids are twenty one years of age. And honey, I want you at times to keep in touch with her, and do all you can, also ask Ralph how sure he is that it was heart trouble as Honey, you know Frank was at all times real healthy and strong and really I can’t understand it and for Ralph to find out and let me know. Honey, you also did right by leaving home, and doing what you did with Blanch and also about the flowers, now then honey, all I can say is I will always say a pray for him, as he sure was a real pal to me. Also, tell Ralph to do all he can, and what he thinks is best in regards to things in general at home. Also thank him for his lovely letters, also Val’s and glad they are well, and happy and hope they will be that way forever. Also, tell him I still have not heard from Ahearn, and to do all he can, and to find out about that time I did at the County Jail, if I am entitled to it as Mr. Ahearn says I was, if so them it will be time for me to go to a parole, in the meantime I won’t do a thing until I hear from Ralph or you about that time I did in the County Jail, also glad that you all still feel confident that my friends still feel the same, also glad that Papie and Dennie and the Old Man feel the way they do, did you or Ralph talk to Max Baer about him seeing his friend out here. I hope you did as he is sure the right man, and can do it without any trouble at all.

Now dearest, let us forget business and unpleasant happenings and let me tell you dear, that I love, and adore you more now than ever, and my love is increasing more and more each day and as I said before, when your dear dad gets lucky and comes home again into your wonderful arms it will be a new daddy, and yours alone, so please believe me dear, as I sure will prove it to you later.

I got all of you wonderful letters up until the 25th, and honey they sure were wonderful and some of them were pips, and I sure got a wonderful kick out of them, gee, honey, how I wish I could do all I would like to and then I know honey we would all be happy. Of yet, I have not heard about Mimi and Albert coming here. When they do let them get in touch with the Warden and do what you did, about Mother, I don’t want to see her until later, got two letters from Sonny glad he liked my letter, and glad he done so good at school. Also Bibo’s few lines, give him my love and tell him to keep up the good work and write me every week. Also glad the weather there is getting better, and that you get plenty of sun, and honey get out and play golf every day, also glad you are felling better, and hope you will get well soon, about you coming here for Easter, it is OK, and will be glad to see you honey get this magazine called The Reader’s Digest of February, it has a story the name is A Woman Over Forty, it is OK and it will show that we can sure have plenty of good times for a long time after 40 so see dear, don’t worry and all will be OK. Ha ha. Kiss Joanie and Sonnie for me. Love to Val, Ralph, Mimi, Abe, Rose, and Elsie, and Dear, I love you alone, and have forgotten all about the other party.

Love,

Alphonse Capone

* * *

Department of Justice

United States Penitentiary

Alcatraz Island, California

March 25, 1935

Sanford Bates, Director

Bureau of Prisons, Washington DC

Dear Sir:

I have just received your letter of March 20, 1935 in enclosing a newspaper clipping about Al Capone having been placed in solitary for striking the prisoner. The incident, which occurred on February 20, 1935, was reported to you in my report of punishments for the month of February.

William Colyer

This is what happened: Alphonse Capone, #85-AZ, and William Colyer, #185-AZ, were working in the laundry on opposite sides of a mangle. Capone was feeding towels into the mangle; Colyer was taking them out on the other side. Colyer became angered because, according to his claims, Capone was not feeding the mangle properly, with results the towels for coming through partly wet, but Capone’s claim was that he was feeding them through correctly but faster than Colyer could handle them. At any rate, Colyer, receiving some towels on his side did not suit him, threw them back at Capone, whereupon Capone went around the mangle to Colyer’s side and punched him in the eye. Colyer sought to get a tool to resist Capone but Capone picked up a wooden bench and either struck Colyer in the wrist or Colyer, endeavoring to strike him, hit his wrist against the bench, at any rate the result was a sprained wrist.

It all happened very quickly and the guard on duty separated them and brought them both immediately to the deputy, who heard their stories and lock them both in solitary. Capone was in solitary from the time it occurred, on February 20, until February 28. Colyer was in solitary from the occurrence on February 20 to February 26. After removal from solitary, they were both kept in isolation until March 2, 1935.

The story did not leak out until March 14 when the San Francisco Call-Bulletin, telephoned me and asked so many questions about it but I could tell from the character of the questions that they had a substantially accurate story, and that they were merely trying to get verification from me in order to justify the publication. I declined to confirm their information and declined to give them any particulars; nevertheless they went ahead and published the story. All the other newspapers in San Francisco and the several press associations called up repeatedly about the manner and finally when the Associated Press called a second time I decided the best course to pursue in order to get minimized and to keep the others from feeling that the call bulletin had some way of “scooping” them Westwood knowledge that the incident had happened but without giving them particulars. In other words I declined to give them the information but put in such a way as to let them know that it would not be denied if they published it. The Associated Press handled the matter so decently it seemed to me to be the best course to pursue.

I have no idea whether Call-Bulletin security information but from the fact that several weeks have elapsed I feel that no person connected with the institution told directly to them but the some chance remark just trickled along and filtered through several sources until it reached the paper.

From the numerous inquiries that are made about Capone and other “big shots” who had a lot of newspaper notoriety and the persistence of the papers in endeavoring to get their so-called human interest stories or any item to which they can attach one of the names, I am really surprised that they did not get it earlier. All of the newspaper men agree with me about the wisdom of our policy of not giving out information; nevertheless, they fall back on necessities of their calling in the highly competitive nature of their business to justify their reaching in, in effort to get leads and leaks.

They have resorted to every form of questioning and invention of stories about which they then ask questions concerning Capone, Mrs. Capone and Capone’s relatives, their connections, his tax suits, and whether he smokes cigars, and the state of his health, and where he is working, and if we know about the flowers that he sends to funerals, and is Mrs. Capone living in San Francisco, and so on, and so on.

As I’ve said before, each of the newspaper-men will personally agree that we have a good policy, but each intern will resort to various methods of trying to break in. Sometimes they get sore at us, but on the whole they have played quite fair.

Sincerely yours,

J. A. Johnston

Warden

* * *

April 11, 1936

Sanford Bates, Director

Bureau of Prisons, Washington DC

CONFIDENTIAL

MEMORANDUM TO MR. BATES

Ralph Capone and Mr. Tedrow, a lawyer, came to my office yesterday by previous appointment to continue the discussion which I had last week with Mrs. Alphonse Capone concerning what they believe to be the imminent danger in which Al Capone stands at Alcatraz. I previously told Mrs. Capone that we could not consider transferring her husband but if she had any definite information concerning the names of the men who were threatening him we would give him every possible protection and Alcatraz and do it in a way that would not involve her.

In today’s discussion Ralph Capone stated that among the other prisoners at Alcatraz there were many of his brother sworn enemies with whom he had trouble on the outside and that particularly all of these men had life or extremely long sentences to do and in their own minds have little to lose. The fact that Capone has a relatively short sentence with only two and half years left increases their animosity in the family believes that Capone’s release date draws nearer his danger will be increased. I asked Capone for names and details and he told me the following items with the understanding that the fact that he had told them would be use with the utmost confidence and without involving any of the family.

He stated that among those were active against his brother Charles Berta, William Colyer, Basil Banghart, Phil Ryan, and James Sergeant. He stated that Berta had conceived a harebrained idea for escaping by dynamiting his way out of Alcatraz and had asked Capone to back it financially. Capone refused to have anything to do with it and thereby incurred the enmity of Berta and the other “rattle-heads” who were in on the scheme.

Charlie Berta

Basil Banghart

Phil Ryan

F. Lovell Bixby, Assistant Director of the Bureau of Prisons.

Ralph Capone says that Alphonse Capone’s quarrel with Colyer extends back into their pre-institutional careers and that the fight between Colyer and Capone in the laundry several months ago was not a spontaneous matter but the result of long continued threats and muttered insults to which Colyer had been subjecting Capone.

Ralph Capone states that he had trouble with Sergeant at McNeil Island while he was there. According to his story, Sergeant conceived a plan of escape and wanted to have Ralph Capone finance it. Ralph Capone refused and that led to bad feelings.

He states that the Touhy gang or any of their associates, mentioning Banghart and Ryan, particularly, would do almost anything to injure or kill Alphonse Capone. He says that they believe the Capone was responsible for their going to prison. Max Factor, Ralph says, was a close friend of Capone in Chicago and one factor son was kidnapped by the Touhy’s, Capone’s “friends persuaded them to give him back.” Later when the Touhy’s kidnapped Max Factor himself, they said to him, “Let’s see your friend Capone get you away from us.” When the Touhy’s were later brought to trial they asked Capone to get Factor not to testify but Capone would not interfere and therefore they believe that his refusal to interfere resulted in their going to prison.

I am convinced that the family is genuinely apprehensive for this safety and that their stories are not simply for the purpose of scaring us into a transfer. I do not think we should transfer him as he is probably safer there than he would be anywhere else in spite of the character of the population, because the institution is so closely guarded. I think, however, that the matter should be brought to Warden Johnston’s attention and it is probable that he should take special precautions to keep Capone away from the rest of the population, particularly those mentioned in this memorandum.

F. Lovell Bixby

Assistant Director

* * *

May 18, 1936

Dear Ralph:

This is pertaining to your brother Al now in Alcatraz, Calif. Enclosed you will find the true statements in regards to the conditions that exist there at present. Upon arriving at the Island Al your brother was approached by the Touhy Bunch and others of his clicks to advance $5,000 to be used as an escape plan to hire a gun-boat and for people on the outside on threat of his life, which they have attempted time and time again for him refusing to advance same. A year or so ago this same bunch planted a table knife under his seat in dining room which would have caused him going to the hole and maybe lose his good time, which the Deputy Warden knew at the time that Al could not have done it; a party by the name of Whaley working in the kitchen at the time of the last strike, with the Touhy bunch tried and are trying their utmost to poison Al with food and contraband candy. Al in turn would not touch same it being that he was told what they were trying to do to him, at the present time until I left there last month.

Bob Sheridan

Walton “Sparky” Sparks

Bert McDonald

There are two other workers in the kitchen by the name of Sparky prison #200 and Bob Sheridan #199 which are pretending and making Al feel that they are his friend, waiting for an opportunity to knife or poison him. To be frank with you and you full realize the meaning and danger fir your brother AL is that he must by all means get out of there be sent to another prison. They have marked him for his life and it is only a matter of time you will hear the saddest news of your life, knowing beyond a doubt that his life is at stake. Being that I was the orchestra leader and due out May 6th, 1936, a party by the name of Chas. Berta and McDonald #115 approached me and said unless Al gave me the O.K. to get them $,5000 for an escape plan and forward it to the following address:

Mrs. Myrtle Bloxham,

1717 – 4th St.,

South Bellingham, Washington,

and –

Mrs. G. Berta,

1298 Filmore St.,

San Francisco, Calif.

that they would get AL and that he would never leave there alive. I was to get in contact with the following people and have arrangements made for an escape with said money to be turned over to these people.

Thomas Cros, and ex-convict out of McNeil Isl. following locations to find the above for me to get or write to the Chaplin of the Christian Science Church at McNeil Island to receive the address of the mother on false pretense to be a friend and to get in personal contact with Thomas Cross, and for me to give him the outlay of the prison ground and also the secret signals which will be as follows:

A fast motor boat with a row boat behind to go around the island two days in succession after Berta had a visit from his wife which she in turn would set the date and time; I was to see lawyer of San Francisco by name of Nat Coughlin, he is in turn would get me in touch with Berta’s wife and for me to give her plans for escape and for me to write to a convict now in Leavenworth, Kansas, by name of Dooley Chas., who is due out soon and know all the plans, he in turn is a friend of Thos. Cross and also to the ones in Alcatraz Prison. Said prisoner received plans and information through a fellow that was transferred back to Leavenworth, Kansas, about six months ago by name of Mike. The previous day of my release from Alcatraz I was interviewed by the Deputy warden, called and brought before him in the show room in regards to these escape plans which he in turn happens to know all about it. He agrees with me that Al’s life is in danger and would like to see him transferred out of there.

I don’t believe you know the dangers as Al cannot go out in the yard; it is now going on for the past year and that he is in real danger with his life. This information is known by all the guard and officials of the Island. It seems that with all this Al is afraid to eat the food and his health is failing him. These facts are the Almighty and God’s truth and all because Al refuses to be a party to these escape plans and upon it all trying to be a model prisoner. He has made more enemies by not being in with these plans and strikes. It seems and I know and fear things will get worse when some of these same men get out of solitary confinement; there are numerous other things such as burning his clothes week after week from the laundry. It seems that most of these men threaten Al’s life for not sending money to different people, such as this man Jack Baker who works in the blacksmith shop, and said unless he receives $500 he will knife or poison Al or get even some dirty way. He wants $500 sent to Mrs. Grant Morrison, 127 North Edgement, Los Angeles, Calif.

These facts I happen to know as I was the music teacher for Al for 1-½ yrs. and knew every move and attempts that have failed towards his life and constant tortures that he is going through daily. After spending half my life in various prisons there is none so corrupt as Alcatraz. I am sure and feel that Atty. General would not stand to see Al killed in cold blood when he has proven himself a model prisoner and helped to better himself in music. I know and take solemn oath to the above facts to be truthful, and it is more serious than I can explain in writing.

(Signed) Chas. Mangiere #97

Charles Mangiere

Frank Del Bono was Capone’s most trusted associate on Alcatraz. They were always seen together both during work and recreation periods, and also shared adjacent cells (Capone in B-181 and Del Bono in B-182). A migrant from Italy, he was serving 42 years for postal robbery.

Del Bono’s transfer request to the Shower Room so that he could work alongside Capone.

* * *

James Lucas

MEMORANDUM

June 23, 1936

To: J. A. Johnston, Warden

From: C.J. Shuttleworth, Deputy Warden

RE: Attack upon Capone #85-AZ 06-23-36

About 9:30 AM this date I received a call from Mr. Hansen at the west end of the cell house stating there was a cutting scrape that just happened in the basement. I rushed back there to find out from Mr. Hanson that Lucas #224 had stabbed Capone #85 and that both of them were up in the hospital.

I immediately went to the hospital. Waiting outside in the hallway of the hospital was Lucas with Junior Custodial Officer Lapsley. I asked Lucas what happened. He said that he had struck Capone with a half scissor. Asked him why he had done it and he said because Capone “snitched to you and had me removed from the barbershop.” I told him Capone had nothing to do with his removal from the barbershop and went on into the hospital to see the condition of Capone.

He was on the table in the outpatient office, lying on his stomach, upper part of his body stripped. The doctor with Guard Attendant Ping was attending to stopping the heavy flow of blood from a small wound on the left side of his back and about halfway down his back, near the side.

At this time he was conscious, smiling, and I asked him what had happened and he said that Lucas had come up from behind him, struck him in the back while he was standing looking at a mandolin which was lying on the counter in the clothing room. Upon being attacked he grabbed the mandolin and swung it around, hitting Lucas in the head. Lucas continued to attempt to attack him and in the attempt to disarm Lucas, he got a few minor cuts on his hands.

Asked him what the cause of the attack was in he said it was the same old story, because he would not furnish money requested by Lucas. Guard Sanders who was on duty in the clothing room at the time reports that a few minutes before he had gone in the clothing room and went over to a small desk with #107-Best. They were drawing a design for some additional pigeonholes for inmates clothing. Mr. Sanders’ back was towards the door. He noticed Capone into the clothing room and saw him looking at mandolin but did not notice Lucas come in. The first he noticed was when he heard a scuffle and yelling.

At that time Capone was trying to protect himself against the attack of Lucas. Mr. Sanders was only about 10 feet away, pulled out his club and jumped over to them, pushed Capone behind him and with Lucas in front of him ordered Lucas to surrender the half of scissors he was holding in his hand, which Lucas did without any resistance. Mr. Sanders took Lucas then up the stairs to the cell house and turned him over to Mr. Lapsley. At the same time he blew a whistle to attract attention of the cell house guard. #107-Best went with Capone up the stairs through the kitchen to the mess hall gate. Through this gate Best took Capone up to the hospital while Mr. Sanders cleared the basement of all inmates. Mr. Lapsley took Lucas to the hospital and stayed with him.

Albert Best

This is all the information I’ve been able to obtain up to the present time (3:00 p.m.) accepting that as soon as Lucas had a slight cut on his head dressed I ordered him placed in solitary confinement “D” cell block, about 10 AM.

CJ Shuttleworth

Deputy Warden

* * *

June 25, 1936

Hon. Sanford Bates,

Director,

Bureau of Prisons,

Washington, D.C.

Dear Mr. Bates:

Referring to our conference this morning relative to our appeal for the transfer of my brother Al from Alcatraz, and confirming my verbal statement to you, I respectfully state that on behalf of myself, Al’s wife, and our mother, that we will gladly assume all responsibility for his safety and welfare if you transfer him to one of our other prisons.

Further, in the event of Al being transferred to some other institution, I will personally assume all responsibility and guilt for any bribes of officials or guards, also other prisoners, seeking any special privileges, favors, etc., and, in fact, anything of any nature whatsoever in violation of your prison rules, all of which, I repeat, I will assume full responsibility and the guilt thereof.

The family feels that an immediate transfer is vitally necessary, not only because his life is in danger, but his health is impaired due to his lack of fresh air, exercise, extreme nervous condition, mental worries, because of existing conditions and he cannot enjoy the yard privileges, being at times fearful of criminal attack.

Thanking you for kind consideration and trusting that you will transfer him at the earliest possible moment, I beg to remain

Respectfully yours,

Ralph Capone

* * *

93 Palm Island

Miami Beach, Florida

June 25, 1936

Mr. Bates

Superintendent of Prisons

Washington, D.C.

Dear Mr. Bates:

I am taking the liberty of writing you and hope that you will understand and realize how I feel towards my husband. You must realize how much she means to my son and I, and how much I worry and get nervous and upset when I read and hear things happening to him. This last one has been a bad blow and could have been much worse; that man that harmed him could just as well taken a hold of a razor in preference to a scissors.

I am pleading to you to transfer my husband; you know that he is not safe; how can he be, with things going like they are. I am sure he tries to go along and mind his own business, but you know just as well as I do that if anybody is going to try to harm him he has to take care of himself. Mr. Bates, he is in danger; why must we be left in constant worry and fear? It is bad enough to have the poor man where he is without, having him in constant fear for his life?

Mr. Bates, when I spoke to you on the phone the other day, I tried my best to impress on you how necessary it is to move my husband. You realize he only has two and a half years to go, which will mean a new life to my son and I. Please don’t delay us this happiness.

I hope you’ll find time to investigate this whole matter, and trusting that it will be in my husband’s favor, as I feel something must be done at once.

Respectfully yours,

(Signed) Mrs. A. Capone

7244 Prairie Ave.

Chicago, Illinois,

* * *

June 25, 1936

Superintendent of prisons

Washington, D.C.

Dear Mr. Bates:

I am having my daughter write to you concerning my son Alphonse Capone, as I am sick in bed from the shock of hearing how he was stabbed while in jail the other day. I can’t begin to tell you how I feel that such a thing should happen. I certainly feel that he is not safe in such a place as Alcatraz, and have wondered where the guards were for such a thing to happen.

This is not the first attempt on his life there. How do you think he feels working with such men and to be around them all day, when they are forever threatening him. You will never realize what my son means to me. But if you have a son of your own, you may, if you had to go through what I have. At night I cannot sleep, thinking if he will see the next day or not.

I feel as long as he has over two years to serve that something ought to be done at once. Mr. Bates, I want you to please for my sake consider transferring him. I cannot see how he will ever be safe in such a place and environment. After all, he is with men that life means nothing to, and they perhaps have no mother or family to worry about or even expectation of happiness again. So what does a pair of scissors or a razor mean to such men? After all, my son comes from a good family; I have always been a good mother and we all miss him so at home. We would be so happy to have him home with us again. I feel his sentence was long enough for income tax. He is deprived of all his liberties. We can’t see him for months at a time. Still he is willing to go along and take it all. But being in constant fear of his life is one terrible thing.

I am sure something can be done before the situation grows worse. You will never be sorry, and you will cause a new life for me, as well as for him. So please, please I plead with you to do something for him at once, as soon as possible.

Yours truly,

(Signed) Theresa Capone

Capone and his mother relax on the pier of his Palm Island, Miami Beach, Florida estate (circa 1943).

* * *

Feb.

Mrs. Mae Capone

93 Palm Island

Miami Beach

Florida

To My Dear Wife,

Well Sweet, here I am with a few lines to you, the dearest in all the world to me. And have prayed these last few days of my sickness to our dear God above to make me so well, which she has, and I sure thanked her for making me well and sure am in perfect health again, as you and Mafalada will see on your visiting days this month. I also received all of your letters Sweet, and more than happy that you and our dear Son, are in perfect health, I also heard from my dear Sister and also brother Ralph, please give them my love, and also tell Ralph not to worry about me, as I am in good health, and intend to be home, when my time is up unless I have to go to the County Jail in Cook County, Sweet I received this month two letters dated Feb. 3r – 5th, and sure enjoyed them and happy that you and Sonny and all the rest of our dear families are in good health, give them all of my love and kisses to the kids and please don’t worry about me, as you will see for yourself how I look when you get here on visit with Mafalda, so keep that lovely chin, up and remember Sweet, it isn’t much longer before I will be home, and into your loving arms forever, so Sweet don’t worry about me as am O.K. and will be on routine working in the yard A.M. and Music afternoon in no less than two more days.

So you see Sweet, nothing to keep you worried, as when you visit me, you will see yourself Sweet, that your dear Dad is in good health. Give my love to Mother and glad in Mafalda’s letter she told me Mother is in perfect health and also the rest of our families are the same, I thank God and pray night and mornings to keep up her good work. In the meantime tell Ralph not to worry about me, as all is going to be in perfect shape, in regards to my doing the rest of time, and come in perfect health and don’t intend to make any moves of any kind, outside of obeying my officers and respecting them, and doing my work, so you see my dearest, there is nothing for any of you to worry, smile and keep that smile until your dear dad comes home, and then Sweet, watch me strut my stuff, and all my love and I mean Sweet for you alone, and with heart and soul, and forever and ever.

Sweet here is my word to you, from a couple of days from now, I will be in perfect health and intend to be in perfect health when I come home which in time is getting shorter and shorter, until I see you and my dear sister, please do not worry, then you will be satisfied that I’m not in bad shape, as what you have heard. So chin up Sweet, and remember, we are going to have plenty happiness ahead for us and our future, and the rest of our lives, and Sweet remember this promise, nothing in this world is ever going to interfere with our future happiness, Sweet I mean this, and all I can add to this promise is for you and dear Son and families all keep in perfect health, and not to worry about your dear dad, as nothing is going to get your dear dad down, in the meantime tell Sonny to up the way he is doing at College and (write) me as often as he can, and kiss as often as you can for me and God Bless all of you.

Your dear dad,

Alphonse Capone #85

* * *

One of Capone’s visitation records showing the frequent visits he received from family members.

A press photographer snapped this photo of Al Capone’s wife, Mae, in March 1938, as she made her way off the Alcatraz prison launch.

Al, with his wife Mae and her sister Muriel, in Florida, 1945.

Al Capone at his Palm Island estate, 1945.

December 18th

To My Dear Wife:

Well dear of mine, here is your dear husband, who loves you, with all of my heart and soul. First thanks to all of your lovely letters this month. Sure glad to read the good news that you and our dear love, are in perfect health. I just came back from church, Father Clark had another priest here, who just came back from Italy, and he gave us a good sermon all about Italy and Germany. In the mean time dear heart of mine please do worry about me, as I am improving every day. I get two treatments a week and they do not hurt me at all. I work out in the recreation yard five days a week, and Saturday and Sunday. I catch up on my music and read a number a Monthly and Weekly Magazines, and a hot bath every day, and three good meals each day. I hope to see you and Sonny again before I leave here next January the 18th. I have quite a number of songs written for him to sing to them to you, and I will play them on the piano or Mandola.

Yes dear I had a nice letter from Sonny dated Dec. 3rd, and he told me that the 20th of this month he will be 20 years old. Yes Sweet, he is sure a son to be proud of, and from the day I come home, he, you, and I will sure go to town in regards to our happiness. I intend to spend the rest of my life, right there in Palm Island, and you and Son and I will get plenty of happiness in our future. We seen a lovely picture on Thanksgiving day, and we will have another one next Christmas. Yes Dear, next Saturday I go to Confession and the following day we will get Communion, and my prayers will be all for you two. In the meantime thank all of my family for all their lovely letters and give them all of my love. Get in touch with my dear brother Ralph, and for him to arrange to pay that $37,000 fine and costs I have to pay here, And then I go to the County Jail I will have to pay another fine there of $10,000. But when I come there I can see you, and hon, all of our dear family every week and I’m through with that Sentence, never again, will I do anything that will keep me away from you, and Son, tell him to continue his golf playing, as I intend to play with him every day and nights, the three of us will either see a Movie or a show or go to one of our own night clubs and dance all of our troubles away. I now weigh 204, and fell fine and dandy, and when you come here on the next visit, bring me a picture of Sonny, you, and his Sweetheart. Tell Ralph not to worry about me, as I’m satisfied with everything here and hope to see him as soon as I come to Chicago. Love and Kisses to you and Sonny,

Year Dear Husband Alphonse Capone #85

* * *

Alcatraz, California

February 17, 1938

Mr. A. Capone, Jr.

Notre Dame College

Norte Dame, Indiana

To my dear son:

Well, Junior, here is your dear Dad, with your monthly letter, and all of my heart’s wishes, that it will find you in the best of good health, and getting along so wonderful with your studies. Yes Son, I sure am proud of you, and pray night and day and mornings that our God above will always take good care of you, and lead you on to your future, to be a healthy and happy and successful one. Yes my dear Son, you sure are leading on the road, that will make your future a happy one and successful and with the fact how your dear Mother and I feel about you and our prayers and the fact that it won’t be long before I’m home, and into your arms and your dear Mother’s arms, who has been so good to you and me, and sure taking it on her chin with a smile and acting the part of both Mother and Wife, in an honest and respectful way. God keep her and you in the best of good health and without a doubt in my mind Son from the day I come home, we three will be the happiest in all God’s creation and with a doubt, so Son of mine, keep healthy and keep up all of your good work in regards to your studies and making friends and respecting your teachers and superiors, and any time you’ve got something on your mind that you want to keep between you us two, not to hurt your dearest mother, as she will understand and not hurt at all. Son, I don’t mean there is unpleasant as I love you both with all my heart and soul, and that means forever and ever. What I’m trying to get at is this, maybe you’ve got something on your mind about your future. Son all I want you to do is not hold it back as your Mother and your dear dad will go to the limit for your health and future. In the meantime, Sonny, just go along on your law course and I’ll give you my word, if you still want to be a doctor just wait until I come home, so you, your dear Mother and your dear dad will get together and talk everything about your future. I’m sure when I get through, you and “Maggie” dear and I, will be happy, because it will be all of our desire’s, cause at times we three will always be together, So Son, keep on going as you are in regards to Law, and about that Doctor course, we will talk it over when I come home. So chin up Junior, keep up the good work and please write me as often as you can, as it sure improves my heart and soul, when I read how wonderful you are improving, rest assured, Son, from the first day I come home, there never again will be any grief or sorrows or hardships, because conditions will be so, that the three of us will be together forever.

Now Junior, chip up, and don’t let nothing get you down, as it won’t be long before I’ll be home. In the meantime, I’m sure in good health and intend to continue, so we will have some good time very shortly.

I’m doing very nicely here, no hardships, respect my superiors and do my work, three meals a day, plenty exercise, music and all kinds of magazines, under the 200 in regards to my weight, I sure hope before I come home you can arrange a visit for you and your Mother as I sure am anxious to see you. From your Mother I received several letters this month and enjoyed all of them, also from Grandma and Mafalda, Matty, Annette, your dear Uncle Ralphie, and glad you and him are good pals and be that way always. Give your dear Mother a million kisses for me. Love and kisses to all families. Your dear Dad.

Alphonse Capone #85

Capone’s younger sister Mafalda pictured at her wedding. She wrote her brother frequently during his years in prison attempting to lift his spirits.

Sonny Capone posing with his father outside their Palm Island estate.

Al’s son, Albert Francis “Sonny” Capone lived his life as an upstanding citizen and later changed his surname to avoid any so-called crime associations that were synonymous with the Capone name. Described as “a super nice guy who didn’t have a mean bone in his body and would talk to prince or pauper on an equal level,” Sonny would shy away from discussing his father and his family past. He was married three times and had four daughters from his first wife. Sonny Capone passed away of natural causes on July 8, 2004, in El Dorado, California.

A contemporary view of Al Capone’s Alcatraz cell. Al’s cell was located on the second tier of Block B along the stretch of corridor between A and B Blocks in cell B-181.

Capone’s writing desk inside B-181.

* * *

James Ryan

August 16, 1938

Alcatraz, California

TO: Director, Bureau of Prisons

RE: Capone, Alphonse #85-AZ

Ryan, James # 189-AZ

I am enclosing you herewith a copy of the report made by Doctor Ritchey of a little trouble that developed between Capone #85 and James Ryan #189, both of whom are patients in the hospital; also, report of Junior Officer Donald McNab.

James Ryan was a member of the Tuohy mob in Chicago and, of course, four years of bad blood has existed between the Capone and the Tuohy mobs. However, this is the first direct trouble we have had between Capone and any of the other members of the Tuohy mob incarcerated here. We have made arrangements, as outlined in Dr. Ritchey’s report, which will make it impossible for these two to have any further trouble. There is nothing serious about this, but like all other matters in which Capone is involved, at some time or another they seem to reach the papers eventually and create much ado about nothing — so I thought I would advise you in full on this incident.

C.J. Shuttleworth

Acting Warden

* * *

UNITED STATES PUBLIC HEALTH SERVICE

UNITED STATES PENITENTIARY, ALCATRAZ CALIFORNIA

August 16, 1938

MEMO: To Warden

RE: Altercation in the hospital at 8:15 AM, between Number 85-AZ Capone and Number 189-AZ Ryan

Capone had been turned into Ward “A” by the guard on duty in the hospital, to empty his bedpan. He was in the toiley [sic] cleaning it perhaps with a towel which the word patients used to clean the table in Ward “A”. Ryan who was mopping in front of the toilet, as to not to use it, Capone flew into a rage and struck Ryan in the temple with the bedpan inflicting a small laceration. Ryan then struck Capone over the head with the mop. Capone grabbed the mop out of Ryan’s hands and when the guard, Mr. Comerford and Mr. Sabin arrived on the scene Capone was fighting off all the patients in the ward, but no other injuries resulted.

Capone has been allowed to come into the ward to bathe an empty his bedpan and urinal under the supervision of the guard. This practice has been discontinued and Capone is not allowed in the ward for any reason, and is using the toilet at the other end of the hospital.

Ryan received a small cut above his left eye on the temple, which is not serious. Surgical dressing was applied. Capone was uninjured.

Respectfully,

Romney M. Ritchey, Surgeon

Chief Medical Officer

* * *

January 4, 1939

Mr. James V. Bennett, Director, Washington D.C.,

RE: Impending Transfer via Santa Fe Railroad

There is enclosed a letter addressed by Dr. Hess to Dr. Fuller concerning the impending transfer. I concur in Doctor Hess’s views. It would be my recommendation that when this transfer is made we secure in lieu of one drawing room, two adjacent compartments, or one compartment and one drawing room. The inmate could be kept in one of these in which the door to the pullman corridor or could be kept permanently locked. The compartments would not have a window to the pullman corridor, and such a window, as you recall, does exist in the case of drawing rooms. This would be an advantage. He would be “slept” in the upper berth, which would be kept made up permanently to avoid a need for a pullman porter to enter it. The upper berth would, of course, afford better security due to the absence of windows.

During his sleeping hours one officer would be continually on duty, of course. The other two would sleep in the immediately adjacent compartment. Meals could be set up by the waiter and the second compartment without the waiter ever seeing him. By following this plan, which I feel could be followed, it would not be necessary for anyone on the train to come into visual contact with him, barring, of course, all unforeseen developments. The use of the two compartments would, in the daytime, also afford more space and, mentally, the inmate would probably react better to this arrangement.

When the transfer is ordered we would plan to leave this and on the “Santa Fe Limited,” which carries a through sleeper to St. Louis. We would board this train at either Pasadena or San Bernardino at 8:25 or 9:35 p.m. The inmate could be taken there in a private car. As noted, this train carries a through sleeper to St. Louis which arrives there at 7:30 the third morning out. The C&O “George Washington” leaves St. Louis at 9:10 the same morning. I am sure we could affect arrangements to transfer the image directly from the first pullman to another pullman on that train. This train runs directly through to Richmond. Again, I am sure we could have the train stopped, if necessary, to make a special shop shortly before reaches Richmond. I feel sure this could be done because the chief special agent of the C&O, Cassidy, is an old friend of mine. We could notify Petersburg to meet us at the designated point in a private car.

It seems to me that the foregoing would be the best plan. Of course, you may have other and better ideas but I’m submitting this now for your consideration. Probably we will have plenty of time to work it out because I understand from Mr. Cooper that you advised him yesterday this move will be made not before the latter part of next week.

Mr. Cooper has issued an order that I am here in training and I shall, of course, be available either at my hotel in Long Beach, “The Hilton,” for your orders. Mr. Cooper has been handling this matter very well here.

With best wishes, I am

Sincerely,

Clark Schilder

* * *

USP Terminal Island Warden Lloyd (R), and W. T. Hammack (L), Assistant Director of the Federal Bureau of Prisons, seen inspecting the cellhouse which underwent an extensive remodel prior to Al Capone’s arrival in January of 1939.

An officer manning one of the gun towers at USP Terminal Island where Al Capone was transferred after serving four and half years on Alcatraz.

January 8, 1939

Warden Lloyd

Federal Correctional Institution

Terminal Island, California

RE: Alphonse Capone, No. 85-AZ

Dear Warden Lloyd:

Associate Warden Miller has just returned and reported to me regarding the trip in which he transferred Capone to your institution. He informs me that the trip was uneventful and that the prisoner was well behaved and cooperative, that apparently nobody on the train had any inkling as to his identity, that when they reached the station at Glendale you had your automobile parked right opposite the car and that they were able to step out of the car to the automobile without attracting any attention.

I have just written to the director informing him about the means taken for the transfer and your fine cooperation. No announcements were made here until the prisoner was securely in your institution, where, according to previous instructions, Mr. Miller sent a telegram to Mr. Bennett and Mr. Bennett made an announcement to the press associations that the transfer had been accomplished.

Because we did not want to cause any stir or arouse curiosity we did not pull the files in advance. However, the files are now being assembled and the record clerk will mail the correspondence record and Dr. Ritchey will forward the complete medical file to Dr. Hess. I sent Dr. Hess a copy of the last report that Dr. Ritchey and I sent to the director regarding Capone’s condition, as I thought Dr. Hess should have it pending receipt of the complete medical file with history of treatment, much of which, of course, he is money with. I am now enclosing a copy of the U.S. Public Health Service Release Report, that is, medical certificate of departing prisoners made by Dr. Ritchey on January 6th after he examined Capone just prior to the transfer.

If we received an e-mail for Capone in the next couple of days which his relatives are likely to write him, we will forward the letters to you for delivery in the regular way, and when he writes me, of course, can get his relatives his new address. When you receive the central file I think you will have everything necessary, as it contains everything that we have on the case. I can only think of one thing that you may require to complete your records and that may be a statement from the director as to the computation of time in the payment of fines, and should you want these, of course, Mr. Bennett will advise you.

Sincerely,

J.A. Johnston

Warden

* * *

DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE

UNITED STATES PENITENTIARY

ALCATRAZ ISLAND, CALIFORNIA

January 8, 1939

Mr. James V. Bennett, Director

Bureau of Prisons

Department of Justice

Washington, D.C.

RE: Alphonse Capone, No. 85-AZ

My Dear Mr. Bennett:

Pursuant to orders, Alphonse Capone, No. E5-AZ., Has been transferred to the Federal Correctional Institution, Terminal Island, California.

Following the receipt of your letter of December 29, 1938, and the formal orders and the two telegrams that you sent on January 4, 1939, I made my plans to effect the transfer is you had directed any time after January 4th and in such a way that it could be accomplished without advance notice, leaving the announcement to be made by you after the transfer had been completed.

The train known as “The Lark” leaves San Francisco for Los Angeles at 9:00 p.m. there is a car made up at Oakland for East Bay travelers desiring to make that trip, and the car that they board in Oakland goes down the East side of the Bay to San Jose, and at that point is attached to the “Lark.”

On Thursday the 6th, I had Mr. Mills the chief clerk make arrangements for three tickets and a compartment on the car leaving Oakland at 8:15 p.m. Dr. Ritchey and Associate Warden Miller arranged to take the prisoner from the hospital at about 7:00 p.m. He was dressed in prisoners blue suit, but over the prison blue he wore an overcoat and a fedora hat. Associate Warden Miller accompanied by Junior Officer Curry took the prisoner in bus to the wharf, leaving here at 7:05 p.m., and reaching Oakland just a little before 8 o’clock. Mr. Mills, who accompanied them, went up to the ticket office, picked up the tickets, spotted the car and the compartment, went back to the launch and the officers and prisoner would direct me to the car without having to go to the regular depot or meet with any other persons or any persons traveling on the regular ferry boats. The births in the compartment were already made and they were on the train and in the compartment before other passengers arrived. Before their departure I telephoned Warden Lloyd, told him that they were located in Train Car #71, and that they would leave the train at Glendale, requesting that he be at Glendale with automobile in advance of arrival of train, and that he keep his automobile and motion until he can locate the car number and then park his automobile immediately opposite the steps to the car.

Mr. Miller, who has just returned, informs me that Mr. Lloyd was on hand with his automobile directly opposite the car and that as they got out they had a few steps to walk across the platform to the automobile, and that so far as he could tell no person saw them in no persons knew there was a prisoner on the train except the conductor and porter, and they did not know the identity of the prisoner.

In accordance with plan instructions before they left here, Mr. Miller wired to you and to me that he had arrived safe and secured receipt without revealing names prisoner. Because it was Saturday morning, and calculating the difference between Pacific and Eastern Standard Time, I thought it advisable to telephone you so you would be anticipating and waiting for this telegram so you could get out announcements to press associations. In accordance with our understanding I informed the San Francisco papers after I received a telegram. Inquiries have been made almost every day during the last couple of months as to plans for transfer in all the papers were making efforts to learn the exact time and method in place to which he would be transferred, but when it actually was executed they were taken by surprise and they apparently had no rumors the night of the six, but on the morning of the seventh they were putting in calls for me which I did not answer until after I had talked to you and have a telegram from Mr. Miller.

In order not to show any activity here there was nothing taken from the files except the commitment and that was taken just a few minutes before the associate warden got ready to take the boat. Through Mr. Miller I sent Dr. Hess, in an envelope marked confidential, the copy of the communication that I addressed to you under date of December 23, 1938 as to the doctor’s report on Capone’s condition at that time. As that was the last report made I thought Dr. Hess should have it pending the arrival of the complete medical file which Dr. Ritchey is sending Dr. Hess by mail. The central file in the mail records are also going forward by mail to Warden Lloyd. When they receive the files I think the officials that Terminal Island will have the complete record in everything they need except the possibility that they may want to be advised by you concerning the computation time in the payment of fines.

Associate Warden Miller delivered his prisoner the morning of the 7th, following which he was shown around the institution, and he returned on the train the night of the 7th, arriving here this morning. On his return he reported to me that the trip was uneventful. On the launch trip from here in Oakland Capone displayed no special curiosity except to see the bridge, which he viewed from the lunch cabin windows. When they got to the compartment in the car the berths were already made. Capone went to bed and the lower birth, but Mr. Miller and Mr. Curry decided that they would alternate taking naps while sitting in their chairs. Capone did not sleep throughout the night that all three of them dosed occasionally for short periods. Mr. Miller states that Capone was not nervous and not excited but seemed pleased about his transfer and was in every way normal, although not as talkative as they thought he would be, which Miller accounts for by stating that they did not ask any questions or get him to talk, and he apparently pursue the course that he thought was required to adapt himself to the situation, showing his desire to cooperate with the officers and not talk out of turn. The only thing that seemed surprising was when they were getting off the train at Glendale, where one of the officers said something like “does this look like Chicago?” And he responded “I should say not” from which they judged that while he had not appeared unduly curious he may have thought that he was being transferred to Chicago.

I am enclosing a copy of the U.S. Public Health Service Release Report; that is, the medical certificate of departing prisoners which Dr. Ritchey made out after his examination of Capone at the time he was taken from the hospital for the transfer.

When I get a chance to gather the newspapers of yesterday and today I will clip and send you any articles concerning this matter that I think may be of interest to you.

Sincerely,

J.A. Johnston

Warden

* * *

October 30, 1939

MEMORANDUM FOR THE ATTORNEY GENERAL:

Re: Al Capone

I have received some further information concerning how components present attitudes, which may be of interest to you.

The following is quoted from a letter from Dr. George Hess, the medical officer who is been in charge of Capone’s case for some time. Capone has a genuine regard for Dr. Hess, and I believe would describe his true feelings to the doctor.

“He (Capone) has no use for William Randolph Hearst and threatens to expose him to his (Capone’s) own newspapers, the Cicero Tribune any Miami Times. Other than that he makes no other threats towards Mr. Hearst. He brands Hearst as a degenerate and claims that Hearst is the one who is the cause of all the adverse publicity in his case. He then makes the remark that Hearst will not bother him again because they have run him out of the country and have sold his papers.

William Randolph Hearst

“Capone is also bitter towards Judge Wilkinson (judge who sentenced him) because he has “double-crossed” him. In this connection he does not make any threatening remarks.

“In his present mental state I would hesitate to place any confidence in any threats he might make. Since talking to his brother John and his wife today I believe I have impressed them with the necessity of keeping the patient activities suppressed at all times. They were both very pleased with the manner in which you are handling the case and express her gratitude for what I have done. They did not tell him the plans for the future and I think they did right because of the officer present. I have told him that the plans were to place in any private institution for a while and he is very pleased about it.

Warden Lloyd, who also knows Capone quite well, informed me that Capone is still very bitter against Mr. Hearst and refers frequently to the occasion when he visited the home of Mr. Hearst at San Simeon and saw some “carousing” on the part of the men and women at the party, which he thought disgusting. This is the same incident about which he told me personally. Warden Lloyd thinks also that his bitterness and threats towards Mr. Hearst are not really dangerous. It is my own personal feeling; however, that one can never tell what a paretic will do because it is characteristic of the disease to rob a man entirely of his judgment.

We have the detailed neuropsychiatric record on Capone in the office, which covers about thirty pages. If you have time to examine it, I should be glad to forward it.

Dr. Fuller, our medical director has had a conference with Dr. Moore of Johns Hopkins, and it looks as though Dr. Moore would accept Capone as a patient on condition that Capone cannot successfully be treated in the general medical ward, he will consent to commitment to the Sheppard Pratt Hospital for mental cases, which is in Baltimore. This is, as you may perhaps know, one of the finest institutions in the country for mental afflictions.

(Signed) Director

United States Bureau of Prisons

Intra-Bureau Correspondence

Federal Correctional Institution, Terminal Island, California

Al Capone died only eight years following his release from Alcatraz on January 25, 1947. He would spend his final days in a secluded atmosphere at his Florida estate, surrounded by family members. His death ultimately resulted from a slow cerebral hemorrhage and pneumonia on January 25, 1947, both of which were secondary to his chronic syphilis. Capone was just 48 years old at the time of his death.

Mickey Cohen, AZ-1518

Mickey Cohen

Al Capone was the King of Chicago. If you were disfavored by him, your life wasn’t worth a damn. I walked into his office kind of awed, because I was a young kid anyway ... then he did something which was a very big thing for me - he kind of held my head and kissed me on both cheeks. After that meeting, it was kind of like a whole new world for me. People who never knew me before knew me now. I wasn’t just a punk kid anymore...

- Mickey Cohen

In addition to his strong ties to Al Capone, Los Angeles-based gangster Meyer Harris “Mickey” Cohen was a long-standing member of America’s Jewish Mafia.

Cohen’s Inmate Case File—scribed during his years at USPs Alcatraz, Atlanta, and McNeil Island—provides his detailed background, which includes a family history that was provided by Cohen during interviews with prison staff members.

COMMITTED NAME: COHEN, Meyer Harris

REGISTER NUMBER: 1518-AZ

DATE: December 13, 1962

SENTENCE DATA:

This forty-nine-year-old resident of Los Angeles, California was sentenced July 1, 1961 at Los Angeles to serve fifteen years for an attempt to evade and defeat income tax. He was committed directly to Alcatraz on July 28, 1961, but released on appeal bond on October 17, 1961. He was returned to custody on May 8, 1962 with 202 days of his sentence inoperative; he was returned to Alcatraz on May 14, 1962. He is eligible for parole on January 18, 1967, and his mandatory release date is February 14, 1972.

Cohen in July of 1961 with girlfriend Claretta (Sandy) Hashagen after being jolted with a 15-year prison sentence for income tax evasion.Following his sentencing, he was transferred directly to Alcatraz.

SOCIAL INFORMATION:

He has received two visits every month from his brother, Harry Cohen, of Oakland, California, and his girlfriend, Claretta Hashagen, of Las Vegas, Nevada, who alternate their visits. He also had several visits from his attorneys. He corresponds regularly with his brother, girlfriend, and sister, Lillian Weimer of Los Angeles, California, and occasionally with his friends, Abe Phillips of Beverly Hills, California and Ed Trascher of Las Vegas, Nevada. He has been quite prolific in his writing and has been warned several times about violations of the correspondence regulations. He has $335.05 in his personal account.

INSTITUTIONAL ADJUSTMENT:

No good time outstanding. He has a clear conduct record. After his return to this institution from appeal, he was assigned to the Clothing Room on May 24, 1962, and has remained there to date. His work supervisor reports that he is a very good worker. This is because he is concerned about doing his share of the work for fear that someone will think he isn’t carrying his share of the load and is riding on his name. In the cell house he is very cooperative and polite towards officers. He keeps one of the neatest cells in the cell house, goes to the yard whenever he can, and seems to be well adjusted to his present situation. He has a great tendency to be a packrat.

In the cell house Cohen is reported as having made a good adjustment and spending his time in many things, with card playing heading the list. He is not observed to be of any trouble to the inmates and has an attitude that he deserves special consideration, although he obeys the rules and regulations when faced with them. The cell house officer states, “This man is apt at getting what he wants by any means open to him.” Cohen is a member of the Jewish faith and attends such services regularly. The Protestant chaplain remarks that Cohen has had some individual counseling, seems to be making a better adjustment, and is friendly and cooperative with the chaplain.

He reads a great amount, according to his book loans from the institution library, and reads such a wide range of material, such as general works, books, sports books, science (math), poetry, better speech and English, philosophy, travel, character, biographies, and biology books. It is noted that his loans of the books are strictly non-fictional in nature.

Committee Impressions and Recommendations:

Making satisfactory adjustment, but is quite demanding. Committee recommends that he continue the present program.

ADMISSION SUMMARY

OFFICIAL VERSION:

The prosecuting agency report notes that: “Cohen was convicted of attempting to evade federal income taxes for the years 1946, 1947, and 1948, and of giving a false statement to an agent of the United States Treasury Department by a federal jury on June 9, 1951 at Los Angeles, California. Similar charges were brought against his wife, but were later dismissed on the motion of the US Attorney after the premature death of a highly important witness. The total amount abated by the couple as proven at trial was about $156,000. They were also found to have failed to pay some $5,000 in income taxes for the year 1945, but these figures were not the basis of any criminal charge.”

INMATE VERSION:

Cohen states: “I have been convicted of income tax evasion. I have been in the Los Angeles County jail for about eight months awaiting appeal bond. I was once granted a $5,000 bond on appeal, but the United States District Attorney asked Chief Justice Denman of the Ninth Circuit Court to put it in the hands of the whole court, which was done. I truly don’t understand the complete happenings. My attorney tells me that I am being held illegally. My application for bond is in the Ninth Circuit Court; the court of the Chief Justice Denman who granted me bond. I just arrived here at the institution today and I am a bit nervous, but I’ve tried to explain as much as I know.”

In a subsequent statement, Cohen states that he is not guilty of the charge. He relates that he employed a chief accountant as well as an accountant for each of his business enterprises, giving them both strict orders “NOT TO FOOL WITH UNCLE SAM ON INCOME TAX.” He explains he had arrangements with gambling customers placing bets on a given amount of money. For example, a customer would state he wished to place $25,000. Portions would be wagered on various events, with alternating gains and losses. No money would exchange hands until the specified amount would be won or lost. He attributes his conviction to his notoriety.

EVALUATED SUMMARY:

Meyer Harris Cohen, known as Mickey Cohen, was born in New York City, New York, September 4, 1913 to Max and Fanny Cohen, Russian-Jewish immigrants. They were natives of Kiev, Russia, and came to New York, according to Cohen, sometime around the turn-of-the-century. He states that his father had another name other than the Americanized version, but he is unable to recall it. He is also uncertain about whether or not his parents ever took out citizenship papers. According to family members, his father operated a fish market in New York until his death from tuberculosis in 1914 in that city.

The family has related that his parents were very happy in their marital relationship, very hard-working, and industrious. Cohen has remarked that although he never knew his father, his mother always worked very hard until her recent years, when her age and infirmities would not permit. The parental home was characterized by his sister Pauline as being very religious with both parents keeping the Hebrew Sabbath strictly unto the letter.

Mickey was not yet two years old when his father passed away. She [his sister Pauline] recalls that the funeral took place at home, and that many friends came to the wailing ceremonies as was the custom of the church. The five children, with Mickey, the youngest, were present. According to the wife [Mickey’s mother] and his sister, Mickey did not speak much about loss of his father, but has always been sympathetic towards his mother. His only knowledge of him [Mickey’s father] being what he has been told.

Cohen, in relating his childhood, states he has been told that his mother had to borrow money to come to Los Angeles following his father’s death because of her health. Both his mother and his older brothers and sister are understood to have suffered severe privation during this time. He remembers that the other children were better educated than himself, through his father providing them an education. He, however, was denied this privilege, suggesting a feeling of being underprivileged in this respect in comparison with the others.

A photo of Cohen’s sister Lillian Weimer. Cohen maintained close ties with his family throughout his incarceration.

In his recollection, he relates closest to his sister Lillian, believing that this was circumstanced by her having to take care of him as a small child. His mother tried to work after her arrival in Los Angeles, to alleviate the dire financial circumstances he recounts in supporting the family. He stated that at a very early age—five or six years—he started to hustle papers for the now extinct “Record”, “Express”, and “Examiner” newspapers.

According to the family, during this period of Mickey’s early life the mother came to Los Angeles because of her health. For a period of about five years she was nervously ill, having a tension in the throat and a hoarseness of the voice, which was somewhat hysterical in nature. It is thought that she received some clinical treatment in Los Angeles after her arrival, when the condition left her as suddenly as it set in.

Pauline was nine years of age when little Mickey was made her responsibility. She remembers him as an easy child to manage, that he was toilet trained early, and walked and talked early. The home was kept immaculately clean with the example set by the mother. Both his wife and sister-in-law state that he is now fanatically clean about his person and everything about him. Probably impressed by this early training.

His mother relationship presented no complication of a prenatal nature, and he was loved and wanted, as were the other children. Due to economic stress, however, his mother did not have much time for Mickey during the impressionable age of mother-dependence. In experiencing her absence, a feeling of rejection and being unwanted is suggested. Emotional growth, lacking the father and—as far as can be determined at this time—no one in lieu of the father person, a picture of non-direction towards normal adjustment is suggested.

Cohen, at this time, relates that his next brother in age is about eleven years his senior. He remembers that he did not play or associate with any of his brothers during childhood, that he had to “fight his own way” particularly with the other young newsboys in the Boyle Heights district. Explaining these years, he recalls, “If you came from Los Angeles, you know Boyle Heights.” Through these years, by savings in being held by the older boys, Mrs. Cohen bought a small grocery and later a restaurant, working fourteen and fifteen hours a day.

Mickey was sent to school during this time, and remembers the school as a “special school”, possibly a school for retarded children, although this has not yet been verified. He states that he didn’t learn anything in regard to reading or writing, but in the company of twelve or fourteen other children, he drew pictures and made crafts. He whiled away the time, which he describes as irksome and distasteful.

At this time, evidencing pride and asking for approbation, he describes his efforts in recent years to teach himself spelling, letter writing, and arithmetic. He does not remember how far he progressed in school. His family does not remember his grade level, but he quit voluntarily at the age of ten with not much pressure brought to bear to induce him to continue other than by Pauline, who is indicated she tried to impress upon him the fact it was a bright boy and should learn some kind of trade. He had no trouble relating to his other schoolmates, but did break his leg when about eight or nine, causing him to miss school, possibly hindering him, and making him feel lost or not being accepted. He met the situation by giving up, possibly through a well-formulated pattern of insecurity in relation to society and the home situation.

Cohen states that he quit school to work to assist his mother. Through a newsboys group he early on became interested in boxing. He is unable to remember whether or how this activity was first directed, but he remembers taking part in newsboy exhibitions at a very early age. Developing this interest, possibly as an unrecognized outlet for childish insecurity and a need for recognition, he relates that he became more active in the newsboy boxing cards, which in turn supplemented his earnings.

Through the father, the other children had the early opportunity to receive training in the Hebrew school, with the sisters studying piano. Mickey did not have this advantage. He early learned the need for money and all it would bring, distorted by the disadvantages in the home situation.

At about the time he quit school the other children had left the home, and he continued to sell newspapers on the corner of Soto and Brooklyn Avenues. From that time until about the age of fourteen he made a name for himself in his boxing activities in the Newsboys Association in Los Angeles, recalling with pride that he often made as much as twenty dollars a fight, often being placed on cards held at bootlegging clubs.

Cohen states that he went to Cleveland through the Newsboys Association, where he continued in boxing. His sister-in-law, Mrs. Harry Cohen, relates that she and her husband started him out when he first came to Cleveland and tried hard to help him. Harry was a fight promoter at the time in that city. While Cohen did not relate this situation, he has mentioned that he worked in Harry’s drugstore as a soda jerk, and points out that he first boxed as an amateur and later turned professional.

Much of his time was spent hanging around the gymnasiums, which were habituated by workout pugs, gamblers, and hangers-on. While at first financially successful, the advent of the Depression soon placed him at his wits and in making a living. At that time, and possessing no education and lacking any skills other than boxing, the activities he relates became more directed towards gambling, a field he states nearly every “pug” takes up when he’s with boxing. He relates that he became identified with the group of other similarly circumstanced boxers who did know where their next meal was coming from. While boxing, it is reported that he became advent for newspaper publicity whether good or bad. This trait of personality seems to remain with him.

During this time, he also gave money to his mother for her support, as well as for her pleasures. At this writing, it is not yet known whether other family relations were close or what part his brother Harry may have played in his activities. The agency suggests that we might well wonder how much of his delinquencies his family has helped him cover up through their acceptance of him as a person who is generous, charitable, and self-sacrificing.

Cohen relates that his first difficulty with the law occurred in the company of some other unemployed boxers with whom he associated. In recounting the incident to the US Probation Officer, Cohen stated that he had formed the habit of hanging around a certain restaurant where occasionally the manager would tear up a small meal ticket for them. A scheme was developed where the manager would turn over the contents of the till to them, claiming he had been robbed. Carrying through with the plan, he was found out, and made a confession. Cohen, placed on two years probation for his part, subsequently made restitution for about $140.00. Going to Chicago, Cohen relates that he continued his gambling activities and became further identified with the underworld.

His appearance on the Los Angeles scene took place in 1939. The prosecuting agency—in reporting his activities and their development from this time—reports that he has been the focal point of numerous police investigations. The most recurrent offenses appear to be brutal assaults on persons who did not agree with the business methods he outlined. Public expenditures of funds in investigating and prosecuting Cohen (and his subordinates) over a period of thirteen years would total several hundred thousand dollars.

Cohen’s record in the Los Angeles area from November, 1939—according to the prosecuting agency—shows that he was arrested by the Los Angeles Police at a bookmaking place that he was operating and was charged with robbery. He was released on November 15, 1939. In May of 1940, he was arrested by the police for assault with a deadly weapon and for vagrancy, and was released with the charges being dismissed on June 24, 1940. In November of the same year he was again arrested by the police for further investigation and released on November 14th.

Lavonne Weaver Cohen

Cohen married Lavonne Weaver Cohen, alias Simoni King, in October of that year. Records indicate that she became a prostitute at the age of fourteen and according to the Chief of Police of Los Angeles, was reported to have operated in Honolulu as a prostitute and also a madam. Her foul language—evidenced in Dictaphone recordings in the police department’s possession—as well as her language and actions in the presence of officers of the department, has tended to substantiate her background as a prostitute.

Cohen was again arrested by the Los Angeles Police Department in February of 1941 for bookmaking and on July 11th he was convicted and received a 6-month sentence and a $100 fine, serving his time at the Los Angeles County Honor Farm. Following his release he was again arrested in September 1941 and held for questioning in connection with the attempted murder of Benny Gamson, while under appeal bond on the former offense.

In July 1942 he was arrested by the Los Angeles Police for cutting the telephone wires of a racing wire concern, after beating the owner of the services. In February 1943 he was permitted to plead guilty to a lesser misdemeanor and was fined $200, which he paid. During the next month he was arrested by the police for shooting craps and was fined five dollars. Arrested by the San Francisco police in September 1944 and charged with vagrancy, he was permitted to forfeit $1,000 bail and leave town.

In May 1945, he was arrested in Los Angeles for shooting and killing Maxie Shaman, a competitive bookie, in a bookie joint owned by Cohen. He admitted the shooting and though there were no direct witnesses, he alleged that he acted in self-defense. A complaint was refused by the Los Angeles County District Attorney’s Office, his gun was returned to him, and he was released. He has since bragged to intimates that it cost him $40,000 to escape this charge of murder.

In November of the same year he was arrested by the Los Angeles police on a charge of robbery at a gambling place owned by him. The complaint was refused by the Los Angeles County District Attorney, and he was released on November 19th. He was again arrested by the Los Angeles police in January 1946 on a bookmaking charge; the case was dismissed on February 6th. Cohen, in May 1946, was one of the suspects questioned and released in the unsolved homicide of Paul Gibbons, a bookie competitor and hoodlum. The investigation made by the Beverly Hills Police Department notes that it was rumored at the time that Gibbons was the person who had broken into Cohen’s home on June 16, 1944. At the time it was the underworld conversation that Cohen had obtained the services of Benny “Meatball” Gamson and George Levinson, two known police characters, to do away with Gibbons. Gamson’s car was placed at the scene of the crime and he was arrested in a complaint asked from the District Attorney’s Office, which was refused, and he was released.

Levinson, also taken in custody, obtained an attorney to represent him but the police were unable to interview him for two days after the killing and then only in the presence of his attorney. Cohen was interrogated and he volunteered information that Gibbons was a stool pigeon for law enforcement officers and had double-crossed several members of the underworld. Cohen states that Gibbons was a welcher and was an employee of the Shannon brothers, also known as a Shaman, who Cohen had killed the preceding year.

With Gibbons’ elimination, Gamson and Levinson acquired a reputation amongst the underworld as killers, and it was reported that they had been given the assignment to eliminate Cohen by rival gamblers. Cohen found out that they had an apartment at a Los Angeles address. On October 3, 1946, both Gamson and Levinson were killed there. It was the general conversation amongst the underworld that Cohen had these gunmen liquidated. The Beverly Hills Police kept him under surveillance constantly, questioning him and his guests at frequent intervals, as he returned home early in the mornings until he finally moved to West Los Angeles.

In June 1947, Cohen was one of the suspects questioned and released in the unsolved homicide of Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel and afterwards took over part of Siegel’s interests. He was again questioned in August 1948, as one of the suspects and was released in the unsolved homicide of his bodyguard Harry “Hookey” Rothman, and the wounding of two members of Cohen’s gang, Albert Snyder, and James Risk in Cohen’s place of business. Rothman had been on the downgrade through the use of drugs for several years prior to the shooting and Cohen had come to distrust him. He had a severe beating administered to Rothman for throwing his weight around at the Del Mar Track. After the shooting Snyder left town and was last reported in Pittsburgh.

Cohen in September of 1957 berating the Los Angeles Police Chief Clinton Anderson. Anderson had jailed Cohen on a charge of violating an ordinance requiring ex-convicts to register with police. After this episode, Anderson had Cohen arrested again for disturbing the peace.

In March 1949, Cohen and several of his gang were charged with conspiracy, assault with a deadly weapon, and obstructing justice in the beating of a Mr. Pearson. He was acquitted after a trial on March 7, 1950. On July 20, 1949, Niddie Herbert was shot in front of a restaurant on the Sunset Strip, dying six days later. Cohen was wounded in the shoulder and in all probability was the prime target. Harry Cooper, an investigator for the attorney general’s office and Dee David, a call girl were also wounded. Herbert had taken over “Hookey” Rothman’s job with Cohen after Rothman’s killing. A prior attempt had been made on his life at his home on June 22nd.

The common opinion was that Cohen was behind the shooting in an endeavor to teach Herbert a lesson, Herbert having hidden Collins’ bullet-ridden car in his garage while the investigation was being conducted by the sheriff’s offices. Information about the hiding of the car leaked out approximately 2 weeks after the investigation started. Early in August 1949, David Ogul and Frank Niccoli, two of Cohen’s henchmen, disappeared. They were under indictment with Cohen and five of his hoodlums for assaulting a local businessman who had bookmaking connections. Ogul and Niccoli’s testimony probably would have made the case against Cohen and the other defendants. Cohen was acquitted after the disappearance. At the time of this incident he was trying to smear the police department in a political maneuver by involving them in the case, the attempt being unsuccessful.

Cohen’s home on Morino Drive in Los Angeles.

One of many failed assassination attempts on Cohen’s life. Adversaries bombed Cohen’s home in February of 1950. He is pictured here poking fun at the situation when he commented to reporters: “Them bastards ruined one of my best suits.”

Cohen’s Attorney, Samuel Rummel, was killed with a shotgun in front of his home in Los Angeles on December 11, 1950. He had been Cohen’s attorney for years, but it was known that they had been in disagreement for several months prior to the killing. Cohen’s home at 513 Morino Drive, Los Angeles was bombed on February 6, 1950, which was indicative of the violence surrounding his activities. Residents in the vicinity have petitioned the City Council to have Cohen evicted for public safety reasons.

The Los Angeles Police reports that Cohen’s life story was run in serial form by the Los Angeles Daily News in 1949, which is indicative of the great amount of public interest in his case. His connection with organized crime has been apparent for many years. His contacts and quite possibly his superiors in the underworld include Frank Costello in New York, Anthony Milano in Akron, a member of the Mafia, Jack Dragna of Los Angeles, Mafia chief of the West Coast, and many others of similar background. The list of his gang members, at least some of the members, has been furnished the institution by the prosecuting agency.

According to the prosecuting agency, he has handled betting transactions with many of the biggest betting commissioners in all parts of the states, but acquired a reputation as a welcher. His haberdashery in Los Angeles operated as a blind for his activities, featured a bulletproof steel door, a bulletproof sedan, and a nominal amount of actual sales. Despite his record of professional gangsterism and his intimate association with repeated acts of violence, Cohen has a reputation for aiding needy persons and causes, and for generosity for his friends and relatives.

He is obsessed with a craving for publicity and fine living, indicative by his announcing immediately after he was sentenced for income tax evasion that he planned to write a story of his life as the subject of a motion picture.

Cohen appeared on Mike Wallace’s evening television show Night Beat in May of 1957. He lambasted the Los Angeles Police Department for their conduct and harassment claiming he had taken the road to reform.

“I have killed no men... who in the first place didn’t deserve killing.” Cohen to Wallace.

At this time, Cohen relates that he is been trying to remove himself from his gambling and other illegal interests. He states that this has been brought home to him through his family. His family reports that within the last two years since meeting evangelist Billy Graham, he has shown a sincere interest in religion. His personality has been summarized by his wife and sister as one that takes pride in doing the job well, would rather take the beating, and didn’t want to see another person being hurt in any way. If he witnessed crowd violence or a fight or group activity he would not make a scene by being different or making an issue, but rather keep hands off.

He is not quick to report the errors of others. His wife cited that one time she was having dinner with him at a restaurant when the waiter spilled food on a new suit that he was wearing. Rather than have the man lose his job, he had the suit cleaned. He has also been charitable toward the needy. His wife stated that he sent a considerable sum to Palestine and states that the church officials there have asked him to come to Palestine, which she indicates that she would like to do and that they make so.

The family feels that he is not handicapped because of his lack of education or that Cohen himself feels handicapped because of it, but that he has studied privately to better himself. If he is felt about this he has succeeded well in covering up this wish. They consider his personality winning, that he makes a good salesman, and that everybody likes him because he is kind and considerate. He wants most to be liked by others, and seems to have succeeded in gaining this desire.

The agency reports that it is fortunate for him that he has a family who will stand by him and help him upon release. The wife is now being assisted by relatives, and he can come home to the apartment which his sister Pauline and her husband have furnished. The agency reports that the furnishings are elaborate but lend a homey atmosphere.

PRESENT CIRCUMSTANCES:

Cohen’s wife states that she has plans for herself in the sales field and is eager to start work so that her husband can carry on upon his release. She is interested in him studying while at this institution, and that he should be given some work assignment involving keeping accounts because he would have a great deal to contribute in that field. Possible plans include returning to the clothing business, or Cohen may consider assisting Billy Graham in his evangelistic work.

Mention was made to the agency of the fact that Cohen has close ties to his brother, Harry who is planning to move to Chicago soon. Cohen relates that his gunshot wound has caused him considerable trouble and that he was under the care of Doctor Zeiler in Los Angeles, and is receiving treatment. He relates that his arm occasionally becomes numb due to a nerve injury.

He has received encouraging letters from his family. A small amount of fan mail has also been received, which has been returned to non-correspondence because of the eccentric nature. Cohen states that he is fearful because of the attempts on his life, and will endeavor to keep himself in the background while here. He states that he has had some difficulty in warding off the attention of others, while at the same time trying to avoid offending. He has written to his wife and his sister Pauline to contact his attorney, Morris Lavine, in appealing to the sentencing judge for sentence reduction by dropping his pending appeal. He believes that if he doesn’t get bond, his appeal would be foolish.

Cohen sitting in a U.S. Marshal vehicle at the Fort Mason boat pier waiting for the Alcatraz ferry. He is seen reading the book “The Big Bankroll,” a novel based on the life of the late gambler Arnold Rothstein. Dock workers heckled Cohen as he boarded the ferry yelling: “No Champaign for this trip” and “Look at Mickey’s last yacht.”

Mickey being escorted by an Alcatraz officer to the Alcatraz launch.

ALCATRAZ AND AFTER

Cohen served his time quietly at Alcatraz and was considered a model inmate. He worked in the clothing room located in the downstairs basement section of the prison, the same area where Al Capone and Whitey Bulger had held similar job assignments. Cohen would later write in his 1975 memoir In My Own Words:

This Alcatraz is unbelievable in the United States of America... You couldn’t believe the treachery in this place. It was a crumbling dungeon. Like you see in the motion pictures with water dripping down from the ceiling. In Alcatraz, you were sitting in the middle of the ocean. At no time did you ever get away from the clamminess. I don’t remember ever being warm there... I was in charge of the clothing room, which gave me access to take a shower twice or three times a day, or at least once a day for sure – which was the thing that saved my life...

Cohen seen being released from Alcatraz in October of 1961. He was freed on a $100,000 bond appeal, but it would prove to be short-lived. He would return to Alcatraz in May of 1962.

Frankie Carbo arrived at Alcatraz in 1962 and served alongside Cohen. A known enforcer and New York City Mafia solider for outfits like Murder, Inc. and the infamous Lucchese Family, Carbo was rumored to have planned the 1947 murder of Bugsy Siegel in Hollywood, California, one of Cohen’s closest associates. James “Whitey” Bulger who served on Alcatraz with Cohen and Carbo remembered: “Mickey would walk the yard sometimes and talk to Carbo - but only casual talk, not real friendly.”

“When I had to eat the joint’s food, it wasn’t too bad. See, Tony Marcello - String Bean was his nickname - had charge of the kitchen. He was a good cook, all Italian guys are. So every day I ate there, he’d say to me, ‘What do you feel like eating? What should I cook today?’ And then he had a menu thing done with chaulk put up so you could see it when you walked into the cafeteria. So like after Frank Carbo come there, String Bean put on the menu, Frank Carbo Day - Spaghetti. Then when he’d make corned beef, he’d put Mickey Cohen Day - Kosher Corned Beef. He was a character. He died in my arms later at the Springfield joint.”

Crime mogul James “Whitey” Bulger remembered: “When Mickey arrived he was the talk of Alcatraz. Cohen celled next to Ianelli, a friend of mine from outside Chicago. Mickey was a heavy, loud snorer, and drove Ianelli nuts. Big “I” would bang on Mickey Cohen’s wall and scream “Wake up you fucking Meyer... Roll over!” Ianelli’s rant would resonate throughout the Alcatraz cellhouse. “Mickey was a proud little guy and a survivor. He was very well liked by all the guys at Alcatraz...”

Alcatraz Officer Jim Albright (pictured here at an Alcatraz reunion event in 2012) offered many memories about guarding Cohen. One of those he later recounted in his personal memoir Last Guard Out: “Sam Tiblow kept a pet mouse on a chain and the mouse would sit on his shoulders. He kept it in his cell and carried it under his coat collar. The mouse went missing and was presumed dead. Sam’s cell was next to Mickey’s cell; and Cohen, being a neat freak and not particularly fond of mice, was afraid the mouse would get in his cell at night [Cohen allegedly lined books against the bars at the front of his cell to keep rodents out]. Thus, was a contract put out on the mouse or was this another escape from Alcatraz?”

Cohen’s cell (B-226) on the second tier of B-Block. He was living in this cell during the famous 1962 Alcatraz escape of Frank Morris and the Anglin brothers which took place along the very same corridor.

Cohen was transferred to USP Atlanta in January 1963, only a couple of months prior to the closure of Alcatraz. On August 14, 1963, fellow Atlanta inmate Berl McDonald—who had served time on Alcatraz with Cohen—escaped a secure prison compound, entered an electronics repair training facility, and wielding a three-foot iron pipe, snuck up from behind Cohen. He bludgeoned the unsuspecting Mickey into unconsciousness. Cohen recounted the attack:

“I was in the television room watching the noon news program with my back towards the corridor. I don’t know if the fucking building fell on me or what happened, and the next thing I know, I came outa the coma I had been in for two weeks.”

Berl Estes McDonald

McDonald escaped this secure compound at USP Atlanta, scaled a 10-foot wall and entered the television repair shop where he attacked the unsuspecting Cohen while he was seated watching a newscast. Cohen and McDonald had served time together on Alcatraz.

Cohen sustained a critical head injury that resulted from the shards of skull fragments that had to be removed from his brain tissue. He underwent extensive neurosurgery and following a two-week coma, doctors inserted a steel plate to replace the mangled bone fragments in the rear region of his skull.

On January 6, 1972, Cohen was released from Atlanta and returned to Hollywood. He had been misdiagnosed with an ulcer, which turned out to be stomach cancer. Though he survived the brutal attack without any known mental deficits, he would be completely disabled for the remainder of his life. He spent his final years in solitude.

Mickey Cohen died peacefully in his sleep in a posh Los Angeles apartment in 1976 at the age of 62. He was interred at the Hillside Memorial Park and Cemetery in Culver City, California.

* * *

DEAN JENNINGS

TIBURON, CALIFORNIA

June 3, 1958

Mr. David M. Heritage, Warden

McNeil Island Penitentiary

Washington

Dear Mr. Heritage:

I have been commissioned by the Saturday Evening Post to do a three-part study on Mickey Cohen. The purpose of this series is not to glamorize Cohen, but rather to examine all of the circumstances that had made him what he is, and to ask the question: how does he get away with it?

Last week, for instance, during one of my interviews with Mickey, he said:

1. The prison guard carried money for him and that he used this money to buy certain favors and privileges.

2. That he, Cohen, was permitted to telephone his wife frequently, and that the privilege not granted to most prisoners.

3. That he was able to have his favorite delicacy brought into the prison whenever he wanted, which was often.

4. That he was permitted to be a host at parties or social gatherings for other Jewish inmates.

5. That his own personal cook was allowed to send him cakes and cookies from Los Angeles.

6. That he was permitted to take showers for 30 or 40 minutes. As you may know, this is one of Mickey’s idiosyncrasies and now at home he remains in the shower for 90 minutes.

7. That he was allowed to change clothing four times a day, as he did before he went to prison.

Many of Mickey’s statements have been evaluated by a former McNeil Guard named Don Gaertner, who is now living in Los Angeles. Mickey says that he persuaded Gaertner to give up his job at the prison and come to California. He says that he helped Gaertner get started in the insurance business because Gaertner was good to him at McNeil.

Undoubtedly, the administration of McNeil was not aware of these goings-on, and I would be most grateful for any comments you care to make. I am especially interested, of course, in knowing how Mickey arranged all of these things.

At the moment, Mickey is repeating that way of life, the mistakes and the offenses for which he was sent to McNeil back in 1951. But this time he seems to have baffled both the Los Angeles police and the federal government, and evidently has found a way to the close up the loopholes.

We are interested in determining how he manages to thumb his nose at both the public and the law, and I have already found some answers. You are welcome to call Ben Hibbs, editor of the Saturday Evening Post, and confirm the assignment on which I’m working. I have already written a similar letter to Warden Wilkinson at Atlanta who, I understand, was the Warden at McNeil during most of the time when Mickey was there.

Sincerely yours,

Dean Jennings

* * *

June 12, 1958

Mr. James V. Bennett, Director

Attached is letter received from Dean Jennings who describes himself as a writer and who plans an article for the Saturday Evening Post. I might comment on the items Mr. Jennings quotes Mickey on:

1. I have no knowledge, nor do I have any rumor, of a guard having carried money for Cohen, although one of our officers did report that one of Cohen’s visitors attempted to give him $100 during a visit.

2. Cohen was not permitted any special privileges on the telephone and I don’t recall him ever using the phone to call his wife.

3. He was able to buy ice cream the same as any other prisoner, as it was sold in the commissary.

4. He never “hosted” parties or social gatherings for other Jewish inmates. He was allowed to attend Passover dinners in connection with Jewish religious holidays, the same as other Jewish inmates.

5. I am sure that cakes and cookies from his “own personal cook” in Los Angeles were never received.

6. He would like to have taken long showers, and our shower procedure is not regimented to the extent that men are forced out after one or two minutes. He had no more shower privileges than any other man, although I recall a complaint he made on one occasion when one officer turned off the hot water to convince Cohen that shower time was over.

7. He was not given more work clothing than any other inmate.
I had never heard of the officer, Don Gaertner, until I received Mr. Jennings letter but I did find a card on him that shows that he was employed as a correctional officer on February 12, 1951 and resigned on January 3, 1953. Possibly he is the one who carried Cohen’s money, if anyone did.

I will not reply to Mr. Jennings letter unless I hear from your office.

D.M. Heritage

Warden

* * *

September 26, 1961

Dear Warden Madigan,

I want to thank you for my visit with Meyer Harris Cohen on September 22nd. Mr. Cohen’s brother, Harry, was also visiting him at that time and therefore I had little opportunity to visit with him myself. I would appreciate it very much if it would be possible for me to see him for another day, and also on my next visit. Even though I was very happy to see Mr. Cohen, it was hardly worth the time and expense it took me, since I only had a fraction of the two hours to visit with him myself. I would appreciate anything you can suggest or do to help this matter.

I will be able to visit Mr. Cohen again on October 13th and 14th. I request permission to visit him on either or both of these days. Whichever is convenient on your calendar.

Thank you very much for your time and trouble. It is sincerely appreciated.

Sincerely,

Claretta Hashagen

* * *

September 29, 1961

Dear Miss Claretta Hashagen:

We have your letter of September 26, 1961 with reference to visiting arrangements with Meyer Cohen, and in which you state you would like permission to visit him on either October 13th or 14th.

For your information, the rules and regulations as set forth in so far as visiting privileges for inmates at this institution are concerned; permit only one visit per month. We can appreciate your concern over visiting at the same time as other members of Mr. Cohen’s family, however to permit Mr. Cohen more than one visit per month would not be fair to the other inmates in this institution. Therefore, it must be understood if we grant permission for you to visit on October 13th, no other visits may be scheduled for Mr. Cohen for the month of October. It would be appreciated if you would consult with the members of Mr. Cohen’s family and determine just what arrangements can be made convenient to all concerned. Perhaps arrangements could be made whereby you could visit one month and they visit the next. Please advise.

Sincerely,

O.G. Blackwell

Warden

* * *

October 2, 1961

Dear Warden Blackwell,

I received your letter in answer to mine concerning visitation with Mr. Meyer Cohen. I will write Mr. Cohen’s brother, Harry, and asked him if I may see Mr. Cohen this month; and if he will visit with him for the month of November. I am certain he will be more than cooperative.

Mr. Blackwell, I will therefore make definite arrangements to visit Mickey on the thirteenth of this month. Would you kindly send me a pass for this date?

Mr. Blackwell, your cooperation, time, and effort to answer my letter so promptly and sincerely has certainly been appreciated. Thank you for my pass in advance.

Thank you so much,

Sincerely,

Claretta Hashagen

* * *

Following the brutal attack by McDonald in August of 1963, Cohen was unable to walk without an aid and was rarely ever seen in public.

Friday, May 17, 1963

From: Meyer Harris Cohen (Michael Mickey Cohen)

To: United States Atty. Gen. Robert Kennedy

Dear Sir:

I am sort of taking it for granted sir, that my first letter reached you? Since my transfer from Alcatraz, which allows no newspapers, it truly has been a treat and a privilege to once again be able to read our country’s daily newspapers.

But I must enclose a couple of more newspaper items of the past few days to add to the ones I enclosed in my first letter. These newspaper items are not to turn one’s stomach, and make one so bitter that he must lose his proper perspective. Certainly Sir, there couldn’t have been this much of a difference in my class of citizenship, than some of the other persons convicted of some type of tax offense, only to be lucky enough to draw another judge to be tried before.

My sentence of fifteen years, at my age of sixty, without even giving me the benefit of an “a” number, seems so unjust, unfair, and un-American next to the sentences that have been given to others for the same offense, such as straight out fines, or misdemeanor types of prison sentences, that I just can’t believe, Mr. Bob Kennedy, after speaking with you on three occasions, that you are going to hold still, or uphold this kind of uneven justice. Not for my judgment of you and your sense of fair play.

Sincerely and humbly,

Mickey Cohen

James “Whitey” Bulger, AZ-1428

Looking Back...

James “Whitey” Bulger

James Joseph “Whitey” Bulger, Jr. is an organized crime figure from South Boston, Massachusetts. Bulger began his sentence for armed robbery at USP Atlanta in 1956 and was transferred to Alcatraz in November 1959. In July 1962, he was transferred to USP Leavenworth.

Bulger’s story is complex and the mysteries around him continue to unfold. For his story is not that of a typical crime convention. He spoke the language of an old South Boston neighborhood. Bulger thrived in a world that had fallen into moral shreds, where violence and corruption permeated. He would become a notorious crime boss, rising to the highest echelon of Boston’s criminal syndicate. Life Magazine described him as a modern day Al Capone, known for his measure and balance in managing one of America’s largest criminal enterprises. Time Magazine wrote in part:

James Bulger’s story reads like the plot of a thousand mobster films. An Irish-American boy grows up in the poor neighborhood of South Boston — Southie — turns to a life of crime and ends up leader of the Irish Mob. Smart, charismatic and generous to those he liked, Bulger — whose blond hair earned him the nickname Whitey — was both feared and revered. At the height of his power ... he was allegedly taking a share of almost every drug and racketeering operation in Boston.

Bulger became as much a symbol as a man; depicted as a Robin Hood-style outlaw dedicated to protecting the neighborhood and its residents. Bulger allegedly masterminded a protection racket that targeted drug kingpins and those running illegal gambling operations.

For his ability to evade the law, Bulger rose to the top of the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted Fugitive list. He was finally captured in Santa Monica, California, on June 11, 2011. Following his arrest, federal prosecutors indicted Bulger for 19 murders.

EARLY YEARS

During his incarceration prior to his trial in June 2013, Bulger engaged in an extensive interview with the author of this book. These very brief excerpts from those interviews offer Bulger’s firsthand memories and insight into the experiences that lead him into crime:

I received my nickname “Whitey” when I was just a young kid. I had real white hair that started way back, long into my youth. The cops would see a few of us and chase us off the street corners. I was usually the most identifiable, and therefore became their focus. The merchants would give these cops gifts for their efforts to keep us away from their storefronts. A bottle of whiskey was the usual gift. Boston had laws back then that it was illegal for stores to sell alcohol on Sundays and holidays.

The local druggist was my archenemy, and he often sold booze illegally. The cops were on the take; they were rewarded for looking the other way. This was good for the druggist as he had a brisk business. But despite this, he always had a big car, lived in a wealthy neighborhood, and offered “credit” to the poor folks (essentially everyone in the projects), then charged top dollar and cheated everyone that he could. As an example, if hard candy was two for a penny (few kids had as much as a penny during the Depression) and the kid was young, he would give the kid one piece. I caught him doing this more than once. Also, milk came in glass bottles and the cream would rise to the top. The druggist would take all of the cream off of each bottle and use the cream in a big stainless steel machine to make ice cream, then sell the milk, less the cream, to people at regular price.

I could see all of this happening at a young age and I deeply resented it. I felt that the druggist was a lowlife and was stealing from good people in our neighborhood. These were hard working people and many were down on their luck. They didn’t deserve the hand that they were being dealt and they didn’t have any recourse. It was no wonder that the druggist could drive a new Buick Roadmaster. It was tragic, considering that only one person on my block had a car and it was an old beat-up Dodge. So on top of this, he would chase the kids off the corner, like he owned the neighborhood. My friends and I would defy him, and his brother and wife would mutter slurs like “Dirty Irish.” I was stubborn and would argue and engage with them.

More than once, he paid cops to grab me and give me a beating. Two cops, one of whom was known as “Red”, once grabbed me, put me in their police car, and then drove me over to the city dump. It’s now the site of the John F. Kennedy library. They’d threaten me with a beating every time they saw me if I didn’t stay off the corner, and proceeded to slap and punch me, and also inflict pain by using a club across my legs, and deliver hard kicks. Then they they’d drive off, leaving me to walk home.

I’d run back and then the other kids would tell me that Red came back, entered the drugstore, and went into the back room. His meeting was likely to deliver the news about what they did to me. He’d come out smiling, and we figured that he was rewarded for my beating. I later threw two sidewalk bricks through the druggist’s window and from that moment on, Red was always on the prowl trying to get me. We all ran from the cops because they would rough us up if they caught you.

Often the cops would park around my house and get me when I was coming in. I’d run or come over the rooftops, and it was a game for the cops. Years later, we would stone them from the roof. And if they saw five or ten of us they would holler, “We’ll get you Whitey,” because my white hair stood out.

There were no rights for the poor back then. Cops would kick doors down, drag you down to the police station, and give you a good rough beating. In the rich neighborhoods, cops would knock on the doors gently, speak softly, and then look forward to their Christmas gifts. It’s just like I’ve been quoted in the media many times with the statement: “Christmas is for cops and kids.” I saw many a person clubbed down into a bloody pulp by cops for just being drunk and not moving fast enough. I know about more than one kid who was shot to death for almost nothing.

On a hot summer night, my mother and her friends were sitting out on the doorstep; we witnessed cops chasing a “stolen car”, shooting at it, and the kid driving was probably only fifteen or sixteen years old. He jumped out and started running, and then was shot in the back and he collapsed. The cops ran up and start clubbing and kicking him and all of the neighbors started screaming at them to stop. The kid’s name was Danny Cummings. It happened all the time in those days.

I saw a little kid in a stolen pickup truck drive into Columbus Park. The cops were stretched out sleeping on a park bench in the dark, and the kid drove by the cops. The cops sprung up and started screaming “Stop” and then they fired their guns into the back of a truck, hitting the kid in the back of the head and killing him instantly.

We ran up and looked inside the truck. We knew this little boy. He was undernourished and went by the name “Mousey McDonough.” He was curled-up in a pool of blood with a little cardboard box full of French fries next to him. The cop was pulling on his jacket and pacing around while getting his alibi straight. When the others arrived I overheard him comment, “He tried to run me over and I had to fire at him to save my life.” He was a liar, but the cops ruled the streets in those days.

Later, they arrested me in an ice cream parlor with three of my friends, hollering inappropriate insults at me, and saying “Whitey you’re under arrest” for no other reason than they had seen me at the crime scene when they shot Mousey. They put me in a paddy wagon and then a young couple came up and politely asked the cops if they could take me home as they knew my mother. The cops arrested the woman for assault because she touched the cop’s arm to get his attention, and then if that wasn’t bad enough, they arrested her husband for “interfering.” Gallant was the name of the young couple.

When we got to Station 6 in South Boston they let the couple out and kept me in the paddy wagon in the garage until after they were booked. They wanted them secure in their jail cells so they couldn’t witness what was coming next for me. The cops formed a gauntlet and then said, “Come on Whitey.” I was led out of the paddy wagon and then had to make it through them as they delivered kicks and punches - hardly any pain as they were eager to get in each other’s way. They systematically delivered punches and kicks, and then struck me on top of my head with a heavy phone book. Painful, but it left no marks. If you complained they’d tell the judge that you resisted arrest, and of course the judge was usually an ex-cop.

The worst beating of my life was given by a drunken cop who took me down into a project basement off the street, where another cop was down there drinking booze at a desk about ten o’clock at night. It was only the three of us there. The cop’s name was McDonough (he was a young guy) and he started to beat me with the club across my legs and with his fists. He put me down with his kicks, knees to the face, and then held me by my hair. McDonough was beating me fiercely, screaming and cursing, and I could smell the booze and knew that he was drunk.

The bastard spit in my face, which was the worst part of it. He took the polished hardwood club (which was a little over a foot long with a hole drilled in it and filled with lead) and screamed “I’m gonna put your nose all over your face, pretty boy.” As he came down with the club, I put my arm over to protect my face and I felt a sharp pain and a flash of white light in my head. I felt numb and fractured my arm.

Then he took out his thirty-eight revolver, put it in my mouth, shutting it down my throat, and cocked it. I swear I heard two clicks and then heard him screaming. “I will blow your fucking brains out.” I thought that I was going to die and because I wasn’t in a police station, I thought this bastard was going to kill me. The other cop rushed over and hollered “Stop, you’ll kill him.” At this point I was numb, and the cop straddled me on the ground and spit in my face again. I vowed then that I would kill him if I got out of there alive. I can still picture his face, how tall he was, and that whole night is still vivid in my memory.

From there they carried me out of the basement. They shoved and kicked me down through the back of the project (Old Colony) out onto the lighted street. I collapsed right in the middle of the street. The cops stayed in the shadows. A motorist picked me up and I wound up in the Boston City Hospital Emergency Room. A cop holding a clipboard walked in and asked me what happened? I told him I was cutting through Columbia Park and was jumped by some guys who beat me up.

Things like that went on for a while. To rat out a cop was against the grain for most of the guys. I had a German Luger 9mm and looked for McDonough to take revenge on him, but I never saw him in Southie again. I suspect the other cop may have reported him or that neighbors who lived upstairs in the building may have said something. I was too young then to be paying cops off.

Of course, years later “money talked,” and all the information could be purchased if the seller was convinced the buyer would never betray him. In fact, the cops all knew well who would and wouldn’t talk, because they were put to the test in Station 6’s famous “Blue Room,” the name for their interrogation room. I had a serious session in there with two detectives whose specialty was working guys over and getting confessions. They failed in my case, even after causing me much pain and blood.

It’s a long story, but from my earliest years I never trusted cops, and I hated them. All those years and days were stressful. Years later when I rose up, they each wanted a piece of the action. And that’s the system for you.

The 1945 motion picture Dillinger, staring Lawrence Tierney, was described by Bulger as a favorite film of his youth, and that Dillinger was a hero to the kids growing up in the tough projects of South Boston.

Another thing ... when I was a kid, I loved all of those old crime movies and the “bad guys” like Cagney, Bogart, Edward G. Robinson, and George Raft. Those men were the heroes to kids my age in the Projects. The 1940’s Dillinger film was one of my real favorite movies. Years later, Charlie Catalano and Tommy Devaney hit the bars raising hell with Lawrence Tierney (who played Dillinger in the film and later played the bald headed old gruff gangster in the film Reservoir Dogs) all over New York City. It was a really memorable night for all of us.

I did take some legitimate employment during my youth, but things never seemed to work out. I went on the road with the circus for a short period. The job paid $10.00 a week with a place to sleep and free meals. They had a big top and good food. I primarily did jobs like painting and putting performers up on floats and circus vehicles when they made their spectacular entrance with the loud music. They’d go around and circle inside the tent, then exit, and I’d help pick performers off the vehicles. I was really young at the time. The Lilliputian family—real little people who had beautiful teen daughters—would dress up (the males in fine tuxedos) and then the females would holler for me to take them down. I always did little jobs like feeding the animals, moving wardrobes, trucks, and equipment.

The workers were drunks, ex-cons, fugitives, thieves, perverts, and mental cases. They were the worst collection of flotsam and weirdoes under one huge tent. The sleeping train was filthy, loaded with drunks and fighters, so I slept in a tent on the lot. I kept my clothes and boots on—I had metal cleats on my heels—and I also had a spade in the trunk with me to keep safe. I finally hitchhiked home and went back to the streets.

James Bulger’s 1953 booking photo.

Excerpts from Bulger’s inmate case file at USP Atlanta chronicle the criminal activities that landed him his first federal prison sentence, and his eventual transfer to Alcatraz.

The United States attorney indicates that on May 17, 1955 Bulger—together with Donald Dermody and Carl Smith—participated in the armed robbery of the Industrial National Bank, Darlington branch, in Pawtucket, Rhode Island. In participating in this robbery, Bulger carried a .22 revolver and forced two employees of the bank to lie on the floor during the course of the robbery. The getaway from the robbery was accomplished by the use of a car stolen by the three participants just prior to the robbery. The amount stolen was $42,112.00.

On November 18, 1955, William L. O’Brien participated in the hold up of the Highland branch of the Melrose truck company, in Melrose, Massachusetts. Prior to the robbery they stole the car to be used in the getaway from a MTA parking lot in East Boston. They placed their switched cars in the parking lot of the Roosevelt school in Melrose and proceeded from there in the stolen car to the bank. Both O’Brien and Bulger were armed and took part in forcing the employees and customers in the bank to lie on the floor during the robbery. They left the bank in the stolen car and switched their own cars at the Roosevelt school in Melrose. The total amount stolen in this case was $5,035.

Then on November 23, 1955, Bulger, together with Richard R. Barchard, participated in the hold up of the Woodmar Branch of the Hoosier State Bank, in Hammond, Indiana. Bulger and Barchard set up the robbery of this bank earlier in the fall of 1955 and made the trip from Boston to Indiana on or about November 23, 1955 for the expressed purpose of accomplishing this robbery. Both Bulger and O’Brien entered the bank. Bulger held two pistols on the persons in the bank while Barchard, unarmed, took the cash out of the drawers.

Richard R. Barchard

Inmate’s Version of Present Offense

During the initial social interview Bulger stated that he was introduced to Carl Smith by an ex-convict and later encouraged to drive for Smith on some deal that he did not know about at the particular time. When he learned that this deal concerned a bank robbery he wanted to back out. He claims that he was even more afraid when he learned that he had to go into the bank and that two people previously involved had backed out.

Bulger stated that the bank robbery was successful, and that afterwards he was in on three more bank robberies. Eventually Smith was caught, after he robbed a bank with two men in Tennessee, then returned home and spent the money extravagantly. Bulger said that Smith “squealed on us” after he was caught.

Bulger states that he was caught in a nightclub in Revere, Massachusetts after being a fugitive for two months. He believes that a friend walked him into a trap. He states that he had dyed his hair and started dressing in contrast to his previous style of dressing.

Personal History and Family Background

This man is the second of six children and was born September 3, 1929 in Boston, Massachusetts. His father, James J. Bulger, Sr., was born in St. John, Newfoundland about sixty years ago. He is retired now, according to his mother, and is in good health. He was employed by the WPA. He was employed until recently as a watchman. He’s had no serious difficulty with the law. He was arrested for assault with a revolver in Roxbury, Massachusetts once, but the case was dismissed. The mother, Jean (McCarthy) Bulger, was born in Massachusetts about fifty years ago. She is in good health, and is a devoted mother and housewife.

The probation officer’s report indicates that this man has had very little to do with his parents. They were unable to control him during his early years. His companions were usually persons of poor reputation and far from a good influence upon him. He would associate with known thieves and ex-convicts.

His schooling consisted of attending both parochial and public schools in South Boston, Massachusetts. He had very little interest in school. He went for a short time to the Brandeis vocational school in the Ninth grade but then left to go into military service. While in the United States Military, he attended school and received a high school diploma.

As indicated above, this man has spent most of his time in local taverns, where he associated with known criminals. Although this was his first penitentiary sentence, it is indicated that he has always been willing to participate in any violations of the law, even if it meant using firearms to accomplish his goals. The police department records reveal episodes of juvenile delinquency and also that fines were paid as an adult for assault and larceny. This man was AWOL in the Army, but he received an honorable discharge.

Present Situation [1955]

Bulger is a twenty-six-year-old single native of Massachusetts with a legal residence in Boston, Massachusetts. He is serving twenty years for the robbery of an FDIC Bank. He has a possible murder charge indictment against him pending by the state of Indiana. He denies his guilt, although he is accused by alleged eyewitnesses who are also his co-defendants in an Indiana bank robbery. Bulger wrote an anxious letter to his brother about this charge, but it was difficult to tell whether he was bragging or complaining about the charge. Under any circumstances, he appears deeply concerned that such a warrant would affect his adjustment here.

This man has close family ties and there are other persons in the community who have shown some interest in his welfare. He wants to have training and typing here, and is thinking in terms of working his way into a clerical assignment.

PRISON

Bulger’s 1956 USP Atlanta mug shot.

On June 21, 1956, Bulger was convicted and sentenced to serve 20 years in a federal prison for armed robbery. He was sent to USP Atlanta. Bulger’s inmate case file shows that he was subjected to extreme testing through the Project MK-Ultra. MK-Ultra was the code name of a government covert research operation experimenting in the behavioral engineering of humans through the CIA’s Scientific Intelligence Division. The program began in the early 1950s, and employed many illegal activities; in particular it used unwitting convicts as its test subjects, which led to controversy regarding its legitimacy. MK-Ultra involved the use of many methodologies to manipulate people’s mental states and alter brain functions, including the surreptitious administration of drugs and other chemicals, hypnosis, sensory deprivation, isolation, as well as various forms of torture. For eighteen months, Bulger and eighteen other inmates—who had volunteered to lessen their sentences—were given LSD and other drugs and potent chemicals. Bulger later stated that he and the other inmates had been “recruited by deception.” Bulger remembered:

I am cursed because I volunteered for those Medical Research Projects in the Atlanta Penitentiary, one of which was run by Dr. Carl Pfeiffer of Emory University. The doctor was allegedly searching for a cure for schizophrenia. I was on this project for one year, and it was the worst year of my life. Two other volunteers went stark raving mad and psychotic. Benoit, Jennings, and others (myself included) wound up with residual effects. Since then, I have never had a good night’s sleep; my sleep is filled with violent nightmares and restless nights. When I finally made it to Alcatraz, I always had a cell with light coming through the roof of the cellhouse, so that I could use the natural light that shined through the bars to read at night. I’d lie awake for hours on end.

Documents from Bulger’s prison medical file shows the extensive and repeated LSD and chemical testing he was subjected to as part of the MK-Ultra Program.

The clinic at USP Atlanta where various medical experiments were conducted on resident inmates.

Percy “Jack” Geary, AZ-456

One of the worst experiences during the Project MK-Ultra experiments involved the death of a good friend named Jack Geary. As I recall, Jack’s real name Percy, and with a name like that, you learn to fight or become a punching bag. At a young age, after being arrested, a court official said to him “How could you commit these crimes? You have the face of an angel.” Because of this comment, the press gave him the name “Angel Face.” He really got a laugh out of telling that story.

I met Jack through Henry Reddington, a friend in Atlanta. He was a jolly, overweight, non-violent guy. After getting out of prison, he was taken captive in his house and tortured by a knife, and then shot to death. I was in prison when this took place. Later, the killer was shot a few times by a .38, which he survived. Even later, he was machine-gunned down and given a few pistol shots in the head for good measure. Jack and his gang— Jack Oley and McGlene and a couple of others—kidnapped for ransom a guy from Albany, New York (who was named O’Connell or something similar). The family was friends of the then-Governor Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

The New York State Police got the number on the gang, conducted a long torture session, put one of the gang into a burlap bag, cuffed him into a rowboat, floated the boat to the middle of a lake in the dark and threw him in-and-out of the water. Another gang member was tied up and hoisted up a flag pole by his feet. Two of the other gang members committed suicide. The same gang committed one of the biggest cash hold-ups on record, the robbery of a Brinks armored car carrying over $1 million. Jack was pushing a covered cart on the street and when the armored car door opened, he pulled out a Thompson submachine gun and got the drop on them. The money was from the Coney Island Collection.

Jack ran many stories by me when he was a patient in the hospital (which is where I worked at USP Atlanta). I spent a lot of time in his cubicle-like room. I’d buy a cigar for him and he’d cut it in halves and beam “Can’t Beat This!” He was always making the best of it. He liked to talk about the Good Old Days, such as the Hotsy Totsy Club, Legs Diamond in New York, and other old gangsters.

Then comes Dr. Brailler, a really incompetent swine and religious nut. He held services for the men in his office. Some cons played along by kissing ass, thereby hoping for an early parole. The doctor operated on Jack for gallbladder problems and screwed him up. He did a second surgery to correct it, but to no avail. Jack was left in deep pain and was vomiting. Dr. Brailler barred Jack from sick call; if he didn’t see Jack he could forget his mistake.

One day I was coming out of the mess hall and Jack was waiting for me. He told me he wanted to say goodbye and commented that I was a good friend. He was assigned to one of the large eight-man cells and said “I’m real sick and it disturbs the guys in the cell. I don’t like being a bother to anyone. I should have done this twenty years ago.” He told me that he was going to kill himself. I told him not to talk like that and that my friends were going over the wall and that I’d put him in on it.

He said he was too weak to make a break. I told him I’d carry him up the ladder and get him to the other side, but that he shouldn’t talk about suicide. I had to rush to check in for the MKUltra project, and couldn’t stay another minute. I told him I’d be out in 24 hours and that we’d figure something out. I told him “Just hang on.” He smiled and said “I’ll see you later.”

I rushed over to the hospital and was checked into the experiment room. I was injected with a syringe full of a chemical, which put me into a seven hour schizophrenic state, which was very frightening. I saw blood dripping from ceiling and the bars on windows turned into slithering snakes. I saw that the guy next to me had all of the flesh falling off his face. He turned into a skeleton.

The next thing that came into the hospital was a stretcher with blood soaking through the sheet and dripping onto the floor. I learned that Jack was under the sheet. Dr. Pfeiffer said to the other doctor, “I’d like to examine a piece of his brain to check for substances.” I grabbed Dr. Pfeiffer by the throat, screaming at the top of my lungs, and I started to choke him.

It took me a long while to get over that. You don’t meet many guys like old Jack in a lifetime. I wish he had made it to freedom.

Charlie Catalano (AZ-1381) was a close associate of Bulger’s, both inside and outside of prison. He had suffered a litany of personal misfortune and later killed his son—who was suffering from extreme drug abuse—and then turned the gun on himself. Bulger remembered: “Poor Charlie Catalano, he had such a hard life, full of disappoints. Charlie Catalano in prison made the best of it on the surface, but beneath, he was a volcano of anger and bitterness - he did a lot of time in his life. His mother was Irish, his father was Italian, and a singing waiter in an upscale Italian restaurant. Charlie and I were in a federal holding prison in West State New York. It was like a huge warehouse full of cells and a recreation area up on the roof. Charlie and I were cuffed together for a long ride to Atlanta, with a stopover in Petersburg Prison in Virginia. We became such good friends. I attended his wake, along with our mutual friend Tommy Devaney. Afterwards, we went across the street for a drink (a custom) and killer “Mad Dog” Sullivan stepped in and shot Tommy to death on an order from “Fat Tony” Salerno.

Louis Arquilla (AZ-1386) also continued a life of crime following his release from prison. Bulger recalled connecting with Arquilla on the outside while he was still doing bank heists and robbing armored cars. He met a violent end when he was first assassinated by the blast of a shotgun and then, finished off by a .38 pistol. He had suffered a turbulent childhood when his father murdered his mother and then turned the gun on himself in front of him and his brother. Bulger added: “Louie had a suicidal wish - success or death.”

John Paul Scott, AZ-1403 (left) a trusted friend of Bulger, is seen here with Darl Parker (right) as they are led to court for trial resulting from a failed escape attempt from Alcatraz in 1962. Scott had a long history of attempted escapes, which continued even after his release from Alcatraz.

While he was an inmate at Atlanta, Bulger—along with John Paul Scott (AZ-1403, who made one of the most successful, but short-lived escape attempts from the Rock), close associates Charlie Catalano (AZ-1381), Louis Arquilla (AZ-1386) and other convicts, plotted to escape from the prison hospital. Bulger refused to give up the name of the people who helped him acquire the hacksaw blades that were used to cut through the barred windows. This defiant Atlanta escape attempt earned Bulger his ticket to Alcatraz. Later, Bulger remembered:

Charlie, Louie, Scotty, and Jeep were able to cut the bars of the ward hospital window. Using a ladder made from pipe, they attempted to scale a 45-foot wall. At the weakest spot the ladder collapsed, and they had nowhere else to go. Warden Wilkerson was out there with a shotgun. There were other guards out there, and all of them were demanding that the convicts surrender or they would be shot. The inmates told the guards “After we have this last cigarette we will come down. We know that this will be our last cigarette for a long time.” We were so close. Fortunately, I was the only person who knew who brought the blades in.

I was threatened with lots of hole time. I was stared down and they made me offers to reduce my sentence if I told who brought the blades. After they gave up and figured out that their efforts were useless, they shipped me to the Rock. Wilkerson was really angry and demanded me to name the guard who gave me the blades (they were top quality blades and came from the outside). I told him that I didn’t know anything about it and never changed my story. He threatened me: “I want that motherfucker’s name. Next he’ll be bringing in guns!”

I must admit, I expected physical torture or at least a severe working over, but all I got was long, hot, filthy sessions in the hole. Wilkerson’s parting shot was “I should have sent you to Alcatraz years ago.” I answered, “I wish you had!”

You know the rest.

Bulger’s transfer order to Alcatraz.

* * *

October 16, 1959,

Director James V. Bennett

Warden F.T. Wilkinson, Atlanta

James J. Bulger

Registration Number 77607-A

Recommendation for Transfer to Alcatraz

The case of the above-named inmate is again being submitted to you with the recommendation that he should be transferred to Alcatraz. On January 28, 1959, I wrote to you about Bulger about his involvement with three other inmates to whom he furnished a hacksaw blade to assist them with their plans to saw their way out of B-cellhouse. Two of these men were sent to Alcatraz, but it was decided to permit Bulger to remain here in hopes that he would settle down and become more favorably responsive to efforts by the staff here to help them.

On the basis of this decision, which had our heartiest endorsement, Bulger was released from administrative segregation and given an incentive assignment to the prison industries. He appeared to make a fairly good response to his program, at least superficially. He soon became actively affiliated with his former, undesirable associates here, and on August 24, 1959, he was returned to administrative segregation. This was after we received what we considered good information to the effect that he,

Thomas John Devaney, 79217-A, and one or two others who identity we weren’t able to establish, were again plotting an escape from this institution.

Notwithstanding our patient efforts to counsel Bulger towards constructive program participation, he is becoming more sullen, resistive, and defiant by the day. We do not believe we can return him to the population here without inviting further serious trouble. Accordingly, there appears to be no alternative to sending him to Alcatraz, where he can remain in the population under a closely supervised program.

Associate Warden York’s memorandum, summarizing his contacts with Bulger, is attached.

* * *

January 6, 1959

TO: Mr. F.T. Wilkinson, Warden

Bulger is serving a sentence of twenty years for bank robbery. Investigation discloses that this man furnished a hacksaw blade to three men in “B” Cellhouse who were attempting to escape from this institution.

Almost every time information is received about some escape plot, Bulger’s name heads the list. When he was received, the state of Indiana had a pending murder charge against him. However, no detainer has been filed. It is my recommendation that Bulger be considered for transfer to Alcatraz as a serious escape risk.

W.H. York

Associate Warden

* * *

MEMORIES OF ALCATRAZ

Bulger was transferred from USP Atlanta to USP Alcatraz in November 1959. Bulger offers memories of his transfer and life on the Rock as inmate 1428-AZ:

I was flown on a TWA jet with around four or five Marshalls from Baltimore, Maryland to San Francisco. I enjoyed the smell of the salt air and choppy water. I came over to Alcatraz on the Warden Johnston boat and was bolted in for security purposes. I remember it all so well. When I arrived, all of my old friends who had served time with at Atlanta gave me a big welcome. They were hollering from their cells as I walked down Broadway.

Looking back, Alcatraz was pretty good. You may be surprised to find out that I look back at Alcatraz with a sense of nostalgia. My life today would break most men. After 16 years on the FBI’s Most Wanted list and after living a quiet life on the California coast, I’m back in a cold isolation cell.

I often reflect back to those years on the Rock. Even though the city of San Francisco was close, we inmates always felt so far removed from everything. It was like we were on the dark side of the moon. We saw the same faces all of the time, we had the same routine all of the time; everyone pretty much felt the same. I wouldn’t say that again if I were there under the same conditions today. I’d be in the yard, sitting high up on the bleachers, getting the warm sun on me, looking out across the bay, and watching the ships and the Golden Gate Bridge. It was the best view from any prison in the world.

I’m sure that if men like Capone, Mickey Cohen, Joe [Clarence] Carnes, or Jack Twining were alive today, we would reminisce over coffee, since we’d have a lot of the same memories of our years there. Going through the old roster, it’s like a trip through the cemetery. I had flashbacks of seeing the names of many good friends. I’m pretty sure Boston and its suburbs were well represented in Alcatraz. Many people I knew for years, and knew how they lived and how they died.

When I first arrived on Alcatraz I was assigned a cell on Broadway on the flats, where new men were kept until they were assigned a job and a regular cell. The guard who walked me to my cell was a big guy named Hart. He had a pleasant voice and as I came into the cell block, a couple of guys (one was Catalano) started hollering my name, and other guys from Atlanta picked up that I had arrived on Alcatraz. I remember Hart turning to me and saying something like “You’re real popular.”

I met Joe Carnes after he introduced himself while he was making his rounds working as a library orderly. Joe lived on the third tier of C-Block, down the tier from me. He’d say hello and deliver the library books from cell to cell and when he did, he’d mention episodes of Alcatraz past, such as attempted breaks. Joe was a good guy who would risk much for friends. I knew he had spent years in the hole and D-Block for his part in the past escape that went bad. He mentioned several friends of mine who were also serving time on Alcatraz, and Joe passed along their messages to say hello.

Joe also asked if I’d been up to the hospital and if I had met a man who was known by fellow convicts as the “Jap.” The “Jap” was Tomoya Kawakita. I mentioned that I had been up to the hospital and met him, but knowing nothing about him or his crimes, I said “Yes,” and that he seemed friendly. Joe passed me a book titled South Western Court Reporter and remarked, “This will tell you all about that bastard.”

It was the story of Tomoya Kawakita, AKA the “Meatball.” Kawakita was American-born but of Japanese ancestry. He was a student in Japan when Pearl Harbor was attacked. He joined the Japanese army as an interpreter and eventually wound up in a prisoner of war camp for Americans in Japan, where our men were made slaves working in a tin mine. Kawakita was a cruel bastard. Our men were starving and most of them weighed in at only 100 pounds. They were sickly, dying, and forced to hold heavy rocks and logs until they collapsed. As an example of the cruelty, our men were lined-up facing each other and then Kawakita ordered them to fight or be killed.

In another merciless act, he kicked two men into an open cesspool and then pushed their heads under with his boot. He would also select American soldiers to follow him into the woods, where they were never to come back or be seen again. Fellow prisoners had suspected that he had cut their heads off with a samurai sword. The “Meatball” carried a torturous reputation among the American soldiers. He was known to strut around wearing putters pants and knee-high, perfectly shined boots, a short sleeve shirt with a thick belt, and a holstered samurai sword. He would always tell our men: “You bastards will never leave here alive; will never see the United States again, and we will kill all of you.”

When the war was over Kawakita was listed and hunted as a war criminal. Following his capture and conviction of treason for committing horrific acts against American soldiers, he was directly committed to Alcatraz in 1953.

Clarence “Joe” Carnes, a full-blooded Choctaw Indian convicted of murder when he was only 15 years old, died at 61 years of age at the Medical Center for Federal Prisoners in Springfield, Missouri. He had been in and out of state and federal prisons since he was sixteen years old, and at eighteen years old became the youngest convict to serve time on the Rock.

Tomoya Kawakita

The “Meatball” worked in the hospital and had good food and drinks like fruit juice and coffee. It was the best job on the Rock. He was even able to shower and sleep in the hospital, not in a 5 by 9 foot cell like the rest of us. The Alcatraz authorities made life too easy for him, considering what he did to our men.

When I read the story of Kawakita, I was angry. The next time I was up in the hospital, Kawakita saw me and gave me a friendly greeting. I told him, “You rotten bastard. I’ll do anything I can to make your life miserable, you cowardly bastard.” The guard and the medic tried to shut me up and Kawakita jumped back. I later thanked Joe for pulling my coat to the “Jap.” Joe Carnes act of exposing Kawakita was something that I considered patriotic and a good gesture on his part. That was my way of seeing it and I appreciated it.

Many years later, I learned that Joe re-offended and that he was back in the federal prison hospital located in Springfield, Missouri. I sent him $500 for his commissary account and told him to write or call me anytime. When he called I was really glad to hear from him. He told me that he was getting out in a couple months and I offered to meet up with him and help him get back on his feet. I had planned to greet him in a limousine at the front gate, and then buy him a brand new Cadillac of his choosing. He asked me if I was serious and I said “Yes.”

He told me that he was doing well and that he heard that I was doing good as “Alcatraz’s most successful graduate.” We joked back and forth and then later on exchanged letters for a good period after that. He was optimistic and looking forward to it. Later on, he lost one month good time for taking a piece of butter off a food cart and then a couple of weeks later I saw on TV that the “Choctaw Kid Dies in Prison.” Goddamn, I felt bad about it. I couldn’t get it out of my mind ... how Joe Carnes never made much in life and then died in prison. I had to make it right.

When Bulger learned that prison officials had buried Carnes in a pauper’s grave, he contacted Joe’s family and offered to move Joe’s body to an Indian cemetery where he could be properly laid to rest with his own family. He purchased Carnes “the most beautiful and expensive copper and bronze top casket,” and then had his body exhumed and transferred to the Isaac Billy Cemetery, a traditional Indian burial ground located in Atoka County, Oklahoma.

Bulger stopped at no expense and personally made the arrangements for the burial ceremonies. The ceremony included a Choctaw Preacher, and three Indian women who sang consoling hymns in their traditional language. Next to the casket was a large cross made of white and red roses, and a small plant adorning a snapshot of Joe when he was about 8 or 9 years old. By all accounts, it was a sad but beautiful service... It was likely the kindest gesture anyone had ever paid to Joe Carnes; to make right a wrong, and give Joe his final wish. Bulger later commented:

On the day of the funeral, it was sunny and crisp, and there were rolling hills around. A cow grazed in the distance with the sounds of the bell around his neck echoing through the pastures. Joe was laid to rest between his sister and brother. It was such a peaceful place. Joe was free at last.

Prison officials—believing that Carnes had no surviving relatives—buried him in a pauper’s grave at the Catholic Cemetery of Springfield. Once Bulger read about Joe’s death in the newspapers, he intervened to have his body exhumed and transferred to Joe’s family plot for a proper service and burial. This is the gravestone purchased and placed by Bulger for Carnes.

Alver Bloomquist was a guard who started his Alcatraz career in the early 1940s. Of all the officers who worked on the Rock, Bloomie had a just reason to be bitter towards the inmate population. During the 1946 escape attempt known as the Battle of Alcatraz, he was struck by a bullet during an episode where a fellow officer was shot and killed. But Bloomie didn’t hold any grudges whatsoever. He looked upon the inmates as men who were paying the wages of their criminal past, and treated every man with a high level of respect and consideration. The guards didn’t live in the same environment that we did. Being a spectator is so different from being a recipient, and there are different types of torture, such as sleep deprivation, isolation, absence of hope, and the loss of freedom.

Every once in a while the fog would come in fast; the towers were high and the fog would be heavy. At those moments I was concerned for Bloomie. Guys were desperate and there were a lot of risk takers out there. But the respect for Bloomie rose to such a level among the inmate population, that there was unspoken code among the men that in the event of any escape attempt, Bloomie would not be harmed.

On the inside, we had guys from all walks of life. Some men were full of hate and quick to insult a guard with a mix of humor and acid tongue. One time Bloomie really shocked us all and showed some trust back. Bloomie was the only guy I ever saw who brought his son into the prison. He brought his son Dean and they stood next to the door that leads from the rec yard into the cellblock.

Guys were coming in from work and Bloomie stood there, introducing us to his son as each guy passed. Every one of us greeted his son and shook his hand. We all told him, “Your father is really a great guy.” My good friend Charlie Catalano gave Bloomie and his son a genuine, happy, good- to-meet-you type of gesture and handshake. It really knocked us all off of our balance, since we’d never seen such a thing. It’s ironic: the Hollywood depictions of the relationships between inmates and officers were often conflicted and full of strife, but Bloomie became an iconic figure to me.

Looking back, Bloomie became a trusted friend even following my release from prison and after he retired. We had dinners together. We were in contact and I flew out to visit him. But later on, I got deeper into organized crime and we drifted apart and lost touch. He was one of the finest guys I ever met in or out of prison. I wished him a long life, but also part of me always hoped that he didn’t hear about me being on the run for such serious crimes.

I had the wrong attitude, figuring that I’d try hard for one year to make it work. And if didn’t, I’d revert back. It’s all a matter of time before it’s a disaster. And then you have to play the game more seriously because it’s do or die. I can’t think of Bloomie without plunging into a deep depression. I wish him and his family had lived forever. I know if there’s a heaven, Bloomie is up there.

A series of portrait photos taken for family members while at Alcatraz.

William “Hawk” Hawkins.

In the laundry, there was a guy on the mangle opposite me. He was the only black man working in that area with us. He was a real nice guy from Washington D.C. named Hawkins. He was also in USP Lewisburg on the same tier with me, Catalano, Marcum, and Maloney. Later on I looked for him. I was once in D.C. staying in the Hyatt and called every Hawkins listed in the telephone directory. I was real interested in seeing how he was doing and whether I could help him out if things were not so good. We just called him “Hawk” while on Alcatraz. Years later I heard that he got trapped in a bank heist and committed suicide.

He was one hell of a nice guy—bright, well-spoken, and he came from a nice family. His father worked at the White House as a chauffeur. A couple of times he’d say, “Bulger, read this.” It would be a letter from his sister describing a wedding, for instance. His sister sounded like my own sister, who was a couple of years older than me. Once his sister got upset about the bad behavior of a black public figure and she commented, “God, he sets us back doing that.”

Hawk was on the mangle with me—he was on one end of a sheet (wet or damp) and I was on the other. This was a real mechanical type of job, and we would talk about books, current events, and get lost in our day. There was a lot of racial tension on the Rock and little things could cause rumbling, muttering, bristling, and dog-eyeing. I always had a lot of respect for Hawk. He always carried himself well and like a gentleman. I hope that he had some good times after prison with family prior to his death. He was a quite a guy.

Jack Twining’s (AZ-1362) booking photos for USP Atlanta and Alcatraz. Twining was a close friend of both Bulger and Frank Morris (an architect of the famed 1962 Alcatraz escape). Twining had a violent past of bank robbery and murder. In February 1959, he stabbed to death fellow Alcatraz inmate Walter Mollett, a known sexual predator incarcerated at both Alcatraz and other institutions. Twining was cleared of all charges, since the stabbing was considered an act of self defense. Following his release from prison, Jack Twining and crime partner Bobby Davis went on a violent spree that would end in tragedy in April 1970. After being pulled over for erratic driving in Newhall, California, and not willing to go back to prison or be taken alive, Twining and Davis shot and killed two California Highway Patrol officers. When two other officers arrived on the scene, Twining and Davis ambushed them. Davis killed one officer with a shotgun and Twining killed the other officer using a .45 automatic handgun. A witness, who happened to be an ex-marine, grabbed one of the slain officers’ weapons and shot Davis in the chest. Twining fled the scene and sought refuge by making a violent entry into the home of a married couple and taking them hostage. Exhausted and in despair after a nine hour standoff with police, Twining turned the gun on himself and committed suicide. Despite a violent past, Twining was well liked by fellow inmates at Alcatraz and known to always have a smile and be cordial in conversation. Former Alcatraz Correctional Officer Irving Levinson later commented: “Twining was quiet, always polite, and very likeable. He had the looks of being just a kid. He didn’t seem to belong in a place like Alcatraz. You would never have known just by the looks of him.” Twining’s partner Bobby Davis survived his injuries. He was convicted of capital murder and sentenced to death in California’s gas chamber. His sentence was later commuted to life in prison without the possibility of parole. After nearly four decades in prison, Davis took his own life in August 2009 while an inmate at the Kern Valley state prison.

Walter Mollett

Another good friend of mine was Jack Twining. It’s saddening to look at pictures of him. It seems like yesterday that I met him. Young guy, always with a smile; he worked in the hospital as an x-ray tech with Scotty (John Paul Scott) and myself. It’s still hard for me to picture Jack killing anyone back then. I didn’t know anything about his life; he just made small talk. He seemed to be a really easy-going guy; he never talked about his past.

I knew that he was in for bank robbery and think that he pled guilty so that they would turn loose his girlfriend who was arrested down in New Orleans area. He was sentenced to thirty years. Courtney Taylor, who was a prolific jailhouse lawyer at Alcatraz, did some legal work for Jack, and had him file an appeal in New Orleans, which got his sentenced reduced to 20 years. That was sometime after he had killed Mollett, because when he was in the Parish Jail on appeal, he was put in a cell with a big chain as double security on his cell door and a sign that read:

CAUTION - DO NOT APPROACH THIS CELL BY YOURSELF. THIS PERSON HAS ALREADY STRANGLED A MAN TO DEATH

From birth, Jack always traveled under a black cloud of bad luck. During the Christmas holiday he would always give me his Christmas cards. This was a big deal, since it was the only time were allowed to send a note to anyone we wanted, even if they were not on the mailing list. I felt guilty accepting them. I always asked him, “Don’t you know anybody out there?” He would just respond that he didn’t get any mail and didn’t have anyone on the outside.

By degrees, he told me his story. It was very sad for me to hear. We never had much when I was young, but we were real close as a family, and somehow always had a good meal on Thanksgiving and Christmas. Jack never had either, and never sat down with a family; he grew up in an orphanage. He was adopted by a young couple, and while picking up a ball that landed in some bushes by a window, he heard the guy say to his wife: “Why did we bring that bastard home?” Jack heard that and ran away.

He was caught and sent back to the orphanage, a runaway juvenile place. And then he was sent to jails, the chain gang, the state prison for bank robbery, and then, finally, Alcatraz. Poor Jack, I don’t think he had many happy memories or moments. He had rage and hated like no one I ever knew. At least two times while we were in prison, I feel I prevented him from killing other convicts. Jack sought revenge, and as usual, innocent people suffered.

When Jack took hostages during the Newhall Incident, it was fortunate that he spared them. And I’m glad that he did because if the Law had stormed the house, it may have been fatal for the hostages. I’m also glad that Twining killed himself; he found peace finally. It saved him and everyone else the pain of years of trial, isolation, death row, and execution. I guarantee you that his last years moments in that house, he was calm and at peace. The gun battle had undoubtedly left him spent, and he was approaching the end he sought.

Years later I read a feature article in a detective magazine about that day, and saw the pictures of the four California Highway Patrolmen. They were young guys, and looked like All American Boys: married, real healthy looking, real tragic. No picture of Jack. I also read that he had killed (or was suspected of killing) a federal agent and two other men when he was coming south from Washington State. The guy who was with Jack in Newhall was shot and he survived. But he later killed himself in prison. Sad story all the way around...

It took me years to find out about Jack’s past. I knew him in Atlanta before Alcatraz and considered him a friend of mine and a friend of Louis Arquilla. I prevented him from killing a black inmate named Mitchell on the Rock. I did so for Jack’s sake. Mitchell was real lucky after Jack killed Mollett on the Rock. As far as I was concerned, Mollett committed suicide. He underestimated Twining.

Jack had a violent explosive temper combined with hate; he wanted revenge and his own death. He spelled it all out for me and said, “I know, but can’t help it and I know you’re right.” I told him how it would end if he kept going on this way. On a couple of down moments he’d say, “I don’t care about anything or trust anyone. I don’t have any friends and I don’t need them!” It shook him up when I told him that I was a good friend, as well as Louis and John Duncan. He didn’t answer, so I let it go. I can think back to all those conversations.

Seeing the pictures of him and talking about this makes it all seem like yesterday. I feel he’s at peace, but that he left a lot of people suffering in his wake, including mothers, fathers, siblings, children and friends. Jack faded into obscurity. I have never see any mention of him anymore relating to the Newhall Incident. Looking back not many people knew him. I remember seeing a section of the California Highway named after the four highway patrol officers he killed. I know it gives meaning to the families.

John Duncan, AZ-1359

Rafael Miranda, AZ-1163

Rafael Miranda shot up Congress and later said to me that he “expected to die that day for our country – it was the only way to get the world to listen.” Miranda was a real gentleman, as was his fellow shooter “Cordero,” a little guy I knew in the Atlanta pen. I used to eat next to him. He started to teach me some Spanish, but the lessons were cut short after I was sent to the hole for an escape plot. After being sent to the hole, I was sent to administrative segregation. Sadly, he died at a young age.

Both of these guys were “Political Prisoners” and were a credit to Puerto Rico. They were respected by their fellow convicts, not for shooting up Congress, but for how they conducted their lives in prison—proudly and morally strong. You have to remember that at Alcatraz, all of those men were fiercely patriotic. But they respected those who held to their own morals and ideals, but not to any violence against our country.

Years later I flew San Juan, Puerto Rico just for a change of pace. It was crowded, and there was a lot of crime, stray dogs, and extreme poverty. In Old San Juan it was much more orderly and people look to be middle-class. I went into a restaurant that the locals frequented. I was by myself and caught the chill from all customers at the bar. I ordered local goat meat, rice, beans and a beer, and enjoyed the meal.

I stopped at the bar for beer and a local in a friendly-but-suspicious way started to quiz me. They suspected I was a cop, but I was actually there while I on parole when I wasn’t supposed to leave Massachusetts. I found out that I was in a place where Puerto Rican nationalists frequent, and that they are wary of strangers, especially Americans. I assured them that if anything, I was for them having the right of self-determination. I mentioned that I knew Cordero, Miranda, and had met Oscar Callazo. I told them how the three were given their status in prison.

One of the customers was a writer for their paper and asked me if I would go on record with a photo. I had to explain that I was on parole and if it was known that I was in Puerto Rico, I’d be back in prison. They understood and to their credit they never revealed my identity or took my picture.

This is a far cry from media liars in America. Years later I read about Miranda being free and working in his family’s store in Mayaguez, Puerto Rico. I called there and had a pleasant conversation with Miranda. I hope that he’s in good health. He was the Catholic altar boy in church services on Alcatraz and a true believer.

Sam Tiblow, AZ-1265

There is a story about Sam Tiblow’s pet lizard being snatched up from off of a rock and being eaten by a seagull. It happened down where Tiblow worked at the incinerator. There are stories of Tiblow getting revenge and killing lots of seagulls. First of all, the seagulls were protected by federal law and everybody was aware of it. Killing multiple seagulls would have never been tolerated by the prison administration. If that had been the case, Tiblow would have been off the incinerator detail and sent to D block.

But this I do know this: he would capture seagulls, paint them blue and red, and then release them. We would spot them out the mess hall window. Often we’d throw out slices of bread and the seagulls would catch them on the fly. Once in a while, a kitchen worker would tie a kitchen spatula or other shiny utensil and tie bread to it, and the birds would often be seen flying by with it. Guys would roar with laughter. That is a fact that was seen by many of us.

The upper tier of C-Block was my home and many of the people who were considered America’s worst in that era were not only fellow residents, but actually people who I considered good friends. I knew and respected many of the famous and not so famous men who resided as fellow convicts. It was like a small community, not much unlike any small town or city.

While I didn’t know some of the earlier residents like Al Capone, or whether he actually lived up to his notorious reputation, there is something I do know about him, and just about better than any living person. I have a good idea of what thoughts he had while serving time on Alcatraz. I’ve lived in the same section of C-Block for a period of time (my cell was above his on the upper tier). We read from the same library, we worked some of the same jobs, and we were counted by some of the same guards. We lived the very same routine, ate from the same menus, and both of us served time with several of the same men, under the same harsh conditions. We were all part of a unique band of brothers.

Where you celled was very important; friendships were formed by proximity to cells. And that meant standing in line, filing into the mess hall, where, and who you ate with. I lived in C-314. My neighbor in C-316 was Eugene Wilson, who we simply called “Willie.” To my right in C-312 was an inmate named John Doyle. Frank Hatfield was on the third tier at one time; he may have also been in C-312 before Doyle. A lot of guys would stay awake after lights out and read. There were also a lot of guys who didn’t read that much, but who were hooked on the sports programs. They listened to all of the games, and some of them would study the world almanac for stats.

Bulger spent most of tenure on Alcatraz in C-314, located on the upper tier of Block C. This was considered a prime location since it was private with no opposite cells. It was out of the view of both the gallery officer and the officers strolling the flats, and received some of the best sunlight in the prison.

Eugene “Willie” Wilson, AZ-1290

John Doyle, AZ-1359, served time for murder on Alcatraz.

Richard Sunday, AZ-1431, was a trusted friend of Bulger’s both at USP Atlanta and USP Alcatraz.

There was a convict I remember on Alcatraz who I’ve never forgotten. Every morning when the buzzer went off to signal the cons to get up, Gene Fuller would holler: “Stop the world, I want to get off.” He would mimic the Road Runner character in the famed cartoon. You could hear Fuller’s “Beep-Beep” resonate throughout the cellhouse.

Every night when the radios went off you would hear all of the headphones hitting the concrete floor. When the radio shut down at lights out, the men would just pull them off their ears and throw them to the floor. It was very distinct sound that you heard every night. I never did. I always felt that tomorrow is another day and why risk having to lose the use of headphones while they are being repaired. It was the same sound at both Atlanta and Leavenworth.

Once in a while, little field mice would be on the flats getting some of the bread crumbs that guys used to feed the sparrows. Guys would catch the mice and then tame them down. They’d keep the mouse on a little lease (in their shirt, jacket, or their hat). Guys really liked them. Wilson had one of those trained mice that he kept as a pet. At times, if I was real quiet, he would put the mouse on the flat bar and he would come over into my cell. I’d put him on my bed and play with him a little and he’d snap me straight out of my depression.

Later on, years later, I heard that Wilson had married some woman with two or three kids and was living in Texas and he had opened his own shoe repair shop. Willie worked in the Alcatraz cobbler shop; he was a really neat guy. He was real quiet, but you also knew that he was tough. I never knew what he did to get to the Rock; I never asked and he never brought it up. I only knew that he was an Army prisoner. That was how many of the Army prisoners were. Truth is I never cared why or what they did, I only judged them by how they carried themselves in prison.

C-Block was an ideal location on Alcatraz. The guard in the gun gallery had no view into my cell, and I could see the entrance to the yard and D-Block. I had no cells across from me, so there was a great sense of privacy that was not afforded to many of the other areas of the cellblock.

At night, guards making their rounds were very quiet. They would put felt covers on their shoes—sort of like slippers—to mask the noise. I could smell the guards when they started to count on the flats. As an example, Lewis always smelled of pipe tobacco. Others smelled of powder or aftershave or cigarettes. My sense of smell was powerful back then because of the absence of motor vehicles or fresh air to remove the cigarette smoke from the convicts.

On the yard, Joe Carnes would be down in the areas where guys played chess, checkers, or dominos. During my years, they sat on folding canvas, wooden style chairs in the far right corner of the yard, to the right of the baseball diamond. To us, they looked like a bunch of old guys hunched over concentrating on their games. They seldom moved. I saw the pictures in your book on page 113 [Authors note: see Alcatraz - A Definitive History of the Penitentiary Years for reference.] This had to be an old “before” picture because they are sitting on stacked cushions, not the folding chairs, which were real light and not sturdy enough to be used as a weapon. When they were not in use they were stacked up and kept in the covered space underneath the yard stairs leading up to the cellhouse.

I have fond memories of sitting out on the yard bleachers. I used to stand on one high point, a little alcove with room only for one person. I’d stand there and look out at the sail boats on the Bay, and at the Golden Gate Bridge. It was such a wonderful full view of the Bay from Alcatraz. I remember seeing Sterling Hayden’s sailboat the Wanderer, a full-scale replica of the Bounty, and I watched it sail out of the fog and into Frisco. I can also remember seeing the war ships and submarines going in and out of the Bay. We all felt a great sense of pride and patriotism. These were all beautiful sights; they remain forever etched into my memory.

The coveted view of the Golden Gate Bridge from the Alcatraz recreation yard bleacher steps.

Bulger would later state that this was his favorite Alcatraz photo; it was taken by a member of the press on closing day. Looking back, he offered that it was a treasured memory watching the small birds from inside his cell on C-D Street. He remembered, “Many of the windows were broken or would be left open. The story goes that the warden didn’t want to fix them because guys kept tossing objects and breaking them. I liked the windows being open as it allowed little sparrows to fly into the cell block and we could feed them bread crumbs.”

In April 1962, Bulger was transferred to USP Leavenworth. In the following year he was transferred to USP Lewisburg. He was released in 1965, after serving a total of nine years in prison.

Bulger’s 1962 USP Leavenworth mug shot photo.

Bulger’s 1963 USP Lewisburg mug shot photo.

RETURNING TO CRIME

After his release from prison, Bulger worked in legitimate occupations before becoming a bookmaker and loan shark with ties to Donald Killeen, the leader of the dominant Irish mob in South Boston. Bulger continued to climb the ranks within Boston’s crime syndicate, eventually rising to the highest echelon in organized crime. While Bulger prospered as the most prominent crime mogul of Boston, his crime partner Kevin Weeks later depicted Bulger in a similar fashion to a fellow Alcatraz alumni, Al Capone. Weeks indicated that Bulger led his crime ventures with a code of ethics that did not allow his criminal ventures to blur the lines of law-abiding people who were not involved in any of the underworld commerce. Weeks remembered:

“As a criminal, he made a point of only preying upon criminals, as opposed to legitimate people. And when things couldn’t be worked out to his satisfaction with these people, after all the other options had been explored, he wouldn’t hesitate to use violence.”

ON THE RUN

According to Kevin Weeks, in 1993 and 1994, before the pinches came down, Bulger and crime partner Stephen “The Rifleman” Flemmi were traveling on the French and Italian Riviera. The pair traveled all over Europe, sometimes separating for a while. They would rent cars and travel all through Europe. It was more preparation than anything, getting ready for another life. “They didn’t ask me to go, not that I would have wanted to. Jimmy had prepared for the run for years.”

Bulger had established a completely different identity: Thomas Baxter. He had a complete ID and credit cards in that name. He had even joined associations in Baxter’s name, and was building an entire portfolio for the guy. He had always said that you had to be ready to take off on short notice. And he was.

Bulger had also set up safe deposit boxes containing cash, jewelry, and passports, in locations across North America and Europe. In December 1994, Bulger was informed by retired FBI Agent John Connolly that sealed indictments had come down from the Department of Justice and that the FBI were due to make arrests during the Christmas season. In response, Bulger fled Boston on December 23, 1994, accompanied by his then-girlfriend, Theresa Stanley.

After fleeing Boston, Bulger and Stanley initially spent four days over Christmas in Selden, New York. They spent New Year’s Day in a hotel in the French Quarter in New Orleans. On January 5, 1995, Bulger prepared to return to Boston, believing that it had all been a false alarm. That night, however, Stephen Flemmi was arrested outside a Boston restaurant by the DEA. Boston police Detective Michael Flemmi, Stephen’s brother, informed Weeks about the arrest. Weeks immediately passed the information on to Bulger, who altered his plans. Bulger and Stanley then spent the next three weeks traveling between New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco before Stanley decided that she wanted to return to her children. They then traveled to Clearwater, Florida, where Bulger retrieved his Tom Baxter identification from a safe deposit box. Bulger drove to Boston and dropped off Theresa Stanley in a parking lot. Then he met with Weeks at Malibu Beach in Dorchester. Weeks brought along Bulger’s girlfriend Catherine Greig. Bulger and Greig then went on the run together.

In his memoirs, Weeks describes a clandestine meeting with Bulger and Greig in Chicago, Illinois. Bulger reminisced fondly about his time hiding out with a family in Louisiana. He told Weeks, who had replaced him as head of the Winter Hill Gang, “If anything comes down, put it on me.”

MANHUNT

The last confirmed sighting of Bulger before his capture was in London in 2002. However, there were unconfirmed sightings elsewhere. FBI agents were sent to Uruguay to investigate a lead. FBI agents were also sent to stake out the 60th memorial of the Battle of Normandy celebrations, because Bulger was a patriot and avid reader of military history. In 2010, the FBI turned its focus to Victoria, British Columbia, on Vancouver Island. In pursuit of Bulger, a known book lover, the FBI visited bookstores in the area, questioned employees, and distributed wanted posters.

Following his arrest, Bulger revealed that he had in fact traveled frequently. Also following his arrest, it was clear that he had not been reclusive; witnesses came forward to say that they had seen him on the Santa Monica Pier and elsewhere in southern California. A confirmed report by an off-duty Boston police officer after a San Diego screening of The Departed (a film by Martin Scorsese produced in 2006, based loosely on Bulger) also led to a search in Southern California that lasted “a few weeks”.

SANTA MONICA, CALIFORNIA

Bulger and Catherine Greig took daily walks in Palisades Park. He reminisced, “What memories of the Rose Garden. Our favorite place and our favorite bench. We always sat there early in the morning - we’d carry a couple paper towels to wipe off the dew. So peaceful...”

Living on the run with Catherine in Santa Monica was like a sixteen-year honeymoon. They were the happiest years of my life. The years were almost stress-free. The other years were gang wars; friends shot down and ambushed, shootings, knife fights, fights, intrigue, murder, extortion traps set for us. A bomber was paid to blow me up with sticks of dynamite with radio-controlled bombs. I tracked him down and captured him and the bomb, which I dismantled. There were car to car shootings, years of violence. I was shot at many times since the age of fifteen, there were police beatings to make you talk (which I never did and never came close).

We never really looked over our shoulders. Our attitude was that we were going to live a normal life. If we were captured, then so be it; until then we were not going to live in a state of anxiety. We went everyplace we wanted to. Once in a while I would see or hear the lies and other things on TV and I had a desire to go back for revenge, but I couldn’t move without considering Catherine. I owed her that much, and because of her, I never slipped back.

In the Santa Monica days, all of those years were wonderful by degrees and I started to feel like a human. I felt love, I guess that after so many years of shutting down my feelings I felt like ice and capable of anything. It was hard for me to put my feelings into words. I wish I could’ve let Catherine know how much I loved her, when I can write some day maybe once in those years. I felt so in love. To walk she would put her arm in mine and I felt a real warm calm feeling coming over me.

CAPTURE

After sixteen years at large and twelve years on the FBI Ten Most Wanted Fugitives list, Bulger was arrested in Santa Monica, California, on June 22, 2011. Bulger was captured as a result of the work of the Bulger Fugitive Task Force, which consisted of FBI Agents and a Deputy US Marshal. According to retired FBI agent Scott Bakken, “Here you have somebody who is far more sophisticated than some 18-year-old who killed someone in a drive-by. To be a successful fugitive you have to cut all contacts from your previous life. He had the means and kept a low profile.”

A reward of US $2 million had been offered for information leading to his capture. This amount was second only to Osama Bin Laden’s capture reward on the FBI Ten Most Wanted Fugitives list. Bulger has been featured on the television show America’s Most Wanted 16 times, first in 1995, and last on October 2, 2010. According to the authorities, the arrests were a “direct result” of the media campaign launched by the FBI in 14 markets across the country where Bulger and Greig reportedly had ties.

Authorities received a tip from a woman in Iceland that he was living in a Santa Monica, California, apartment near a beach. A day later, “... using a ruse, agents and other task force members lured Mr. Bulger out of his apartment”, “arrested him ‘without incident,’ then went in the house and arrested Greig.” Bulger was charged with murder, “conspiracy to commit murder, extortion, narcotics distribution and money-laundering.” Agents found “more than $800,000 in cash, 30 firearms and fake IDs” at the apartment.

Bulger was arraigned in federal court on July 6, 2011. He pled not guilty to 48 charges, including 19 counts of murder, extortion, money laundering, obstruction of justice, perjury, narcotics distribution, and weapons violations.

The Princess Eugenia Apartments where Bulger and Greig lived their days on the run in quiet solitude. They lived in Apt # 303, seen on the top right.

Bulger and Greig lived under the alias “Gasko” while on the run in Santa Monica.

I don’t feel like the guy that they say killed so many people, robbed so many banks, was involved in extortion, gang wars, and arson, or who survived shootings, or was shot at so many times from about fourteen years old on. I can remember each time I ran and kept thinking it would get me in the back. Gunfire sounds different, and you feel really vulnerable when you’re a kid and running with nothing to shoot back with. I had that very same feeling in Santa Monica when I was captured in the garage. All the Feds; the Los Angeles SWAT team with machine guns, rifles, and a couple of Glock handguns drawn on me. How did I ever drift into this lane?

The apartment garage area where Bulger was lured and arrested.

On that last morning, my neighbor Josh was asked by the FBI to call my apartment and to say that someone broke into my locker in the basement garage. I went down to check and was trapped. They demanded that I kneel down and I refused to kneel on the oily garage floor. They were screaming “We will shoot,” and it was a very tense moment. I told them that there was a clean place to my right and for him to take two steps to the right to that area and then I’d comply. They screamed really loud and I knew it might be my last step, but I told them: “Here is step number one,” and I took it, and I debated with myself: do I dare chance another step? The tension was rising, but I said, “Fuck it.” I’m not backing down and I said, “Here’s step number two.” They screamed, “Don’t or we’ll shoot!!!” I had that feeling I had as a kid waiting to feel the bullet in the back.

When we went on the lam, Catherine asked me to please not hurt anyone. I kept that promise. I kept that promise to her because of the fear that if I shot anyone she could and would be prosecuted. I felt protective of her and would give my life for her. I offered to plead guilty to all charges in exchange for her freedom, but it was rejected.

Sadly, the months of degrading strip searches and special treatment kind of wiped out the Santa Monica years. They brought me back to hate and anger. All of the things that help to deal with what I call psychological torture used in POW camps to break down prisoners to make them confess ... tactics taught in regimens in Central and South America by our CIA, which is documented.

THE BOOKS, THE LIES, THE MOVIES...

Much has been written about me, the movies, so much. I could never defend myself. My problem is that I’d have to explain the lies told by past accomplices; two got freedom for their cooperation. It means I’d have to prove them as liars and, in the process, guilty of murder. I’m sick over the thought of having to defend myself against these lies. I’ve offered to plead guilty to crimes I’m innocent of if they would let my Catherine free. I swear I never killed any women and never gave info to the FBI. I bought info from the FBI. The boss supervisor of the FBI was my paid informant.

In the past, I was the last man tried, when all the others had already been tried and convicted. I was on the run and captured; and I agreed to plead guilty to participation in bank robberies. By pleading that way guys already in prison could change their plea and I could always be called by the defense. But it didn’t happen and they got less time than me. Being the last man standing is not so good at times. He usually gets the extra heat, as evidenced by me.

I would take a lie detector test if they would be willing to do the same regarding the truthfulness of what they wrote in their books. Also, I will refuse to testify in court against them. I have no desire to send people back to prison, just prove them liars. I want to reiterate that I never killed a woman or child, I never caused a person to go to prison, and I never gave info. I bought it and can prove it. I traveled in dangerous waters with people who killed their best friends, killed out of boredom, or wanted to up their score.

Back in my early prison days, if I gave up a name in Atlanta, it would have meant no Alcatraz and a positive parole in six years. They put on pressure; sent me to the hole in solitary; even made death threats that couldn’t make me give anyone up. Nor could systematic beatings in police stations, broken teeth, a fractured arm, a gun jammed down my throat and cocked by a drunken cop (McDonough, who was screaming that he would kill me after he fractured my arm by club,) [make me give up a name].

END OF THE TRAIL

While Bulger is not claiming he is innocent to many of the charges, he is steadfast and continues to be emphatic on two issues: he never killed any women, and he never provided information of substance to the FBI. Much like a president of a professional corporation, it is alleged by the media that Bulger was the principle of a large crime syndicate. Like any large outfit, it is contended that numerous criminal activities, including some of the murders, happened outside of Bulger’s direct circle of knowledge. Regardless of any level of guilt or innocence, he will likely never see freedom again. He wrote:

I always feel like that sculpture by James Earle Fraser. It’s an Indian on horseback, weary and tired horse, named the “The End of the Trail.” The horse and rider are bent forward, with a lance and bow.

Story of my life is in extremes: from off to Paris on the Concorde plane at 1,300 miles per hour, three hours and fifteen minutes from New York City or from Boston to traveling cuffed and shackled on a prison bus. From eating in the finest restaurants and dining rooms in Europe to eating cold food and every meal in this cold cell.

Alcatraz is still a part of me and even while on the lam, I was able to visit and walk the old cellblocks and think back to all of the memories of life inside: the muffled sound of a passing seagull, the bell of the small buoy just off the Alcatraz shore, or the sound of a cell door racking, now by a park ranger rather than a prison guard.

At this point, I must face reality, this is the end of the trail and it ends soon. In some cases I’m guilty, in others it’s the guys who made deals. I was the last man standing when everyone else was arrested. They joined in the chorus of “Whitey’s the Boss” and things like “Whitey told me to do it.”

A lie unchallenged becomes the truth. It is hard to challenge from the position I was in. All of the above is a bad dream. Looking back, I try to come up with the answers of how I evolved into what I became, when the rest of my family so different. I regret that my family became the target of the media.

Prison life is rough. Prisons are populated by society’s killers, thieves, low lifes, losers, and mental cases. Most of these men are dangerous and will be harder to stop the next time around. Prison teaches one thing to perfection: hate. Guys find that it helps to harden and get through the days and nights. And in some cases (most cases) innocent people suffer. I don’t have a solution or answer, and I’m the first to admit prisons are necessary, but know that the tougher the prison, the tougher the convict. He’s much more dangerous when released. Prison life changed me for the worst.

I consider myself a myth that has been created by the media and hungry reporters. These reporters would write stories that sounded like I had been tried and convicted of murder the way they reported some of the crimes. On a slow news day, blame “Whitey,” and write anything that sells. I was a criminal, sure, but some of these crimes they pinned on me? I didn’t rob the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston and take those paintings (a Vermeer, five Degas, and three Rembrandts). Good story for a slow news day.

But all in all, this is my world now and going to shut down all of my feelings that I can. There is something to the expression “Dead Man Walking.” If I could choose my epitaph on my tombstone, it would be “I’d rather be in Alcatraz...1428-AZ.” All that remains on Alcatraz today are our ghosts.

While James Bugler was rising in power in the Boston crime syndicate, his brother William (seen here with Senator Ted Kennedy) was a prolific politician. William Bulger became President of the Massachusetts Senate and later the president of the University of Massachusetts. He was forced to resign from office after it was revealed that he had communicated with his fugitive brother while he was on the lam. William was considered a brilliant and powerful political force during his political career. During the 1960s, he led efforts to write the first child abuse reporting laws in the state. He was supportive of environmental protection legislation, and was among the first advocates of charter schools and public school choice. During the 1980s, he advocated the funding of public libraries, the expansion of childhood nutrition services and fuel assistance programs. As Senate president, Bulger led the debate on welfare reform in the early 1990s, with the resulting legislation becoming the model for a national law. The two brothers remained close throughout their lives.

George “Machine Gun” Kelly, 117-AZ

George “Machine Gun” Kelly

George “Machine Gun” Kelly was one of the most famous inmates to ever reside on Alcatraz and one of the most iconic gangsters from the Prohibition Era. In July 1933, Kelly and his wife Kathryn plotted to kidnap wealthy oil tycoon and businessman Charles Urschel. Kelly, carrying his trademark Tommy Gun, and two other men carrying pistols entered the Urschel’s mansion in Oklahoma City. The Urschels were playing a game of bridge with friends when Kelly stormed in and took Urschel as hostage. Urschel was taken into hiding on a rural ranch in Texas and the Kelly Gang made demands for $200,000.

The Urschel’s family friend E.E. Kirkpatrick made drop arrangements and delivered the ransom in denominations of $20 bills. The money was delivered near the LaSalle Hotel in Kansas City on July 30th, with Urschel being released the following day near Norman, Oklahoma, ending a lengthy eight-day ordeal.

After splitting the ransom money with their accomplices, Kathryn and “Machine Gun” started state hopping trying to stay two steps ahead of law officials. From the several clues that Urschel was able to provide, the FBI raided the ranch where he had been held captive, and made an arrest of one of the other conspirators. The bills that had been used for payment in the ransom had traceable serial records and the Center Bureau of Investigation (now the FBI) started a nationwide search for their prime suspect, George R. Kelly.

George “Machine Gun” Kelly on October 15, 1933. He is shown being led to USP Leavenworth following his sentencing to life in prison for kidnapping.

Kelly and his wife were finally captured on the morning of September 26, 1933, and ultimately received a life sentence for their act. Kelly was transferred to USP Leavenworth and Kathryn was transferred to a federal prison in Cincinnati. Kelly was arrogant towards prison officials and bragged to the press that he would escape, break out his wife, and that they would spend Christmas together. It was decided that these threats should be taken seriously and in August 1934, Kelly, along with his accomplices Albert Bates and Harvey Bailey, were transferred from USP Leavenworth to Alcatraz by train. Arriving on September 4, 1934, they would be among the first groups of prisoners. Kelly became AZ-117.

He was incarcerated at Alcatraz from 1934 until 1951, totaling seventeen years served on the Rock. Kelly would spend the remainder of his life in prison and ultimately die of a heart attack on July 18, 1954 at USP Leavenworth. Ironically, it was his 59th birthday.

* * *

Feb. 3rd – 1936

Mr. Homer Cummings;

Attorney General;

Dear Sir:-

I am writing you regarding a plan I have had in mind for several months. I realize it is unusual and that no precedent has ever been set for such issue but I understand that as Attorney General it is within your power to designate the place a Federal prisoner must serve his sentence.

As you know I am serving a life sentence for kidnapping, without any possible chance of ever being paroled.

The United States Government has uninhabited Islands in the Pacific, smaller than Wake or Midway. There is Admiral Byrd’s abandoned camp at the South Pole, also extremely isolated outposts in Alaska. I feel certain there is at least one of these or some other place where the Government would like the atmospheric conditions studied over a long period of time. I know with the proper instruments and books I could make a meteorology survey of such place that would be of benefit to science and the government.

My idea is, that such a place that has never been thoroughly studied, would be too lonesome and desolate for any free man to care to stay there longer than a few months, even if he had company.

I could be taken from here secretly, placed on a boat in the Bay and transported with what supplies I would need. This could be managed in such a way that the crew need never know who I was or even that I was a prisoner from Alcatraz. Some kind of arrangements could be made for a boat to stop say every year or two, leave supplies and take back what data I had accumulated.

By this method I would be doing some useful work, serving my sentence and I believe by the time I was eligible for parole I would be shown some consideration.

With the rapid strides that aviation is making, wind conditions and air currents will have to be studied all over the world. Two years ago the Islands the China Clipper is using on its flights to Manila were practically useless, but today they are the stepping stones to the Orient, and Meteorology conditions must be known at such places, and lots of time and money would be saved by knowing these conditions in advance.

This may seem like a hair brained proposition to you, but I think it altogether feasible.

Hoping something can be done along these lines. I remain yours truly,

Geo. R. Kelly - #117

This letter was written to Charles Urschel (his kidnapping victim) on April 11, 1940. It was later reprinted by the Bureau of Prisons and is considered as one of the most profound observations ever written about time served on Alcatraz.

Mr. Urschel,

I feel at times you wonder how I’m standing up under my penal servitude, and what is my attitude of mind. It is natural that you should be infinitely curious. Incidentally, let me say that you have missed something in not having had the experience for yourself. No letters, no amount of talk, and still more, no literary description in second-rate books, and books on crime cannot but be second-rate – could ever give you the faintest idea of the reality.

No one can know what it’s like to suffer from the sort of intellectual atrophy, the pernicious mental scurvy, that come of long privation of all the things that make life real; because even the analogy of thirst can’t possibly give you an inkling of what it’s like to be tortured by the absence of everything that makes life worth living.

Maybe you have asked yourself, “How can a man of even ordinary intelligence put up with this kind of life, day in, day out, week after week, month after month, year after year.” To put it more mildly still, what is this life of mine like, you might wonder, and whence do I draw sufficient courage to endure it.

To begin with, these five words seem written in fire on the walls of my cell: “Nothing can be worth this.” This – kind of life I’m leading. That is the final word of wisdom so far as crime is concerned. Everything else is mere fine writing...

Very Truly Yours,

Geo. R. Kelly #117

* * *

Kathryn Kelly being led from court by United States Marshals in 1933.

George and Kathryn Kelly during their sentencing.

September 11, 1940

From: Mrs. George R. Kelly

PMB F85 Terminal Is. Calif.

To: George R. Kelly PMB 117 Alcatraz, Calif.

Mr. Dearest, Bear:

I have thought in vain, of how to work a reply to you that would express exactly how I feel about “us”. And I find that it is most difficult to do. Your letter touched my heart. In fact I cried when I read it, as I expected quite a different wording: I shrink, from hurting you. That is the farthest desire of my heart. Naturally I did not think that you would be very hurt, as long as you had cancelled your correspondence to me. I suppose the best thing I can do is to simply speak plainly and exactly how I feel. First, please understand that I’m not “cracking up”, neither is prison getting me down, and in dismissing the love angle, which I admit is hard to do I feel like this: that to help you in any manner I would gladly give my life, but I can’t feel that I have added to you, in any manner by consistently trying to encourage you, by writing you the long cheerful letters that I have, these years. I tried my level best to help you in doing your time; but it seems I failed miserably. Don’t think that I even considered you less strong than myself. I haven’t—but I always feel that if either of us needed encouragement, I should attempt to give it to you, because my surroundings have no doubt been more pleasing than yours.

I longed for you to avoid trouble, to stand on your own feet for what you know is right and minutely be the man you really are. Well it seems you fell down on the job. I know you have acted up in some manner, so I feel that if maintaining your position as a prison politician—big shot—or something comes first in your thoughts then why should I hang on to a dream that could never come true. Unless you have changed a lot darling, even if we two were free tomorrow we should be forced to say goodbye. WHY? Well, because I’m happy to say that I know I shall never place myself nor permit myself to be placed in a position to ever re-enter prison. I shall be just a “little fish” so speaking if I am fortunate enough to get that one chance and like it. No more “big dough” for me in any place. In other words I find that I am completely cured of any craving for un-legitimate luxuries and my sincere hopes and plans for the future are of a sane, balanced mode in living. I’ll never change on that viewpoint. I have gone through hell and still am plainly speaking, seeing mother as a daily reminder of my own mistake. The mistake was in my love, and marriage to you.

Not that I censure you, I don’t. I blame myself. However, I’ve “woke up”. I hoped you would but I’m not sure of what goes on in your mind. As you know I like to finish things immediately and I feel if our goodbye is to come, why not now. The hurt will at least be dimmed in the years of incarceration yet ahead of both of us. I’ve never told you that I did not love you and I never shall. I said that “I would be happier even in prison” and I would. For I do worry about you and wonder. Love isn’t everything in life. A content, peaceful existence, free from worry is most essential and I can dismiss love from my heart when my brain informs me it’s best. The reason you gave for canceling your correspondence was a small rebellious boys reason. Rules are rules in an inst. and necessary. And I know that no mail censor would select your letters to heavily censor. You are just another number, the same as I, and the quicker you grasp that fact the better off you’ll be. Personally, in general I have been utterly surprised at the considerate kindness I have known from the officials these seven years. I expected far different treatment.

I know you thoroughly honey, so don’t think I’m harsh. What you need to do is to forget “Machine Gun” Kelly and what he stood for and interest yourself in being plain, kind George, who is just another “con” like me. I have shared all of the lead with you. I intend to. We are not kids, we’re quite aged and if it’s impossible for you to make yourself into a man who “thinks straight”—who will go straight when the opportunity presents itself, then I don’t want you for a companion. “They all leave prison eventually” we shall too. I will be ready for a new life, fashioned on a far different scale. I don’t know about you.

So that’s why I asked you for a divorce. I haven’t heard from Mr. Bennett yet. When I do I’ll let you know. And I wouldn’t dream of demanding my pictures from you, so forget that. You may certainly keep them with all of my good wishes and much love. Mother doesn’t have any inkling of this. She did not know of me writing you, of my request from Mr. Bennett, nor of your reply to me, so don’t think I am being advised or “ribbed”. You know me far better than that. I worried a lot, when you had the food riot there and I’m fed up with worries, and God knows I have plenty of my own, so I do think I’d be perhaps a little happier, in placing you in the background and coasting along with just my own problems. You don’t pay any attention or me or my advice anyway. You don’t seem to consider that any “acting up” you feel obliged to do reflects on me too, as for some reason we are more or less judged equally by the Dept. YOU’LL no doubt be angry at this letter, and if I have been wrongfully steered in somethings, I will eventually know. Take care of yourself and think a few things over, and tell me, whether you are nourishing any hair brained schemes, in that brain of yours to further spoil our peaceful old age together, or not? You should have found your true honest self by now, you were never bad, we both simply “thought wrong” and if this doesn’t give you any idea of WHY I asked you to release me, then I can’t explain. I will write you on the 1st, so keep smiling, and try to see our problem as I see it, and don’t feel badly—I am, Devotedly, Kathryn

Mrs. George R. Kelly F 85 Terminal Is. Calif.

P.S. Honey, I have just read a letter from your Father Clark. Will you kindly thank him, and tell him that I appreciate his advice and interest in the two of us. And if you will really be happier as things are, just forget that I ever mentioned the word divorce. And behave yourself and try to be what I want you to be; and I shall endeavor to be all to you that I have been in the past, as long as you play the game square. I do want you to keep your mind strictly upon a legitimate basis for our future together. Because the time will eventually come when we shall begin a new life and I do want it to be normal, happy and honest. Now don’t worry, and be sweet; and let’s do this bit of time with the best of grace and cheerfully. We can you know, and if you really love me as you say, you should be able to keep smiling with me, and keep your mind free to a degree of prison non-essentials, and small annoyances, and instead look forward to at some future date, creating with me, the life together that I desire. I do love you, you know Mr.; so shall we forget, and will you be honest with me and tell me exactly how you feel? Whether your aim is honesty in the future, that will sometime re-unite us, or whether you might feel that “the world owed you a living” and mess our lives all up again in our old age. I am feeling fine. I sho’ did want that early transfer to Texas though, to see the folks. But, it will come later I hope. I must say bye. Wish I could see you, I do, I do. Now, settle down and be happy. “heart of heart” and let me hear from you soon. Devotedly, your Katrinka

* * *

Mrs. George R. Kelly F-85 Terminal Island. Calif.

September 26, 1941.

Mr. Jas A. Johnston, Warden

Dear Sir:

I should like to talk to you about my being transferred to one of the other institutions. I have never broached the subject to you before because I thought that I didn’t have adequate time served here; now I feel that I have. I will not say that my record here has been exemplary, but I think, on the whole, that it is far from being what one would consider bad.

The first thing I would like to call your attention to is the fact that I was not sent here for any violation of the rules in Leavenworth, but because of my record outside. On arrival, I was put in isolation and held there until Sept. 4, 1934 when the first shipment was made to Alcatraz. I might mention that previous to 1933 I served three years in Leavenworth—one year a trusty, driving the city truck—without a single report.

As you know the discipline of Alcatraz is not rigorous but it is strict, and the facilities for recreation and diversion are practically non-existent. I have served a little more than seven years in Alcatraz and, while not meaning to be flippant, I would say that seven years in this climate could not be considered a bagatelle judged by either the Gregorian or by the Julian calendar.

I do not want you to take this letter as an attitude of complaint, far from it, I am merely trying to explain my side of the question.

To be frank, I want to be transferred for reasons almost too numerous to enumerate. I should like to be in a place where I can go on the yard in the summer afternoons and enjoy the sunshine for a few months of the year. It is true that we have our yard periods here, but I know that you are fair enough to admit that with the high winds, the lack of sunshine, and for want of space, the yard is more of an aggravation than a diversion. I should also like to be where I can earn a few dollars each month in one of the industries. I am not what is known as a work horse, but I do apply myself and am not a shirker. My wife rarely has any money for the few trifles that she needs, such as newspapers, rouge, lipstick and her occasional cigarette. That applies to her mother also. If I were able to earn enough to take care of that one item I would feel that I was being of some help to my wife and making things a little more pleasant for her. My wife and I still own a little property in Texas, but the rentals just barely pay the taxes and take care of the repairs. We are trying our best to hold on to the property so that Kathryn will not be destitute when she does get out. What cash I had at the time of my arrest has been expended in educating and taking care of my daughter during the six years that she was alone previous to her marriage. So, you can readily see why I should like to be where I could earn a little something.

I am not going to say that I care nothing about the radio because I do; I am a radio bug. And the afternoon papers would not be amiss. The weekly shows during the winter would also be quite a treat. Besides I could have a visit occasionally if I were closer to home.

Mr. Johnston, I am broad minded enough to realize that a prison of this type cannot have all these things and coddle the inmates. I am not complaining of the system—it must serve some good purpose—but why discriminate? After all, there are around 14,000 men in Federal prisons, all pretty much alike. Many of them are long timers with far worse records both inside and out than mine is. I am not a trouble maker nor am I an agitator; I can get along amicably anywhere. Why shouldn’t I be given a chance elsewhere? Then if I am scatter brained enough to abuse the privilege then I should be brought back and kept here without any complaint on my part.

I should like an interview with you to talk this over; the reason that I am writing you before hand is so that the audacity of my asking for a transfer will not come as too much of a shock.

Respectfully yours,

Geo. R. Kelly, Reg. No. 117

* * *

From Geo. R. Kelly #117 November 2, 1944

Alcatraz Island, California

To Mr. Francis Biddle Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir,

About two years ago I talked with Mr. Bennett concerning my being transferred to some other Institution. At the time he implied that, in my particular case, his hands were tied; that it was entirely up to the Attorney General. The inference was that Attorney General Cummings had instituted some ruling to the effect that if the question of my being transferred did arise, the decision was wholly up to him. What I should like to know is, does that ruling still stand, now that Mr. Cummings has been out of office for six years?

I am one of the original homesteaders of Alcatraz, having been here now for over ten years. There are only about eight or ten of us left who came out in the first shipments and I understand that at least five of them do not wish to be transferred either because they have relatives close by who visit them each month, or because they feel that their time is now too short to make a change.

Last week I talked with Warden Johnston and he was non-committal as to whether he would recommend my transfer but did suggest that I see Mr. Bennett when he next came to Alcatraz. In view of the fact that Mr. Bennett told me at my last interview that it was out of his hands, I thought it best to get your advice.

Not that I am trying to commercialize on my boys’ patriotism but I have two sons in the Armed Forces. My oldest boy is a First Lieutenant in the Air Corps and has been overseas for thirty-three months. My other son is a Corporal in the Medical Corps and is now stationed at Camp Hawze, Texas. My son in law has taught aeronautics and ground-flying at the University of Arizona for over two years. I mention this merely to show you something of my background.

Regardless of what you have heard of Alcatraz it is far from being a pleasant place to do time. The climate is murderous and I, personally, have suffered from chronic sinus trouble for years. The recreation facilities are practically nil. I realize that is the way the department wants it, but to me it seems like an exceptionally wide discrimination is shown between the men of Alcatraz and the men in the other Federal Institutions. I should like to be where I could read a newspaper and listen to the radio for a change after ten years here. If I were in Leavenworth or Atlanta my children could also visit me. Incidentally, both my conduct record and my work record are good here.

This letter is intended solely in the vein of one seeking advice. Shall I go further into the matter with the Warden and Mr. Bennett or is it entirely in your hands? I should appreciate your advising me as to what steps to take.

Very truly yours,

Geo. R. Kelly - #117

* * *

From Geo. R. Kelly #117 April 1, 1945

Alcatraz, California

To Mr. Jas. V. Bennett Washington D.C.

Dear Sir,

Some time ago I wrote the Attorney General in order to find out how he felt about my being transferred to another Institution. In view of the fact that my letter was referred to you, his attitude must be one of indifference or else his prejudice was only a figment of my imagination that formed in my mind from inferences that were made during my interview with you. Now that your hands are no longer tied in so far as my being transferred is concerned I can get down to cases.

As you know, I am not one to wail and moan over my lot but in all fairness I think I have been kept in Alcatraz far too long considering my record both here and outside. If all Federal Prisoners were run along the same lines as Alcatraz you wouldn’t hear a peep out of me. Under the circumstances I consider there has been a wide discrimination shown between the men here and those in other Federal prisons. I know there are many long timers in Atlanta, Leavenworth, and elsewhere whose records are much worse than mine. Why aren’t they on the “Rock”? My record here is good and by no standard am I a trouble maker. Why then can’t I enjoy the few privileges that men in the other prisons are getting?

Anyone will tell you this Island has the worst climate in the United States. I have been suffering with sinus trouble for years. My left ear has been running for four years and I have repeatedly tried to have it and my nose operated on, with no success. I could at least get treatment for these ailments elsewhere. I realize all of the men who originally opened up Alcatraz were sort of guinea-pigs. No doubt some of us were kept here to justify the expenditure. After eleven years the place doesn’t need justifying – it is here to stay; consequently I feel the Department could spare me from the Rock quite easily. Alcatraz would be just as much a threat over the inmates of other prisons if I were in a Federal road camp.

There is another point. My boys in the army find it very embarrassing to receive a letter with a big ALCATRAZ on it. I realize I should have thought of that twelve years ago when I put Mr. Ursohel in the basement but that is neither here nor there – the fact is I am here and I believe I merit a transfer on my record alone. If it is the policy of the Depart to make it as humiliating on a prisoner’s relatives as they can, I have nothing further to say about that angle.

Your reply to the letter I wrote Mr. Biddle was very indefinite. I believe Warden Johnston said, “Mr. Bennett will see you when he comes here next year.” How about transferring me and seeing me in Atlanta next year? While I think of it, don’t you think you could see your way clear to let me write Kathy each week? Those semi-monthly letters are pretty far apart.

In the event you do come to Alcatraz before I am transferred I should like to have a talk with you, maybe I can convert you to my way of thinking – naturally I mean about a transfer. I talked with Dr. Bixby a few weeks ago; he looked better than Clark Gable in uniform. I hope to see you soon,

Respectfully yours,

Geo. R. Kelly #117

* * *

From Geo. R. Kelly #117 October 1, 1950

Alcatraz, California

Mr. Jas. V. Bennett Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir,

I thought I would drop you a few lines as a reminder that I still want a transfer to one of the other Institutions. There is a rumor floating around now that there is to be a transfer in the near future and I am looking forward to being on it since it has been almost eight months since our interview. Bear in mind that I have been here over 16 years and with the two years Industrial goodtime I have earned I have served the equivalent of a 27 year sentence in Alcatraz alone. You know why I was sent to Alcatraz in the first place — because it was the policy of Atty. Gen. Cummings to isolate anyone who had gotten any publicity. You have transferred other kidnappers; you have transferred murderers, bank robbers, rape cases etc. You transferred Bailey years ago and he was in the same case so why discriminate. On my conduct and work record alone I feel I merit a transfer. I am the only man left who originally opened up this place in 1934. In June 1948 your classification Board here unanimously recommended that I be transferred. Doesn’t their decision of over two years ago have any bearing on the case. You will admit that as prisons go Alcatraz is low man on the totem pole. For whatever you can do you have my sincere thanks and best wishes.

Very truly yours

Geo. R. Kelly #117

* * *

Machine Gun Kelly and close friend Willie Radkay are seen watching fellow inmates play a game of bridge in the Recreation Yard. Radkay shared a neighboring cell (#240) to Kelly (#238) in Block B and they worked together in the industries along with Basil “The Owl” Banghart and Harvey Bailey.

Basil “The Owl” Banghart

Willie Radkay (seen here at Alcatraz in 2001) was imprisoned on the Rock from 1945 to 1952. Alcatraz was a small community made up of the “Cream of the Criminal Crop” and strong bonds endured even following many inmates’ releases back into free society. Outside of prison Radkay maintained close friendships with inmates Dale Stamphill and Harvey Bailey. Radkay described Kelly as a deeply reflective and intelligent man who was well liked by most of the inmate population. Kelly loved to read the classics and books about the Old West. He held a reputation for boasting incessantly of his early crime escapades, which some inmates found irritating. Radkay, however, enjoyed the good company and long conversations. “He was a damn good friend to pass the time with,” Radkay commented in 2004. Radkay’s criminal path to Alcatraz spanned far into his youth. At only 16 years old, Radkay climbed a fence at a local airport to get a glimpse inside Charles Lindbergh’s historic Spirit of St. Louis airplane during a goodwill tour in late 1927. While the aviator was distracted doing interviews at the tail of the plane, Radkay managed to reach inside the cockpit and pull from under the seat a bag of cookies, a magazine, and a stopwatch.

* * *

From Geo. R. Kelly #44131 June 1951

Leavenworth, Kansas

To Fr. Joseph M. Clark San Francisco, CA

Dear Father,

I just received a letter from Bob telling of you and Dick visiting him and going to Warner Bros. Bob seems to think Mr. Foy is going to get him in some of the pictures going into production. Did he make any kind of definite promise to you? I have seen all of the old timers from Alcatraz and the majority ask about you. I didn’t like this place at first but I am getting used to it and if I can get a single cell I think I will feel like I am outside. When I reached here the fellows sent me candy – cigarettes – pleasing outfits and I don’t know what all. The yard is so big it looks like the State of Texas to me. We have had lots of rain but I’ve really enjoyed the few days sunshine we did have. Pauline and family are now in Okla. City with Olin’s mother – she is dying from cancer – and later they are going to settle in Wichita. Lots of letters from Kay and in the one I received today she said Mr. Shannon and some friends were anxious to try something in their case but didn’t want to make a move until the Parole Board had said “yes” or “no”. As things now stand that may be another year. Do you think you could call Mr. Boyle and have him speed the Board’s decision up a bit? Both Kay and Ora are feeling fairly good but are nervous wrecks from the waiting and uncertainty. I’m sure a word from you to Boyle or Leslie might turn the trick. In my opinion, I think they are going to grant the parole but are putting it off as they as they did in Murphy’s case. I started to work in Industries today in the Brush Factory and am in line for a splendid job that will be open in early October. You know Father, I didn’t realize anyone could wise a person as I have you. I am so used to our Sat. and Sun. chats that I actually wake up expecting you on those days. Maybe in a few years Kay and I will be visiting you in San Francisco and I mean for a week or two. I haven’t been able to get you on my correspondence list but am writing you a special purpose letter. If you will attach a short note to the warden or to Mr. Miller, the Parole Officer, in the letter you write me telling them you wish to correspond with me they will place you on my list and I can write you whenever I like. Many thanks for taking care of bob and to repeat myself you are the swellest person in the world in my estimation. Give Fr. Hasting my jumbo size hello and take good care of yourself. With kindest regards and best wishes I am as ever, Geo.

Geo. R. Kelly #44131

* * *

George Kelly following his transfer back to USP Leavenworth in June 1951.

From Geo. R. Kelly 44131 Jan. 1, 1952

Leavenworth, Kansas

To Mrs. Kathryn Kelly Anderson W. VA. Box A

Darling, You have known me so long that you are practically able to read my mind. Although you hadn’t received my two letters yet, you already knew just about what my advice would be. In view of the soft soap the P.B. gave you in the denial it would be quite a gamble to antagonize them I guess. They may be on the verge of doing something but I doubt it as I can’t see where a few months would change their minds or attitude. (There was a fellow here who had been on the Rock for a few years who made parole on a 30 year sentence yesterday.) He had been denied many times and his partner was paroled to Ward in Minneapolis about three years ago; so you can’t ever tell what the board intends doing. Father Clark burns me up also. Not only over not keeping the appointment with Helen but the many things he did contrary to what I told him even in Word. He won’t take any particular stand and stick with it. (The new men came in from Alcatraz and there wasn’t a single one in the shipment who was a friend of mine. There were at least a half dozen of real old times who I expected to make this shipment but missed the boat.) I am still in the Hospital and feel fairly good I guess. I got up for about five minutes today but I was a lot weaker than I thought so I had to crawl back in bed. I think in another week I’ll be able to go back to work. This is quite a hospital here. It is new and has about six or seven wards I guess. The nurses are all inmates and treat me just about as well as could be expected anywhere. I didn’t know Pearl had the Post Office there. As soon as I am back in my cell I am going to write a letter to Mr. Freeman and I think from what I have to say it will go to him instead of one of the Bureaus. I’ll get a copy of the Jan. Red Book as soon as I am out of here. Now that I am in the hospital they are ready to install the bridge, which is impossible as long as I am in bed. Like you said, Angel, after this is over we will be immune to anything and nothing can hurt us. A letter came from Bob and I think you will hear from him in a day or so, if you haven’t already received a letter from him. Excuse the poor notes lately, sugar, because your husband isn’t up to doing a very good job of writing just now. I’ll do better next week. I’ll write as usual Sunday and in the mean time, I’ll be thinking of you and loving you with all my heart. My love to your Mother and lots of kisses to my adorable wife. Your from Geo.

Geo. R. Kelly #44131

* * *

One of the last photos of “Machine Gun” Kelly, taken just prior to his death in 1954.

July 21, 1954

Mrs. Kathryn Kelly

Federal Reformatory for Women

Alderson, West Virginia

Through the Warden

Dear Mrs. Kelly:

It is with deepest sympathy that we write you about your husband, George R. Kelly, who passed away at this institution on Saturday, July 17, 1954. Although he had been having mild symptoms of coronary heart disease for many years, his death came as a surprise. He had been hospitalized on several occasions, but periods of hospitalization were short. Adjustments in his program from time to time made it possible for him to get along quite comfortably. He was admitted to the hospital the evening of July 16, 1954, but his condition was not considered alarming. He had moderate pain in the chest and shortness of breath, which was relieved promptly by morphine and oxygen. At midnight he was feeling cheerful and comfortable but shortly thereafter complained of greatly increased pain and shortness of breath. A copy of the Certificate of Death is enclosed.

In accordance with your instructions the body was shipped to your step-father, Mr. R.G. Shannon, Paradise, Texas, being consigned to the C.L. Christian Funeral Home, at Decatur, Texas, Scheduled to arrive at 2:52 P.M., July 19. We also wired a son, Mr. Robert O. Trimback, 538-½ Barrington Avenue, Los Angeles, California, in accordance with your request. Western Union informed us however, that they were unable to deliver the message in as much as no one was home at the address given.

You will probably be interested in knowing that our Catholic Chaplain reports that your husband showed an increased interest in his religious duties after his transfer to this institution in June 1951. The Chaplin states that he interviewed George in July of this year and George assured him that he had made his Easter duty and attended Mass regularly twice a month.

As you probably know from his letters to you he worked as a timekeeper and clerk in the Furniture Factory where he was rated as a very satisfactory clerk.

Since 1940 he got along with others. I enclosed a copy of a letter sent to your step-father, at his request, the information to be used in arranging for funeral services.

I appreciate your letter of July 18. In regard to a keepsake, we are forwarding to your step-father at Paradise, Texas, the following personal items which your husband had in his locker:

1 each Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary

2 pairs Eyeglasses

1 pair Sunglasses

2 each Daily Missals

1 each Rosary

1 each Pocket Watch

2 each Fountain Pens

1 each Mechanical pencil

1 each Padlock

1 each Nail Clipper

15 pkgs Cigarettes, Philip Morris

2 each Hair brushes

1 tube Colgate dental cream

2 cakes Woodbury soap

1 lot Letters

1 lot Photographs

1 lot Papers regarding case

1 Transcript of Record- Kathryn Thorne Kelly vs. United States of America

There is $104.56 in George’s commissary account and there will be an additional credit when the July patrol is posted on August 15. When the exact amount is determined, we will advise you and forward claim forms to be completed by you.

My I on behalf of our entire staff, express our heartfelt sympathy to you and other members of the family in this hour of bereavement.

Very truly yours,

C.H. Looney

Warden

* * *

July 18, 1954

Warden, Looney

Leavenworth, Kansas

Dear Sir:

May I extend my appreciation to you, to the institution, the medical staff, and the inmates and friends of my husband there, for your kindness and care of him. I was comforted after talking with you yesterday. I telephoned Mr. Shannon and all arrangements with the Decatur Texas funeral home had been completed. I thought you might be able to mail a few little keepsakes of his personal property home for me. I know he had a fountain pen, he loved, which he wrote me with, that I would like to have just any small thing you may be able to give me. Anything of that sort if possible please mail to:

Mr. R.G. Shannon

Paradise, Texas. [my step-father]

Thank you for your present and past consideration

With all good wishes,

Sincerely,

Kathryn Kelly

* * *

Albert Bates was a co-conspirator of Kelly in the Urschel kidnapping case. He was sent to Alcatraz due to his profile status and special custody needs. This letter was sent directly to Urschel relating to his ransom.

Harvey Bailey and Willie Radkay at the “Outlaw,” a private club in Kansas City in 1973. Both remained good friends outside of prison. Bailey was a co-conspirator with Kelly and Bates in the Urschel kidnapping case and was sent to Alcatraz along with Kelly in 1934. Bailey would spend 12 years on the Rock. He died in Joplin, Missouri at 91 years of age.

A. L. Bates – 137

TO:

Mr. C. F. Urschel

U.S. Penitentiary

F. O. Box 1146

Alcatraz, California

Oklahoma City, Okla.

October 1, 1942

Dear Sir:

Your letter of September 10th was forwarded to me by Mr. James V. Bennett, Director, Bureau of Prisons, and though there is little that I can divulge about the case that isn’t known, I can answer your query in reference to the division of the ransom money.

After Kelly and I received the money from Mr. Kirkpatrick in Kansas City we returned directly to the Shannon Ranch, arriving there about 2 p.m., on Monday, July 31, 1933. We retired to the front room of the house and divided the money in privacy. Kelly had a “nut” (as we refer to an expense account in connection with any job), of $11,500.00. I did not inquire what it was for simply because it was customary for each individual of outfits like ours to keep a record of his expenses on our various enterprises. I do know that we abandoned a new Buick of his on the night of July 29th about 2 or 3 miles northeast of Luther, Oklahoma, alongside the “Katy” tracks. (There was a humorous side to that incident, but I do not wish to infringe upon Mr. Kirkpatrick as a story teller. I read “Crime’s Paradise” and also tried to purchase his anthology of poems, “Dim Trails,” but was informed that it was privately printed).

I received the sum of $94,250.00 for my “end”, and when I left the room to clean up a bit on the back porch I saw Bailey was still there, although he had told me four days previous that his friends would call for him not later than Saturday. I had warned him that the place was “hot” on account of our past activities in Texas and our connections with detective friends, Messrs. Weatherford and Sweeny of Ft. Worth. I was in a hurry to get the job over with so I did not converse much with anyone. I gave Bailey $500.00 out of my pocket and Kelly did likewise. I left the farm with $93,750.00.

When we released you at Norman, Kelly and I separated. I drove via Chickasha to Amarillo, thence to Denver. My wife was in Portland, Oregon, where I communicated with her, advising her to return to Denver immediately. I put $50,000.00 in a bag with surplus clothes, locked it, and left it with friends to keep until my wife called for it. I left instructions in a letter addressed to her in my post office box for her to rent an apartment upon arrival and to leave the address in that box. I had been under a tremendous strain for a week, on the go night and day, so I decided I’d have a little pleasure in Denver. I don’t believe I spent over $1,000.00 during the three days I stayed there. I then went by plane to Minneapolis where I rejoined the Kelly’s as prearranged. I arrived there on August 5th. The following day the three of us drove to Mills Lak, a resort. Kelly told me he was leaving early the next day for Cleveland and in the event anything of importance occurred to wire him. I told him I brought $42,000.00 with me. The next day, at the Boulevards of Paris, a roadhouse, Jack Phifer, (now deceased) got word via the grapevine that the “0” were concentrating in the Twin Cities. He learned that four of his crew had been arrested and held incommunicado. I warned Kelly by wire and left that night for Omaha and Denver.

When I was alone in the apartment my wife had rented I put $41,000.00 in the same bag with the $50,000.00. I probably spent about $2,000.00 all told and had $700.00 on me when I was arrested three days after returning to Denver. I told my wife when I left the apartment on the date of my arrest that there was over $90,000.00 in a locked bag in the clothes closet.

Roy Gardner, 110-AZ

Roy Gardner

“The talking pictures are wonderful. You will be surprised when you hear the melodrama voice of the famous Will Rogers. He sure makes you laugh when he opens up that nice looking mouth of his.”

-Letter to Roy Gardner, 1932

Much of Alcatraz’s early reputation had been congealed by early inmate accounts printed across the nation in newspapers and magazines ranging from true crime to trendy lifestyle themed publications. The cold veil of secrecy made stories of life inside the prison popular reading for the public at large, and Roy Gardner helped sustain that intrigue by writing prolifically about his experiences at Alcatraz in various news and media venues. Roy Gardner served at Alcatraz from 1934 until 1936, and was well-known publicly as one of the last notorious train robbers from the old western era.

Gardner spent two years incarcerated on Alcatraz. After his ultimate release in 1938, he peddled a small informational book at the Golden Gate International Exposition on Treasure Island and narrated boat tours for San Francisco tourists. Gardner was known to the public as a brilliant escape artist, and he was famous for his Houdini-like jailbreaks, including a magnificent escape from a Mexican jail, when just three days before his scheduled execution before a firing squad, he amazingly overpowered his sentry and fled back across the border to Arizona. He was later captured in San Francisco for robbery and finally found himself imprisoned at USP Leavenworth.

Surprisingly, Gardner volunteered to be transferred to Alcatraz. He claimed that he wanted to go straight, and felt that this would bring him closer to his friends and family. Gardner was destined to do hard time during his 25 month imprisonment at Alcatraz. Warden Johnston had assigned him to work in the mat shop, and he would later comment that USP Leavenworth and USP Atlanta were summer resorts compared to the Rock. He wrote:

The hopeless despair on the Rock is reflected in the faces and actions of almost all of the inmates. They seem to march about the island in a sort of hopelessness, helpless daze, and you can watch them progressively sinking down and down... On “the Rock” there are upwards of three hundred men. One hundred fifty will die there. Sometime – in ten, fifteen, twenty-five years – the others come out into the world. These, too, are dead; the walking dead. The men confined there, to all intents and purposes, are buried alive. In reality they are little more than animated cadavers – dead men who are still able to walk and talk. Watching those men from day to day slowly giving up hopes is truly a pitiful sight, even if you are one of them.

Gardner was transferred back to USP Leavenworth in 1936, and was finally released from prison in 1938. His wife had left him and remarried, and he drifted back to San Francisco to reestablish his life. In March 1939, he set up an exhibition booth at the Golden Gate International Exposition on Treasure Island. Gardner recounted to patrons his law-breaking stories of violence and torture, and autographed his self-published memoir entitled Hellcatraz. Gardner’s show, entitled Crime Doesn’t Pay, failed to draw large crowds, and eventually closed. He would later spend a brief period working as a narrator on a San Francisco tour boat, before finally hitting rock bottom and taking on employment as a baker in San Francisco. His days of fame and dreamed fortunes had now passed.

Distraught, elderly, and without friends, he committed suicide at the Hotel Governor, in San Francisco on January 10, 1940. Using cyanide, sulfuric acid, and a bath towel, he draped the bathroom sink and covered his head, creating a makeshift gas chamber. On the door was a warning note to the maid: “Do Not Open Door - Poison Gas - Call Police.” Gardner had also left the maid a small cash tip for cleaning out his belongings. His suitcase stood neatly in a corner of his room, and the shower curtain was neatly folded across the floor to prevent any mess. Additionally, he had already made burial arrangements with Halsted and Company, a local funeral home, leaving their phonebook advertisement neatly clipped to his belongings.

The San Francisco Examiner provided some thought-provoking perspective on the last years of Gardener’s troubled life in this excerpt from a January 12, 1940 article:

Gardner was ill in body and in mind. There was the heart condition he spoke about in the undertaking parlor. Six months to live—what was the use? He had written prison exposes of the “crime doesn’t pay” variety, sold a script to a Hollywood producer, lectured in dingy little theaters—ended up exhausted, mentally bankrupt.

But Gardner had friends. The cops on the beat liked him. The newsboy who sold him a paper at 2:30 Thursday afternoon at the corner of Turk and Jones Streets, and thereby fixed the time of his death almost to the hour - thought he was a fine fellow.

The druggist at the same corner liked to chat with the soft-spoken ex-convict; the waiter in the café around the corner was glad to serve him, because he always left a tip and had a cheery thing or two to say.

Even the wife who divorced him two years ago - Mrs. Will Parker of Napa - expressed great sorrow, said that “Roy just hadn’t been able to adjust himself to the world.”

Gardner was no angel—inside of prison or out. He liked to gamble at cards and to play the races. He was too free with the money he made, too generous, and he became an easy mark, whom chance acquaintances found profitable to cultivate.

Thus did Roy Gardner live and die.

To Dr. Yoke

From: Roy Gardner #110

Dr. Yoke I am taking this method to protest against unnecessary cruelty. The food that is constantly setting here under my nose is not tempting in any way to me. Instead it is nauseating.

Under those circumstances I feel justified in asking you to discontinue having food placed in my cell. Of course I could display my ill nature by knocking it off the floor, but I don’t want to do that, in fact, I am not going to do it, because I do not wish to offend the attendants who are instructed to place the food in here. It is not their fault.

Won’t you discontinue that practice please?

Respectfully submitted,

Roy Gardner

* * *

Leavenworth, Kansas 1924

To: Hon. H.H. Votaw

Supt. of Federal Prisons

Sir: My wife is now in Washington endeavoring to obtain from Attorney General Stone permission to have an operation performed on me for the purpose of relieving the pressure on my brain.

I understand that she bears recommendations from federal officials at Phoenix, Arizona, also letters from well-known surgeons setting forth their opinions in detail. The x-ray pictures that my wife carries show very plainly the portion of my skull that is pressing on my brain, not withstanding Dr. Yokis’ opinion to the contrary. Whether this pressure has any connection with the criminal tendencies I have displayed since the accident causing the pressure, is problematical. I am well aware of the dangerous character of this operation but the possibilities of success which would return make me at some future date to return to society with all thoughts of crime obliterated from my mind, and make it possible for me to resume the life of a law abiding citizen, causes the danger of the operation resulting fatally to appear inconsequential. If I survive my present term of confinement and return to society with my mind intend on further crimes, what have I profited and in what manner has society gained by my long confinement? I state to you in all sincerity that my thoughts everyday dwell on criminal activities even as they did before my incarceration.

This statement may prove to be detrimental any opportunity I might have now for release in future years, but I do not desire to evade the issue. It would be unfair both to myself and society, if I should be released in my present state of mine, the cure of which I believe, lies in this operation that my wife is endeavoring to obtain through the approval of Attorney General Stone.

Down in my heart I know and realize to the fullest extent, the futility of crime. If I possessed the ability to defeat or evade the man-made laws of achieving the perpetration of the so-called “perfect crime” my ultimate defeat by the law of compensation, which is infallible in its operation would be inevitable. Although I am capable of seeing these things in the proper light, and know in my own mind that crime cannot be successful, I state to you frankly, that if I were released tomorrow, I sincerely believe a sack of registered mail would be too great a temptation for me to resist.

What else, other than a disorder of the brain would cause me to do things that I know I cannot be successful in, things that I do not want to do and which I know can only result in suffering for my family and myself. It is in the realization of the hopelessness of the situation in my present condition that I send this letter to you with the earnest appeal that my application might receive careful consideration before this one ray of hope, uncertain and fraught with danger as it is. I believe the attorney General’s action on my application will depend too on a great extent upon your recommendation, and I place my appeal in your hands with full confidence that you will accord it every consideration for which I will be truly grateful.

Respectfully submitted,

RAY GARDNER

#17060

P.S. I would appreciate a private interview with you if you can find it convenient to grant me a few minutes of your time.

Roy Gardner

* * *

Leavenworth, Kansas

May 7, 1923

To: Mr. H.H. Votaw

Supt. of Federal Prisons

Dear Sir:

This is to protest against the treatment now being accorded my wife by W.J. Biddle.

Some two months ago, I was indiscreet enough to produce a one-dollar bill that I had secured before being confined in isolation, and Mr. Biddle immediately seized it as a protest and, after subjecting my wife to a verbal grilling in his office, he continued his unwarranted persecution by suspending her visiting privileges. Seeing me for one hour every two weeks is the only pleasure the girl gets and to have that pleasure denied her on the unsupported and unwarranted suspicion of Mr. J. Biddle is, to put it mildly, unjust and ungentlemanly. If he wants to punish me for being in possession of the dollar, I am ready to stand but I am not now and never will be reconciled to having my wife punished for something that she knew absolutely nothing about. I appeal to you as Supt. of Federal Prisons Mr. Votaw, to instruct the Warden to cease his unwarranted persecution of my wife.

If he can provide one iota of evidence against her, outside of his perverted suspicion, then I will gladly withdraw his complaint.

Respectfully submitted,

ROY GARDNER

OFFICE OF THE WARDEN

September 21, 1929

* * *

TO A.H. McCormick

Assistant Superintendent of Prisons

Department of Justice

Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir:

I am in receipt of your letter of September 18th with further reference to Roy Gardner, Reg. No. 20580. As suggested by you, I have arranged with Dr. J. Calvin Weaver, former Prison Physician, to call today for a conference with Dr. Cross regarding the advisability of feeding him by force. This is his twelfth day of fasting and, from his outward appearances; he shows no signs of weakening. From the beginning of his fast, it has been my intention to resort to these measures, and I have informed him, in no uncertain terms, that unless he will willingly submit to being fed or to voluntarily break the strike, playing the manly part himself, it is our intention to forcibly feed him. He tells us that he will resist any such efforts, even to the extent of losing his life. Just how much of this attitude on his part if bluff, I am not in a position to say, but judging the future by the past, we anticipate some trouble with him as he succeeded in getting his released from isolation on two occasions by using these same tactics. Until after the conference of the physicians, I shall not determine just when the forcible feeding will be started, but I am inclined to think that such a move will be unwise until he has lost some of his physical strength. He is a physical giant and will put up a desperate fight for the time being, at least.

Gardner has been confined in Isolation Quarters since his attempted escape July 18, 1928 (one year and two month). Since the completion of the stockade wall, about August 12, he has had thirty minutes exercise in the morning and thirty minutes in the afternoon of each day. Three times daily he is furnished regular meals, served to him in his cell, of the same quality as that which is furnished other prisoners in the dining room. He receives the daily papers and is given books from the library by the Chaplain. He is confined in a single cell, which is 20 ft, 5 in. long, 8 ft wide, and 12 ft high, facing the sough side of the building, with a window 3 ft 8 in wide and 6 ft 8 in high. His cell is equipped with running water. Because of his depressed attitude, it has been decided to forego his exercise for a few days; least he should attempt suicide by jumping from the second story where he is quartered.

I shall keep you informed, from time to time, as to the status of the case.

Respectfully yours,

A.C. Aderhold

Warden

* * *

September 23, 1929

Mr. A.C.A.

Re: 20850, Gardner

I also want to call your attention to a similar case in this institution some several years ago. The procedure followed for this man was to force his feedings. This was done but the amount of trauma, irritation, together with the amount of energy used by the prisoner in his struggles trying to prevent such feedings made the officials very doubtful as to whether or not very much good was gained by such procedure. However, the man was kept alive for a period of 62 days, but finally died.

In looking over the reports on Roy Gardner from the Leavenworth Penitentiary, I find a report of a similar action by him while incarcerated in that institution. At this time, October 10, 1925, Major Edgar King, consultant analyst to the Leavenworth Penitentiary, was asked to examine him. The summary of his report was: First, that Gardner was of a constitutional psychopathic, very unstable and paranoid, suffering at the time from a marked paranoid reaction motivated by the situation in which he now finds himself. Second, that transfer to Saint Elizabeth’s Hospital, Washington, D.C. was not recommended, but that a transfer to the Atlanta Penitentiary was recommended, the reason being that the present episode, or mental disorder, would possibly pass away as a result of a change in environment. It was also stated that it was possible that he may not have a further episode of similar nature, but that it was not very probable, and that if he did have a recurrence of the above mental disorder, a transfer to Saint Elizabeth’s should be recommended.

Dr. J. Galvin Weaver, a former physician to the United States Penitentiary here, was asked to see Gardner in consultation, because the case outlined above in which forced feedings were attempted was handled during his time as Prison Physician. It was deemed advisable to have Dr. Weaver see this man and perhaps receive his opinion on the advisability of forced feedings. His advice and impressions will not be given in this letter, but will be submitted in a separate report from him.

Respectfully yours,

J.B. Cross

Assistant Physician

* * *

November 12, 1929

To: Friend - Louie

Hello Friend of Mine:

Yours of Oct. 1st received on Wednesday. It went to Alcatraz first and then came here.

That five spot surely came in handy because my system craved sugar and I am spending it for candy and chocolate.

Many thanks my friend. As soon as I fatten up I will be sitting pretty, because the food here is excellent, and the doctors in charge of the hospital are the most considerate men I ever met. We are not treated like convicts. In fact we are treated just the same as other patients who are not criminals.

Here is an example of how we are treated. The other day Dr. Gilbert took me to his office for a mental examination and he addressed me as Mr. Gardner. Can you imagine a penitentiary official doing that? And what is more I smoked his cigarettes during the examination. If I held my hand on my hip until a prison official gave me cigarettes I surely would die a cripple. Dr. Gilbert is a highly educated man and a splendid fellow also.

I wish Louie you would send Dr. Gilbert a transcript of the trial in Phoenix if you have a copy of it. If not, then write up the facts in a letter and send it to him. It will help him in making up his records of me. Tell him especially about Dr. Ferguson’s testimony when he said I was insane until the pressure on my brain was removed. Dr. Lind and Dr. Gilbert are not interested in physical or legal troubles. They are brain specialist and interested in brain troubles only.

I am glad you wired Mr. Hoover because it sure got results. They suddenly got busy in Atlanta and took me out of there on the 4th of this month. The warden got a wire from Washington at 2:00 P.M. and I left two hours later that’s what I call action. What did you say to Mr. Hoover to get that much speed?

Now Louie don’t worry about me getting away from here. I am coming out of here a free man in less than two years, and I’m not “goofy” enough yet to spoil a chance like that by trying to get away.

You know Louie, I am quite a poker player, and I know the value of an ace in the hole and I am sure going to play the hand to win. The opportunity I now have to come out legally has knocked the get-away question into a “cocked hat”. So don’t worry any more about that.

Now about those five spots you have been sending me. When you send a check it has to go through the clearinghouse before I can spend it and that takes about 10 days. But if you put a bill in the letter I can spend it the same day I get it. Of course Louie, I appreciate those checks and if it wasn’t for you I never would get any smokes but I would rather have the cash.

You can tell me anything you want to tell me in your letters because our mail is not censored here and nobody will read your letters but me. If you have a couple of flannel shirts and some underwear that you don’t need I wish you would send them to me. You and I wear about the same size shirts, 16 and a half or 17. We wear civilian clothes here and I have only got what I have on my back now.

Write soon.

Always your friend,

Roy – Roy Gardner

St Elizabeth’s Hospital 3/7/33

* * *

September 23, 1929

May 9, 1930

Phoenix, Arizona

From: L.S. Sonney – 15 East Washington Street, Phoenix, Arizona

To: Chairman and Honorable Board of Parole

C/o Federal Penitentiary – Leavenworth, Kansas

Dear Sir and Gentlemen:

Pardon the liberty I take in addressing myself to you in behalf of Roy Gardner who is confined in the Federal Penitentiary. I am appealing to you to kindly use your consideration and give the poor man another chance, and grant him his parole and allow him return to his little loyal wife and child, who I am sorry to say are without any means of support. The wife has a slight touch of tuberculosis, and finds it almost impossible to support her little girl, but nevertheless she is making out a small pittance by working in the hospital. There is no doubt in my mind that Roy Gardner pulled many stunts, which has brought him in the shadow of the law. And it is also true that he has on other occasions made escapes from custody at the risk of life and limb. But it is also a fact that in all of his escapades, he hurt no one or did any person bodily harm, as he has been proved on every occasion that he came within notice of the law. He invariably had an empty gun.

I am the officer who arrested him in Centralia, Washington, June 1st 1921. While wearing a disguise on his face, when I walked in on him at his motel and got him under control, I myself saw that his gun was empty. Compare such a man with Jesse James who always wore two guns loaded to the brim. Roy Gardner perhaps would have been able to better prove his case were he at the time of his arrest, able to get good counsel, who could lay his case before a jury and show that he was at the time suffering from a slight ma___ caused by an accident in a mine some years previous, and which the learned psychiatrist at Washington D.C. claimed was responsible for his actions.

Please Gentlemen, have a little consideration for the poor man, give him another chance to prove that he can be a good honest American and I know gentlemen that you will be doing a real humane act.

In my experience and travels, I have found many thousands of people who would be glad to sign a petition on behalf of this poor man Roy Gardner. If it is necessary, I can start this petition to your kindness, and I know that I can get thousands of business men, and men with whom Roy Gardner has come in contact with while enjoying honest freedom to beg of you to please give him another chance.

Please Gentlemen, Please.

When Roy Gardner’s name is brought up before you for parole, use the power for good that is within you and give Roy Gardner another chance and I know that the Good Lord above will remember you for this one great act of clemency. Thank you gentlemen in advance for your attention to this, my petition in behalf of Roy Gardner.

Truly yours,

L.S. Sonney

L.S. Sonney. The man that arrested him at Centralia, Washington June 1st 1921.

* * *

June 23, 1932

To: A.H. MacCormick

Assistant Director Federal Prisons

Washington, D.C.

To: My Dear Mr. MacCormick

I talked with Mr. Bates yesterday and he told me of your efforts in my behalf. Please accept my sincere thanks Mr. MacCormick, and be assured you will never have cause to regret any action you have taken or may take in my behalf. I hope you never find yourself in a position where you need help, but should you find yourself in that position, I surely hope to be the man chosen to help you.

Should I be fortunate enough to make a parole, would it be possible for me to secure a commission in the Federal Service? (No stool pigeon service Mr. MacCormick, it would have to be a bonifide commission).

After 11 years of constant association with Federal law violators, I have learned things that could not have been learned in any other way. I am vain enough to believe that I know the secret thoughts and actions of Federal violators from mail bandits down to dope fiends well or better than any operative now in the Federal service. I know you have some clever operatives in the service, however they have not ate and slept with and listened to the confidences of as many Federal violators as I have. Also my reputation would give me enter into most any criminal circle and I could quickly secure evidence that would otherwise almost unobtainable through the regular channels of Federal investigation.

I realize Mr. MacCormick, this is an unusual request, however the unusual is a common occurrence in my life and I have become used to it.

If in your judgment this is a proper move for me to make, and you are willing to sponsor my application, please place me in communication with the proper authorities.

Of course Mr. McCormick, this is contingent on favorable action on my parole application by the Parole Board. I also wish to assure you that I will fulfill any and all recommendations you see fit to make in my behalf, and I will render absolutely honest service on any assignment I may get if I am fortunate enough to be accepted in the Federal service.

Please communicate with me though Warden Hudspeth, thus avoiding the prison censorship. My lawbreaking days are over now Mr. MacCormick, and I will appreciate an opportunity to prove that fact to the entire world and Federal officials in particular.

Very truly yours,

ROY GARDNER

* * *

September 28, 1932

To: Roy G. Gardner # 17080

Box 50 – Leavenworth, Kansas

From: L.S. Sonney

Dear Friend Roy:

I just received your letter and was very glad to hear from you. Yes, I have been coming east for a long time but you know how it is there is all ways something else before leaving home. I’ll be coming east about the 15th of next month. I have the ex. Chief of Police of Tulare, which he wants to buy one half of my wax show, and I just have to wait. You know Mr. Hudspeth your Warden didn’t send me any pass in order to see you. He stated in one of his letters that relatives are only allowed to see you. Too bad we are not brother-in-laws, according to his rules and regulations. Today I am writing to the Attorney General to see why I can’t be allowed to see you if that don’t give me any results, I will write direct to our President Hoover like I did before. You know I sure was surprised of you sending my letter to your wife. I always thought that you was a silent type. I have been telling people that when I turned you over to Marshall Hollahan he asked you, where did you get that gun that you stuck up his two deputies with? And your answer was, Marshall you never will know. Many people got a great kick out of that saying you never was a stooly, so I wish you would explain to me the reason why you sent the letter to your wife. I sure felt fully sorry, you should never have sent the letter to her and today I am in belief that something has come up from Napa preventing my visit. About your parole, you had better lay low and try to stay out of the hole otherwise you will lose by it.

I am sending you a five spot so you can smoke some Lucky’s. I hope you didn’t change the brand of the cigarettes that you used to use.

The talking pictures are wonderful. You will be surprised when you hear the melodrama voice of the famous Will Rogers. He sure makes you laugh when he opens up that nice looking mouth of his. Well this will be all for now, hoping to hear from you soon.

Your friend,

L.S. SONNEY

625 Stanford Ave

Los Angeles, California

* * *

February 31, 1933

To: Roy G. Gardner #17080

Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas

Mr. Gardner:

In searching my letter records that I always keep, I found some of your valuable promises that you have gave me for the last 11 years. I also want you to notice especially Letter No. 8, where you asked me that question. I didn’t give you the answer that time because I thought I was dealing with a square shooter, but after having spent a couple of thousand dollars and a lot of time begging a lot of influential people and got you out of a lot of trouble. You changed the tune as soon as the real parole was coming up. You began to leave the friendship off. Remember that I have all the letters you have sent me and if you don’t keep your promises, as you have told me for the last 11 years, I am going to make it a little hard for you.

This will be all for now, hoping to hear from you by return mail.

Sincerely yours,

Louis S. Sonney

P.S. Am sending some of the copies of letters I have received from you when you was in need, by imploring the Blessings of God.

NOTE ON BOTTOM OF LETTER

This letter is proof that Sonney will go to any extreme to injure me in the estimation of the Parole Board. If he cannot use me as a freak in his road show, he will try to block my release on parole.

ROY GARDNER – March 7, 1933

To: Warden,

Apparently this fellow is going to try to go over your head and get permission to visit me. If he shows up here with a pass to see me, tell him I am in conference and cannot be disturbed.

I don’t want to see him. He got me “in bad” once before in 1924 by going over Warden Biddle’s head, and I don’t want a repetition of it now.

If you want additional reasons for barring him, consult Warden Zerbst. He made a gun play at Warden Zerbst at the other prison in 192 __.

Respectfully submitted.

By: ROY GARDNER

* * *

March 25, 1933

To: Warden

From: Roy Gardner

Warden if you are going to continue feeding us sausage and hot cakes for breakfast, I am going to decline a parole because I don’t believe they feed like that at Boulder Dam.

I got that same identical breakfast (sausage, hot cakes, syrup, bread, butter and coffee) on a dining car in January 1930 and it cost the U.S. Marshall $1.25.

Keep the good work up Warden. The better class prisoners in here are for you 100 percent.

Sincerely yours,

ROY GARDNER

* * *

Dollie Gardner

February 12, 1934

From: Mrs. Dollie Gardner

Imola, Napa, California

To: Mr. Stanford Bates

Department of Justice

Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir:

I am taking the liberty of writing you concerning my husband Roy Gardner #17060, a prisoner incarcerated at present at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas.

Mr. Bates, I know that I have not much of an argument to put up in his favor as his record, especially on paper, is not a good one. Yet he will soon be gone 14 years, and I am so tired of just waiting with nothing to look forward to. So I take the liberty of writing you concerning Roy’s parole. He is a man 50 years of age, and if he is ever to stage a comeback in private life, it will have to be done in the next few years. Maybe I am over confident in feeling that I can help to make Roy a good useful citizen.

I have raised our daughter, she being a baby when he went away, she is now in her 17th year and a lovely girl. I have lived a good life and I feel that I am a little more deserving than to have Roy returned to me decrepit old man to care for the rest of his days.

Mr. Bates, I realize that you have society to protect, and in face of the prevailing crime wave I ask you to consider paroling Roy and sending him back to us.

I made a visit to Washington, D.C. in Roy’s behalf some years back, and recall the kind courteous treatment that I received at the Department of Justice, so it is with a friendly feeling I address you.

Sincerely,

Dollie Gardner

* * *

March 5, 1934

To: Dollie Gardner

From: Director Stanford Bates

My Dear Ms. Gardner:

I personally received and considered your letter of February 12th. I am sorry that I can give you no definite information as to the possibility of parole in your husband’s case. As you know that must be decided by the Board of Parole, which is established for that purpose.

I can say to you in all sincerity, however, that it is the opinion of all those who have recently been in contact with Roy Gardner that he is a changed man. We wish you to know this and we have assured him from time to time that we recognize and appreciate the efforts, which he has been making in the last few years. He has made a fine a comeback as has any man in our institutions and we are all hopeful that at a time not too far distant in the future, your family may be reunited and you will all be given a fresh start all around.

Very truly yours,

Director

* * *

Tuesday P.M.

To: Warden Johnston

Alcatraz, California

Warden my wife underwent a major operation yesterday, and considering the fact that she is in a weakened condition, her chances of recovery are bad.

It is customary in Federal prisons to permit an inmate to visit close relatives in case of serious illness or death, provided he has funds to pay the expenses of himself and the guard.

Will you permit me to go to Napa as soon as possible in order to be with her when she passes the crisis of her illness?

Respectfully submitted by,

Roy Gardner #110

* * *

To Mr. Simpson

Mr. Simpson I recommend that you got a copy of Benny Leonard’s book “The Art of Self Defense” and read it.

Yours,

RG

P.S. You used to be able to dodge quick smatter? Have you slowed down, or just got old? During the broadcast last night, I heard Lucas say that you was a perfect sucker for a right swing, is that true?

* * *

January 23, 1934

To: Mr. Chandler

Mr. Chandler do you remember some time ago I asked you how you got that tin ear and you wouldn’t tell me?

I just figured it out. You must have been winding up and the guy stepped in and “leaned” on you before you could unwind.

You was pretty lucky the other day. If that fellow hadn’t reached over your shoulder while you was winding up, and tapped that con, the chances are the con would have made a total wreck of both your ears before you could unwind.

Yours in haste,

Gardner

P.S. You was luckier than Mr. Simpson at that. The con unwound him.

* * *

February 16, 1936

To: Ray Gardner #110

Dear Daddy:

Well old bad luck kept me from coming down yesterday. Had the flu and the old Doc wouldn’t let me out. Haven’t seen Jean yet, but I think she will come out to see me this p.m.

It just seems I get everything that comes along. My resistance seems so low, I guess Daddy I have gotten to the top of the hill and on the downward trail – forty you know now.

Daddy at this time I am in the hands of temptation a fine man wishes to make me his wife, as fine a man as I have met since you have been gone these 16 years. He can give me a home and care for me. What do you think of it Daddy? I am just asking you.

I read where George Austin, my good old friend is very sick, had a sudden heart attack. I would be so grieved if he should pass. There is only one G. Austin. There will never be another. He was as white a man as I ever met in the line of a government official. He has just chased one mail bandit too many I think.

Hope Jean and you had a nice visit yesterday. She has rented an apartment and is spreading her wings. I hope I am able to keep her from spreading them too far. I will watch her.

Be good Daddy.

Always,

DOLLIE GARDNER

* * *

February 22, 1936

From: Ray Gardner #110

To: Dollie Gardner

Lo Girlie Dear:

Yours of the 17th received today and I was beginning to think the flu had got you down. Sure sorry to hear George Austin is sick. He is one man I really admired.

I can’t write him so I wish you would drop him a line and tell him I am pulling for him. We saw a picture today “Ruggles of Red Gap” and I laughed my head off. It was a true portrayal of life.

I have been thinking hard about your temptation and I don’t know how to advise you. It is a proposition you will have to decide for yourself because I don’t know the man in question.

I am sure you made a mistake by waiting 16 years for me, however that 16 years is gone and you must look to the future instead of the past. I am going to be honest with you and tell you the truth, and then you will have to use your own judgment.

I still have about three years to go yet, and when I do come out I won’t have a dollar. I don’t know what I am going to do for a living, but I do know that I am not going hungry.

If you wait this other three years for me you may be glad or you may be sorry, it depends on how I find conditions when I come out.

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bushes, and if you can insure your declining years by marrying that fellow, you had better take him because my future is sure uncertain.

Think it over carefully girlie, and then do as you think best.

Lovingly Daddy,

Roy Gardner

* * *

April 16, 1936

From: Dollie Gardner

To: Roy Gardner #110

Dear Daddy:

Received your letter a few days ago, and really Daddy I did not like the little references in it, or shall I say sarcasm. I would not like you to take this matter in a nasty little light.

I am doing this Daddy because I think it is best. I am not well and I am so tired I do not think you even realize. In 16 years, I have never once laid the pack down, nor have I ever had a soul I could put my hand out to. Daddy if I could look forward to see a light for us I could go on, but today I cannot.

Well, Parker is a good man I think Daddy in principal, one of God’s finest. He neither drinks nor smokes, and I would trust my child with him anywhere. He is a Mason and an Odd Fellow. He is not very big but he has certainly been good to Jean and me. I have known him three years.

No Daddy, I do not want you to look at this in any other than a straight clean way, or I might not think of you as I would like to.

I will come to see you always and write as always.

My friend Roy Lockman has advised an annulment as the quickest way without a lot of fuss and publicity. Will let you know. Please Daddy do not get all upset. Will close now with love. Will write in a day or so.

Love,

Dollie

[Handwritten] Note:

Warden: You can prevent this marital wreck if you will just throw the switch.

Roy G.

* * *

April 22nd 1936

To: Ray Gardner #110

From Dollie Gardner

271 San Jose Avenue

San Francisco, California

Daddy Dear:

I’ve gone and done it and I am so miserable. I didn’t think that if I made up my mind it was for the best, that it would hit me so hard. So remember Daddy if you are miserable I am too. I took the annulment way, as it will be over and finished at one time. The newspapers can only yell once, it was better for Jean.

Please Daddy be good and don’t kick over the traces. I will come to see you as soon as it is safe as the newspapers have be hounding me. I am too hysterical and cry babyish now. When I think I can talk calm I will come.

I suppose after I get this I will have to write the Attorney General for a permit. I will write the Warden. Be good Daddy and remember you will always be with me.

With love,

DOLLIE

[Handwritten Note] She filed the annulment suit April 21st. If I could assure her that I would be released any day soon, I am sure she would withdraw the suite and wait for me.

Roy G.

* * *

July 12, 1936

To: Warden Johnston

From Roy Gardner #110

Warden Johnson:

Warden if my former wife asks permission to visit me, please advise her that only relatives are permitted. I prefer not to see her but I would like to see my daughter.

Please do not let my wife know that I have made this request. It would hurt her unnecessarily.

Respectfully,

Roy Gardner

Note:

July 15, 1936

Interviewed – Told him I would act in accordance with his request.

J.J. [James Johnston]

* * *

April 5, 1938

To: Mr. James A. Johnston, Warden

United States Penitentiary

Alcatraz, California

From: James V. Bennett, Director

Department of Justice

Bureau of Prisons

Washington, D.C.

My Dear Warden Johnston:

Thank you for your letter about Roy Gardner. You have got him sized up just right. He is an exhibitionist and likes to get into the newspapers and have his crimes exploited.

But my wildest notions as to what he might do when he leaves the penitentiary never reached the point of what actually seems to be in the wind. He has an offer from a Mr. L.G. Sonney of Los Angeles who proposes to hire Gardner to help him run his studio of wax models of notorious criminals. Gardner is in effect to be an exhibit in the flesh.

I have written to Warden Hudspeth and asked him to try and persuade Gardner not to accept this offer. What effect my advice will have I don’t know but if he insists upon going back to Los Angeles and take a job of that kind he is sure to get into trouble again. Moreover, it won’t do us any good because he is going to be giving out interviews to newspapers and to detective magazines every time he can get $10 for it. I would like to persuade him to come east, but I guess that is out. I shall have a talk with him when I next go to Leavenworth.

If you can pass along any advice as to how the matter might be handled, I certainly would appreciate it.

Yours very truly,

James V. Bennett

The original caption to this 1938 press photo read: When Roy Gardner (left), notorious Pacific Coast bank robber of the early 1920s was released today after 17- years in prison, he was met by the man who captured him, Louis Sonney (right) of San Francisco. Sonney, then an officer, now a film producer, signed Gardner to a 3-year contract.

* * *

June 7, 1938

To: J. J. Bennett

Washington, D.C.

From: Roy Gardner

Dear Sirs:

Upon the advice of Warden Hudspeth, I am submitting for your approval a rough draft of my MMS based on Alcatraz. Also a scenario book on the story. I am sorry I could not have the MMS completely typed, however my typewriter connection blew up and I had to finish the rough draft in longhand.

When rewritten and smoothed out I feel sure the MMS will bring me in some much needed cash. Also you will see that I am not directing criticism toward any Federal official in fact, I intend to dedicate the book to Warden Johnston. If you find anything objectionable in the MMS, please blue-pencil it and it will be deleted. Also I will appreciate any constructive criticism you may offer.

On page 51 of the MMS you will find a list of the notorious characters that I intend to present to the reading public in their true light. A short two or three page biography of each of those fellows will round out the MMS to about 60,000 words, and probably double the sale. If it is not asking too much Mr. Bennett, I will appreciate it if you will arrange for me to be supplied with a picture and the case histories of those men. It would save me a lot of expensive research, which I am not able to bear at the present time. I feel sure Warden Johnston would be willing to furnish it if you would suggest it to him. Also I would be glad to submit the finished MMS to either you or Warden Johnston for censorship before I submit it to the publishers.

In closing I wish to assure you Mr. Bennett that I am going out (June 17th) without any feeling of bitterness toward any Federal official. In fact I consider a number of officials, including yourself, as personal friends and I value that friendship highly.

I realize it is going to be tough sledding for me until I become socially acclimated, and I would like very much to keep in touch with you Mr. Bennett, and to feel that I could call on you for advice if and when I need it.

Warden Hudspeth advised me that you were in touch with Singer Machine Company, regarding employment for me. That will suit me fine.

The cataract on my eye is handicapping me for precision work; however I intend to have the cataract removed as soon as I am financially able.

I am going from here to Los Angeles, and then to San Francisco about July 1st. Please address me in care of Warden Johnston until such time as I secure a permanent address.

Respectfully submitted by,

Roy Gardner

July 14, 1938

* * *

To J.V. Bennett

Director

From: Roy Gardner

Hotel Governor

Turk and & Jones

San Francisco, California

Dear Sir:

In 1931 or ‘32, Mr. Sonney wrote a letter to Warden Hudspeth accusing me of having immoral relations with a Mexican girl in Phoenix, Arizona in 1921. Warden Hudspeth sent the letter on to Mr. Bates and Mr. MacCormick asked me about it in 1932. I would like very much like to get that letter, or a copy of it, Mr. Bennett because I am now being threatened with legal action by Sonney. The letter is on file in your office, and if you will send it to me, I will return it within ten days.

Sincerely yours,

Roy Gardner

* * *

January 17, 1940

To: James A. Johnston

Warden

United States Penitentiary

Alcatraz, California

From: James V. Bennett

Director

My Dear Warden Johnston:

I read in the newspapers with some dismay of the suicide of Roy Gardner. He chose the same spectacular manner of taking himself out of the world, as he had followed all his life.

I would like to see the text of the final note he left. If you could get a copy of it for me, I would very much appreciate it.

Sincerely yours,

James V. Bennett

* * *

NOTE LEFT ON THE DOOR FOR THE MAID ON HOTEL GOVERNOR STATIONARY: DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR. POISON GAS. CALL POLICE.

To Whom it May Concern:

Please deliver my body to Halstead and Company, 1123 Sutter St., San Francisco. They know what to do. Call R. P. Nelson, and tell him there is a letter of instructions here. He is my brother-in-law, and he will make the necessary arrangements with Halstead and Company.

TO THE NEWSPAPERS:

Please, this is the last request for me; do not mention my daughter’s name in connection with this. Her in-laws do not know she is my daughter, and it would probably wreck her happiness if they found out...

TO THE NEWSPAPER REPORTERS:

Please let me down as light as possible boys. I have played ball all the way, and now you should pitch me a slow one and let me hit it. I’m checking out simply because I’m old and tired, and don’t care to continue the struggle.

There are no love affairs or disappointments of any kind connected with this in any way, just tired that’s all ... I hold no malice toward any human being, and I hope those whom I have wronged will forgive me for it.

If I had realized what the future held for me, I would have checked out in 1920 and saved my loved ones the disgrace and shame that they have had to endure these many years. Also I would have dodged plenty of grief that I endured unnecessarily.

All men who have to serve more than five years in prison are doomed, but they don’t realize it. They kid themselves into believing that they can come back, but they can’t. There is a barrier between the ex-convict and society that cannot be leveled.

Every man on Alcatraz today would be better off if they would jump into the bay and start swimming to China. If you think I’m wrong, just watch Mooney or Beesmeyer and see how they wind up.

I did not decide to check out on the spur of the moment. In fact I bought the cyanide two months ago for this very purpose. I got it at a drug store on the north side of Market Street near Kearney. I don’t remember what name I signed, but my address was given as 1404 Post Street.

Goodbye and good luck boys, and please grant my last request. Thanks.

Sincerely yours,

Roy Gardner

Edward Wutke, 47-AZ

The S.S. Yale

Another alleged casualty of the silence system was 36-year-old inmate Edward Wutke. Prior to his imprisonment at Alcatraz, Wutke was an able seaman employed on the steamship Yale. When a friendly drunken scuffle with a close friend turned into a serious fight, Wutke drew a small pocketknife and stabbed his friend in the groin area, fatally severing his femoral artery. The wounded man would bleed to death before the ship made it into port at San Diego. Wutke became panic-stricken upon realizing the gravity of his act and had to be shackled to a fixed object. Following his conviction for murder on the high seas, Wutke became withdrawn, and was sent to Alcatraz because of what officials described as a “desperate disposition.”

On December 27, 1934 Wutke refused to report to his work assignment, and was sent to the lower solitary unit below Block A, better known as the “dungeon.” He would remain in the damp, dark dungeon for eight days. Wutke made his first suicide attempt in January 1936. He complained that he was unable to do his time “under the present conditions,” and indicated that the silence and harsh rules had finally become unbearable. Using a small contraband blade, he sliced a prominent vein near his elbow, and bled profusely before a guard was able to intervene. The resident physician sutured the inmate’s wound and then admitted him to the hospital for an examination by the prison psychiatrist. Wutke’s unsuccessful suicide attempt would only intensify his hatred of the Alcatraz regimen. He remained incorrigible, and found himself locked in solitary on at least three later occasions.

Deputy Warden E.J. Miller and Dr. Beacher were called to Wutke’s cell on November 13, 1937, after the prisoner was found dead by one of the officers. Following his suicide, numerous stories were leaked to the press alleging harsh confinement practices at Alcatraz. Countless inmates believed that the unrelenting torture of strict confinement had contributed to several inmates “going crazy.”

Edward Wutke was buried on November 17, 1937, at the Cypress Lawn Cemetery in Colma, California. Only a small marker with the plot number #66 engraved marks his spot. Fellow inmates had felt that Wutke’s suicide was a serious injustice and they viewed him as somebody who “was not prison material.” He was described as being too easy going and found death more favorable than spending the majority of his life behind bars on Alcatraz. Though no letters directly from Wutke have been identified, a singular letter in his file from a family member represents a tragic finale to a life gone cold at Alcatraz.

Warden of U.S. Pen.

Alcatraz

California

Dear Sir,

Having heard that Edward Wutke is a prisoner at Alcatraz his parents would like to know on what charge he has been sentenced. The file number is 12020-26644.

Yours truly,

Henry Wutke

1843 Trumbull St.

Bay City

Michigan

[Handwritten Note] Interviewed Wutke #47 says writer is his brother (half brother). That he has not written to him as he did not want to on account of his imprisonment but inasmuch as his relatives appear interested he will write –

JAJ 10/7/36

* * *

Henry Wutke

1843 Trumbull St.

Bay City, Mich.

Dear brother Edward,

We received your letter and were very sorry to hear that you are in prison. We know that you always try to do right and avoid trouble so we believe it could not have been your fault.

The first news we had of your whereabouts was when a man from the Dept. of Labor came down from Flint, Mich. and inquired if you where an alien. Mother and Dad gave him all the information they could and he seemed satisfied and went away.

We are sending you a little money 5$ in Money Order and if there is anything we can do for you we would be glad to help.

I know you would like to hear some news of the family so here goes.

We are all well and Dad and I are working every day. Mary is married to Cecil MacDonald who teaches at the local high school. Julia is living in Flint and has seven children 6 girls and one boy. One of her girls married about 2 months ago.

I forgot to say that Mary has a 4 month old baby boy it’s named James Henry. That is all can think to write at this time. Please write soon.

Your brother and family

Henry

Robert Stroud, 594-AZ

“The Birdman of Alcatraz”

“Regardless of what we think of Hitler, and I had his number, completely, back in the 20’s, before he gained power even in Germany, he is the best possible illustration of the effectiveness of a fixed purpose. For, regardless of his personal qualities, he has a very effective single mindedness. And if I have one good quality, it is the same kind of single mindedness.”

-Robert Stroud, March 1942

Robert Franklin Stroud, the infamous “Birdman of Alcatraz”, emerged as an iconic figure in America’s 20th century history. He was seen by many as a martyr of America’s penal system, and became a self-educated and self-proclaimed ornithologist while serving over 54 years in prison. Forty-two of those years were spent in solitary confinement. Stroud’s image and the circumstances of his murder convictions were softened by a gentle portrayal in a bestselling biography written by Thomas Gaddis, later made into a major Hollywood motion picture.

Biographer Thomas Gaddis on the set of Birdman of Alcatraz with Hollywood actor Burt Lancaster in November 1960. Lancaster’s softened portrayal inspired thousands worldwide to lobby for the release of convicted murderer Robert Stroud. While their efforts proved unsuccessful, the actor’s depiction won the public’s sympathy and cast Stroud into history as a martyr of the American penal system. Gaddis’s biography became a literary classic, and also helped shape the public image of conditions at Alcatraz, even decades after its closure.

Burt Lancaster received an Academy Award® nomination for his portrayal of Robert Stroud, the infamous Birdman of Alcatraz. Lancaster had never met Stroud before or during film production, but developed an idealistic and humane characterization of his subject. Many of the officers who guarded Stroud depicted him as a genius whose personality was “composed, manipulative, and calculated with vicious, predatory, and murderous ideals.”

Alcatraz Captain of the Guards Philip Bergen.

Philip Bergen visited Stroud’s prison cell at USP Leavenworth (depicted here in the motion picture Birdman of Alcatraz) prior to his transfer to the Rock. He stated that his two adjoining cells looked very similar to those replicated in the classic motion picture. Stroud often had his birds perform circus-style tricks and his cell was a favored stop for visitors touring USP Leavenworth. Bergen indicated that there were “absolutely no accurate parallels” between Stroud and the character depicted by Burt Lancaster.

Despite his designation as the Birdman of Alcatraz, Stroud (as depicted here in the Hollywood motion picture Birdman of Alcatraz) was never permitted to have any birds while imprisoned on the Rock. However, he had been allowed to complete one of his avian books, and for a limited period continued public correspondence relating to bird care. Philip Bergen, Captain of the Guards, indicated that once Edwin Swope was appointed as the new Alcatraz warden in 1948, he stripped Stroud of all remaining privileges that were not in compliance with the standard set of rules and regulations. Swope banned all outside correspondence and fully isolated Stroud from all avian forums and communities.

Stroud was never permitted to have birds at Alcatraz, and he left behind a thriving breeding business at USP Leavenworth up until his transfer in 1942. In 1909, Stroud was convicted of the murder of a 33-year old bartender who worked at the Montana Saloon, one of Stroud’s frequent haunts in Juneau, Alaska. Stroud had come to Alaska in 1907 and was allegedly known by many as the “Peanut Kid” for selling peanuts on the streets and working odd jobs in the red light district of the now-abandoned small town of Katella. It was here that he had met Cordova prostitute and cabaret dancer Kitty O’Brien. One article derived from early Alaska oral histories described O’Brien as a “faded, wrinkled, blonde who was a wild-living drug addict, alcoholic and whore.” The Daily Record in January 1909 stated, “Her face is badly marred with sores at the present.” She was known by locals for robbing drunks and disorderly conduct, but she had somehow developed a close bond with Stroud. The Daily Record also stated, “They were both degenerates and criminally inclined.”

Although the details of the incident remain vague and unclear, Stroud allegedly murdered the bartender using a .38 Colt revolver for failing to pay O’Brien (who he was pimping) for sex. After the murder, Stroud took the man’s wallet to ensure that he and the prostitute would receive compensation for her services. In 1911, Stroud was convicted of manslaughter and sent to serve out his sentence at USP McNeil Island in Washington State. During his trial, the Daily Record reported that Stroud “appeared to glory in the notoriety that he obtained by the killing.”

His inmate case file indicates that he was a violent and difficult prisoner to manage. While serving his sentence at USP McNeil Island, he viciously attacked another inmate. This resulted in his transfer to USP Leavenworth. In 1916, he murdered a Leavenworth guard, was convicted of first degree murder, and received a death sentence. His mother pled for his life, and in 1920, President Woodrow Wilson commuted the death sentence to life imprisonment.

The original telegram notifying the warden that Stroud’s execution was commuted.

An article pleading for an appeal for justice on behalf of Stroud, written by Della Jones.

It was Stroud’s violent behavior that earned him time in segregation. Over the course of Stroud’s thirty years of imprisonment at USP Leavenworth, he developed a keen interest in canaries, after finding an injured bird in the recreation yard. Stroud was initially allowed to breed birds and maintain a lab inside two adjoining segregation cells, since it was felt that this activity would provide for productive use of his time. As a result of this privilege, Stroud was able to author two books on canaries and their diseases, having raised nearly 300 birds in his cells, carefully studying their habits and physiology, and he even developed and marketed remedies for various bird ailments. Although it is widely debated whether the remedies he developed were effective, Stroud was able to make scientific observations that would later benefit research on the canary species. However, after several years of Stroud’s informal research, prison officials discovered that some of the equipment he had requested was actually being used to construct a still to make an alcoholic brew.

Stroud was transferred to Alcatraz in 1942, where he spent the next 17 years (6 years in segregation in Block D and 11 years in the prison hospital).

Robert Stroud, circa 1909, USP McNeil Island.

Stroud at USP Leavenworth, circa 1912.

Robert Stroud, at USP Alcatraz in December 1942. Stroud spent the entire duration of his imprisonment on Alcatraz in isolation. He was never permitted to integrate into the general population.

Robert Stroud, official Alcatraz photo taken on October 29, 1951.

Stroud was confined in Block D from 1942 to 1948, residing in D-4 along the flats and cell-41, the second to last cell on right of the upper tier. Stroud remained in this location during the Battle of Alcatraz in 1946, surviving heavy gun and mortar fire while barricaded behind wet mattresses for cover.

Robert Stroud seen reading a book in his Alcatraz hospital ward cell. Stroud would remain isolated in this cell from 1948 until 1959. Initially Stroud was forced to use a bedpan to relieve himself until a toilet was installed in July 1956. Stroud spent 11 years locked down in this cell with only one weekly visit to the recreation yard, usually by himself. He would spend a total of 17 years on Alcatraz, with all of his time in a segregated status.

A contemporary photo of Stroud’s cell. It remains reminiscent of the period when he was secluded here. This area of the prison remains isolated with only limited public access to the hospital ward.

In 1959, he was transferred to the US Medical Center for Federal Prisoners, Springfield, Missouri. On November 21, 1963, Stroud was found dead (from natural causes) by convicted spy, close friend, and former Alcatraz inmate Morton Sobell. Stroud had never been allowed to read the biography of his life story, and had never been permitted to see the movie in which Burt Lancaster portrayed him as a mild mannered and humane individual. Birdman of Alcatraz later earned Lancaster an Academy Award nomination for best actor. During the televised broadcast of the ceremonies in April 1963, Stroud was able to view a short movie clip of Lancaster’s portrayal as an aging Stroud. In one account, it was stated that when Lancaster lost the Oscar to Gregory Peck for his role in To Kill a Mockingbird, Stroud remained stoic and simply got up and headed off to bed. At the time of his death, he had served the longest term in solitary confinement than any other federal inmate in American history.

This collection is primarily comprised of correspondence written during Stroud’s incarceration while segregated at USP Leavenworth.

* * *

JANUARY 30TH

1915

Mr. Fred G. Zerbst,

Deputy Warden U. S. P.

Sir:-

Stroud Reg. No. 8154, is afflicted with chronic nephritis (Bright’s Disease) of a mild type, but sufficiently severe to necessitate his remaining in the hospital most of the winter months and during periods of inclement weather.

On account of the man’s disposition to be meddlesome and his inability to comply with the hospital rules in small matters, his presence is demoralizing, and I suggest that you give him quarters in the isolation building, at least temporarily, where he will be equally well housed and can be served his milk and medicine without detriment to his physical condition.

Respectfully,

A.F.W.

Physician.

* * *

ADDRESS REPLY TO

“THE ATTORNEY GENERAL”

AND REFER TO INITIALS AND NUMBER

DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE,

WASHINGTON, D.C.

T.H.D.

July 8, 1916.

Mr. Thomas W. Morgan

Warden, United States Penitentiary,

Leavenworth, Kansas.

Sir:

For your information there is enclosed herewith a copy of a letter this day addressed to the United States Marshal at Topeka, Kansas, relative to the execution of prisoner Robert Stroud.

The Department thinks that a suitable place can be found for the execution within the prison enclosure and entirely out of sight of the prisoners. If the execution is fixed to take place early in the morning, say between midnight and 6 a.m., it would not disturb the daily routine of the institution and it would save locking up the prisoners, which would have to be done if the execution took place during the day.

Respectfully,

For the Attorney General,

Assistant Attorney General.

* * *

December 12, 1928

The Honorable E Lewis

U.S. Circuit Court

St. Louis, MO

Hon. Sir:

This is an appeal to you for a recommendation of executive clemency written by Robert F. Stroud whom it was your disagreeable duty once to sentence to death.

This appeal is not predicated upon your sentence of any kind, there is no desire to play upon your sympathies so all facts that would tend in that direction will be passed over lightly; though of necessity some must be touched upon, there are other facts that you will no doubt find more interesting; those will be treated in some detail.

When I found myself facing a sentence of life in solitary confinement, upon the commutation of my death sentence in 1920, I was somewhat downcast. To sneer at death is easy, but it is not easy to sneer at four blank walls of a cell, or at the face of men over you who are bitter because they have failed to bring about your destruction. It was under such circumstances that I faced the most difficult problem of such circumstances that I faced the most difficult problem of my life, the re-organization of my whole system of life and thought. I had contended at my trial that my act was justified I did not, or have I now, abandoned that contention, but I had from the very first realized that just or unjust it had been foolish and expensive. A lot of innocent persons have been made to suffer – no one had benefited. I left deeply upon this subject, for I believe that every man is fully responsible for the results of every act. He may not be able to discharge that responsibility, but he is morally obliged to make an effort to do so.

In this case the possibilities of doing anything in that direction looked absolutely hopeless. There was just one point which I was determined, and that was to incur no new obligations, and to do this even involved finding a way to earn money, for I had developed an intestinal trouble which made fruit and green food a necessity in my diet. This could be bought but I had no taste for them if the funds were to be supplied by my mother, who had reduced herself to the status of a factory hand to save money to save my unworthy life. By all these laws of right and justice it was my duty to try to make it the other way around. It was with these thoughts that I searched my environments for a means of converting my modest ability into an income. I don’t cite these reflections because they are to my credit; they are not. It is to my discredit that they did not put in an appearance much earlier in my life, before such mess had been made of things. They are only mentioned because they furnished the motivating impulse for my actions that followed.

My first efforts were of an artist nature. From a fellow prisoner I got a box of water color paint and a few pieces of bristle board. From these fancy greeting cards which were sent out to friends who disposed of them for me. These sales were disguised as gifts for at this time no prisoner was permitted to sell any object of his creation (It took some years of painstaking effort to change this rule). With the funds thus obtained better tools and materials were acquired just as fast the permission to have them could be obtained. This was not always easy for two factors had to be constantly considered. First; the animosity created by my four years battle for life had to be overcome, and second; it was necessary to avoid exciting the envy of jealousy of more indolent prisoners. You can be sure that I had to walk softly. The development of perfect self control was an absolute necessity.

Despite discouragement I made progress. With no great ability, I learned to draw and color, I progressed from water colors to oil and I managed to create salable pictures in both. My process of doing so was extremely laborious, however with what was lacking in the native skill had to be made up by patient work. This tolled upon the eyes and after six years of work had to be given up. It was given up without deep regret. It had served its purpose by financing my other effort.

When still under a sentence of death a book on canaries came into my hand. It was read with care. The possibilities of these delightful little creatures as a means of revenue greatly appealed to me. I could picture the long walls of my cell covered with the cages full of birds with many sales at good profit. This dream was confided to but few and those that did not it pronounced it a plan of madness. “How are you, whom they won’t even let have a pen point, going to get permission for all these things, how could you sell the birds if you had them?” I confess I did not know... I was logically hopeless, but refused to give up.

One of my first acts after commutation was to catch a pair if young sparrows; they were nesting and had fallen into the little court where at this time I was permitted thirty minutes per day for exercise. They were taken to my cell and there fed by hand upon bits of my own food as they grew up they became very friendly and were taught a number of tricks. They were well educated before anyone’s attention was called to the fact that I had them; they were then shown to the deputy warden and made to do their tricks. He being a great pet lover was very much interested in them. During the discussion the idea was put over that they could not thrive for long without bird seed. The result was that I was granted permission to but bird seed – something I could not have a chance to get had I been chummy enough to ask for it. That was the first step.

It took one year to get my first canary, another year to get my first cage which was made from a packing box with the aid of a razor blade and a nail for tools. These like the sparrows were acquired as opportunity presented or could be created, for I had to step carefully, believe me. This first permission I asked regarding the canaries was when I had the birds of my own breeding sent out.

My first birds were common chopper canaries. The money derived from these was used to stock fancy rollers. The first cage grew to a row, to two rows, until my whole cell was covered with cages until much of my dream had come true. Until I had created a profitable bird business from the four blank walls of my solitary cell.

I now stocked from forty to eighty high class rollers, have a new strain of my own creation well on the road to perfection and will raise and sell from three hundred to five hundred dollars worth per year. And as I live with birds I study they – probably more closely than any free person with a multitude of interests could do. This study has been very interesting and the happiest hours of my life have been spent right here with my birds. Their exacting needs, the fact that I am responsible for their health and happiness has much to do with the regulating of my own habits. Their value represents a property right; the building up of that value and its enjoyments has given me a broader view of property right than I ever had before. If a dealer ships me unfit seed or sick birds I demand correction. If it is not forthcoming I return the goods at his expense or send a wire that will eat up any profit that he had made by his dishonesty or carelessness. I know how I feel in such cases, and knowing that I don’t want people to feel so towards me is the best incentive in the world for avoiding such practice. The result is that I have not a single dissatisfied customer. But while the effort of this business upon my character and outlook has been great, these have been even greater results in other directions.

The condition under which I keep my birds, are unique and to meet the needs of the birds decrease labor, and make the most of my available room. I have designed each item of my equipment along lines intended to make it give me the greatest service, and the greatest return on my investment and labor. This has led to a number of original features; some of which are undoubtedly patentable and of commercial value. These have been passed on for the benefit of other breeders.

I have carried on extensive experiments in foods which have added new knowledge. Some of this knowledge has been on to the fancy: some of it of greater commercial value has been retained. One discovery relating to the relation of certain minerals to the reproduction is now being commercialized by the Miracus Bird Food Company of Clifton Hill, MO., a concentration organized for that purpose; a creation of my imagination.

The facts merely show that I have been competent along the line to which my efforts have been devoted. They are not greatly to my credit or otherwise. Another so situated might do the same thing, but this competency is exactly of that kind that leads to the success in any field, under any circumstances. It is for that reason and also because it forms a background of what is to follow that I have gone into such details. I must now digress for a moment.

There is a disease which is known by such various names as septic fever, cholera, canary nervosas, canary typhoid, septicemia, shipping fever and others. This disease is due to the action of two germs, one of which attacks the internal organs (those of digestion), and one of which attacks the lungs, throat, mouth, head and other parts of the body. This disease is highly contagious, and heretofore was practically always fatal. The germs have a period of from fourteen to twenty-one days of incubation. The birds infected can spread the disease from an entire bird room before they can be detected. Thus it causes great loss; frequently running into thousands of dollars and wiping out entire flocks.

The desire is an interrupted fever on the one hand and is closely related to Diphtheria and is the same as in a human being. Croup in poultry is not identical with them; it is also more or less closely related to Erysipelas. Scarlet Fever and other diseases of this nature and has many curious points of resemblance to hoof and mouth disease among cattle. And it may here be noted that it originated in the same part of central Europe as did human Diphtheria (I wonder if the hoof and mouth disease also came from that locality, as much of our cattle did).

On the other hand microscopic examination of the exterior shows the presence of large numbers of the germs of avian cholera of a very malignant variety. This aspect of infection shows a close relationship to such infection as cholera in both hogs and human beings as well to other contagious of the intestinal tract.

This disease was introduced into my flock last spring with some imported birds that I had bought. It ran through my stock like wild fire. It took fifty birds and cost me at least five hundred dollars, but it was subjected to much closer study from a sympathetic angle than ever before published. Many new facts were discovered concerning its nature and diagnosis. The existence of germ carriers had long been suspected. This was definitely established and described; but still my birds were being lost at the rate of three per day. Fully expecting to lose my entire stock, I was determined to get all knowledge possible from the experience. With this end in view, I undertook a series of experiments and based upon the theory that most doctors would call absurd. That was that there must be some substance that would kill the germs inside the birds but that would not harm the birds. I began adding germicide to their food. Frankly this was done without hope. I tried things that no sane person would try, and observed results. Driven by desperation, I found what I sought; a non-poisonous germicide, with a germ killing power comparing favorably with carbolic acid and potassium permanganate. I cured birds at the point of death in a matter of a few hours. I established the fact that this substance kills all of the germs in the digestive tract at the first administration and that it greatly reduced the number in the blood stream. Eruptive processes on the various parts of the body healed without local treatment, though as a matter of fact they healed quicker when local treatment was given.

This is important from the bird keeper’s point of view. It is easily understood, but it is not at all, the substance used is not a selective germicide like salvarsan, but a general germicide. It kills all microorganisms both avian and mammalian. It is not poisonous to mammals as to birds. These facts have been placed before a competent bacteriologist and I am informed that such properties had not been hitherto known.

The formula has been prepared and put on the market for the use of bird breeders and dealers; as soon as the necessary experiments can be made it will be put on the market for the poultry breeder, in forms adopted for the treatment of Roup and White Diarrhea; but this does not exhaust the possibilities of the discovery. There is no one of the diseases mentioned above but what could undoubtedly be more effectively treated with this substance than is now the case if necessary techniques were worked out. That, however, is beyond my resources and the limitation of my environment. The only tests I have been able to make have been with common coal. In this case a single treatment proved effective. There are many germicides that can be applied to the mucus membranes which will affect the same results. There are not many that can be used internally.

Now, Sir, you have heard many appeals for clemency and in each you made your question at issue as always been “What is the probability that the party in question of himself, a useful citizen if restored to society?” That question does not exist in this case. I have developed in limited environment to the full extent of its possibilities. Isn’t it logical to suppose that now at an age when all men are set in these habits that I would continue as I have for the last nine years? There are persons, some of them high in the present administration, in D.C. and who will be higher in the next administration, who think that the answer to that question should be yes. It is they who are sponsoring this move. Whether it will prove successful or not, I do not know. I do know that it is far from being the forlorn hope that some of my other efforts have seen, only to work out successful. Be that as it may:

It has been argued that you would prove the greatest obstacle to success. Some have been so convinced of this that they have argued that it would be a foolish waste of effort to address any appeal to you whatever, that the logical thing to do was to set you down for an adverse report and try to offset same elsewhere.

I have not been able to subscribe to that view: despite the fact that our only contract was under circumstances which could hardly be to advantage of either of us in the eyes of the other. I have always felt that you were a broad open minded man bent on discharging your duties with as high a degree of justice and fairness as is humanly possible. I cannot believe that you would prejudice any man or fail to alter an opinion of the past if facts presented convinced you that justice demanded it. It is this belief that has given me tetemerity to address this appeal to you.

I have above mentioned the success of my undertaking. I have successful to a large extent, but I have failed also. The habits of my environment have been reached. I have established myself an earning power but the extent of that earning power is limited by the room at my disposal to a figure that prevents me from discharging any but the minor of my obligations in life. My mother who is now crowding the three score and ten mark still has to earn her living as a factory hand. If the duties I owe her are not discharged, soon it will be too late. My food business and that of my fever treatment may earn money enough, but it is doubtful if they can ever earn what they should while deprived of my personal management.

This I would be able to discharge these obligations if free is beyond doubt, for I have already been pledged sufficient financial backing to establish a bird plant for 10,000 capacity plant- and a few people realize to profits to be made in this business by large scale production. It cost about $2.60 to raise a male bird in a cage and he is worth about ten dollars. It cost about 60 cents to raise him aviary and he is worth five dollars.

Should you desire confirmation of any statement made herein I shall be more than glad to furnish it.

In conclusion I wish to state that no attempt to obtain an unconditional release is contemplated. All I want all I ask is a chance to continue to develop myself along the lines indicated above. There is no reject, so long as the opportunity sought is provided. And I may add that in this respect the officials here have reasonable possible, but the two are limited with the responsibility for the management of over three thousand prisoners resting upon their shoulders. They have done well to permit me to go as far as I have. Something I shall always deeply appreciate.

Confident that you will give the above your careful consideration and act in such a manner as you sincerely believe to be in the best intent of all of the society you are sworn to serve;

I am with every element of respect

Yours,

Robert Stroud /s/

* * *

Leavenworth, Kansas Aug. 13th 1918

Dear Bessie,

I received both of your letters, and I must hand you some compliments. “The bird of paradise” made a hit and I will have to plead guilty, and promise to pull no more “tail feathers.”

I have reason to know that the Dr’s. view of that clipping is erroneous. Yes Mrs. T. sure made some “bonehead” plays, and when she appointed herself my spiritual advisor I was not present. I guess you know that I am egotist enough to consider myself well off to take care of my own spiritual well being. I appreciate your attitude on prayer more than anything I have read in many a day. To me, to wail to my creator over what is not his fault would be disgusting and lower me in my own self esteem and if you think I would trade your wholesome comradeship for a bunch of that “sob-Sister religion” you just try me and see how quick I will jump on your neck. No if a man has not got the nerve to stand on his feet he deserves to go down. My case was fought this last time on that theory by my instructions and I have the satisfaction to know that my defense made a better impression this time than ever before.

Our views of death are much the same, only I want it to be night, outdoors and in the snow, and if I could pick the method it would be from loss of blood or freezing. I want to be alone and on my back so I can see the stars. That is all due to my esthetic taste. I saw a man in that position once and the cruelest act that I ever witnessed was some would be friends taking him to a Doctor.

The only answer I can give to your question of “reward” is, that the same thing makes them do that, as makes them think of a nice friendly pick in a corner when they sing of “the streets of gold.” In fact I think the golden streets were put there to suggest the pick.

Your prediction was correct. I spent a most enjoyable afternoon over those criticisms and had many a good laugh – To think that I considered your first choice as being to rotten to even pick to pieces. I’m very glad you sent them for they showed me how poor some of my expressions look after they get cold. I will make a bet though and that is that either the house on Chester Street or the little maverick comes out first.

I hope that you don’t find your studies disappointing. So much of that correspondence stuff is useless on the faculty of self teaching and then they really don’t need it only to keep the honest with themselves. That gives them always a good check on what they are doing.

I sympathize with the cucumbers and don’t blame them for bucking against such a combination as heat, bugs, and worst of all “bug juices.” It would discourage most any self respecting plant. Better luck next time though.

When I got your letter telling of your lovely swim it was 112º in the shade outside and believe me Bessie, there isn’t as much air in a cell as there is outside. I have swam in the rain and know just how nice it can be. It was some satisfaction to know you thought of me, for you couldn’t have thought of me in connection with anything I would have enjoyed more.

I don’t blame you for not have heart enough to exercise this weather – it takes all the nerve I have to stay with it. I take it as soon as I wake up. That be yes little

Well Bessie there is no news as yet about the care. I am getting on as well as can be expected. It is too hot to study much, but I have been spending a little time writing Guitar accompaniments for some of the music I have. Another fellow down here has a Guitar and we play them together (or try to). Most of the time we are really a long ways apart, but even at that it helps some.

Say let me know how Johnson comes out as I haven’t been able to see anything of his case in the paper. Mrs. Leasures letter is amusing. I received dozens like it the first time I was sentenced. One woman wrote me twice and insisted I tell her anything that would add to my comfort. She understood anything. I told her; Bull Durham and brown papers – she didn’t answer my letter. I would have liked to have seen her horrified look as she read it.

You need not mind about “Patsy” for I am getting the proper news. I have been greatly interested in “Fill,” and her constant qualification that he is “pretty good for a boy.” Her egotism is delightful and she always seems to justify it.

So long Bessie,

As ever Robert.

* * *

4-18-20

Warden Anderson

Esteemed Sir:

Perhaps you will think strange that I did not write to U S P before in order to save a life but I wrote to the Dept which was the proper thing I believe.

I was the direct cause of Stroud killing Turner although innocent of any part in the actual crime.

The whole thing started in the barber shop the day before the killing. Turner told me to get in a “pig scraper’s” chair and, as I held an important clerical position I defied him and waited for my own barber.

Turner then angry, afraid to put me in for fear of my superior took his anger out on Stroud who sat near waiting and silent. There was very little said and Turner did all the talking, (abusive it was). It was what he was afraid to say to me but meant for me to hear to show his fearlessness.

I’m sorry, I never harmed a person in my life, but if you will ask Stroud about this he will tell you it is the truth. I started the whole thing and I cannot bear to have that poor devil suffer so much on account of my refusal to obey Turner.

Very Sincerely L W K

The Leavenworth dining hall where Stroud fatally stabbed Officer Turner.

* * *

March 13, 1920.

Mr. A. V. Anderson,

Warden,

Sir:

Since you have placed a death watch upon me, I have been deprived of pen and ink for writing; I have spoken to Mr. Fletcher about it and it appears that the only valid objection he makes, is that you have ordered that I be so deprived. And at Mr. Fletcher’s suggestion I am writing you this note – he has promised to speak to you again about the matter.

Now, Sir, it seems that your only object in depriving me of this privilege is a fear that I contemplate self-destruction, and a desire to be on the safe side in case anything of that nature should happen. And I will be frank enough to say that I don’t relish the idea of being the principle actor in the show contemplated but let that be as it may. Your fear in regard to the pens is groundless. For I will give you my word – and keep it – that, should anything of that kind come off, I will not take advantage of this privilege to bring it about.

On the other hand: I have a great deal of writing to do, that I would like to get finished, and, perchance, only a short time to do it in. Naturally I would like to make my work as neat as possible. Therefore, I beg that you reconsider this matter; and as time is short, let me know your decision at your earliest convenience.

Respectfully,

Robert F. Stroud

3-20-20

[Handwritten Note] Under the existing circumstances and on accounting certain things found in your possession I cannot see my way clear to grant you this request.

Warden

* * *

Leavenworth, Kansas Sept. 14, 1928

Warden Thomas B. White

Mr. T. B. White

Warden

Sir:

I am sorry that I was not in my cell the other day when you made your inspection. You were quoted to me as saying: “Tell Stroud that if I ever find his bed again as it is now I shall take away his birds. I wanted to speak of it when Mrs. Willebrandt was here but did not.” Is that a correct quotation, Warden? If it is, I beg you to peruse the following carefully,

The day of Mrs. Willebrandt’s visit I was expecting her and had that morning straightened up my whole cell. I was glad when you came in for I surely thought that my efforts to have the place looking neat would please you. I wanted to do that; I still want to do it if possible, but if it is impossible that is another question.

As to the condition the other morning, I will admit that it looked littered. There was a good reason for that. I had thrown my stool and some papers on the bed as I swept the floor. I had not had time to finish the straightening up before going to the yard. But the place was clean and so far as I could see, practically nothing wrong with it. I have tried hard to keep this cell clean and in a condition that would meet with your approval; I have even went so far as to wash my blankets myself so that the bed would always be looking clean and actually be clean. I deeply regret the fact, if I have fail, but, frankly, I don’t know what I can do about it.

There are some men who have the gift of speech. They can talk anytime, anywhere; there are others who could not make a public speech if their life depended upon it. You have no doubt noticed this fact many times in your life. I doubt if you would consider it either wise or just to force a career in public speaking on one not so gifted. In like manner there are men naturally neat in both habits and dress. The least disorder distressed them; but there are others who are not naturally neat and who are sorely distressed by extremes in that direction. I belong to the latter class. My idiosyncrasies in this respect are as much a part of my natural makeup as the colors of my hair and eyes, and just as much subject to alteration by act of will as the colors are. Were I forced to live in an environment of military spick-and-span-ness I know that I would go made in a very short time—I simply could not adapt myself to this. I have adapted myself to conditions that most people would fine even more distressful which would balance things up to some extent.

As to my birds, if you have any intention of using them as a sword of armor, I will be pleased to know it now. I certainly have no desire to keep them under those circumstances. They have given me much pleasure. They have meant hope, ambition, decency and self respect. They have provided an avenue through which I could exercise my best faculties and bring out my best qualities, and I believe that I have a just right to be proud of what I have done with them.

I have not made much of a financial success but I have added to human knowledge. I have learned the cause and cure for congenital baldness in line bred birds and the principle cause of unhatchable eggs, and I’ve discovered a specific for septic fever, a disease that has baffled bird keepers for two hundred years and which the German government has spent large sums trying to control. This is important for there are good reasons for believing that the same treatment would wipe out roop and white diarrhea in poultry.

You once said that you considered your task here as one of turning out better men. Do you think that the birds have helped make me better and more useful, or otherwise?

When Manuel figured that conditions and circumstances made it impossible for him to continue to keep his birds, I thought him too easily discouraged; but right now I am pretty well disgusted myself. You have been extremely kind in this matter and it has only been your innumerable favors that have enabled me to keep going at all—this and my faith in your fairness and open mindedness, which has given me confidence to surmount difficulties that would have otherwise made the conditions hopeless. For all this I am and shall always be deeply grateful. Conditions and circumstances now, however, continue to shape up in such a manner as to make further effort seem useless.

To illustrate: You were very kind to permit me special letters for business purposes. I appreciate this; but just when I have a couple of good sales lined up ready to close someone take a notion to tie a rock to me by returning the incoming letters to the senders, and me knowing nothing about it, of course, can make no protest. Result is that instead of my books showing a nice balance, I am compelled to borrow money for running expenses.

My merchandise order this week was returned to me because someone in the chief clerk’s office made a mistake in my account. When it was returned I noticed that someone had scratched the fresh eggs. I sent a note to the chief clerk about my account and sent my order to you, but I haven’t received it. I am sending you another with this, but even though I cannot get it before Tuesday, and I already owe the man in the guards mess five eggs.

These are little things; they are disheartening, though. The one about the letters is not so little either. I just this moment received a letter from a man stating that an order for $143.00 worth of birds with check for that amount enclosed in a registered letter was returned to him unopened with a statement that I am in prison and not permitted to receive it. And he still wants the birds. This with others losses that I have been able to trace — God know how many I have no knowledge of — of a similar nature amounts easily to $300.00 or more.

Can you now understand why I don’t feel like accepting any sword of Damocles status for the birds. If I can keep them with just half a reasonable show to care for and handle them, I will be deeply grateful, but if I cannot do so, it is sure the threat of taking them from me will have little weight. It is no loss to lose something that has already been destroyed.

I fully realize that you are only human, and like myself, have limitations. I try to keep this in mind, for I firmly believe that you sincerely want to be fair, and I know that the responsibilities of you position often force you to decisions the full affect of which it is impossible to forecast. I have written you thus frankly, though, so that you could see my point of view with equal clearness.

Always Gratefully Yours,

Robert F. Stroud

114B1

Isolation.

P.S. Please let me know about the birds. If they are in away an objection then I shall dispose of them at the earliest opportunity, though, at best it will be some months before the young are able to stand shipment.

R.F.S.

* * *

May 13, 1929

Mr. T. B. White,

Warden.

Sir:-

Concerning this green food problem, which confronts me every breeding season there is a very simple solution if you would dare to permit it.

A great deal of soil is washed down into the lower end of our yard. If I could retain this in a space about 10 x 20 it would grow all the green food my birds could eat during the growing season and it would always be available when needed. The only things necessary would be the placing of two 2” x 6” boards to form the plot and a little soil for a starter. I have talked to Mr. Edmonds, the guard in isolation (who by the way is one of the most efficient, conscientious and thoroughly reliable men it has been my pleasure to meet. Absolutely impersonal in his dealing with us – a quality that in the past has often been conspicuous by its absence) and the only difficulty in arranging this matter is a possible objection from you.

If you have no objection, your approval on this note is all that will be necessary for me to accomplish what I wish in this respect.

And while addressing you, I wish to express my thanks and appreciation of your kind thoughtfulness in permitting us to attend the entertainment in chapel a week ago Sunday. That this was granted of your own volition shows a disposition on your part that is highly commendable and which I have and shall continue to try to merit by my conduct. For this as well as your other innumerable kindnesses, I most sincerely thank you.

Very Respectfully Yours,

Robert Stroud

17431 – Isolation.

* * *

Box 7, Leavenworth, Kansas,

October 6, 1931

This is the only I ever

rec’d from Stroud.

Miss Enona Watson,

Watson Sanitarium,

Paola, Kansas.

Dear Miss Watson:

I have your letter of the 4th. Thank you for the good wishes.

Most of the matter in your letter is familiar to me and I have practiced it for many years. In my view we are all here to learn and to work. When we have no more lessons to learn and no more work to do, or when have failed to do the work or learn the lessons at hand, it is time to pass on and we usually do that. My life may be a mystery to others but it has not been any mystery to me for many years. I recognized my job and have tried to do it the best that I could, and what I have suffered in the processes was only the necessary discipline to enable me to do the work that was cut out for me. It is not necessary that we find life easy for that is not what we are here for but to engage in the struggle to make it easier and better for others and thus develop our selves.

You will be glad to know that I have good and loyal friends among the officers of that Rosicrucian Society at Oceanside, Calif. I made a thorough study of Rosicrucian and related literature, many years ago. We are both Rosicrucian’s

There is one point on which you are wrong, however, though that is not your fault. My business of selling birds is only an incident to my real work. My real work is curing diseases that others have never been able to cure. Do you realize that for all the disease to which man is subject you can count those that the doctors of to-day can cure on the fingers of one hand and have some fingers leftover. There is no doctor in the world who can shorten an attack of typhoid, pneumonia, small-pox, typhus, measles, or whooping cough a single day. And this in to mention only a few. These diseases all have their counterpart among birds diseases. They all belong to that class of diseases known as contagious septicemias, and are due to a germ that is in the blood. And it is this class of diseases that I treat in birds, and I have cured every one that I have treated or had a chance to experiment on. And before my discovery was made none of these diseases were curable in either pet birds or poultry. That is my work, and the birds only furnish the grounds for my studies and the money to finance them. I shall carry on or be trying to just as long as I am breathing. There will be no new plans. If the work can’t be carried on here, there is plenty of room outside, and if it is my task to carry it on I will be out there to do it.

With the best of good wishes, and again thanking you, I am

Sincerely yours,

Robert Stroud.

Pittsburg, Kansas

October 5, 1931

Warden T.B. White

Leavenworth Federal Prison

Dear Sir:

I bought a Kansas City Star yesterday. I saw about Robert Stroud and his canary birds. There is a lot of publicity about it. All you can hear all over this town is “Did you read that about Robert Stroud,” “Isn’t it a low down dirty shame they way they are doing him, by taking his birds away from him?” The only way he has of supporting his old gray headed mother. The only thing he has in the world is his birds and his mother.

He is like any other son; he doesn’t want his mother to go to the poor farm. I know some men that wouldn’t care. I helped one man that was in solitary confinement for 2-years and 3-months. He would have been there the rest of his life. He was in a certain penitentiary in the U.S.A. Robert Stroud is not a bit worse than this fellow I am telling about. Furthermore this fellow is up for parole now.

Why is it any worse for Mr. Stroud to have his canary birds, and to sell them to take care of his aged mother? When Clarence Fisher was there he made pocket books and the prison sold them. My sister-in-law has one she bought. They have prison made garments in these stores for the citizens of the U.S.A. to buy and wear. I don’t think it is any more than right that he can’t have his birds to sell. His mother is old and can’t get a job to at now. What if you were in his place and had an old gray headed mother to take care of. You would want to do the same thing. You wouldn’t want your own mother to go to the poor house?

He did all his crimes in self-defense. I would do the same thing if a man started to kill me. You or any other man would be a damn fool to stand and let someone kill you, and not try to fight back. A man would be a fool to swear against another to get his parole and freedom.

Mr. Stroud’s picture doesn’t look half as bad as some of your noble guards. If you care to answer this you can. But do not write a hard letter like you did to Mr. Stroud’s mother. Listen White, this is man-to-man. You are not writing to a woman now. This Indian is not scared of any man White. If you have any questions about this letter I will be glad to answer. I may come up in the near future to see Mr. Stroud. I will have my attorney to look up and see if I can’t see him a few minutes. Also solitary confinement.

Yours truly,

K. Basley

* * *

An original hand drawing by Stroud indicating how to determine bird gender.

December 31, 1931.

Miss Mary B. Minor,

12 Minor St.,

Sturgeon Bay, Wis.

Dear Miss Minor:-

I am glad that you got the bird o.k. and that your sister likes him. I thought that she would. I told you that I would choose a nice one.

Now about the bathing. The reason that he will not bath is because he does not understand that kind of bath that you are using. I use outside bath houses and let my birds bath outdoors. Every noon when I go out into the yard for exercise I take the birds out. I run about a dozen of them into a breeding cage. I have bath houses three sides of which are closed in with caging and the other open. These hang over the door and the birds bathe and dry themselves in the sunshine. You can get an outside bird bath at any bird store. If the weather is real raw I would suggest that the bird be placed on the floor or table in the sun to bath, not in the window. There is always a draft in a window not matter how tight it is, due to the different temperatures on the inside and outside of the glass. If you have an open cage cover three sides of it with a towel before you take the bird outdoors in it. Never leave him in the sun till he pants. Never leave him out on cold days till he chills.

I hope that you have your seed by now. Mail has been pretty slow the last couple of weeks.

When your friends express their liking for that bird you can tell them that there are always a lot of good ones where he came from.

With sincere good wishes for the New Year, I am

Very Truly Yours,

Robert Stroud.

* * *

Box 7, Leavenworth, Kansas

December 31, 1931.

Dear Hilda:-

I was glad to get your note and to know that you got my card o.k. I will tell the world that you have not been forgotten. I have thought of you often and wondered why you did not write and many times Dell has asked me about you and if I had heard from you. Many times I would have written to find out what was the matter but I have been very busy, Honey, and when I say that you do not realize the half of it.

I am sure sorry that you did not have a nice Christmas, Honey and I do hope that the New Year brings you nothing but happiness, all the happiness that you have always craved, Darling. And you do not have to stop your letters because you might tell me things. You know that whatever interests or affects you is always interesting to me. Tell me what that article said, Honey, There have been a lot of them going all over the country and some are good some other not so good and I am wondering which it was. I wish you had sent it to Dell. I do not know what the New Year is going to bring for me. One thing sure it cannot bring much more in the way of work and this one that will be gone in a few moments now. But even if it has brought me lots of work and a lot to worry about this year just leaving has not been so bad for me, for it has brought me thousands of friends, too. It has failed to bring me the things that I want most but then the New Year may do that.

The whistles are blowing now, Honey, and 1931 is over and I will make a wish for you and call it a day. I sure hope that this finds everything going well with you.

Love and KISSES, Honey,

Bob.

* * *

Minneapolis, Minn.

Feb. 9, 1932

[Handwritten] Copy to Stroud

Dear Sir:-

Have you an inmate who raises and sells birds? Would it be too much trouble to find out, if he has any literature on the care and ailments of Canaries? If he has some is it for sale and for how much?

Waiting and hoping to hear from you by return mail. Thanking you, I remain,

Yours very truly,

Mr. A. M. Amundson

3046 – 18th Ave. So.

Mpls., Minn.

* * *

1353 East 10th Street

Kansas City Missouri

October 21st 1933.

Mr. Zerbst

Warden USP

Leavenworth, Kansas

Dear Sir,

I clipped this notice an item from this morning’s K.C. Times. Will you kindly inform me if such is correct?

If so will you be kind enough to tell me when and where such ceremony took place.

I was unaware that the government permitted marriage of life term prisoners.

Hoping I may hear from you soon I am very respectfully

Mrs. E. J. Stroud

(Mother of Robert Stroud)

* * *

1345 East 10th Street

Kansas City, Missouri.

February 2nd 1934

Miss. Eilen Turner,

2525 Lakeport Street,

Sioux City, Iowa.

Dear Miss. Turner:

You have no doubt been looking for the prices of birds I told you my husband was sending you, since I sent you the seed prices and samples. The fact is Mr. Stroud wrote to you, but because his writing privileges have been taken due to the flood of letters which the public has written him since that article appeared in the press, it made the Warden mad and he has taken all his writing privileges from him. Before this he was allowed to answer letters regarding his bird prices.

I am inclosing prices herewith, and Mr. Stroud said to tell you that he was sure that you would be able to find in this list some birds that you like for they are all the very best of their kind to be had. He does not have any scrub birds.

He has on hands now just one cinnamon coated bird. It is a little border fancy hen and is priced at $3.00. He has several pink eyed birds in his Yorkshires and yorkshire cross bred birds. They are cinnamon with yellow coats. They will throw cinnamon or cinnamon marked birds, but all of the cinnamon birds have been sold.

There are two cinnamon greens in the Yorkshire cross bred birds. These birds if mated to females from the same stock would throw you some fine big cinnamon birds. He had planned to use them himself but would be glad to sell you one.

Trusting that we may have the pleasure of serving you, we remain

Very truly yours,

STROUD’S SPECIFIC

Mr. Robert Stroud.

P.S. All further correspondence should be sent to the above address as well as all orders.

* * *

ISOLATION

March 2, 1937

Mr. Robert H. Hudspeth

Warden

Institution.

Dear Mr. Hudspeth:

That interview I spoke to you about the day you visited my cell has probably slipped your mind. And though I realize that you are a very busy man and dislike to intrude upon your time, this is the month of March, the month when I must start to breed my birds if I am going to raise any this year, and there are several problems confronting me that I cannot solve without your aid, and I cannot start breeding my birds with any hope of success until they are solved.

So, if you will be kind enough to grant me that interview at your earliest convenience, I shall be very grateful.

Very Respectfully yours,

Robert Stroud

No interview necessary.

Advise you comply with past rules governing your privilege, keeping your rooms clean and sanitary, and keeping your number of birds down to a minimum.

* * *

Stroud seen in a rare series of press photographs while entering the US District Courthouse in Kansas City on March 28, 1963. This represented one of only a handful of opportunities for Stroud to view free society following his arrest for murder in 1909. He had already spent 54 years in prison, and by this time, had served the longest period in solitary confinement of any inmate in the United States. Stroud was protesting the Bureau of Prison’s refusal to allow him to publish additional books on bird care and diseases. He would die less than one year later.

Famed Atom Spy Morton Sobell developed a close friendship with Stroud while they were both inmates at Springfield. Stroud and Sobell enjoyed long debates over a variety of topics during breakfast each morning. It was Sobell who ultimately found him dead in November 1963, after Stroud had served over a half century in prison.

Ralph Roe, 260-AZ

Ralph Roe

Ted Cole

Alcatraz’s reputation as America’s ultimate escape proof prison would be shattered in less than three years after its opening. In 1937 two accomplices would break free undetected. Both disappeared into the icy waters of the turbulent San Francisco Bay. Though the fateful escape would end in the suspected deaths of both inmates, their escape was partially successful. Until the escape of Ralph Roe and Theodore Cole, the name “Alcatraz” had been synonymous with the phrase “escape proof.”

Theodore Cole and Ralph Roe had been longtime associates at McAlester and Leavenworth prisons, both had established escape records, and each was known in their own right as a Houdini of escape. Their crafty escape plan would give them the opportunity to sneak beyond the view of a correctional officer, slip past the barbwire fences, and into the chilly waters of the fog-laden bay, never to be seen again.

Roe and Cole maintained a close friendship at Alcatraz, both taking paying jobs and working side by side in the mat shop. The mat shop was a facility where prison workers transformed used car tires into rubber mats for the US Navy, and it was located on the bottom floor of the Model Industries Building at the northernmost tip of the island. The area was recognizable by the piles of discarded tires that were pitched down from the industry building, littering the waterline.

The two inmates had spent several weeks in preparation for their escape, studying the habits of the correctional staff, and working to identify potential loopholes in the security system. Using a stolen hacksaw blade, they were able to saw their way through the steel sash window grill. They packed the saw gaps with grease and shoe polish to avoid detection. On the morning of Thursday, December 16, 1937, dense fog forced the docking of almost all of the small vessels in the area. The forceful currents leading out past the Golden Gate Bridge and toward the Pacific Ocean were fluctuating between seven to nine knots, creating what were considered death-trap conditions for anyone willing to try their fate in the perilous waters. The two inmates were likely not aware of how dangerous the currents and foggy conditions could prove to be. It has been speculated that they might have seen the spell of bad weather as an opportunity to escape under cover of dense fog.

It is alleged that Roe and Cole bent out the sawed bars using a heavy wrench, punched out two panes of glass, climbed through the window, and then dropped down to the ground below. They swiftly ran to a locked gate that led down to the waterline. It is also believed that in preparation for the escape, the two inmates had constructed floats from lightweight metal five-gallon fuel canisters with specially made handles, and they carried these makeshift floats with them. Using the wrench, the inmates quickly unfastened the bolts of a chain link gate, and then laid the gate over the five rows of sharp barbwire, thus making a protected pathway down to the water’s edge.

Fellow inmate, Theodore “Blackie” Audett, later recalled that he was able to watch the two inmates as they made their entry into the bay and began their swim. He noted that he saw Roe come up out of the water several yards off the island, appear to be struggle desperately, and attempt to stay afloat in the rough waters. Audett claimed that Roe came up and then drifted into the dense fog, never to be seen again.

The San Francisco Chronicle would later run several reports of various sightings of the escapees, and all leads were rigorously investigated, although there were no fruitful results. Nonetheless, the articles kept alive the idea that such a discovery was possible, since both inmates remained unaccounted. In an article published after the escape, the closing statement read simply:

With long years of prison ahead of them, Ralph Roe, Muskogee, Okla., robber and Theodore Cole, Cushing, Okla., kidnapper, defied science, the natural hazards and the guns of guards, escaped and shattered a national byword, the legend of “escape proof” Alcatraz.

Both inmates remain officially classified as missing and presumed dead. The early writings of Roe show him as remorseful and pleading his innocence. His writings in this collection precede his confinement on Alcatraz.

The industries building from where Roe and Cole made their escape into the San Francisco Bay.

A tide chart illustrating the water state at the estimated time of escape.

* * *

POST OFFICE BOX 7

LEAVENWORTH, KANSAS

April 30, 1935

Mr. Sanford Bates

Drctr. Fed. Prisons

Dear Sir:

Am I bothering you with this, because I do not know what dept. it should be sent too – if there is such a dept. Sincerely hope you have the time to look into this; or will refer me to the dept. to which this should go.

I have a life sentence in this place for something, I had absolutely nothing to do with. Another has signed a confession that he is the guilty man.

I will explain the case the best I can. The charge was bank robbery at Sulphur Oklahoma – Sept. 10 1934. There were two men on the job.

There were nine eye witnesses to the robbery – Six inside the bank and three outside – One man positively identified me. All nine positively identified the man who was on trail with me. Most of them said “they got a fair look at the men, that I was six to eight inches taller than the smaller robber (I am six foot)

I was in Dallas, & McKenny, Texas on the day of the robbery – But as the circumstances were I had only one man by whom I could prove this – He was a negro – My lawyer advised me not to call him – Said, “him being a negro would leave a bad impression.” Two witnesses which the government had called, came to me, after the jury retired and wanted to know why they were not put on the stand – Said they knew I was not one of the men.”

I had no witnesses called for the defense only two were eye witnesses to the robbery. I made every effort to find all who saw those men.

I have no explanation to offer why that banker would positively identify me – only this, a woman came to me (She saw the men before, & after the robbery) Said, “She went to the sheriff of that county, After she had looked at the other fellow, & myself, and told him I was not one of the men. He (the Sheriff) told her to just be quiet about it – that the case would be tried on its merit. My lawyer advised me against appeal – Or said, it would be useless. I have since had another lawyer look into the case, He says the case was terribly bungled, and that an appeal would be useless now.

Here is the other side of the case – I realize it is much against me – Though I know I am innocent of this crime.

I was arrested in the company of the other defendant, and a third party. I was an ex-convict at the time of arrest. I had been arrested before in the company of notorious criminals.

All this was just before the jury – By me taking the stand. Still the jury was deadlocked for twenty six hours before reaching a verdict. I have learned since the trial, that the gun which this banker identified as the one he was robbed with – Was purchased after the date of the robbery.

Mr. Bates I do not mean this as an appeal or your sympathy. Every statement I’ve made here can be checked by any competent investigator. I only want to get in touch with someone who is interested in seeing justice done. Of course if being an ex-convict entitles me to a life sentence for someone else’s crime, then I have my just deserts.

Let me also state in my own behalf, that the guilty man is confined in this place. And that he fits the description given by all eye witnesses; with the description of the one. Ennis Smiddy is the man who has signed the statement.

I have appealed to the social service man here. He’s advised me to write you. I have no one outside who could, or would, do anything. I do hope you can see your way clear, to help me in this matter – If not will more than appreciate it if you can put me in touch with someone who may be interested in a matter of this kind – Thanking you in advance.

I remain respectfully yours,

Ralph Roe

#46153

* * *

POST OFFICE BOX 7

LEAVENWORTH, KANSAS Oct. 6, 1935

Mr. Stanford Bates

Washington D.C.

Dear Sir:

I wrote you several months ago about my case, & asking for your help or advice. You referred me back to the warden here. I don’t want to seem sarcastic about it – But he gave me no help. He refused to let my wife visit me after she had made a trip of five hundred miles up here – Because she did not have a marriage license with her. He has kept me confined in isolation every since I’ve been here – I have broken no rule – He informed me several months ago, that I would probably be locked up about six months until he made a decision on my case – It is now going on nine – Surely that is plenty of time – So am hoping that if you have any say so in a matter of this kind, you will call it to his attention, & ask him to make the decision soon.

As I told you before Mr. Bates, I don’t mean this as an appeal for your sympathy – But surely there must be such a thing as right, & wrong even in a place like this. I have life in here for something I had absolutely nothing to do with. Again I want to ask you; can you refer me, or my case to someone who would have authority to get something done about it, should they find in my favor, after a thorough investigation. The Warden here did inform me, “The Gov. did not furnish help to get criminals out of the penitentiary.” I don’t know what an investigation of that kind would cost – I can possibly raise four or five hundred dollars if it could be made for that amount – By offering to pay for the investigation: I don’t mean I would expect every doubt to be turned in my favor – Only a fair deal for both, & should they decide against me (I know they won’t) I will abide by their decision without a protest.

Mr. Bates does it seem reasonable to you, that out of nine eye witnesses to a robbery in broad daylight, only one would identify one of the men – Yet all would positively identify the other – They all swore at my trial, that the men were seen both inside, & outside of the bank, One (Gov. witness) swore I was not one of the men – Three (Gov. witnesses) swore that I was four to six inches taller than the man they saw – After being arrested I learned who did rob the bank, He is four to six inches shorter than I – He has signed a statement of guilt – Perhaps you will think – Why didn’t he tell this before or at his trial – Ennis Smiddy the guilty man was arrested several months after I was: on another charge. We had the same defense attorney – On his advice, & statement that I could not be convicted on the evidence at hand, & would only hurt the other man by bringing out certain facts – I went to trial – A life sentence was the result. After the jury had returned with a conviction – Two witnesses who the government had called, but failed to put on the stand, came to my attorney, & ask why they were not used, & that they knew I was not one of the men.

I asked the judge to give me a couple of days, & I could produce the guilty man; He refused, & I was brought to the penitentiary that night. I realize my record was bad, & know that is all that convicted me.

I don’t like to criticize – Also know most losers always squawk frame’up”. But we were the first to be tried (in Okla) on these charges – Looking back on it I can see a thousand mistakes, & realize that a trial before Robert L. Williams of a man with a past record – A conviction was a certainty.

I don’t want you to waste your time on something you may think is hopeless. But I will more than appreciate it, if you will help me in this matter.

Respectfully yours

Ralph Roe #46153

Rufe Persful, 284-AZ

Rufe Persful

In the early years of Alcatraz, when there was a strict protocol of censorship and an ironfisted grip on what information was released to the public, the image of Alcatraz was molded by speculation and widespread rumors. When the prison first opened to receive federal inmates, Warden Johnston employed a silence policy that many inmates considered to be the most unbearable punishment of all. Prisoners were not permitted to talk to each other while confined to their cells, while walking in line formation through the cellhouse, or during inmate counts. They were only allowed to talk quietly in the dining room when seated, at their job assignments (as long as it didn’t interfere with their work), and at other community events, such as motion picture shows and church services. During the silence era, inmates were harshly disciplined for even the slightest violation of this rule.

There were exaggerated reports that several inmates went slowly insane on Alcatraz because of the “severe order of silence.” Former gangster and kidnapper Rufe Persful took a fire ax from the prison garage while working a garbage detail and chopped off four of the fingers from his left hand in order to win a transfer off the island. Rumors among the inmates indicated that Persful begged fellow inmate Homer Parker, who was assigned to the same job detail, to “finish the job” by cutting off his right hand. In later years several other inmates used similar tactics—such as slashing their Achilles tendons—to protest the alleged harsh confinement practices and mental harassment they said they suffered at Alcatraz.

Persful later alleged that the finger incident was both an accident and a misunderstanding. Regardless of the truth, it was clear that Persful wanted to be transferred from Alcatraz.

Following extensive scrutiny by public officials, the silent system was relaxed in the late 1930s.

Warden Johnson, September 14, 1936

Institution, Alcatraz institution.

Sir:

I am writing this in order to save you the trouble of an interview. To you, this may appear fantastis and immature but, to me, it is decidedly a serious proposition. As you know, I once worked in conjunction with the Texas Rangers and the Burns Detective agency, and after entering the Arkansas State Prison, served in the capacity of a trusty guard, carrying firearms. In the course of events, occasions arose whereby it became necessary for me to execute the duties to which I had solemnly subscribed: namely, the killing and wounding of a number of prisoners attempting escape. As a result, it is only natural that many enemies were made among the criminal element.

When upon entering the U.S.P. at Atlanta, several of these enemies were found there, I right away requested a removal to this institution. In the meantime, two of the more desperate antagonists were brought here. But I could not then get canceled the requested transfer. Now it is a well-known fact that these same two men made a determined effort to poison me while in the Arkansas State Prison. It is also a known fact that they, assisted by some of their friends, are planning, and have already tried to do the same thing here. Numerous times I have found small pieces of glass in my food – even called your guard’s attention to it upon one occasion. This clique, which is so solidly allied against me, has repeatedly declared that they were going “to get” me, and they are in the ideal spot to do so. There is the skeleton of the facts – cold facts; not exaggerated delusions. Therefore, I am requesting a transfer to McNeil’s Island Prison.

There School facilities will be open to me, and no one knows better than you how badly I need the benefit of instructive schooling. Because I advanced no farther than the third grade, correspondence courses are of very little value to me. I would not prefer Leavenworth, for, like Atlanta, many there also are vengefully against me. Now I do not wish to offend by trying to go over your head with the matter, therefore, am bringing it directly to you. But, if you think it necessary as desirable, I shall be glad to consult Mr. Bates, asking his co-operation in the matter. Thanking you for your kindness, I am,

Very respectfully yours,

Rufe Persful.

Register No. 284.

[Handwritten Note] Interviewed – talked over matter – reviewed it from several angles – told him how to conduct himself so as to avoid trouble – I could not see any evidence of anyone bothering him here – he will probably apply to director Roe – Hansley – Mclain served time with him in Arkansas. JAJ 9/16/36

* * *

Alcatraz Island

June 25, 1937

To: E. J. Miller, Deputy Warden

From: Horace Diesch, Junior Officer

Re: PERSFUL #284-Az

On the afternoon of this date, I took the two inmates who are on my detail (Garbage Collection) to Building #19 where they change clothes.

We were a few minutes early, the time being 3:40 P.M., as I told them to sweep the floor before they changed clothes. They did so and gathered the dirt onto a dust pan which #334-Parker put into a trash can I had on my truck. At this moment #284-Rufe Persful walked into the garage and I started to make out my check list for the afternoon. I heard a shout and ran into the garage and saw #284-Rufe Persful walking towards me with a fire-axe in his right hand and the four fingers of his left hand cut off just below the knuckles.

I immediately put a tourniquet on his wrist and put him in the truck and had #334-Homer Parker ride on its side to help him if necessary. I drove up to the cell house and with your assistance took #284-Rufe Persful to the hospital.

Horace Diesch

Junior Officer

* * *

Alcatraz, California

Nov. 19, 1937

Deputy Warden

Hor: E. J. Miller

Sir:

A letter in behalf of my case. Since June, 25th, at 3:45 p.m. o’clock.

On that date, down at the old garage there were an accident happened.

And in that accident I – Rufe Persful, No. 284, a prisoner, of Alcatraz, Island, did accidentally lose my left hand.

But the circumstances would not let me tell the truth to you. Therefore I got the blame for cutting my on hand off, which was, an were right, but not on purpose, it happened in the queerest of accidents, which if I had at the time or any time it would have sounded impossible.

That is the reason why I did not tell, and why that I won’t tell. But Sir I would not have lost my hand for nothing in the world, believe it or not.

The prison guards here which that I have worked fore have, not mistreated me. But what do they do? Try to bug me. Am I crazy? Why of course I am. Why? Because they said I was. That is since that I have been here in the hospital. Oh – no, not all of the guard attendants or nurses up here have misused me. Some of them have treated me very nice. But others badly mistreated me.

What the – “Department of Health” wants you to keep clean an sanitary. But they won’t let me wash my hands and face, or teeth, before meal. Will you please tell me what I can do about it?

Respectfully,

284 - Rufe Persful

* * *

From Spring Field, Missouri. December 16 – 1938.

Post Office, Box 1000. Pocahontas, Arkansas

To Miss. Ethel Persful.

Dear Sister:

In reply to your letter of November, 26th that I just received this morning I would have got it sooner if you had not neglected to put the Post Office Box No. 1000 on it. I sure was glad to hear from you and to hear you all were well. But sure was sorrow to hear of Walter being in the Hospital. Hope that he has recovered by now. As for me, I’m well. Hope when these few lines reaches you they will find you all well. I’m sure glad to hear that you are at home to stay for the winter. Well it sure is looking like snow this morning. Maybe we will have a white Christmas. It is some cold this morning. Well tell Marthia, Decker Hello, and that I would write to her if I could, and to be a sweet little girl just for me. I received a letter from Jasper, and Reba, the other day. Pauline sent me one of her pictures, with her boy friend, it was nice. Say Sister, I wrote you the other day about coming up here. If I was you I would not come. Not that I would not like to see you. But I don’t think it’s best you know. But Jasper, and Drew Bower’s; could come any time; of course if Drew; would not drive him up here. Maybe he could get Jackie, Schooner to drive him up here and it would not cost much. I know that you folks need the money. I’m sure either one of them would be glad to drive him up here.

Well I suppose Henry and family will come down for Christmas. Tell them Hello for me. Write and till Walter, that I hope that he is getting along fine by now.

Well I suppose that old Santa Claus will visit you this Christmas, and bring you lots of fine presents; hope so.

Well Sis I hope to hear from you soon. I must bring this letter to a close for the present time.

So Love to you all.

A Merry Christmas, and – a Happy New Year to one and all.

Respectfully Your Brother.

Rufe Persful

Reg. No. (1442)

* * *

From Springfield Missouri: January 19 – 1939:

Post Office Box, 1000. Pocahontas; Arkansas:

To Miss Ethel Persful:

Will take the pleasure to write you a few lines this morning; hoping that when they reach you that it will find you well. As for me I am well and in good health; although some blue. Well this morning is a warm sunny day; the snow is now melting fast; It snowed all day the 17th. about three inch snow at the end of the day. I suppose you had snow down there to? It made me think of when we were just kid’s at home, when we would get a sled and go to the hills for a sleigh ride; Oh, that was some life; Or go a rabbit hunting in the snow: And to have snow ice cream when we came home. Oh yes that was a wonderful life for us children. But those days are no more; they are just memories to me, although sweet one’s.

I wrote to Mother yesterday; I hope they are well. When you come up here write and tell me the date that you are coming please. So I can talk to the doctor about it in advance. Tell Jasper, and Family hello for me and that I sure would like to see them all.

I don’t know the doctor told me that I may go back to prison before long. Sure hope that I do. I can get to work and make some good time there and could go to a picture show once a week to. Well when are you going to go back to work? Well Sis I can’t think of much to write so I will close for this time. Answer when you can. Love always, Your Bro.

Respectfully yours,

Rufe Persful 1442.

* * *

From Springfield, Missouri: March 26, 1939

Box 1000.

To Mr. Walter, Persful Gary, Indiana:

Forgive me please, for neglecting to write to you sooner than this: Hoping that these few lines may in reaching you find all in good health and enjoying life: Sure was sorry to hear of your sickness; But was more than glad to know of your good recovery back to health: Hope – Eva, and the children are doing fine; tell them hello; Sure would like to see them: Little Emma Jean, has grown so since last that I was there that I would hardly know her are MacDivell. Oh it would be a great pleasure to see them and more. They are going to school I am sure; Tell them to be good and mind their teacher and learn all that is in their power. Be sure and send me their pictures; It would be great to set down to one of Eva’s, good and delicious, dinners, once more. She sure is a wonderful cook: It seems a thousand years since last that I was there. Ethel, wrote and told me of you and Mack, visiting Father and Mother; Sure glad you did they are getting very much up in the ages; and have not much longer in this old world you know. Tell Clarence, and Marie, King; hello, also Luther Rose. I suppose that they all have good jobs; Reba, Jasper’s, Girl, She wrote and told me that Shorty Massey, was up there now; does he live close to you? Well it came a slow spring rain last night and leaves everything so fresh and green this morning; It is warm and beautiful weather here. I get to get out in the sun and fresh air 30 minutes each day except on Sundays, I don’t work; I have not worked any for two years; now: I have plenty of Books and Magazines, to read to pass the time. But still it goes very slow. Of course you heard of my accident when I very unfortunate lost my left hand. The newspapers put it out that I cut it off intentional. But far from it. I had no intention of cutting it off. Say Walter, when you write to me. Always sine your full name and address at the closing of your letter and put your name and address in the left hand corner of the envelope at the top, and my correct address. Otherwise it will not reach me. Well I think I will write Henry, and Amy, sometime this week are next; I have not wrote to them for three years. You know there is never very much news, here to write. Well dinner is coming, so I must hang off for this time. They serve my meals in my cell so I don’t have to go no place to eat that is something. ha, ha.

Well I will be looking forwards for an early answer. So Love to you and your family.

Respectfully, your, Brother.

Rufe Persful (1442)

Box 1000

Springfield, Missouri

* * *

From Rufe Persful. Sept 6, 1941.

Honorable, Warden:

Sir, on the eighth of October, next I shall on that date have been under your administration one year, and in that time I have been deprived of my rights as a model prisoner here in your Institution. I have not received no yard, fresh-air and sunshine in that time. Only one bath a week. Always dead-locked day in and day out.

Sir, I realize the source of my trouble as well as anyone. But I also realize that my health is in very bad condition at present and that is why that I must ask you for help in my case.

I have tried very hard since being in the Federal Institution to live by the rules, which was made by the Warden of the Institution where I was at; and in seven years I have been written up by officers three times for fighting and it was not always my fault. Outside of those three times I have had no trouble, and have caused the officers no trouble in that seven years.

Please don’t misunderstand my meaning. I have not been mistreated since being here, only confinement is getting me nerves and I cannot stand it much longer. That is why I am going to ask one last favor. Please, transfer me to Sand Stone, Minn, Federal prison, or back to Springfield, Mo.

Because I can have more sunshine and fresh air there.

Respectfully

Rufe Persful

14945

* * *

Refer to SC 9/30/41

for general review

From Rufe Persful #14945 December 4, 1942.

To Senior Warden

Sir:

In regards to my case here, I have been in this Institution going onto three years, and have been confined in Deadlocked all of that time. I have been in Deadlock most of the past six years, except the last three months that I was at Springfield, Missouri. There I was allowed to go to the yard and get sunshine and fresh air. I have been locked up so close, that I am now speedily losing my health. I cough constantly if I do the least bit of work. I have a constant severe pain in my chest if I take a deep breath.

I have spit up blood after working at work which required me to stretch my arms above my head. My present health is not good. I shake like a leaf after a very small amount of movement around in the Cell. I feel that my health is gradually slipping away. And I feel that it will continue to slip each day I remain here. Therefore I am asking you to get me transferred back to Springfield, Missouri, where I can have yard and sun Shine.

Thank you in advance.

Respectfully,

Rufe Persful 14945.

* * *

From: Rufe Persful June 29th, 1943.

To Mr. P. J. Squires, Warden McNeil Island, Washington

Sir:

Since Oct. 8, 1940, when I came here I’ve caused no trouble. I don’t want to cause any so I’m writing to you. In view of the thoughtful little considerations you’ve given me, I regret I must ask you a favor, but you will see why the best I can explain it and still not put anyone on the spot. I have 4 ½ years left here to do in Deadlock and I can’t make it. You know I wouldn’t say this if it wasn’t so. I don’t cry. But (9) years in prison, with nearly 2 ½ years here in the deadlock, Close Supervision, no exercise, or yard and sunshine, and the aggravating human relations has broken my health and morale to a midway point in the fag between T. B. and another trip back to Springfield. You know the reasons for all this, you know they won’t change and no one can change them in this penitentiary. The only thing that can be done is to change penitentiaries. I have nothing against this administration here but I believe, due to my case, that I could get by a lot better at the Institution at Sandstone, Minnesota, and be able to get by there like other prisoners do here. I know that something has to be done, I’ve got enough of this, you know that I have avoided trouble so far. You know that. But people around here don’t see it that way. Now I am asking you a favor, for the rest of the time I’m here. I want you to order my cell door padlocked, leave me where I am at, leave my radio and smoking tobacco in here and shoo everyone to hell away from me.

Respectfully

Rufe Persful 14945

2-A-9.

* * *

From Rufe Persful December 17th, 1943.

To Associate Warden,

Mr. Delmore:

Sir, I don’t know just why I have been deprived of my exercise. The Officer in here said it was for running around on the tiers. If he said it, it must be so, because he is an officer; and yet I have not been on no tiers, except when I put out Magazines and radio programs. I have put them out for the past 3 years, and never had any trouble with anyone.

Your officer never told me not to put them out. I ask him why did not he tell me to stay down and he said that I would have only blew up.

I would appreciate it if you would let me out like I was. That is all the privileges that I have had for six years and a half. And being locked in my cell for twenty-three and one half of an hour gets awful long. Anything you can do will be appreciated.

Respectfully,

Rufe Persful

14945.

2-A-9

P.S. I will go nuts in here:

Donnis (Donald) Willis, 921-AZ

Alcatraz mirrored the culturist biases existent in 1950s American society, and segregated African American inmates in the cellblock section known as Broadway. The tragically deep undercurrents of racial tension remained a palpable presence amongst the inmate population until the prison’s closure in 1963. Former Public Enemy Number One Alvin Karpis chronicled in his personal memoir entitled On the Rock the severe racial tensions occurring under Warder Swope in 1954. Karpis wrote in part:

Racial prejudice, in existence before, is nearing the point where racism is bubbling and boiling... There are only seven or eight white guys celling anywhere on Broadway now due to the shortage of cells since half of the inmate population is now black. I recall the early days when there weren’t even enough Negroes to make up one table in the dining hall. Now it’s a split mess hall with blacks on one side and whites on the other and trouble lurking somewhere in the middle. Swope forces whites to cell on Broadway beside or across from Negroes as punishment but he has never been foolish enough to precipitate another riot by placing a Negro in the outside cells which are the exclusive white suburbs of Alcatraz.

Ron Battles, one of a handful of African American officers employed at Alcatraz during its tenure as a federal prison, acknowledged the tense racial environment at Alcatraz. Racial tensions sometimes expanded beyond the inmate population and into the ranks of the officers.

Donald Willis’s writings are reflective of the biases highlighted by Karpis.

I, Donald Willis, make the following statement and claim that, on or about April 22, 1953 while serving a prison sentence and incarcerated in the Federal prison at Alcatraz, California, and in custody of Warden E. B. Swope and associate warden T. Delmare Jr.; I was confined in a segregation cell in T. U. Building, by associate warden T. Delmare Jr. for having refused to cell in the negro’s quarters of the institution. I was confined in a segregation cell, starved and exposed to the cold, by the said prison authorities, in their effort to force me to move to the negro’s cell block, to humiliate me before the other inmates.

On the afternoon of May 1-2, 1953 and while confined in cell #6 in T. U. Building I, in protest of the discriminative treatment the officials were imposing upon me and from the infuriation of such treatment, wrapped a piece of cloth around my hand and with my fist, broke the light fixture in the cell and removed two small pieces of angle iron. I then used the pieces of angle iron together, as a tool to break the toilet bowl; Inmate Frank Davinport was brought to T. U. Building and placed in cell #6 with me. I explained to Davenport the cause for the cell being torn-up and impressed the hope that my action in tearing up the cell would occasion an investigation of the institution by the Attorney General of the United States, and my belief that following such an investigation the Attorney General of the United States would put an end to the discriminative punishment that was being imposed upon me, that he would grant better medical care for the inmates, better food, an inmate commissary, newspaper, radio, and other privileges that are given to prisoners in other Federal prisons.

When I had completed this inclination to Davenport, the guards brought our supper. After eating our supper we both went to sleep and sleep until about 7 o’clock when I was awakened by the other inmates making noise. I got up and made noise also by stomping on the bottom of the bunk. When the bottom of the bunk came loose from the angle iron frame I doubled it up. I then took the two small pieces of angle iron that I had taken from the light fixture and used them to knock the washbasin off the wall. I made noise by pounding on the wall with the pieces of angle iron until I tired. Davenport did not make noise saying that he was sick at the stomach.

We laid the small piece of blanket, the only piece of clothing in the besides our pants and shirts, on the floor and set talking about the other inmates who were making noise. We had been sitting on the floor and talking for about one half hour when several guards including, Lt. Rychner, Lt. Severson, Lt. Stucker, Officer Kirkpatrick, officer Runyon, came into the building dragging with them three high pressure fire hoses and turned them on the inmates. We listened as these guards went from cell to cell with the hoses. When they came to Davenport and myself, officer Rychner, acting captain of the guards and in charge of the “Strong arm squad” told the other guards that ours was the cell that they were looking for and told them to pour it on us. At that order the guards turned all three hoses on us. One or two of the guards then brought a long pole that was used for opening the windows and began jabbing us with it. We huddled in a far corner of the cell in a position so that the guards could only beat us one at a time. The guards continued to beat us in this manner for about one half hour before leaving our cell. In about one hour they returned to our cell again, ordered us to get on our feet, when we did they turned the hoses on us again. The force of the water, sand and gravel in the lines knocked us off our feet, while we were down the guards jabbed us with the long pole. This second beating lasted for close to one hour.

The guards left us, after opening all the windows, sprawled in about four inches of water. The beating left us both sick and vomiting. Davenport hurt his back from one of the falls and was unable to stand up on his feet. The following morning several guards came to our cell, asked if we were still alive and ordered us to stand up. Davenport complained of his back hurting and asked to see the Doctor. Then two of the guards came into the cell and stripped Davenport of all his cloths and one on each arm carried him to the dungeon. Later in the day the Doctor came to my cell and treated my ear which was injured by the water hoses. I told the Doctor that there was a sick man back in the dark hole; and if he would look at him and examine him he would see that Davenport was sick, but I do not know if he examined Davenport or not.

I did not see Davenport again until on or about May 6-7, 1953 when he was brought from the dungeon and again placed in a cell #33 with me, where he remained for one night and then taken back to the dungeon. A few weeks later I was taken from segregation and tried for my goodtime for destroying the light fixture, toilet bowl, bed bottom and wash basin. Associate Warden L. Delmare Jr. was head of the committee that tried me. I pleaded not guilty to the charges but was found guilty by the committee and forfeitured 245 days goodtime and fined thirty-nine dollars ($39.50) and fifty cents cost. I did not see Davenport again to speak to him until about June 20-21, 1953 when I learned that he had also been accused of tearing up the cell fixtures and tried for his goodtime. A month or so later he informed me that he had been found guilty, had forfeitured goodtime and fined thirty-nine Dollars ($39.50) fifty cents). With this information I immediately sought an interview with Warden E. B. Swope and explained the situation to him. I assured him that I tore up the cell, busted the toilet bowl, light fixtures, wash basin and tore the bottom out of the bunk, and that Davenport had absolutely nothing to do with it and was in no way responsible for my acts. The Warden E. B. Swope promised to check into the matter, but when I consulted him a second time a few months later he informed me that I had pleaded not guilty to the charges of tearing up the fixtures when I was tried for my goodtime, that the goodtime committee had acted and that their decision must stand.

The prison officials neglected their duty of determining who was responsible for the property being torn up. Warden E. B. Swope has refused to accept the facts when presented to him. This negligence of the officials is no doubt responsible for Frank Davenport being severely and cruelly beaten with the fire hoses and for the forfeiture of several hundred days of his goodtime. It is my hope that this negligence and gross injustice can, and will, be remedied.

James Boarman, 571-AZ

On a fog-shrouded morning in April 1943, James Arnold Boarman, a small time bank robber from Indianapolis, lost his life in an ill-fated break to escape the Rock. Only 24 years old, Boarman—along with fellow inmates Harold Brest, Floyd Hamilton (famed getaway driver for Bonnie and Clyde), and Fred Hunter—took two officers hostage while at work in the Alcatraz industries.

Floyd Hamilton

The inmates smuggled military uniforms from the prison laundry and had stuffed them into large canisters to be used as floats. The canisters offered perfect concealment and water protection for their clothing, and were a seemingly perfect floatation device with which to swim gracefully across the bay.

The environmental conditions seemed ideal for the escape, with densely layered fog enveloping the island. It was later speculated that the inmates had cut through one of the steel-mesh window guards in the old mat shop during the previous weeks, and hid their work by using grease mixed with other agents to fill in the tiny sawed gaps. One by one, the men climbed through the window, negotiated the wire fencing, and then hurried down to the rocky shore. Boarman and Brest attempted to maneuver the float canisters through the window without success, so they were forced to leave them behind, along with the clothing they contained. Hunter injured himself when dropping from the fence, and he took refuge in a small island cave that was recessed under the industry buildings. Boarman, Brest, and Hamilton each started their swim to freedom, partially obscured by the breaking fog.

Meanwhile, one of the hostage officers had succeeded in loosening his gag and started yelling for help. But, because of the noise of the loud machinery, his cries went unheard. At about the same time, officer Frank L. Johnson—who was assigned to the tower atop Model Industries building—had already contacted armory Officer Cliff Fish to indicate that he was unable to make contact with the officers in the mat shop. Fish, who was just being relieved from duty, responded to the industries to investigate the problem, accompanied by officers Phil Bergen and Earl Long. Johnson stepped outside of the tower booth, and immediately spotted several figures in the water, swimming away from the island.

Lifting his rifle, Johnson strained to peer into the target site as several faint figures continued to advance away from the island in the foggy seascape. Watching the figures move in rhythm with the sea, he drew his grip tight, and squeezed the trigger until the pressure of the spring gave way to a ragging explosive shot. He repeated the process, sighting each moving figure, and then firing his Springfield .30-06. Each round released a caustic smell of burnt gunpowder, which mixed with the misty salt air. Brest and Boarman saw the geyser-like splash patterns in the water around them, accompanied by the distant sharp cracking sound of a high-powered rifle. After each round was fired, silence would drape the water until the next blast racked the air. As Brest and Boarman swam almost side by side a few hundred yards from shore, the sounds of Boarman’s thrashing suddenly stopped. As Brest reached out to examine the silent form of his fellow inmate, the water surrounding them started to turn an eerie red.

Boarman’s eyes were open, but glazed over by the seawater as Brest tried to maintain his grip on his accomplice’s limp body. Boarman was bleeding profusely from what appeared to be a bullet wound behind his left ear. The prison launch pulled alongside the two inmates, and an officer aimed his muzzle at Brest’s head. Brest struggled to hang on to Boarman’s belt, but as the officers attempted to latch it with a boat hook, the belt broke, and Boarman slowly disappeared into the green murky depths. Brest was pulled into the launch and wrapped in blankets, then returned to the island. He was immediately taken to the prison hospital and examined. He had sustained only a minor bullet wound to his elbow.

Hamilton was initially presumed drowned. However, after hiding out for two days in a small shoreline cave and suffering from the severe effects of exposure and hypothermia, he made his way back up to the industries area where he was discovered by a correctional officer. Hunter had hid in the same cave, but surrendered quickly after the escape.

Boarman’s death was the end of a long, rudderless course that had started early in his youth and finally landed him on Alcatraz.  Born on November 3, 1919 in Whalen, Kentucky, he was the sixth in a family of eight children. His father, who had supported the family as a carpenter, died of an accidental drowning when James was only seven. His mother, a homemaker, relocated the family to Indiana where they would all share residence in a small apartment. Boarman attended Catholic School in Indianapolis, and dropped out to work as a gardener at age fourteen. His mother would later state that James always had brought his earnings home, and never complained about the family’s financial troubles. Despite their hardships and their dependence upon welfare support, reports state that his family was close, and that they all worked together to help and support each other.

Boarman’s bouts with crime first began when he was still very young. In May 1936 he stole his first automobile, and after being arrested and placed on probation, he stole two other cars and headed for California with two accomplices. His mother pled his case in court, stating that she had been hospitalized due to illness, and that he had lacked proper supervision when he needed it most. The court proved unsympathetic to her pleas, and on January 30, 1937, Boarman was sentenced to three years in the Federal Reformatory at El Reno, Oklahoma.

Boarman and four other inmates plotted an escape from El Reno, and later were recommended for transfer to a more secure prison facility at USP Lewisburg in September 1937. At Lewisburg he continued to assemble a record of conduct violations. In 1940, following another violent escape attempt, Boarman was recommended for transfer to Alcatraz.

Boarman’s mother never seemed to lose faith in her son, and she uprooted her life and moving to San Francisco to provide her son support and companionship. Until the end, Boarman remained a difficult and challenging inmate. There are only a few letters remaining in Boarman’s file, but they remain a tragic bookend to one of the hopeless dreams of escaping life at Alcatraz.

* * *

Nov. 29, 1940

Indianapolis, Ind.

Dear Sir;

My letter was returned to me stating that I am not listed as an approved correspondent of James Arnold Boarman. Arnold and I are about the same age and have always been pals. It would be awful if I could not write to him. He will be away from home a long time. Please, please, reconsider to let me write to my brother. When Arnold was in prison before I never received a letter back but once and that was because I failed to write my whole name which is Mary Louise Johnson. I omitted Mary and it was returned to me. Perhaps you returned my letter because I wrote a joke in it which I am very sorry for if it was.

Arnold broke my heart when he got into trouble again. I, so much wanted to see him go straight and be happy. We were in an orphanage together and I love my brother so please let me write to him.

I know how this would make my mother feel if she knew, as she always depended on me to write as much as I could to him.

Arnold was swell to me and always called me “Butch.” Maybe you have someone in your heart like that you love. Please let me know by return mail as I won’t tell my mother until I hear from you. Hoping that you will understand.

Yours Respectfully

Mrs. Mary Louise Johnson

* * *

2820 Campbell St.

Kansas City Mo.

Aug – 26 – 1941

Warden,

Dear Sir,

In regard to my son James A. Boarman, #571. Will you please let me know how he is getting along?

He writes me he is getting along fine. Will you please tell me what the visiting rules are?

Yours Very Truly

Mrs Ella Boarman

[Handwritten Note] Interviewed – he says his mother has raised large family (8) that he is black sheep caused her lots of trouble and she gives him lots of attention and is now talking about coming to San Francisco so as to be near him but he has attempted to advise he against moving – says he is well and getting along OK –

JAJ 9/3/41

* * *

1422 California

San Francisco, Calif.

February 9, 1942

Warden James A. Johnston

Alcatraz Island

San Francisco, Calif.

Dear Sir,

I have come to San Francisco to live so that I might visit my son, James Arnold Boarman #571, as often as possible. I have obtained employment and as yet I am not quite certain of my working hours. I was told that I could not visit on Sunday. Would you please inform me as to when I can visit him and how I should go about it.

I would also like to know if there is any way that I can receive mail from Alcatraz without anyone knowing about it. As I intend to make my home here, it would be somewhat embarrassing as you can see.

Thank you very much.

Yours very truly,

Ella Boarman

* * *

1671 Bush St.

San Francisco, Calif.

March 15, 1942

Mr. James A. Johnston

Dear Sir:

May I please visit my son James A. Boarman #571. March 26th

Thank you

Yours truly,

Ella Boarman

[Handwritten Note] Told that he would half to work and behave if he wanted his mother to visit him.

Stated he did not think he was going to work. And wished we would just tell his mother that he was all right. I told him we would half to tell his mother the truth.

This inmate is in solitary.

* * *

March 20, 1942

Mrs. Ella Boarman

1671 Bush Street

San Francisco, California

Dear Madam:

Responsive to your note of March 15, 1942, I am sorry to say that I cannot comply with your request for you to visit your son at this time because his failure and unwillingness to comply with necessary, reasonable regulations requires a temporary suspension of privileges.

When your son indicates willingness to comply with regulations and performs his allotted tasks, his privileges will be restored and at that time I shall be only too glad to issue the requested pass for you to visit your son.

Sincerely,

J. A. JOHNSTON

Warden

* * *

2027 N. Park Ave.

Indianapolis, Ind.

May 11, 1943

Warden James A. Johnston

Dear Sir:

Am enclosing papers which are to be filled out by the last Doctor who attended my son James Arnold. Also I must have a statement of some kind that will be proof of death.

I will pay any expenses entailed in securing desired statement. This is necessary in order to collect on insurance.

Also wish to say if my son’s body should be recovered. Please notify me at once.

Thanking you in advance.

Sincerely yours,

Ella Boarman

* * *

Alcatraz Mail Officer R.R. Baker.

Alcatraz, Cal.

April 14, 1943

Mrs. Ella Boarman

1707 Octavia St.

San Francisco, Cal.

Dear Madam:

I am sending your last letter to James, back to you. I am sorry that I cannot make delivery. I know that you will be deeply hurt over the tragedy but please try to remember that the boy went out a man. It takes nerve, spunk, backbone, to do what he did. The last time I saw your boy he was swimming towards Sausalito on his way to freedom. Don’t think ill of the boy he wanted to go and all your prayers would not stop him.

Perhaps I am taking too much upon myself in writing this letter, but please believe me I have seen you so often and talked about the boy with you that I almost feel that a note from me might help you. After reading your mail and his mail for almost two years.

Yours truly,

R.R. Baker

Mail Officer

Harold Martin Brest, 487-AZ

Boarman’s accomplice in the 1943 escape was Harold Martin Brest, inmate number AZ-380. Brest was one of the few select inmates to be committed to Alcatraz twice during their lifetime. Brest was sentenced in January 1937 to serve a term of life and a concurrent 55-year sentence for kidnapping and bank robbery. He was sent to Alcatraz on March 13, 1937 for “adjustment purposes” as indicated in his inmate case file. Brest submitted a petition of habeas corpus (which was granted), and he was remanded to trial court. He was eventually retried, convicted, and returned to Alcatraz in September 1939. He remained at Alcatraz until his transfer to another federal prison in April 1950.

* * *

21st January 1944

Carol Rogan

East Sydney

Australia

Dear Harold,

You won’t know what to think at getting a letter from me but first I will explain. I am an Australian girl my age is just eighteen. Tonight is January the 20th 1944. On my bed next to me is my 17 year old sister. She has just finished reading “True Detective magazine.” She and I just read a story about you and those other prisoners who tried to make that prison break. We felt very miserable when we read about you and I said a prayer for you. I have never been in prison myself but I have a pretty good idea what “hell” it must be. I don’t ever go out much down here. Australia is a pretty quiet place you know. There’s no night clubs or like of any description. The “Yankee” soldiers see it a lot different to back home. I have 6 sisters and two brothers. My young brother is just 2 months old. He’s a little ginger headed bloke. He’s lovely.

My sister here and I left home a month or so back and came up north. It’s about a thousand miles from home. We get awful homesick so we’re going home on the 15th February and never going to wander for a long time.

Although after the war we are going to be stewardesses on a ship going from here to America so I’ll probably call in and see you. That’s if you’re allowed to see visitors.

I am a waitress. I work in a large hotel. I wait on all kinds of people, mostly rich people. I often wish I was a little better off but I don’t mind being a good hard working girl. I have 2 sisters who are machinist. They have been at their jobs 8 years but my other sister and I are the two tom-boys. I suppose we’ve have worked in “chocolate factories” woolen mills” and all kind of places but it’s fun. We like a change now and then.

The large town hall clock has just struck 11 o’clock and all my workmates have just came home from the pictures and they are all talking about their romances. You know when girls are at that silly age and they won’t stop talking about who they have been out with, funny we two never bother going out much. I don’t think the girls can understand it. We are said to be attractive but that’s neither here or there.

Well I really don’t know what to say to you in this letter only I hope you don’t get very miserable for your not really missing much not the way the world is today with all this war and killing and one thing and another.

I know you aren’t as tough as they make out you are when I read about how you tried to keep your dead mate afloat when they shot him. I knew then you must be a pretty decent bloke.

Well Harold I suppose you’re tired of my silly girlish rambling so I’ll close. But remember don’t get too miserable or down hearted for there’s 2 “Aussie” girls who are praying and thinking of you and they both wish you all the luck in the world so goodbye for now Harold and keep your chin up. I think you’re a fine fellow.

Lots of luck

Carol Rogan

P.S. Please write soon and if you ever need any little thing let me know.

Battle of Alcatraz

The Battle of Alcatraz was one of the most violent prison escape attempts ever recorded in United States history. Reinforcements were brought in from a variety of agencies to help gain back control of Alcatraz Island. They included personnel from the Bureau of Prisons, law enforcement agencies, and the military.

May 13, 1946,

Washington D.C.

My Dear Warden Johnston:

Mr. Bennett has just given me an account of the manner in which the courage, bravery and quick thinking of you and your staff prevented the mutiny at Alcatraz from becoming a truly serious calamity.

I would like you and every member of your staff to know of my appreciation and admiration for the outstandingly courageous and intelligent with which you and your officers coped with the revolt. All of you performed a signal service in protecting the public from the desperate criminals with whom you must deal and showed a devotion to duty which I am sure will command the admiration of every good citizen. The fine job you did under extremely difficult and seriously dangerous circumstances will add further to the excellent reputation the Federal Prison Service has earned.

Our sincerest sympathy goes forward to the families of those officers who died shielding the lives of others and our best wishes for a speedy recovery are extended to those who performed their tasks so unselfishly.

Sincerely yours,

Tom Clark

Attorney General

United States of America

Spectators lined the shores of San Francisco, watching the embattled prison. The sounds of gunfire and bombing resonated throughout the city.

On May 2, 1946, six convicts embarked on one of the most violent escape attempts ever made on the Rock. Many historians rank this attempt as the most significant event in the island’s 29-year history as a federal penitentiary, and the contemporary press appropriately labeled it the Battle of Alcatraz. Of the 39 convicts who attempted to escape over the years, Bernie Coy was the only inmate to successfully plot and execute a plan to secure weapons – which were used with deadly consequences. In the wake of the conflict, two correctional officers and three inmates lay dead from bullet wounds, and several others were left seriously injured. This legendary escape attempt would remain a topic of discussion for inmates and guards alike until the prison’s closure in 1963.

Forty-six year old Bernard Paul Coy was a hillbilly bank robber serving out the remainder of a 25-year sentence on the Rock. His escape plan was derived from carefully studying the habits of various guards and their assignments over a period of several months. On May 2, 1946, Coy, with the help of accomplice and former Public Enemy Joseph Cretzer, smeared axle grease over his chest, head, and extremities, and started climbing the west end gun gallery from the juncture at Times Square and Michigan Avenue. Climbing hand over hand, he scaled the barred gallery until he reached the top.

Clinched in his teeth was a small cloth bag that contained a crudely fashioned bar spreader device that was made from toilet fixtures from one of the prison workshops. The device was firmly set between the two bars (approximately 5 inches apart) and by using a small wrench, Coy was able to exert enough force to effectively spread the bars to create an opening nearly 10 inches in width. It was believed that he had also been limiting his intake of food to reduce his body mass. With Cretzer eagerly watching his progress from below, Coy painfully squeezed his body through the opening and made entrance into the west gun gallery.

Officer Phil Bergen later provided his perspective on the progression of events:

Coy’s experienced escape prone eyes, noticed what he thought to be a weakness in the physical structure of one of the gun galleys. The only thing that he had to do in order to put his escape plan in motion, was to distract the attention of the armed officer in the gallery, which he was able to do by creating with the aid of an accessory in the treatment unit, a disturbance which drew the officer off-post. When the officer did return a few minutes later, Coy was ready for him. He pounced on him, overpowered him, knocked him unconscious and took his weapons.

The convicts were now armed, and were able to capture nine unarmed guards and lock them into Cells #402 and #403. These were the end cells located at the juncture of Seedy Street and Times Square. Their escape plans folded when they were unable to locate the key that would unlock the door leading to the recreation yard. The key was bravely concealed by Correctional Officer Bill Miller, who had surrendered all of his keys except the most critical. Miller was able to quietly hide the key in the cell toilet (some references indicate that the key was kept behind the toilet) where he and the other correctional officers were being held hostage.

Coy & Cretzer had also released three other accomplices from their cells. Clarence Carnes (the youngest convict ever sent to Alcatraz), Sam Shockley, and Miran Thompson were serving sentences for violent crimes. The distress sirens that indicated grave trouble at Alcatraz began to wail endlessly, and could be easily heard from the shores of San Francisco. The US Coast Guard and Marines were mobilized, and provided demolition and weapon experts. All off-duty correctional officers were brought in to help take back the cellhouse.

Clarence Carnes, at 18 years of age was the youngest inmate incarcerated at Alcatraz as a Federal Penitentiary.

Sam Shockley

Since the takeover occurred after lunch, the majority of inmates were in the Industries building, and the cellblock was largely empty. Marines assisted correctional officers in assembling all of the industry workers into the recreation yard and helped to gather blankets and jackets for the inmates unable to return to their cells.

Inside the cellblock a battle was raging. The inmates, realizing that they were unable to gain access to the recreation yard, became desperate. In a violent rage and cheered on by Shockley and Thompson, Joseph Cretzer took his revolver and leaning against the bars of cell #403, started unloading rounds into the cramped cell. Officers fell in the gunfire; some were critically wounded.

The warden had called together his lieutenants and formulated a strategy to send in strike teams to rescue the captive guards. Lt. Philip R. Bergen was assigned to lead the first team into the cellhouse through the west end gun gallery. Led by Bergen, two guards fired several rounds to clear the corridor. The team rapidly made their assault into the gallery and up the stairs to the first level. As one of the inmates fired rifle rounds at the assault team, Bergen and fellow officers worked feverishly to rescue the officer that had been ambushed by Coy.

Harold Stites was also part of Bergen’s team and courageously returned fire, attempting to suppress the barrage. Stites was no stranger to this type of scenario. In 1938, three inmates rushed him while he was posted in a guard tower. In an attempt to stop them from securing firearms, he was forced to shoot two inmates, one fatally. The 1938 break attempt was one of the most violent in the Island’s history. The tragedy resulted in the death of a correctional officer who had been fatally assaulted with a hammer by inmate named Rufus Franklin.

As Bergen rendered care to the downed officer, Stites continued to lay rifle fire into the cellhouse. In a sudden flash, Stites was struck, and yelled out that he’d been hit. Three other officers were hit by gunfire during this assault. Stites was carried unconscious out of the gun gallery and laid onto a couch. He was quickly examined by the prison’s physician and pronounced dead. Stites would be the first causality, and it was later determined that he had been hit by friendly fire. The other officers were quickly transported by boat back to the mainland to be sent by ambulance to a local hospital.

Officer Donald Martin’s entries in his personal journal relating to the 1946 “Big Break.”

Amid the smoke in the aftermath of the battle, the United States flag was brought down to half-mast in honor of the officers who lost their lives during the siege.

Scenes of Alcatraz at war. Armed with field guns and mortars, the US Marines used heavy artillery to barrage the cellhouse in an effort to regain control.

Warden Johnston showing members of the press the blood-stained wall of cell #403, where four officers were shot in cold blood by Joseph Cretzer.

Hand drawn diagrams by Alcatraz Officer Philip Bergen which chronicle the violent events.

The lifeless bodies of the inmates presented by the medical examiner to the press. Clarence Carnes later commented in a documentary interview, “When they decided to die, I was there... It was on the bottom steps of C-Block, and they were talking about it like ordinary conversation. That struck me... I didn’t know what I expected but I didn’t expect them to casually talk about dying. Coy said, ‘Well... they’re not going to get me...’ Hubbard then said, ‘Well... they’re not going to get me either....’ Cretzer then said, ‘Well, we better save some bullets for ourselves...’.”

Bergen and four other officers returned to the gallery and communicated information from one of the gallery phone lines. It appeared that an inmate was running from cell to cell firing random shots into the gun gallery. At a little after 10:00 PM, the associate warden took a group of 14 officers and burst into the cellhouse, looking to rescue their fellow officers. The team fell under heavy gunfire from the inmates who had positioned themselves on top of Block C. One of the officers was able to close the Block D access door, and then was immediately struck in the shoulder by gunfire. After realizing their chances of escape were over, Shockley and Thompson retreated back into their cells to contemplate how to defend their involvement.

Not knowing the origin of the barrage of gunfire, the Marines started bombing Block D with explosives. The cellblock filled with dense smoke. Coy, Cretzer, and fellow conspirator Marvin Hubbard retreated into the utility corridor as the bombing continued. The Marines drilled holes in the ceilings; lowered hand grenades attached to wires and then detonated the grenades. The concussions were fierce and the prisoners in Block D hid behind soaking wet mattresses with little protection. The barrage of gunfire, mortars, and tear gas was ceaseless. Water from the broken plumbing started flowing from the tiers and flooded Block D.

Robert Stroud, the “Birdman of Alcatraz”, made efforts to end the battle. At 56 years old, he climbed over the railing of the third tier, lowered himself to the second tier, and dropped onto the floor of Block D. In what seemed to be a valiant move, he started closing the front solid steel doors of the six isolation cells to protect the helpless men. Stroud yelled up to Bergen, explaining that there were no firearms in Block D and that those involved had retreated to another section of the prison. He made it clear that many innocent men would die if they continued to barrage them with gunfire.

After nearly 48 hours of battle, the gunfire ceased. In the violent aftermath, Cretzer, Coy, and Hubbard were killed in the corridor. They died from bullet wounds and shrapnel. The mastermind Coy was found dead, and wearing a guard uniform. Officer Bill Miller later died from his injuries. A second officer, Harold Stites, was shot and killed during an attempt to regain control of the cellhouse. Thompson and Shockley were later executed sitting side by side in the Gas Chamber at San Quentin for their role in the murders of both officers. Clarence Carnes received an additional 99-year sentence and was eventually released into free society. He found life on the outside difficult and ultimately died in a federal prison hospital in 1988 at only 61 years of age.

It would take months before the cellblocks returned to any normalcy. The scars on the cement and the cell walls would remain strong reminders until the closure of the prison of the consequences of attempted escape.

Coconspirator and former Alcatraz inmate Clarence Carnes, seen here visiting Alcatraz as a tourist in 1980.

Bernard Paul Coy, 415-AZ

Bernard Paul Coy was the primary architect of one of the most ingenious escape plots ever implemented at Alcatraz. He would be the only inmate in the prison’s history to successfully secure prison firearms.

Reading Coy’s letters from the years prior to his Alcatraz escape attempt, it would be nearly impossible to predict his violent and premeditated break for freedom. His letters articulate what appeared to be a true desire to reform, as is illustrated in these excerpts written to the superintendent of the prison where he was incarcerated on August 30, 1936:

August 30, 1936

Mr. James Hammond:

I regret that this request must be made under the present unfavorable conditions, rather than under circumstances relevant to the continued progress of some noble social service. Please believe me sincere in my regret, Mr. Hammond; and if there is a loyalty of promise incapable of future betrayal, you may be assured, Sir, that your confidence in me, however great or small, shall never be abused.

I become eligible for parole, under the present stature governing similar cases, in October of this year. I should like to go home at that time, Mr. Hammond. I have a position awaiting me in Detroit, Michigan; also one in Elizabethtown, Kentucky. I shall take either of the two, at your discretion. However, I do hold preference to the former named. Without your recommendation, I can hope for little to be done. Won’t you do this for me?

It is true, I have served “Time” in other prisons than this one. I served – from 1 to 3 years – in the Wisconsin State Reformatory, at Green Bay. I also served a 5 year sentence in the Wisconsin State Prison, at Waupun. I was paroled on the first sentence and made good. On the latter sentence, however, I could obtain no consideration, due to the fact that I refused to change my plea of Not Guilty, to one of, Guilty, after arriving behind walls. It is a rare occasion when a man is paroled from Waupun unless he changes his plea of Not Guilty. I served the full five years. I was not guilty, and could not plead guilty. The reformatory sentence, on the other hand, was different. I was guilty as charged. And I plead guilty. These former counts, because of my attorney’s refusing to take the stand at the time of trial, were not used against me. This would have been unconstitutional had it come to pass. And I am of the opinion that what is unconstitutional in court is also unconstitutional at any other time or place. The parole board will not further punish me for offenses paid in full. Of this, I am sure.

Since my incarceration, I have made a record which is the envy of everyone. Not one time have I been disobedient, or sullen, nor have I set an example which would not be commendable in the best society. I am a firm believer in discipline, and regulate my actions according to my belief. I believe I have proved myself trustworthy. I am president of the Holy Names Society here inside the prison, a Catholic society, and I know that I have acquitted my office satisfactorily every moment. I do know right from wrong, and certainly try to be well thought of by everyone I meet. The Army and the World War, at age seventeen, gave me a background upon which to build a life equally as remarkable as your own; and I may yet put the right foot first. I am not too proud to ask for help, nor too weak to win if refused. I am not guilty of any crime and have nothing of which to be ashamed. Your will is my determination, Sir, in prison or, at home. More than this no man can promise.

And I am,

Yours very truly,

Bernard P. Coy

Only six months after composing this letter Coy was released from prison, but he was soon involved in more crimes, which eventually lead to his incarceration at Alcatraz.

* * *

Wisconsin Rapids, Wis.

July 3, 1937

Dear Sir –

In reply to your questions, we were married April 3, 1923 at Milwaukee Wis. He was a painter & decorator and at that time – a very good worker. He was, at all times good to me – but he got involved with an Under Sheriff & 2 older men and that was his bad start. We were neither of us married before – and the past 5 years he has lived in & near Ky. I truthfully can say that if I had not of failed him when he needed me most – things might have been a lot different.

I hope this answers all of the questions necessary.

Mrs. Bernard Coy

* * *

U.S. PENITENTIARY

ALCATRAZ ISLAND, CALIF.

REC’D.

OCT. 26 1938

Hillsboro, Wis.

Fri Eve – 8:45

Dear Bernard:

Spose you got my card from Rochester. Well they sent me home for three weeks to continue the treatment. I have to go to the hospital and have one of the nurses give it to me hypodermically. I can do it now as I’m pretty good with a hypo, but that is supposed to be in the hip and that’s hard for me. I take my own morphine, when I need it, and lots of times when I don’t. That is a habit that is easy to acquire and darn hard to quit.

I can get all I want, as there are some real addicts in this town. I’m alone tonight, with Kakomo, Nan and Jerry went to the show and Henry is to the farm yet. Have a good program on. They just played SLEEPY TIME GAL sort of brings back memories and I hate to think. If things go O.K. I’m pretty liable to see you before too long, but can’t plan too much yet. The fellows I worked for at Cicero are planning on a shot at Las Vegas, Nevada and I can work there. A gambling house. Will see how my health holds out. It’s plain H to be sick all the time, but physically I’m better.

Austin’s Dolly is sure growing and she’s the sweetest baby I’ve ever seen, and he is wild over her. I’m anxiously awaiting her snapshots. Hope they are good.

Dolly is fine. She sure makes a good mother, but I hope they don’t go in for too big a family.

Maxine just sent Nan her birthday present, a house coat and a hat. She (Max is fine – and Dot is OK. She is at Rose’s. Jerry is getting real big. He’s going to be a big man if he keeps on. About the picture, Bernard I have it framed and hanging in the dining room. I sort of hate to part with it. Just heard a report, the Forest Fires in Northern Minn. and Ontario are bad. The worst in years.

Well Bernard, gotta go and get Nan and Jerry, so I’ll say good night and the best of everything to you.

With love until later. How long will it be?

Peggy Coy

Hillsboro, Wis.

(RECEIVED HERE AT ALCATRAZ Oct. 26, 1938)

* * *

Alcatraz, Calif. May 30, 1939

To Mrs. Edward Long

Louisville, Ky

Dear Anna:-

Although your letter has been here since last week, this is the first chance I’ve had to answer it. Thank you very much. And I am well and back to work now, as you must have imagined I would be.

We have a fine show coming up tomorrow and I am anxious to see it ‘You Can’t Take It With You’ is the name of the show. And I might say, here that it has been a long, long time since I even imagined that you could—that is that you could take it with you. So many seem to think you may though. And if someone also seems a bit careless with life, it is never forgiven them. But what of it?

Listen, Sis, I want you to forget about Aunt Maggie. Don’t ever as much mention my name in her presence again. I will like it better that way. But in the meantime you’d better have attorney Duffy go see Judge Mix about Dick’s liquor case. Dick needs all the help he can get now. And now is the time to help him. If help is postponed until he comes home, then it is too late. Don’t think that I am saying something just to be saying it. I know what I am talking about. In the first place Dick is not the guilty man in the Meyer case. The ones who robbed the Meyer whiskey store are Delbert Lee Stiles, Ernie Wymann and myself, Dick was not even in Louisville at the time. He was either in Detroit or Greenfield, one of the two places. I don’t just remember which one. Paulie Long doesn’t remember either and if he doesn’t no one does.

To begin with, a man can’t remember things that don’t involve himself personally for so many years. And no one expects him too. Just have Duffy see Judge Mix and tell him who the guilty parties are. I have put all three of the names here in this letter for no other reason than to save someone who is not guilty of the crime. Certainly I should rather be hanged than to sit back and allow another man to be condemned for a crime which I committed. I want you to explain all this to Attorney Duffy, and if it stretches my neck, then there is some consolation in knowing that it is the right neck.

And in the meantime, give my regards to the old friends. And remember ‘You can’t Take It with you’ I hope the show is as good as the title.

Yours Always,

Bernard Paul Coy 415

Copy to

Mr. A.E. Farland, F.B.I., San Francisco, Calif.

* * *

From Bernard Paul Coy Oct. 5, 1939

To The Dentist

Dear Sir:

On the 6th of April you extracted the last tooth preparatory to making new plates for me. At that time you assured me that by July the 15th, I could expect the new plates. I haven’t heard from them yet. Roasting ear season is passed and the same rations of meat and other solids consumed by the then inmates, have done me no good to speak of. I can’t eat with the few teeth now remaining. I would appreciate it very much if you would either extract the few teeth I have left or fix me with the new ones.

I sent you a request for interview two weeks ago. But I suppose it got misplaced.

Yours Respectfully,

Bernard Paul Coy 415

* * *

May 11, 1946

Mr. James E. Fahey

Kentucky Home Life Building

Louisville, Kentucky

Dear Mr. Fahey:

Responsive to your communication of May 6, 1946, I give you the following:

Bernard Paul Coy, who was inmate Reg. No. 415-AZ, was a ringleader of a group of prisoners in a daring and spectacular attempt to effect a mass or group escape. Coy succeeded in securing a officers uniform and firearms. He helped to arm other prisoners. He and other prisoners were responsible for the wounding and killing of officers. At about 9:45 A.M. the morning of Saturday, May 4, 1946, he was taken from a cellblock utility corridor and the officer’s rifle and some ammunition were alongside of him. The Chief Physician who examined the body believed that he had been dead several hours, but could not fix the exact moment of death.

I believe the above information will be sufficient for you in your purpose to file the motion for certiorari.

Sincerely, J.A. Johnston, Warden

* * *

May 16th 1946

Mr. Johnston,

Please send No. 415’s personal property if any to me. And tell me where he was buried. I have not been notified in any way except what I read in papers.

It was impossible for me to claim [the] body. Any information about him would relieve me a lot. I was told by his attorney it was best not to have him brought back here.

If he has anything at all, such as pictures, letters, paintings, please send them collect.

Thanks,

Mrs. Anna Long

821 Racine

Louisville, Ky

P.S. I am his sister. Bernard P. Coy. 415-AZ

* * *

May 31, 1946

Mrs. Anna Long

821 Racine

Louisville, Kentucky

Dear Madam:

In response to your note of May 16, 1946, I give you the following:

After the death of Bernard Paul Coy, who was Reg. No. 415-AZ, we checked the record and found that the nearest of kin to be notified in the case of death was that of his wife, Mrs. Peggy M. Coy of Hillsboro, Wisconsin. Accordingly we notified her and told her that if she claimed the body we would ship it for burial in accordance with her instructions. The telegram was undelivered and returned with the remark that Mrs. Coy is now known as Peggy Grant and could be located c/o Post Office, Markesan, Wisconsin. We immediately send a telegram to Peggy Grant at that address, but it was undelivered and returned to us.

Immediately after death we turned the body over to the Coroner of San Francisco, who later released it to the Godeau Undertaking Parlors. Inasmuch as no one claimed the body, the Godeau Company buried it in San Francisco, California.

So far as personal property is concerned, we have made a check and find the following:

He had to his credit in the Prisoners Fund the sum of $6.16. He also had in his belongings a small cloth container containing a few photos which appear to be family pictures. In accordance with the required procedure the above listed personal property is to be turned over to his nearest of kin upon proper claim. Since your brother listed his wife, Mrs. Bernard P. Coy as his nearest of kin and the one to be notified, she should make the claim and if she does we will turn the above property over to her. If she does not desire to make claim and states that you are the next nearest of kin and wishes to turn the belongings over to you, we will then forward them on to you. The sun of $6.16 has already been sent to Mrs. Bernard P. Coy, c/o Henry Walker, Hillsboro, Wisconsin by our disbursing office.

Sincerely,

J.A. Johnston

Warden

* * *

The corridor known as Seedy Street, located between C and D cellblocks.

Marvin Hubbard, 645-AZ

Marvin Hubbard in the 1930s while an inmate at Kilby Prison, Montgomery, Alabama.

A letter written by Hubbard’s wife to the warden at USP Atlanta on October 17, 1942 provides unique insight into his personal history and upbringing. Herein are excerpts from her letter:

Marvin Hubbard at Alcatraz in 1944.

Dear Warden,

In answer to your letter received this week, I hardly know where to begin, I did not know where my husband was at, at this present time until I received your letter, it came as a quite a surprise, or rather a shock, as we had not been corresponding lately, I’m afraid I don’t know very much of anything that would be of help to you, but will give you my best.

We were married at my mother’s home in DeKalb County, on January 8, 1928. Neither of us were previously married, this being for the only marriage for either of us. We only have one child... My husband’s attitude towards me and the child, were very fine at times, he didn’t ever mistreat us in no-way except staying away from us for so much of his time, that he could have been with us, the harm he done was more of his own self than any-one else, only heartbreaks and sorrows, I had a fair share of that at an early age, my life has been filled with disappointments and heart aches. My husband has taken the responsibility of his family serious at times, and other times, he would leave us for a long time, as much as five or six months at a time, during this time he would never give us any support.

He was born and raised in Alabama, in Boaz, Route #3, we have lived out there part of our time together as well as here in Georgia. As far as where we have lived for the past five years is rather hard to explain, he spent a large portion of it in Kilby Prison as you no doubt already know, and the other part just here and yonder. His occupation has mostly been a bricklayer since I have known him, he does beautiful brickwork. Although he had farmed some during times when that trade was dull. His greatest handicap during these years, have been having no education, he was raised by a dear old mother who was left a widow with five children to raise, she did the best she could but could not educate the children. My husband’s difficulties he has faced in recent years, I think depends on him getting started with the wrong kind of characters at a early age, which gives him the wrong opinion of life, before life was hardly started for him. Before he got started with the bad characters he was very kind and generous hearted, made good friends with all of whom he met, was well thought of in the community which he lived.

I just wish to say here, that anything you can do for him to make his stay in your institution, profitable to him, and as comfortable as possible, will highly be appreciated by me, although we have been separated a large portion of our time, it didn’t take away the love and care I have for him. He was once good and kind and made home a place worth living for. I shall like very much to visit him as soon as possible, as I have not seen him since one year ago, last July 18th, 1941. Trusting this will be of some help to you in preparing my husband for his stay there.

Yours Very Truly,

Mrs. Lola Belle Hubbard

* * *

Ellenwood – Ga.

Dec – 6 – 1944.

Joseph W. Sanford, Warden

United States Penitentiary

Re:

Hubbard, Marvin Franklin

Reg. No. 62398-A.

Dear Warden,

I regret that my husband the above named, have forfeited his privileges, however I don’t feel that he really meant to do such but by some slip of thought are misunderstanding his why he did, for I know his visiting and writing privileges meant a lot to him as well as it did me. That was about all the bright spots in my life I had to look forward to was my visits to see him and letters from him, so if you will see that he has every chance to make up this, I feel that he will and I know it will be highly appreciated by me. I understand by his letter that he is no longer in the industries, so now he won’t be able to help me along. Will you please tell me why he was taken out? I need his help very much, even though I do work and make a little my-self. I don’t make much and in this day with living expenses up so much, I don’t see hardly how I can make out with what I have and live comfortable. Another thing my health isn’t so good, and I don’t expect to be able to work out very long. So if you will consider my welfare as much as my husband and put him back in the industries at an early date I will be grateful to you for that.

Please let me see him at an early date as possible.

Very Truly Yours, Mrs. Lola Belle Hubbard

* * *

/JAJ/

Ellenwood, Ga.

July – 17 – 1946.

James A. Johnston, Warden.

United States Penitentiary.

Alcatraz, California.

Dear Warden:

Please let me thank you again for all you have sent me as my husband personal things. Also for all your kindness and words of sympathy which are needed so much in times like this.

Remember me as a true hearted friend.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Lola B. Hubbard,

Ellenwood, Ga.

Route #, 1

Joseph Paul Cretzer, 548-AZ

June 4, 1940

To: Edna Cretzer

Berkeley, Calif.

My darling wife:

I was notified today that the Warden received a letter from you. He was kind enough in granting me the privilege in answering. I believe its best that you make no plans on coming here, because I’ll probably be unable to greet you.

The charge is not serious and nothing to be become alarmed over. We are being treated exceptionally well and feeling in fine spirit. In a few months I’ll be permitted to write and explain everything. I do hope you didn’t become ill and upset over this trouble. I was certainly happy the night of the 27th when I knew you were home. It seems I continually keep you underweight by causing you so much worry. Perhaps after this affair is over you can regain your lost weight and health. Maybe someday I’ll wake up and realize the sorrow and grief I’ve caused the one I love so dearly. There’s one thing I’m certain of. My mind guides my body not my heart, I love you too much to cause you sorrow.

I imagine the little man keeps you well occupied and leaves little time for thinking, is he still the man of household and can he still outrun sis? I’ll be very much relieved and settled after I receive a letter from you. It seems like years since I’ve received a letter. I would rather visit the dentist three times daily than miss your letters. The time will pass very quick and I’ll be writing regularly again. Tell all hello. I am certain everything here isn’t as serious as it appears. All my love for only you.

Your Husband,

J.P. Cretzer

* * *

Edna Mae Cretzer

U.S. Penitentiary San Francisco

Alcatraz Island, Calif. June 11, 1941

REC’D

JUN 12, 1941

Warden Johnston

Alcatraz Island

Calif.

Dear Sir:

I am writing you to beg of your permission to write my husband Joseph Cretzer 543 Az. I realize of course that according to your rules he must be punished but it is so very difficult not to hear a word from him as to whether he is well or not. I do not of course fully understand the conditions over this, but surely the mental torture of being confined alone in solitary is very severe and in itself should be punishment enough. Do you not think you could please grant me the privilege of hearing from him once a week in allowing me to write him once in awhile? You do not realize the torture and punishment which of course, we the relatives of those we love, must undergo not even hearing one line. It is just as though they were buried alive. After all regardless of what he has done he is still a human being and I love him dearly. Couldn’t you please figure out some way that I could write and hear from him just once in awhile so that I could know that he is alright. I would deeply appreciate any thing that you could do.

Sincerely,

Edna Cretzer

P.O. Box 1305

San Francisco, Cal.

* * *

San Francisco, Ca.

June 18, 1941

Warden Johnston,

Alcatraz, California

Dear Sir:

I wish to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the privilege you have extended to me in permitting me a letter to my husband Joseph Cretzer No. 548 Az. I did so appreciate your kindly and humane attitude as expressed in your letter.

I am afraid that I have allowed my imagination to run away with me in trying to vision his punishment. Perhaps I have been unduly influenced by the recent newspaper publicity which certainly did not picture the confinement in any pleasant aspect. However, I do feel more assured after reading your letter that my husband is not being mistreated or harmed in any way. It is as you state hard for some people to adapt themselves to a prison routine and my husband seems to be such an individual.

If you will be in your office in San Francisco any time in this month I would appreciate it if you would let me know as I would like to talk over a few things with you. I feel that I know the reason underlying my husband’s reputed attempts to escape. Perhaps, if that could be removed he could reconcile himself to his fate. I do appreciate and thank you for your letter. It was very kind of you to grant me permission to write occasionally.

Sincerely,

Edna Cretzer

P.O. Box 1305

San Francisco, Cal.

* * *

Miran E. Thompson, 729-AZ

Miran “Buddy” Thompson

September 10, 1946

Horace S. Thompson

Mobile, Alabama

My dear brother:

I received your letter of September 6th tonight; I was more than glad to hear form you. I wrote you last week, I hope you have my letter by now. Horace, I am feeling pretty good now, I guess about as well as I could feel where I am. I hope you all are well and having lots of fun, someone needs to enjoy my part of life’s pleasure, so maybe you and the rest can.

Don’t worry about me brother, I don’t worry so I don’t think you or any of the rest should, because I realize none of you did not get me here, and if I would have had a good strong mind I would not of been here, although no one can beat a frame-up and you and all the rest know, that is why I am here, not because I committed a crime, but because some people needed a little more money for their self. Well Horace, the trial starts the 17th if I can’t get it put off. I can’t seem to get my lawyer to do what I want him to do, although I know he has been paid some money, by some people, he told me so one time, but he didn’t say who gave it to him, the people must have told him not to let anyone know who paid him, but I haven’t gave him any money personally and he wouldn’t conduct my defense like I ask him to, and it is just like I told him, I am on trial for my life and I have a right to have it defended in any way I want to, you see there is several different kinds of plea I wanted him to, and I talked to another lawyer and he got mad and said he quit. I told him that was up to him, to do as he liked.

Tell Daddy, and all the rest I said hello and I will appreciate what they can do for me. I will keep praying for I have experienced the good Lords help before, and I know he hears and see’s and will help me as long as I am honest with him. You and Mildred keep praying for me. I close sending all my love and best wishes. Answer soon.

From your kid brother,

Miran E. Thompson, 729-AZ

* * *

Senior Warden, Name M. E. Thompson,

U.S. Penitentiary Box No. A-5140, San Quentin, Calif.

Alcatraz Island, Calif.

Dear Sir:

I would appreciate getting my pictures that were taken away from me on May 4th 1946. I know some of them have been given to a certain Detective Magazine Co. and one of them has been published and my Sister has a couple of copies of the Mag. If I don’t get my pictures, I am going to court with it & so is my people.

I have wrote you one letter since I have been here and three before I left the Island. I will appreciate your giving me the pictures, it is a violation of the U.S. Const. to take private property and I am sure you are aware of same.

M. E. Thompson

A-5740

* * *

FROM: Miran E. Thompson Sept. 18, 1946

729-AZ

TO: Mr. R. E. Thompson, 6 S. Dearborn St. Mobile, Ala.

My dear Dad:

I will drop you a few lines to say hello, and I sincerely hope you and Mom are well and happy.

I am feeling fine at the present time, although I have not been well lately. I went over to town today to court and the Judge said he would set another trial date next Monday, and the trial would be postponed thirty days or more. The reason for this postponement is because I have different attorneys from the one that was on the case, Mr. Burns, was doing as I requested his to do, so I ask him to get off the case. Daddy, I did not know, until today that Mr. Burns wrote you a letter, asking that you help me with the fee of $3,500.00. I did not intent to pay him this much money and I told him not to write you asking for any money and if I ever see Burns again I am going to tell him what I think of him and it is not pleasant either. I would of never knew he wrote you, if I had not gotten another attorney, see when I changed attorneys, Burns gave my new attorney a copy of all the letters he wrote, and the attorney showed them to me. Now, Dad if you sent that hound one penny, I want to know it? And if you have not answered his letter, don’t even answer it: And whenever a lawyer writes to you, you tell me about it before you send him anything. I wrote J. C. a letter last night, I guess he will have it before you get this one. Dad, the Attorney, I have now looks like old Bob Gordon and he is about your age and his name is Earnest Spagnoli, 3305 – 20th Street San Francisco, California. If you want to know how the case is coming along he will tell you if you write him. I have another attorney on the case with him, he is a Jew and sure can argue. Dad, I don’t think I will ever be convicted of this charge, because they know I did not do it, so don’t you worry yourself about it. Tell Mom and the rest I said Hello and Tell Billie I am going to try to get her on my mail list. Well answer real soon as I like to hear from you. With all my love and best wishes, your son.

Miran E. Thompson

729-AZ

* * *

Mr. James A. Johnston, M. E. Thompson

Warden, Box No. A-5140, San Quentin, Calif.

Alcatraz Island, Calif.

Feb. 12, 1947

Dear Sir:

I am writing you in regards to some pictures that were handed to you or Mr. E. J. Miller on Sat. May 4th, 1946, in an envelope, the type inmate’s mail reaches them in, it was wrote on the outside of the envelope in big red letter’s, photograph’s of family & friends, please do not destroy. There were ten (10) photo’s for sure, and maybe (12).

I would appreciate having the pictures returned to me, as some of my loved ones have passed on, and there is no more pictures of them in the family. I have made other requests for the pictures. There was also a statement of my sentence, a small slip of paper given me in Leavenworth Fed Prison, I would like to have it.

Truthfully yours

Miran E. Thompson

Box No. A-5140

San Quentin, Calif.

Inmates Miran Thompson, Sam Shockley and Clarence Carnes shown following their arraignment in a San Francisco Court.

Officer William Miller

Alcatraz Officer William A. Miller, circa 1945. Miller was credited for foiling the desperate 1946 escape by concealing the key that would have allowed inmates to breach the cellblock. Despite enduring fierce brutality while held hostage in a cramped cell with other officers, Miller heroically resisted the inmates. He was shot and killed by inmate Joseph Cretzer on May 3, 1946 in a fraught attempt to kill all of the officers being held hostage in fear they would later serve as adversarial witnesses to the events.

William and Betsy Miller on their wedding day (date unknown). Officer Miller was a graduate of the prestigious Wharton School of Business at the University of Pennsylvania. During an era of scarce employment prospects, Miller took a job with the Bureau of Prisons to support his family.

For the officers working at Alcatraz, keeping the public safe from the nation’s most notorious inmates sometimes came with the ultimate sacrifice. Officers—unarmed and often outnumbered—were forced to work side by side with some of the nation’s most violent and vicious inmates.

The Battle of Alcatraz was a clear reminder of the dangers of their duties. Over the course of the prison’s history, three officers would lose their lives at the hands of violent inmates desperate to escape. Numerous other officers were shot or injured during altercations and escapes, and sometimes forced to place themselves in harm’s way to protect even other inmates from peer violence. Some of these men were left permanently disabled and never able to return to work. Officers Royal Cline, Harold Stites, and Bill Miller all heroically put themselves in harm’s way and gave their lives. These men left behind friends, wives, children, and other loved ones who were left to survive on small pensions and in many cases forced to find other means of support.

Officers William Miller and Harold Stites were the two officers fatally wounded during the Battle of Alcatraz.  Their families suffered immensely as a result of their untimely deaths. The writings of Miller’s wife remind us of their tragic sufferings and sacrifices. Her letter was written only weeks after the incident, and is a portrait of genuine courage.

May 30, 1946

Department of Justice

Bureau of Prisons

Washington, D.C.

Dear Mr. Bennett:

Just want to say thank you very much for your very nice letters to me, they help to give me courage and strength to carry on.

My problems right now seem very heavy, and I am sorry that I made my plans to come back East, if only I could have had an opportunity to talk to Warden Johnston or yourself. My parents are dead, and my sisters are single, and they want me to stand on my own, of course I don’t blame them, as my children are young and only God knows what is in front of me. Of course I am not afraid, my children are good and very smart. I can only live one day at a time.

Of course Mr. Bennett, I don’t want to rush into things, and then wonder what it’s all about. I prefer to stay at home, and take care of my children, you know, no mother can truthfully take on two jobs, and you also know what happens to youngsters when they are raised on the streets.

I think my best bet would be to settle in the country somewhere. Do you know whether I could have a small home built, the old houses are bring such high prices.

I am sorry that I had to write to you like this, but I haven’t been able to sleep very much, and it is getting me down, if you can advise me in any way I sure would appreciate it. Do you know whether I could live in the Apt. at Alcatraz?

Thanking you for your kindness to me and my family, I remain

Yours truly,

Mrs. Wm. A. Miller

Henri Young

Henri Theodore Young

Rufus Roy McCain

In 1941, Alcatraz inmate Henri Young went on trial for the murder of Rufus McCain, a fellow prisoner and accomplice in a failed escape attempt. Young’s attorneys claimed that Young was the subject of continual beatings by guards and extensive periods of extreme isolation. Subsequently, the Rock fell under political siege for its confinement practices of inmates.

The trial became a worldwide media spectacle as defense strategies focused on prison conditions, working to pry off the heavy veil that the government had thrown over Alcatraz. In an April 1941 article, San Francisco Examiner reporter Alvin Hyman highlighted the emerging trial themes set by the attorneys:

Sleepwalking and dual personality, irresistible impulse and dissociation of ideas, strange psycho-physiological states in which the body acts while the mind sleeps—all these were briefly described in the court of Federal Judge Michael J. Roche yesterday as Henri Young went to trial for murder—for murder on Alcatraz.

In a letter to Bureau of Prisons Director James Bennett, dated April 23, 1941, Warden James Johnston wrote:

I have just returned from Court and want to advise you that at the opening of the morning session the defense put Associate Warden Miller on the stand and gave him a lengthy and detailed examination, questions relating to routine, discipline, treatment, punishments, deprivations and explanations of regular cells, isolation cells, solitary cells and what they referred to as the “Spanish Dungeons,” their express purpose being to show that the defendant Young having been subjected to imprisonment and while in prison isolation, solitary, so forth reached a mental state that they described as “psychologically unconscious.” While that was the intention, the form and manner of the questions were clearly intended to impress the jury with the rigorous discipline, severe punishments and bad treatment of prisoners at Alcatraz. In other words, put the prison on trial instead of Alcatraz.

Attorney James MacInnis would instill in the minds of the jurors and public that it was Alcatraz—not Young—who was on trial for the murder of McCain. His defense would ultimately make courtroom history. McInnis had only been out of law school for four years, and it had been Henri Young himself, who sought young and inexperienced attorneys to handle his case. In a later documentary interview, McInnis commented about his selection and the trial:

I was flattered, of-course, thirty-five years ago when the federal court appointed me to defend Henri Young, who at that time was one of the fabled names of Alcatraz. Alcatraz had the same macabre fascination for people in the 1930s and 1940s as it does in retrospect for people today. And, the Young case was a marvelous vehicle because it could be presented so simply. The whole theme was the utter brutality of the treatment of prisoners at Alcatraz. Young had a different kind of psychiatric drama in his own prison background, because on the day he killed McCain, he had been released only 11-days from the hole... He had been kept in solitary confinement for the incredible stretch of three-years and two months...

The trial theme was a staccato of terms like “psychologically unconscious” and “legally irresponsible.” MacInnis was a dynamic public speaker who held fast the attention of the courtroom, and shouted allegations of barbaric practices by prison officials. “It was Alcatraz who killed McCain. It was the cold, sadistic logic that some men call penology that killed McCain,” McInnis roared to the jury comprised of an insurance man’s wife, a publisher’s representative, a railroad man’s wife, a couple of homemakers, a steelworker, and other professionals.

Attorneys James MacInnis (left) and Sol Abrams (right) with client Henri Young (middle).

Henri Young was a habitual criminal with a long record of violent crimes, which included strings of bank robberies, kidnapping, and murder. At Alcatraz he was considered a difficult inmate who challenged and provoked fights with several of his fellow prisoners and officers. Young and fellow inmate Rufus McCain had both spent nearly 22 months in solitary confinement for a failed escape that had resulted in the shooting death of the famous gangster Arthur “Doc” Barker.

After Young and McCain returned to the normal prison population, McCain was assigned to the tailor shop. Young was sent to work at the furniture shop, which was located directly upstairs of the tailor shop. On December 3, 1940, Young waited until just after the ten o’clock count, and when a guard’s attention was diverted elsewhere, Young ran downstairs and plunged a knife into McCain with violent force. McCain rapidly fell into shock, and died just a few hours later from the stabbing. Young refused to disclose his motive for the murder.

During Henri Young’s trial, his attorneys made the claim that because their client had been held in strict isolation for three years, he could not be held responsible for his violent action. This was due to the influence of what the attorneys considered “cruel and unusual punishment.” The attorneys alleged that because Young had been tormented for so many years, his response to hostile situations had turned desperately violent.

Warden Johnston was brought to the trial under subpoena to testify on prison conditions and policies. Several inmates were also subpoenaed to describe the environment at Alcatraz, and many recounted “rumors” that they had heard of inmates being locked in dungeons and severely beaten by guards. They also testified that they knew of many inmates who “went crazy” because of such treatment.

During the trial, Young publicly testified about the extreme conditions that he endured during his confinement in isolation. While on the stand he offered the following testimony about the solitary confinement conditions at Alcatraz:

The cell was all black... It was nine by five by seven feet high. I was placed there in the nude. After my clothes had been searched for particles of tobacco, they were thrown-in to me. But not my shoes. I had no tobacco, no soap, no toothbrush. Because of the foul smell, it was like stepping into a sewer and was terribly nauseating. Two blankets were thrown into me at five o’clock in the evening. There was no bed or mattress, and no fixtures. The cell I was in was called the ice box. There was an old type ventilator in the wall that was always open. I shivered all the time. I was in my stocking feet on the cold concrete. At times I would get into a corner and put my coveralls around my head to keep warm.

When you walk into a black cell, you have to keep one hand on the wall so you won’t hurt yourself... I’d sit in one position until my legs went to sleep, then I’d move and lie on the hard cement floor. The concrete was cold and always damp. You never have a bath in solitary. All the time I was there I only saw one man get a bath. He had a bucket of water thrown on him.

You hardly ever slept, only cat naps. You wake up shivering, hardly able to move. You ache. Men were beaten into unconsciousness. I could hear their yells and screams. One boy was beaten after he hadn’t eaten for fifteen days. I could hear (Associate Warden) Miller cursing and raging like a mad man. I was scared to death...

The jury sympathized with Young, and he was ultimately convicted of manslaughter, a charge that would add only a few years to his sentence. He continued to be a difficult inmate, and was eventually transferred to the US Medical Center for Federal Prisoners, Springfield, Missouri. After serving out his federal sentence, he was transferred to Washington State Penitentiary in 1954, and was released on parole in 1972. He spent nearly forty years in prison. He finally jumped parole and vanished without a trace. Henri Young emerged only as a legendary crime figure and was never seen or heard from again.

* * *

January 21, 1945

Miss Amelia Young

Kansas City, Missouri

Dearest Aunt Amelia:

I don’t at all understand how the mix-up came about that you should have been told that I am in our church formally. Father Lyons has never had the opportunity to take me into our church. I have all the time been in isolation and cannot go to church...

Aunt Amelia, my dear, the fact that I am a true conversionist is definitely why I know I am going to be out of prison and a priest within five years. It is all a miracle I grant you, but one that your prayers helped obtain for me. I never would have been a Catholic, or even religious, were I not a true conversionist. And do so wish you would question your priest as to what a true conversionist is even after I give you these details. A priest can make it so clear by many illustrations that I haven’t the paper to draw out. A true conversionist is a person who re-lives every one of his sins. He is a made to do this by God so that he will be clean-souled enough to work for God on some specific task that God has in mind for that person to do. It is a miracle, a miracle of a human being going through Purgatory here on earth. Even your priest will tell you that I am the only human on earth who will know that I am a true conversionist until God chooses to reveal it to His Church, and I know that I am a true conversionist who will be free and with you and a priest within five years.

That was ever so good of you to renew my name at Saint Jude’s Shrine. I hope some day to visit there with you. Then we can pay our respect to Saint Jude in-person and have long talks with the priests at His Shrine.

Just as you have done in the past, Aunt Amelia you might do now, send the prayer book and calendar you have for me directly to me here. But wait until I let you know about the “Register” before you send them. They may have to go direct to Father Lyons. Yet I wish I had them now to turn to as a religious discussion. I know they are pleasing to God, Mother, and to Saint Jude.

Lovingly yours,

Henri Young, 244-AZ

* * *

May 15, 1946

Mr. and Mrs. Ruckman Ward

Oakland, California

Dear Bob and Naomi:

This is the first time I have had an opportunity to write you since the awful escape of May second. I am now cold. All of the Windows were bombed and shot out, and all the radiators were broken up by the shells. Workman are laboring to get the place warm again. And I’m writing this on a life news magazine held on my knee.

When that terrible escape attempt started I was writing a letter to Aunt Amelia. A while later I tore it up because if I didn’t come through all shooting I didn’t want anyone else to read it. At first the shooting was light. Another fellow and I sat on the floor until he caught a deflected shell in his shoulder. He wasn’t hurt badly. We however grabbed some mattresses and built a barricade at the front of my cell door. Then we stacked all my books up beyond that. Things got hotter. The noise of gun firing was terrific. We crawled under my steel bunk and stayed there nearly all the time. Those antiaircraft and antitank bombs the Navy and Marines threw into isolation lifted my cell up and crashed into my eardrums with awful din. I laid there and wait to feel the pain from a fragment or a shell. I never got touched.

Two real close calls scared me. One came at the very first and one at the last. But after used to the firing I slept a while over different periods. I raised up to look around the cellblock during some of the heaviest firing. The place was truly beautiful. There was a steady stream of brilliant white and red flares casting their lights over everything. Tracer bullets lancing through the smoke. Actually the worst of the whole thing physically was the pungent smoke from smoldering mattresses. I can hardly breathe and my eyes ran a steady stream.

When I wasn’t sleeping or talking I was praying for all of us fellows, the officers I knew were in danger of getting killed, and the officials and guards would have the courage to come in and capture those who caused such horror. It was a sheer miracle that so few innocent inmates were slightly wounded. Even the guards could hardly believe their own eyes, when they saw us all walking.

There is a big colored fellow among us who was through the Italian campaigns during the recent war. He laughed aloud and said even Italy was never so bad is what we went through.

Yours, with love,

(Signed) Henry Young 244 – AZ

* * *

September 30, 1947

To: Attorney General Tom Clark, Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir:

I am writing to you concerning a hunger strike, which is now going on here at Alcatraz, California. I want to present our just grievances to you in hope that you will require this Warden to act as he should. This hunger strike is taking place in isolation, where there are about 27 men, 22 of us began it, now we are down to 15 men, all of whom I expect to remain on it since the weakest ones have fallen out.

Here is the reason for the hunger strike. The two orderlies who attended to our wants in isolation which we others remain locked in our cells, are two men no came to isolation for protection because they had caused so much trouble for themselves out in the main cellblocks. They have caused so much trouble here in isolation for themselves that they refuse to go to the isolation recreational yard. These men are John Davis #557, and Ramos Nemine, whose number I don’t know. Both of these men are sarcastic and swearing to most of us. Both of these men have committed petty acts against us that hardly a normal person would do.

And John Davis #557 is now in the district courts on petition to prove himself insane. He is in truth for the man has been in several insane asylums. I have read his psychiatric record. He is a confirmed liar, as his psychiatric record will show.

And, you know that no person should be in a position to handle the wants of others who are so afraid that they refuse to accept the normal privileges of others, the main cellblocks or of isolation. That alone proves that the men are unbalanced.

This is now the 5th day of the hunger strike to have these men removed from their positions. No one wants to hurt them, simply to require them to cease handling our food and our other necessities.

It is peculiar that Warden Johnston has refused to remove these two men from their position in the light of similar past events.

Four men have been removed from the food job alone for getting into trouble with only one inmate. These two men are protected on it when 22 out of 27 men object to them.

Why Warden Johnston acts in this manner only he has the answers.

Will you therefore please investigate this matter and require that we isolation men obtain justice?

Very sincerely yours,

HENRI YOUNG 244 AZ

* * *

From Henri Young 244 AZ September 30, 1947

Alcatraz, California

To Mr. James V. Bennett Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir:

In this letter I am trying to obtain your help in relieving a couple of almost unbearable burdens from inmates of this institution. We are now on the fifth day of a hunger strike in protest against Warden Johnston’s unjust actions.

First, Warden Johnston has forced us to accept as an orderly an insane man, John Davis #557. This man is in position to foul our food, clothing, and the toilet necessities we require. He entered isolation for the reason that he could not get along with the inmates in the main cell blocks. He refuses to go to the yard in isolation for the same reason. He sneers and snarls at us as he passes our cells; he has been in several insane asylums; he is an escapee from the last one in which he was confined; and, now he is in the district court on petition to prove himself insane. You know that a man of such character should not have power over other inmates, and it is desired by us inmates that you require Warden Johnston to remove this man.

Second, Warden Johnston has some time ago taken away a great deal of our yard privilege. This was unnecessary. We receive only three hours of yard privilege each week now, and with hardly no change whatsoever from the administrative viewpoint, we could as easily receive eight hours of yard each week. This lack of yard has contributed immensely toward the cracking of men in isolation. There are two men here short-timers both, who hear voices – pure delusion. These men are Willie James Westley and Clifford Owens. Nothing at all is done for them, but soon they will go out into society with your permission and that of Warden Johnston. When the insane orderly we have now first came over to isolation he believed that many of us were “talking” about him when that was not true. If we can receive a longer yard privilege, even what has been taken away from us, we can cooperate to better the mental condition of these men who are cracking up.

These hunger strikes are not pleasant experiences. But as Warden Johnston has never indicated any desire to negotiate on such wrongs, we must use as severe means against ourselves as this. I am therefore seeking your aid, as a delegated representative of the group, to bring about a just conclusion to our grievances.

And may I hope that this letter finds you willing to help us?

Very sincerely yours,

Henri Young 244 Az

* * *

December 20, 1947

To: Warden Johnston

Sir:

We isolation inmates are making arrangements to protect your refusal to permit us a different yard status.

We see no reason why all of us cannot be in the yard at one time, especially when you can lock up any chronic troublemaker on any yard day, for example, Basom. And this separate yard basis is a constant source of agitation for the reason that it gives no inmate an opportunity to prove to the officials that past feuds are over.

No one would protest if you would give us all the yard on a three-day two-hour period week. We have discussed it and think that a six-hour week would be sufficient. At the same time, that would save your personnel expense, and the trouble of letting us in and out on the fourth day.

I hope you won’t refuse us this reasonable request. More of us want to buck you on this question; none of us enjoy a non-cooperative protest.

May we hope that you will give us a least the three-day, two-hour yard period?

Very sincerely,

HENRI YOUNG

* * *

This statement was made in response to the request for an investigation of Alcatraz, made by the jury that tried Henri Young for the murder of Rufus McCain.

Statement of James V. Bennett

Director, Federal Bureau of Prisons

May 1, 1941

I am firmly convinced that the jury which tried Henri Young for murder of another inmate in the Alcatraz Penitentiary has been misled about conditions at the prison. It has been impressed by tactics which sought to free Young through disparaging and attacking a public institution performing humanely and intelligently a most difficult task of protecting the public from hardened and unregenerate criminals. Young has been described by former United States Attorney Simpson and Federal Judge Stanley Webster of Spokane, Washington, as “the worst and most dangerous criminal with whom they ever dealt” and as “one who would not hesitate to kill anybody who crossed his path.” He has been permitted to go virtually unpunished on the basis of inferences and innuendoes made by inmates whose criminal records and life histories show them to be wholly unreliable and who were able to commit deliberate perjury with impunity since they could not be reached by any effective legal process. From such information as I have about the trial, it is apparent that the Jury had before it no first-hand information or reliable evidence as to the policies or methods followed in the management of the most difficult and desperate group of prisoners ever assembled.

Alcatraz is now and always has been open to inspection and investigation by any qualified or properly commissioned person or groups. It has been inspected by Judges, Congressmen, penologists and qualified private citizens and has been approved as a modern and intelligent method of protecting the public from those desperate criminals who have proved themselves to be wholly intractable.

The institution, for instance, was recently inspected by experts of the Osborne Association of New York, a private philanthropic organization devoted primarily to the investigation of prisons, and was pronounced by them as well managed and operated and as using no improper system of discipline. Members of the Appropriations Committee of Congress in the course of their examination of our estimates also recently inspected the institution and made no criticism of its methods or operations.

I have visited Alcatraz frequently as have various members of our staff and know personally most of the inmates, including Young. As a matter of fact, I have on several occasions personally interviewed Young and done everything possible to obtain his cooperation. I have never found or had called to my attention any authentic case of brutality or inhumanity at Alcatraz.

Corporal punishment is prohibited in all the Federal penal institutions including Alcatraz. We stand on our record as the most modern and humane penal system in the world. I have every confidence in Warden Johnston. He is a just, humane, and intelligent prison warden capably performing the most difficult job any warden was ever asked to assume. The entire institutional staff has consistently displayed their courage, patience, and devotion to the public service. They deserve the support of every fair-minded citizen whose homes and safety they have helped to protect.

The statements made by the prisoners so far called to my attention have already been carefully investigated by the Department [of Justice] and found to be wholly unfounded. When, however, a transcript of the testimony has been received, it will be carefully gone over as in every other case, and if any evidence or facts are found showing brutal or inhuman treatment, vigorous corrective measures will be taken.

Richard Neumer, 286-AZ

Richard Neumer

Former Alcatraz Officer Alver Bloomquist once described convicted bank robber Richard Neumer, AZ-286, as “Neumer the Nuisance,” an inmate who exhaustively complained about the conditions at Alcatraz. Neumer was a very close friend to Robert Stroud, the “Birdman of Alcatraz,” and had a reputation for inciting fellow inmates and scheming against the administration. Officers characterized him as an abrasive personality type who could never be trusted, even by his fellow inmates. Neumer was one of the prisoners barricaded in Block D during the Battle of Alcatraz. He wrote prolifically to federal officials and—as he sought intervention for the strict confinement practices on the Rock—to the President of the United States.

Alcatraz Island, California

January 12 1946

Mr. Harry S. Truman

President of United States

Washington, D.C.

Dear Mr. President,

Please excuse me for putting you to extra work at a time you are terribly busy on other matters.

Mr. President life for me here at Alcatraz, under Warden James A. Johnston, and Associate Warden E. J. Miller is getting to a point where it is double jeopardy, and causing me great mental strain.

I do not wish to cause myself any trouble by doing as others had to do to get medical treatment and other privileges due them. A fellow that flares up and losses all his good time gets treated better than those that do not.

Sir, truly, I can prove to you I am receiving unjust treatment through the prejudice of the Associate Warden, Mr. E. J. Miller.

Mr. President, I pray you will order an investigation concerning my treatment before my mental strain forces me to do acts beyond my control and against my will to do.

Sir, we have recently received a very fine doctor, Dr. Rochek, I feel he will or could help me if Mr. Miller would allow me to go to the hospital for the treatments that has been recommended for my trouble.

Thanking you in advance and promising to be a future good citizen I remain

Yours Respectfully

Richard A. Numer

Inmate #286

* * *

From Richard Numer January 27, 1946

Alcatraz Is., California 854 Woodhaven Ave.

To Mrs. R. G. Oliver Memphis, Tennessee

My Dear Sister & Family,

It is Sunday afternoon and a very nice sun-shiny Sabbath. Wish we could all go for a drive in the country or perhaps to the Memphis Zoo. Do you take the children out to Overton Park very often? I use to get a big thrill watching those silly monkeys. Ha.

Certainly glad you received and enjoyed the poem – “Ode to God.” I hope Mrs. Coons will enjoy reading it. I am ashamed of myself because I didn’t send Thelma a copy of it! I will yet.

Darn it, of all the swell sisters I had, it seems as though my life should have been differently woven. No one to blame but Poor Richard Acough! I had a swell opportunity from a swell Uncle and Aunt to gain a good education. That golden chance was thrown to the four winds. And of all the places to be chosen along life’s pathway to stop to realize – It had to be prison! Ha Poor me!

A bright light shines on the horizon! Hopes of my near freedom exists with me. Yes Linnie, I really believe something will turn out for my good. And if I must continue to serve the term to its long end; I only hope my mind stays together.

Through sending some letters to Washington and putting in some writs for Medical Treatment and yard recreation unusual punishment is being inflicted upon me. I am in the right Sis, and recently I wrote President Truman a letter asking for his help. If I don’t get the letter through to his personal attention then it must be that my letters are not convincing and God is not answering my prayers.

I could write you all about my recent hardships and undue punishments how long it took me to get proper eye glasses, how I have been trying to get the dentist to fix a bad tooth. How I’ve tried to get an English Course to better myself mentally. All about why I am not getting due recreation etc. I wrote it all to the Attorney General! I can’t yet see why he hasn’t sooner investigated. Try, Try Again is my Dutch motto. And keep your chin up!

Well I know Honorable Thomas C. Clark is a good man and we have the best President in the world. And also I have a Sister that can and will word to either if that time comes – which appears to be peeking around the corner. And Linnie I’ll assure you I have a legitimate complaint!

Sister I don’t say prisons are not needed and that criminals should not receive punishment. Far from it! But that punishment in prison should be just punishment. Filing writs in a United States District Court trying to get what you think is rightfully yours is surely no grounds to punish one. Discrimination!

Well Linnie Pray for me, that all will turn out right, and that officialdom performs their sworn duty as taxpayers and laws insist. I’ll say a prayer tonight.

With love to all.

Your Brother Richard Numer

* * *

From

Richard A. Numer

February 24, 1947

Inmate No. 286

To

Warden James A. Johnston

Alcatraz, California

Dear Sir:

I have been told that I stand a good chance of being placed back in population if I would write and ask you to do so.

Sir, I am now asking you to consider placing me back in population. I feel I can, and will, meet all rules and follow them.

I have been in Isolation now for nearly twenty-two months, lost all my statutory good time, and I have did my health no good. I think you will find out that I can, and will, do all right in population, and, after I am out, I think I can get your permission to have an interview with you. I wish to convince you, Sir, that I have something wrong with me.

My case rest with you – I hope you can, and will, accommodate.

Respectfully yours,

Richard A. Numer

Inmate No. 286

* * *

“D” Block

3-19-47

To: Associate Warden

I understand that #286 Numer is going to court next week. His plans of campaign is being masterminded by Stroud, and goes something like this: Number is to ask for a certain lawyer when he gets to court. The lawyer is then to ask the Judge to issue an order for the immediate production of certain papers which Number will say he left behind here. Stroud’s idea is that there will be so many pages and the time so short that the officials will not have time to examine them thoroughly. For the past few nights Franklin, Fleish, Stroud, Sharpe, Davis, and possibly others have been busy working on stuff which they apparently hope to get to the lawyer in this manner to be passed on to others.

The above plan may be changed to have Numer bring the papers over with him. In any event any papers going out in this case will bear careful examination. It appears that some of them succeeded in getting some papers out in similar manner during the recent trial. For example, Fleish got some stuff out which his sister picked up at Spagnoli’s office. All papers will probably be in Stroud’s handwriting.

Respectfully,

J. Mullan

* * *

3-20-47

To the Warden

/s/ J. Muller

/s/ JAJ

Theodore J. Audett, 208-AZ, 551-AZ and 1217-AZ

Theodore Audett

Theodore Audett held the distinction of being the only inmate ever sent to Alcatraz three times under three separate convictions. Audett, a convicted bank robber with a record of escape from USP McNeil Island, was the only inmate to have been issued three separate Alcatraz register numbers.

In 1954, Audett published his memoir Rap Sheet: My Life Story. It contained a foreword by Gene Lowall, a prominent crime writer and editor for the Denver Post. Audett’s book enjoyed strong sales in both the United States and Europe. It sensationalized some of the escape stories, and included his views on life served inside the walls of Alcatraz.

* * *

Prisoner’s Mail Box

May 15, 1932

Hon. W. D. Mitchell, Attorney Gen.

Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir,

I am J. T. Audett, No. 32137 and am writing you concerning the restoration of my good time which I am now serving and have been ever since the first of April this year, I claim I am entitled to my good time under the condition I was not responsible at the time I escaped having been pronounced insane by Government Drs. At McNeal island and it was during the transfer to St. Elizabeth. I escaped therefore under these conditions I am asking you to consider this and if I am entitled to my good time would appreciate very much to get it restored, would like for you if in doubt to communicate with Dr. Bennett of this place in regard to this hoping to hear from you soon with a favorable reply I remain Resp.

T. J. Audett

* * *

Alcatraz Is., Calif.

August 9, 1939

Hon. Frank Murphy,

Attorney General

Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir:

I was sentenced to a term of five years, on the 14th day of February, 1934, for the offense of the Dyer Act. And was immediately confined in the penitentiary on McNeals Island.

On the 14th day of June, 1934 I escaped. And was apprehended during the month of August, 1934, and transferred to Leavenworth, Kansas.

During the time that I was at the U.S. Penitentiary at Leavenworth, Kansas, Four-hundred eighty days good time was taken, the punishment for escaping.

I was transferred to Alcatraz during the month of September, 1934.

During the June term of court, 935 at Tacoma, Washington, I was tried and convicted for the offense of escaping from the U.S. Penitentiary on McNeals Island, and received an eighteen mo. Sentence, which runs consecutive with the five years that I was serving.

It is my understanding that I only have a very short time left to serve. Because of this fact and of my physical condition, I am writing this plea for your sincere consideration.

I was wounded during the World War, 1917. Since that time I have undergone a number of operations. And have been forced to use certain medicines, constantly, to feel well, and to have bowel actions.

Immediately after arriving here at Alcatraz, I made my condition known to Dr. Hess, a physician in charge of the hospital. But he failed to administer me any medical attention in any manner. His comment to my requests for medicine and help, was, that there was nothing wrong with me and that I was only gold-bricking.

During the latter part of 1934, Dr. Hess was forced to operate on me for lock-bowels. This operation done by him was a very crude piece of work, as he replaced my intestines, etc., in the wrong way.

Just recently the physician who is in charge of the hospital took pictures of my stomach, which plainly show the awful disarrangement and the cause of my present illness. Since the operation done by Dr. Hess I have suffered continually.

I have been advised that a major operation is necessary.

I sincerely feel that the present physicians are doing everything possible to help. But since the nature of the operation is very dangerous, I would like to have it done in a hospital outside and by certain physicians that operated before.

Every one in charge seem very interested in my welfare and show me every consideration.

I hope you are able to help me in this matter, by recommending enough time to cause my discharge. So that I can get the very needful operation before it is to late.

I sincerely hope that you will give this matter your earnest consideration, I am

Very respectfully

T. J. Audett

* * *

From T. J. Audett 2-24-41

2-24-41

#57948

To Hon. R. H. Jackson

U.S. Attorney General, Wash. D.C.

Hon. R. H. Jackson,

T. J. Audett, 57948

U.S. Atty General,

U.S. Penitentiary,

Washington, D.C.

Leavenworth, Kansas

Dear Sir:

I am writing you in regards of my case, and asking for your help and advice if it is possible. I sincerely do hope it is possible for I am now acting on your advice that you gave me when you visited Alcatraz. Your advice was to contact the U.S. Atty General, if things should go wrong.

Sir after being released from Alcatraz the 5-30-40 my intentions were to go straight and was succeeding in doing so; also making my monthly reports, I seen the Parole Officer several times about getting a job for me but he was unable to get work for me, and I was unable to get a job in Calif. So I lift Calif. To try and find work. And was arrested, 8-25-40 and held in custody until the date of my trial 12-3-40 without being allowed to contact anyone to prove my innocence.

I was charged with entering the First State Bank of Whitman, Nebraska with intent to commit larceny, (and was tried under Section 264 of Title 12) and also tried and found Guilty of the above charge and sentence to ten years in imprisonment.

Sir that brings me to the object of this letter and asking you for your help for I am not guilty and during the time I was held in custody, waiting for trial I could have proven my innocence. For on the night the said Bank was entered, I was no where near that vicinity and never have been to the said city where the Bank was said to be entered and I could have proven it but I was not allowed to see or contact no one. Also during the investigation before the trial I was told by the F.B.I. agents that there were finger prints found in the said Bank and that they had sent them to Washington to prove they were mine but they were not my finger prints, and the F.B.I. agent testified that they were not mine. There was no evidence at all against me only my previous record, and the jury that tried my case was told at the opening of the trial that I just got out of Alcatraz, (it was persecution and not justice) and since I have been here at Leavenworth Penitentiary I haven’t been allowed to write no letters which will enable me to prove my innocence so that is why I am asking your help. I am thanking you in advance if you will investigate.

Very truly yours,

T. J. Audett

Theodore Audett and Warden Madigan greeting a VIP guest during the grand opening of the officers’ dining room, which was located in the upstairs administration area of Alcatraz, 1961.

John & Clarence Anglin

The Great Escape from Alcatraz

Escape accomplice and alleged mastermind, Frank Lee Morris. His Alcatraz inmate record documented his mental condition as having “superior intelligence” with an IQ of 133.

John William Anglin

Clarence Anglin

Brothers John and Clarence Anglin were destined to become central figures in one of the most spectacular prison escapes in American history. With fellow accomplices Frank Lee Morris and Allen West, the brothers devised a cunning escape plan from America’s most secure and ultimate escape proof prison. The concept was to escape through the ventilation shaft on to the roof of the prison and then to swim to shore using flotation devices. The escape took over a year to design, and it necessitated the fabrication of clever decoys and water survival gear.

Accomplice Frank Morris had spent a lifetime navigating the prison system before his arrival on Alcatraz. Morris’s criminal record included a multitude of crimes, which ranged from narcotics possession to armed robbery. He had become a professional inhabitant of the correctional system by his late teens. Morris was credited by prison officials with possessing superior intelligence, and he earned his ticket to Alcatraz by building an impressive résumé of escapes. He arrived on Alcatraz in January 1960 as inmate AZ-1441.

Brothers John and Clarence Anglin were also serving sentences at Alcatraz for bank robbery; they’d been convicted along with their brother Alfred. All three brothers had been incarcerated at USP Atlanta when they first became acquainted with Morris. John and Clarence were eventually sent to Alcatraz following a sequence of attempted escapes.

Allen Clayton West

Alcatraz inmate Allen West, who occupied an adjacent cell, was also brought in on the scheme. He was serving his second term on the Rock and carried a reputation as an arrogant criminal. He knew John Anglin from the State Penitentiary in Florida. The escape plan started to take shape in December 1961, and began with a collection of several old saw blades that West allegedly found in one of the utility corridors while he was cleaning. In later interviews, West took the credit for masterminding the clever escape.

The plan was extremely complex and involved the design and fabrication of ingenious lifelike dummy heads, water rafts, and life preservers. These preservers would be fashioned from rain coats that had been acquired from other inmates – which were both donated and stolen. The men would also require a variety of tools, both to dig with and to use to construct the accessories necessary for the escape. By May 1962, Morris and the Anglins had dug through their cell’s six by nine-inch vent holes, and had started work on the vent on top of the cellblock.

An officer examining the false grill sections behind Allen West’s cell (B-152).

Frank Morris succeeded in covering the ventilation grill inside his cell (B-138) with the case of his concertina, thus diverting any suspicion from the planned escape. The inmates emerged from the tunneled openings in the back of their cells, and ascended through the maze of plumbing to the top of the cellblock. Their final exit was through a rooftop ventilator. As quietly as possible, they trekked across the rooftop of the cellhouse before making their descent down a pipe along the west wall of the prison.

The rooftop ventilator through which the inmates made their final exit from the cellhouse.

The inmates used clever decoys to fool the guards during the late night counts. The amazingly detailed and lifelike dummy heads were fashioned primarily from scrap bits and pieces. The materials included soap chips, concrete, wire, plaster, glue, paint, and hair that had been smuggled from the prison barbershop.

An FBI agent wearing a fully inflated life vest constructed by the inmates.

The Anglins inhabited adjacent cells, as did West and Morris, who also resided nearby. The inmates alternated shifts, with one working and one on lookout. They would start work at 5:30 PM and continue till about 9:00 PM, just prior to the lights-out count. Meanwhile John and Clarence started fabricating the dummy heads, and even gave them the pet names of “Oink” and “Oscar.” The heads were crude but lifelike, and were constructed from a homemade cement-powder mixture that included such innocuous materials such as soap, cloth, and toilet paper. They were decorated with flesh toned paint from prison art kits and human hair from the barbershop.

Using glue stolen from the glove shop, the inmates also started cutting and bonding the raincoats into a makeshift raft and life preservers. Each evening following the completion of their self-imposed work detail, they would hide the materials on top of the cellblock to minimize any chance of being caught with the contraband materials.

The inmates also acquired an elaborate array of handmade tools. West was able to steal an electric hair clipper while working on a paint detail in the barbershop, and he used the clippers—along with drill bits stolen from the industries by another inmate—to fashion a makeshift motorized drill. However, the motor proved to be too small, and the project required more effective equipment.

By a stroke of good luck, West had recently learned that the prison’s vacuum had broken. He was permitted to attempt a repair, and while inspecting the machine, he found that it had two motors. He carefully removed one, and was able to get the other working, thus deflecting suspicion. Morris and the Anglins were then able to use the vacuum motor for their drill. They attempted to drill out the roof ventilator, but they had limited success. The motor proved too noisy and it was not very effective.

After months of long preparation the inmates completed fashioning all of the gear they needed for their escape, and they continued working to loosen the ventilator grill on top of the cellhouse. John Anglin carefully completed the valve assembly on a large six by fourteen-foot raft, while Morris modified an accordion-like musical instrument called a concertina, which would be used to rapidly inflate the raft. But while the others had progressed well in their various preparations, West had fallen behind in digging out the ventilator grill at the rear of his cell. His primary role had been to construct the life preservers and special wooden paddles for the raft, tasks that did not require him to leave his cell. On the night of June 11, 1962, Morris indicated that the top ventilator was loose enough, and that he felt that they were ready to attempt the escape.

At 9:30, immediately after lights-out, Morris brought down the dummies from the top of the cellblock and announced that the escape would be staged that night. Clarence Anglin attempted to assist West in removing his ventilator grill by kicking at it from outside of the cell in the utility corridor. His efforts were unsuccessful. Morris and the Anglins had no choice but to leave West behind. The inmates made their final 30 foot climb up the plumbing to the cellhouse roof, traversed 100 feet across the rooftop, and then carefully maneuvered down 50 feet of piping to the ground near the entrance to the shower area. This would be the last anyone ever saw of Morris and the Anglin Brothers.

In a later interview, West said that their plan had been to use their raft to make their way to Angel Island. After resting, they would then reenter the bay on the opposite side of the island and swim through a waterway called Raccoon Straits, and then on to Marin County. They would steal a car, burglarize a clothing store, and then venture out in their own separate directions. West had finally been able to complete the removal of his grill and climb to the rooftop, but by then all of the other inmates had disappeared. With no raft or other means of escape, he was forced to return to his cell.

For decades, speculated abounded about whether or not this famous escape attempt was successful. The FBI spent several years investigating, and later resolved that the inmates’ plan had failed. The families of the Anglins stated that the escape had been a topic of family discussions for several years. None of the family had ever been contacted by the brothers, and they felt that the men would have made some form of contact if they had survived. The third Anglin brother, Alfred, was electrocuted on secured fence while attempting to escape from Kilby Prison, Montgomery, Alabama, just two years after his brothers’ escape from Alcatraz.

The mysteries are still being explored decades after the escape, and it remains as one of the most intriguing unsolved mysteries surrounding the world famous prison.

* * *

Warden,

I think I’ve done as much as any man can do to keep a clean record here. I worked as hard as I knew how. I have went out of my way to avoid trouble when I seen it coming my way. I worked very hard on my job over in Industry and liked it. I had worked my way up to a second grade job and pay. It took me two long years to get there and I would like to say that it meant plenty to me. No one has spoke up for me or did anything in my favor.

I feel that my two years here has been in vain to all of you. I think that I have earned the right to let all of you know how I feel. I’m not guilty of the charge against me and I want my job back. I’ve got thirty five years hanging on me and I can’t do it over here in A-S. I’m being punished for something I knew nothing about and I wish that some of you would come up with that same idea. I can’t just sit here and watch everything that I’ve worked for go down the drain without saying something.

This might not sound like much to you but here is one of my main reasons for trying to keep a clean record here.

I wrote my mother last year and told her that I would have a photo made to send her. I lacked just a few days having in enough time to qualify. So I wrote and told her that I would have to wait until next Xmas. She asks me about that in her letters. It doesn’t mean all that much to me, but it do to her. I haven’t had a visit since I’ve been here. My people don’t have that kind of money. I was planning on sending her a photo this Christmas and make a phone call.

I would like to know how and where I stand, on all this. I’m only asking for what I have earned here. I would also like some kind of Consideration on my case. Please.

Yours Truly,

John William Anglin

25034

United States Penitentiary

RECEIVED

NOV 30 1959

* * *

From Clarence Anglin

5/58

75H56

To James V. Bennett

Dir. Bureau of Prisons

Washington D.C.

Mr. James V. Bennett

Dir. Bureau of Prisons

Dear Sir.

I am writing in regard of transfer to Atlanta U.S.P.

I was transferred here to Leavenworth from Atlanta but not by my request. If I had broken their rules or done something wrong I could understand being here, but I was getting along real good there. My Mother and Family were visiting me. And everything was ok.

Now I am fifteen hundred miles from home and no chance of even getting a visit.

I have a long time to stay in prison. I would appreciate it if you let me visit them while they still live. They are not in good enough health to travel so far or afford such a trip.

For consideration I thank you in advance.

Clarence Anglin

75456

* * *

George and Rachel Anglin, the parents of John and Clarence.

A portrait of John Anglin taken at Alcatraz for his family. The photo can be seen being held by his father in the previous photo. It would be the last image his family would see of him.

June 6, 1958

Dear Sir

I’ve got two boy one in Kansas & one in Pennsylvania. There in Prison there & their names are Clarence Anglin & John William Anglin & I would like to get them brought back to Atlanta Ga. so I can go to see them, they are too far away & I can’t go to see them, & me & their Daddy are getting old & we’re not able to make a trip like that even if we had the money which we don’t have. I would like very much if you would give them a transfer to Atlanta Ga. as we can visit with them once in awhile, as we are about 500 miles from Atlanta, we could go once in awhile.

Mrs. G. R. Anglin

* * *

Ruskin, Fla

Oct 28, 1960

United States Dept of Justice

United States Penitentiary

Leavenworth, Kansas

Dear Sir:

I am writing you in regards to my Son – John William Anglin. I would like to have some information concerning his removal from there to the Penitentiary in Alcatraz California. I know there must be something wrong and I would like very much to hear something about this. I would like to know also about my other son Clarence Anglin. Is he alright? I thank you for your help.

Mrs. Rachel Anglin

Route 10 Box 205

Ruskin, Florida

Alvin Karpis, 325-AZ

Alvin Karpowicz

Karpis in October 1951.

Alvin Karpis, would hold the exclusive distinction of serving the longest single term on Alcatraz: nearly 26 years. Alvin Karpowicz was born in Montreal, Canada in 1908 and his father moved the family to Topeka, Kansas when Alvin was still a young boy. It was an elementary school teacher who decided to shorten his name to simply Alvin Karpis. Later while at Alcatraz, he was tagged by fellow inmates with the nicknames of “Creepy” Karpis and “Old Creepy.”

Karpis lived a quarter of a century in a place where he would never be allowed to walk astray; at Alcatraz, he would never see many of the areas that were only a few yards from his cell. In his memoir published in 1980, Karpis claimed that his first encounter with crime occurred when he stole a gun when he was only ten years old, thus beginning his lengthy crime pursuit during his formative years as a youth. Like many other criminals of his era, Karpis’ first arrest was for illegally hopping trains. He was sentenced to a Florida chain gang, and after his release he was again arrested for robbery. He subsequently escaped from prison and became a fugitive.

Karpis joined the Barker gang after meeting Fred Barker in 1930 at the Kansas State Penitentiary in Lansing. With the bang, he embarked on a long and violent crime spree that consisted of bank robberies, kidnapping, and several murders, including the slaying of three police officers. Karpis had also been one the architects of the famed kidnapping of the Hamm’s Brewery heir William A. Hamm in 1933. Karpis’s vicious crimes earned him the designation as one of America’s most wanted public enemies. He received equal billing as a leader of the Barker-Karpis Gang, which became one of the most formidable criminal gangs of the 1930s.

Fellow convict James “Whitey” Bulger wrote of Karpis: “I never heard anyone ever call Karpis “Old Creepy.” On the Rock they called him Ray. Rumor had it that Blackie Audette was the one who made up the name and Karpis hated him. I never recall seeing Audette in the prison yard, but never looked for him either. Guys didn’t like Blackie and it wasn’t uncommon for cons to turn on guys who worked in the offices.

J. Edgar Hoover

J. Edgar Hoover—who had personally designated Alvin as Public Enemy Number One—initiated an intense pursuit to capture Karpis and his gang. On May 1, 1936 in New Orleans, under Hoover’s personal direction, the FBI descended on Karpis and Fred Hunter, another alumnus of Alcatraz. Hoover was on hand to command the squad of FBI agents who performed the arrest. Karpis would later mock Hoover’s claim that he had been present for the arrest, stating that Hoover was actually nowhere to be seen until Karpis and his accomplice had already been cuffed. Only then did Hoover emerge for the photo opportunities. Karpis would later credit FBI Agent Clarence Hurt with the famed arrest. His capture would signify the end of the gangster-driven public enemy era, and elevated J. Edgar Hoover and the FBI to national prominence for taking back America.

Sentenced to life imprisonment, Karpis was incarcerated at Alcatraz from August 1936 to April 1962. He did, however, enjoy a short absence from Alcatraz during a six-month transfer to USP Leavenworth in 1958. Karpis served his time quietly at Alcatraz, though he was far from considered a model inmate by correctional officers. Former Alcatraz Correctional Officer Alver Bloomquist called Karpis a mild nuisance. Bloomquist described him as an inmate who complained frequently about the conditions and who bickered constantly with fellow inmates. He was known as an obsessive reader and held numerous positions in the Alcatraz industries and a kitchen assignment. It is rumored that when baseball games were broadcasted inside the cellhouse in the late 1950s, Karpis would bellow in laughter when the Hamm’s jingle played during commercial breaks.

He remained at Alcatraz until his transfer to USP McNeil Island in 1962. He was released on parole in 1969 and deported to Canada. He had difficulty obtaining Canadian passport credentials initially, because the well-known underworld physician Joseph Moran removed his fingerprints in 1934.

Karpis would later write two books about his life at Alcatraz, including one bestseller. In 1973, he had acquired enough funds to fulfill his longtime dream of moving to Spain. His life in Spain is largely undocumented, but on August 26, 1979, Karpis was found dead. His death was originally ruled a suicide by authorities (because sleeping pills were found by his body) but the cause was modified later to “death from natural causes.” It was suggested that Karpis had become dependent on drugs and alcohol, which may have influenced his death. Karpis wrote prolifically during his incarceration at Alcatraz.

Karpis in 1962 while an inmate at USP McNeil Island.

* * *

To:

Mrs. Emily Janke

Alcatraz, California

1456 W. Cuyler

July 30, 1942

Chicago, Illinois

Dear Sister:

An hour or so ago the Assoc. Warden came up to my cell and told me to be sure and write a letter to you tonight as you are worried about not hearing from me for so long. Well, kid, it’s a long story but I will try to explain it provided I am permitted to do so.

On April 20th I was informed that the mat shop, where I am working, would be closed due to lack of material, etc., and that I would have to go to the laundry to work, which was agreeable, provided I wasn’t put in a certain Dept. as things were rather unsettled there. It was insisted upon that I work in that Dept. “or else.” I chose the “or else” and when the “or else was over with, on or about May the 7th, I was put in the cell without any privileges except to take a bath once a week, a shave three times a week, and a hair cut once a month and all other privileges taken until I knuckle under and do as I am told naturally my mail privileges were taken right along with my exercise, sunshine, fresh air, reading material, tobacco, personal property, etc., so I had no way of answering your letter. Now as to how long it will be until this situation will be straightened out will be strictly up to the officials for the only thing they can possibly accomplish by keeping me locked up in a cell without fresh air, sunshine or exercise, is possibly a breaking down of my health, and if by being able to do that they can derive any personal satisfaction from it, more power to them. You see Emily when I chose the “or else” I feel as though I paid in full for my refusal even though under the circumstances I considered my refusal un-wholly justified due to existing conditions at that time, so as far as I am concerned I just have no way of knowing when I will be able to write again for I have no intention of going to work down there in view of the fact that I have already paid for my refusal with “or else”. I realize that what I have already written in this letter will come as a shock to you since in my mail to you in the past I have always covered up the more unpleasant things that have occurred since I have been out here, but I for some unexplainable reason find myself unable to go on using such hypocrisy this time. Maybe I should have let you know about these things long ago but I just didn’t care to bother you. There isn’t anything that I am able to do about except explain it to you as I have done on the other side of this paper. Oh I guess I could have done as I have in the past, give you a line of bull as to why I wasn’t writing etc. but it would have been the same old thing over again. Oh I could probably get permission to write by asking for permission every time I intended to write but you can imagine how that works out the first time you get in some scrape it was “or else” so until I am given back my mail privileges by them on their own account why I won’t be writing to anyone for awhile. Now Emily whatever you see fit to do, don’t you dare let the folks know about all this you know how upset they get. After this whenever you want to get information and aren’t getting it why you know you can always get it thru your Senator Brooks or someone like that you know who to see about matters of that kind. I think he is working on the Chicago Tribune. Well I sure have my doubts as to whether you will receive this as the truth sure hurts some people but I have read it over carefully and I am sure there are no military secrets in it so maybe it will pass. Well the above just about covers it. Now once more don’t say nothing to the folks. How is Betty? Tell her I said hello. I received a letter from Father the other day and one from Mother a week or so ago. For some reason or other they allow me to receive mail sent to me. I am getting short of paper, so I may as well close. Now that you understand what is what there isn’t any use in you worrying—I will write to you when my mail privileges are restored, so pay it no mind if you don’t hear from me for a few years.

Alvin Karpowicz, Reg. No. 325-AZ

* * *

AUGUST TWELFTH

1 9 4 2

Mrs. Emily Janke

1456 W. Ruyler Street

Chicago, Illinois

Dear Madam:

Responsive to your letter of August 5, 1942, regarding your brother, Alvin Karpavicz, Reg. No. 325-AZ, I want to tell you at the outset that there is not any person here, certainly not any officer, who is putting any pressure on your brother for any personal reason. Of course, it may be that he may consider that an order in accordance with regulations is pressure, for it sometimes happens that while the officers endeavor to carry out their duties in an impersonal way and without any prejudice, the inmate who is subject to the order and the regulations may view it differently because he is in a different position with different ideas.

As you stated in your letter, your brother seemed to be getting along quite well for a long time, and I was glad to see him make what appeared to be a fair adjustment to his difficult position. The facts with regard to his loss of privileges to which he refers are as follows:

He was working in the Mat Shop and seemed to be getting along quite well until we reached a situation where we ran out of rubber, couldn’t make any more mats for the time being, and were obliged to close the Mat Shop and to transfer the inmates who were working in that shop to the laundry, where we were very busy. Your brother seemed to think that since he was assigned to the Mat Shop that was his place and therefore it was unfair for us to send him to the laundry just because the Mat Shop was closing, and he refused to obey the order or take the assignment in the change of work.

As a fair-minded person, I am sure that you will see the reasonableness of the order, and I am sure you would if you were in my position. I think it would be better for your brother if he accepts the order and goes about the work to which he has been assigned, using what few privileges it is possible for us to grant. Although his privileges have been restricted, he has been advised that he could write to you, and he availed himself of that privilege and probably told you about his trouble in his own way, so that now you have his point of view as well as the facts which I have given in response to your request.

Sincerely,

J. A. JOHNSTON, Warden

* * *

From Alvin Karpowicz No. 325 Sept. 1945

Alcatraz California

To The Warden Alcatraz Island California

Dear Sir:

As the time available for personal interviews is somewhat limited, I thought it best that I explain what I have in mind in form of a letter.

I would like to find out what my chances are, in getting transferred to one of the other institutions by the end of 1946, preferably Leavenworth.

While I am satisfied with this place in most ways my reasons for wanting a transfer, are as follows;

I have been working in the Bakery for over 26 months and I would very much like a chance of doing the same kind of work where modern bakery equipment is extensively used so that when I am eventually deported I would feel confident in being able to get and hold a good paying position in the Baking industry.

My parents and son reside at Topeka Kansas which is about 60 miles from Leavenworth. It is now over nine years since I have seen anyone of my family and as my parents are getting pretty old I think them being able to visit me once a month would be a very nice thing.

By the 26th of July 1948 I will have 10 years served, which would leave me 5 years more to serve before becoming eligible for deportation. I could learn a great deal working 5 years in a large Bakery.

As to my prison record, I can’t honestly say that is any too good except in way of performing well any work that I have undertaken. I have been reported perhaps a dozen times in the nine years that I have been here in the past 3 years. I have been reported only once it is my opinion that when my past conduct in prison is reviewed, due consideration should be given to the fact that where – as almost all the inmates in here had a chance to become accustomed to prison routine and discipline, I was one might say, practically taken right from the freedom of the streets and put in here as I was in Leavenworth only 6 days.

Of course I also realize that the unpleasant notoriety in my case isn’t helpful in this matter but I feel that I should at least inquire as to what chances are or might be in the next year or 18 months.

Naturally I would be highly pleased to receive an encouraging answer to all of this but in the event that my hopes are a bit premature I would still appreciate knowing just where I stand at present. Your advice in this matter would be helpful to me in planning for the future regard of a favorable or an unfavorable answer.

I believe the above just about covers my case at the present time. Thanking you in advance for your consideration in this matter.

Respectfully

Alvin Karpowicz

No. 325

[Handwritten Note] Interviewed. Told him I could not give him any definite date when his application would be acted on but if he made good record it would taken up for consideration before his parole date – J.A.J-3yrs.

* * *

From Alvin Karpowicz No. 325 May 8, 1948

Alcatraz California

To Warden Swope Warden’s Office

Dear Sir:

Not knowing just when you will begin granting interviews, I decided to write this letter hoping that it will serve, at least partially, the same purpose that a personal interview would. As I understand it Paul Ritter is scheduled to be transferred soon. In that event I would like very much to have the job he now has.

I have cooked for the officers mess 3 different times, for the main line twice and for 3 ½ years was in charge of the bake shop. I believe my work record, my conduct for the past 5 years and the monthly work reports will prove satisfactory.

Before asking you for this job I first discussed the matter fully with both Mr. Madigan and Mr. Scanland as I realize that if either one or both considered it ill advised I best not bother asking but as both spoke favorably in regard to the matter I feel that I owe it to myself to try for it.

At the present time I am the printer and also do clerical work for Mr. Scanland. I am serving a life sentence for kidnapping. July 26th I will have in 12 years. I have in my possession a warrant calling for me deportation. I will be eligible for deportation July 26, 1951. I have several detainers on me which I could get lifted without too much effort but haven’t tried as I feel they will be dropped automatically at the proper time.

I have several reasons for wanting that job. The most important one being that, if I could work for you satisfactorily for 2 or 3 years, it would go a long long way in giving the proper Authorities a fair idea as to my future conduct in the event they were to deport me. Another reason is that I like that type of work. I also believe the change would be beneficial to me as I have been inside a long time.

About 3 years ago I asked Warden Johnston about a transfer but I now believe that job means more than a transfer in regards to me getting deported. I believe that the above just about covers it. Hoping that you can and will give this matter favorable consideration.

Respectfully yours

Alvin Karpowicz

[Handwritten Note] told no

* * *

FROM:

Alvin Karpavicz, 325

May 21, 1953

Alcatraz, California

TO:

Mrs. Emily Janke

3644 Diversey, Chicago, Ill.

Dear Sister:

I just received your letter and sure was glad to hear you are all alright, now about Mother, frankly I expected to hear much worse news, even though it is bad enough. Let’s hope she snaps out of it. She is Lucky to have you looking out for her. I am glad that, Clara is acting decently for a change hope she keeps it up. Well Emily I am writing this from S.T.U. I’ve been locked up since Monday Morning, on the flimsiest of pretences. I won’t go into details but locking me up was such obviously apparent act of frustration on an officials part that he looked sheepish himself. Oh well, I knew I would be surely picked as one of the goats, they always need them in these matters. The only thing is, that if this thing ends before the 4th of July it, will surprise me as things are pretty hectic some of the officials seem to be in a trance for as I already told you in a recent letter, the solution lies solely in the hands of the officials, not in our hands. Oh well, I am not going to worry over it as under the circumstances I am making out the best I can, right at present things are a bit rugged but hell kid, I hear that things are tough all over. I don’t believe I will be able to write only when I receive a letter so when you hear from me will depend on you for awhile, this should be over with by 4th of July, at least I hope so for as soon as it is over I will write twice a week again. I am lying on the floor flat on my stomach as I write this, hence the funny hand writing. Say I really hope that you make out alright on what you have coming up in June. I hope it is something real nice for you and Bill, Christ only knows you both deserve a break and I mean a real break. Be sure and let me know how you come out on it. June isn’t so long away Just 10 days or so. Emily you say in your letter not to break up now, don’t worry I have no intention of throwing in the sponge; I am just as determined as I ever was. Don’t think for a minute that a day of reckoning isn’t going to come over all this stuff. The Republicans are pretty busy right now but they will eventually get around to it. Maybe they are like the Demos though, just don’t give a damn what happens out in this place. To tell you the truth I don’t much care myself anymore. No Emily, I meant it about those guitars, etc., if you have any use for such stuff I will send it all to you if you can find use for it, let me know. Well I am about out of paper, don’t worry about this, and just remember I will only be able to write when I hear from you while this is going on so write right away if you want to hear from me once a week or so. Tell Bill Charlene and Mother hello for me. Hoping to hear from you real soon.

Alvin Karpowicz, 325-AZ

* * *

From Alvin Karpowicz March 19, 1957

Alcatraz California

Mr. P. J. Madigan, Warden Cell C-140

Dear Sir:

In the more than 20 years since my arrival here I have occasionally received postal cards from relatives on my approved correspondence list but today Mr. Ringwald informs me, cards that have accumulated in the mail office from my niece down in Miami are not to be given me and that furthermore, I should notify her to cease sending cards.

Mr. Madigan, surely you realize that after all the years I’ve spent in this place there are very few things left to me from which I can derive any pleasure. The cards I occasionally receive from various localities with which I am familiar have always been a great source of pleasure to me and why after twenty years of them, which has resulted in harm to no one, they should now be suddenly prohibited beats me. Naturally I will survive it if this privilege is to be taken from me, just as I out rode the other vindictive petty persecutions shot at me in the past around this place, but I find it hard to believe that you would acquiesce to seeing me deprived of a privilege I have had for 20 years or more, one which I have at no time abused or attempted to take advantage of. In the remove event that I am mistaken tho, then I believe that at the very least, the cards, either should be promptly returned to the sender or else to my sister for after all they were purchased and sent in good faith and the money they cost should not be wasted as the result of a capricious whim on the part of some official connected with this place.

Respectfully yours,

Alvin Karpowicz 325 AZ

Karpis who once ruled as U.S. Public Enemy No. 1, seen in photos relaxing at his home in Montreal, Canada, and shopping for a Valentine’s Day gift just months following his release. His lawyer, James Carty, later said that Karpis dreamed of moving to an exotic place where he could escape his past and live his final years in peace. He was estranged from his son Raymond, who had visited him once at Leavenworth (Raymond died in October 2001), as well as his only grandson, Damon, who died at fifteen. Using money he accumulated from books, interviews, and movie rights to his story, which had been optioned by Harold Hecht (producer of the Birdman of Alcatraz) for the motion picture The Last Public Enemy (which never made it into production), he moved to Torremolinas, on Spain’s Costa del Sol. Karpis, whose final years were quiet, died in August 1979 at the age of seventy-one. He rests in the Cementerio de San Miguel, Málaga, Andalucia.

Elliott Michener, 578-AZ

Elliott Michener

When notorious inmate Roy Gardner wrote in his memoir that, “The very word ‘Alcatraz’ has struck terror into the hearts of the underworld gangsters,” it couldn’t have applied more aptly than to Elliott Michener. But Elliott would also become a man of redemption, proof that Alcatraz didn’t mean the final chapter in one’s life, but rather a chance at a new beginning.

Elliott Michener was an elite class counterfeiter who had landed himself on Alcatraz following a desperate escape attempt from USP Leavenworth. Michener claimed that his fear of a transfer to Alcatraz prompted him to build a makeshift weapon (a homemade handgun) to aid in his escape. His inmate file contained the following excerpts from an interview transcript conducted by Associate Warden Cecil Shuttleworth, who had previously served as associate warden at Alcatraz:

Q: What was your fear of Alcatraz that was so great that you would have been willing to almost take your own life in preference to being transferred there? What is there about Alcatraz that you fear so much? I can show you letters from Warden Johnston of ten days ago in which he listed 12 men for transfer back here from Alcatraz and enclosed copies from men who preferred to stay there. Have you ever talked to any of the men from Alcatraz?

A: What I heard from Alcatraz has been unpleasant. I still believe it is like Wisconsin State Prison. I done time there. I do not want to do no time like I done in Waupun and thought it was like it was there.

Q: The silent system at Alcatraz is in the cellhouse. All men are in single cells and all men prefer to read and write and do not make a lot of noise in their cells, and do not want to be disturbed. Do you prefer to cell alone?

A: Yes.

Q: The only other place there is silence is in the Dining Room. You cannot hold a conversation in the Dining Room, but you can ask somebody to pass you something. At work they talk to each other and when in the yard they are allowed to talk. Alcatraz is one of the cleanest and most sanitary places in the United States and one of the most orderly run prisons.

A: Many attempts of escape have been made with something that looks like a real gun that cannot be fired and there have been some successful escapes. The now deceased (John) Dillinger made his escape with a wooden gun.

Q: When did you think up this idea, how long have you been working on this idea?

A: As soon as I thought I was going to Alcatraz.

Michener landed on Alcatraz in July 1941. As one of his first work assignments, he was assigned the mundane task of cleaning debris and retrieving the handballs that were hit over the yard wall. Michener would later admit that in his early years at Alcatraz, he was preoccupied with the idea of escaping. But his dreary work combing the terrain would have him stumble upon a lucky break. Michener came across a set of keys that had been dropped by a correctional officer. Rather than use the keys to leverage a means of escape, he returned the keys to the prison staff. It was an act that changed the course of his life and helped build a sense of trust, one that was rarely extended to inmates serving time on the Rock.

Warden Swope

Mrs. Swope

His supervising officer recommended him to Warden Swope that he work as a passman. It was considered premium work assignment that came with inherit perks that were not often shared by general population inmates; in fact, convicts who worked as passmen were often frowned upon and distrusted by other inmates. The assignment was an earned status; a person assisted the Warden and his wife inside their home, and had duties ranging from basic housekeeping and cooking to complex maintenance duties.

Michener remembered: “It was really quite a change from working inside of the prison. Mrs. Swope herself was very nice. I saw the newspapers, and they had a radio, and you had comfortable living quarters. Of course we went in at night, but we had rest quarters downstairs. It was almost like being back on the outside for a little while.”

“Mrs. Swope was really a wonderful person. We were both kind of interested in horse racing, and she’d bring the morning paper and we’d both look over the horses. I had a lot of gardens around here, and I grew a lot of flowers, and when she had guests, she would bring them up a box of flowers and they’d leave a tip for me; they wouldn’t give it to me, but they’d leave it with Mr. Swope and she’d take the money and use it to bet on the horses, and then say ‘don’t you ever tell the warden.” Cooked and served breakfast, made the beds and did general housework and then would do some gardening. I’d keep everything ship shape. I enjoyed it... The men who worked down in the laundry, I pitied them, because that was pure drudgery.”

One of Michener’s most enjoyable duties in the warden’s home was grinding fresh coffee every morning. Warden Swope loved Folgers Coffee (a company founded in San Francisco with a local outlet with fresh beans) and he gave Michener the task of grinding fresh coffee beans each morning and to serve fresh coffee throughout the day.

One of Michener’s most special memories took place on his 42nd birthday. The warden had business on the mainland and Michener was given a gift he could never forget. Mrs. Swope served him a cup of coffee and gave him the entire morning off. He sat in the parlor room enjoying the beautiful vistas of the San Francisco skyline, sipping coffee, and listening to the radio. For lunch, Mrs. Swope served crackers and various cheeses, along with ice cream and cake. “That gesture was, well, something very special... I’d been in prison for about 15 or 16-years by that time, and here I was sitting in the warden’s house, eating cake, reading magazines and the paper. Can you imagine that? A real taste of freedom ... I don’t think anyone else ever got that... very special memory... I owe so much to her...”

Michener developed a passion for gardening, and was believed to have introduced many botanical varieties to Alcatraz. He experimented and—without any formal education other reading magazines and seed packages—he prospered through pure trial and error. He spent years on the island’s west side creating cottage-style gardens, building a greenhouse, and was almost solely responsible for changing the face of the entire landscape. He was later quoted as saying:

“The hillside provided a refuge from disturbances of the prison, the work a release, and it became an obsession. This one thing I would do well ... If we are all our own jailers, and prisoners of our traits, then I am grateful for my introduction to the spade and trowel, the seed and the spray can. They have given me a lasting interest in creativity.”

Michener was also close friends with John Giles, who would later become famous for a failed escape attempt where he assembled an army uniform over a ten year period and gain entrance onto a military boat which performed a laundry exchange. He was quickly noticed missing and captured.

Michener was released from prison in 1952 and successfully integrated back into society. As illustrated in his letters following his release, he maintained a close affinity with Warden Swope and his wife through frequent correspondence. Michener died in Los Angeles in May 1997. He was 90 years old.

* * *

From: Elliott Michener Aug. 14, 1939

#55506

To James A. Bennett Leavenworth Penitentiary

Superintendent of Prisons

Dear Sir:

This is a request that you investigate and change some of the unhealthful conditions existing here.

There are, in “C” cell-house here, a number of long-timers awaiting transfer to other penitentiaries. They have broken no rules, and yet are subject to harsher discipline than men in the punishment gang. The latter, for instance, are allowed to go out to work every day; but long-timers like myself are kept locked up, two men to a stuffy cell, for twenty-three hours a day.

The cells are hot, stuffy, and crawling with bedbugs and cockroaches. The narrow space beside the double-deck bunks is not wide enough to walk in. The result is that we must spend our days lying on our bunks, dull-minded and dispirited, and wishing we had a little exercise. At present, the only “exercise” we get is at noon, when we are turned out for a short period in the cell corridor, which is then too crowded for walking.

I have been here for a little more than a month, and have felt half-sick from want of exercise every day of the time. The doctor tells me I need more ventilation-fresh air.

I understand that I am slated for Alcatraz. I do not mind that so much – there, we will at least be given something to do; what I and all the other men awaiting transfer hate, is the five or six months we must lie idle in our cells.

Is there any reason why we couldn’t be given an hour or two of active physical exercise in the fresh air every day? Lord knows there are enough guards to watch us! Or is there any reason why those of us who wish it could not be given a chance to go out and do manual labor with the “punishment” gang? The punishment gang is closely watched.

My outside record may be bad but my inside one is excellent. During the last three-and-a-half years I have been editor of the prison magazine and school teacher at Waupun, Wisconsin prison (which I come direct). Having been trusted with this work there, when I had twice as much time as I have now, it would seem that I could be safely trusted to work under supervision here, until the time of my transfer. Cannot something be arranged?

Respectfully,

Elliott Michener

* * *

From Elliott Michener Feb. 26, 1951

55506

To Warden E. B. Swope

Dear Sir:

A couple of days ago I received a slip from the Parole Board saying that my application had been denied.

As you may recall, I wrote to Mr. Bennett a few months ago to the effect that I’d prefer to stay at Alcatraz unless, in the event I should transfer here and be denied parole. I could then be sent to a minimum security institution in order that I might have a chance, as Franseen had at Sandstone, to show dependability and after a couple of years earn a parole. Mr. Bennett didn’t answer so I can’t know what his attitude is. The outlook seems bleak, however, and after thinking the problem over for a couple of days I believe that my best and only practical course is to get back to Alcatraz.

You will understand, I think, that after sixteen years in prison I just haven’t the stomach for eight more of the discipline and close confinement that are standard here. At Alcatraz I could at least grow Bell roses and delpheniums seven days a week and enjoy considerable freedom and trust, and in general make the best of things. I haven’t the fortitude for a long and weary pull here, with repeated disappointments regarding parole. I’d much rather forget the whole thing and content myself with what privileges as can be had there, even if they must be earned all over again. Of course, prisoners are usually not returned there except for cause, and that is the reason for this letter. Will you help me in this, please? A letter of explanation from you to Mr. Bennett would do more to help me get back than would anything else. I’d be very grateful.

Mr. Madigan would be glad to know that Franseen is doing very well and was allowed to make a plane trip to Los Angeles to visit old friends there. The only news I have to report of myself is that I’ve been assigned to the shoe factory.

Will you give my respects to Mrs. Swope, please, and to Wesley, and thank the Magruders for their cheerful card at Christmas?

Respectfully,

Elliott W. Michener

#55506

From E. Michener Jan. 10, 1952

55506

To Warden E. B. Swope

Dear Mr. Swope –

The seven (or seventeen) lean years are past, and there are, it seems, some fat ones ahead. The Board has just granted me a parole and I’m due to go out within a week or so. Mr. Charles Ward, of Brown & Bigelow, has assured me a job as clerk at the St. Paul plant, at a starting wage of $200 a month, and indicated that later I may have a choice of occupation. Needless to say, I’m as happy as Pat is when he sees you coming in the front door!

This letter is to thank you for the help and consideration which you and Mrs. Swope have given me. I enjoyed working for you, was grateful for the trust you showed, and appreciate your efforts on my behalf. You may be sure that I’ll do nothing to make you regret it.

If you have time would you tell me how the orchids came out? And would you tell my friend Giles of my good fortune and that I wish him good cheer? Thank you.

With respect to you and your family,

Elliott W. Michener

#55506

(General Delivery, St. Paul)

January 15, 1952

Elliott W. Michener

PMB 55506

Leavenworth, Kansas

This will acknowledge your letter of January 10, 1952, and we are quite pleased with the fact that the Parole Board has seen fit to grant you parole, and that Mr. Charles Ward of Brown and Bigelow, has assured you a position as Clerk in the St. Paul Plant with a starting wage of $200.00 with every indication of advancement. I understand that he has, in times past, been of material assistance to other men who have been paroled or discharged from prison, and feel quite sure he will give you every consideration.

I, also, am convinced that you will certainly adjust yourself to conditions on the outside and be successful in fitting yourself back into a position in society, which will bring you a great deal of joy and pleasure in the future.

With reference to the orchids, these plants are still growing, but very slowly. A great many of them perished along the way, however, there will be plenty perhaps in the next four to five years.

With reference to Giles, he has been transferred to McNeil Island, and I am sure would have been very happy to hear about your good fortune.

Again, hoping for your every success.

Sincerely,

E. B. SWOPE

Warden

* * *

January 24, 1952

Mr. Elliott Michener

c/o Mr. C. Buckley

Probation Officer

Federal Building

St. Paul, Minn.

My dear Michener:

This will acknowledge recent of your recent letter. We are all happy for you and there is no question of doubt in my mind but what you will make good. Do not become distressed when it is necessary for you to meet adversities. The only thing that will ever get you into difficulty is your temper and acting on the impulse of the moment. We all must go through life and meet many disappointments. I am sure you will overcome all of the many trying situations that you will be confronted with.

It certainly was a good thing that you worked in Industries and earned the $250.00 price to your parole from Leavenworth. I am so happy they gave you a nice suit of clothes which made you feel you were presentable.

Mr. Ward will no doubt give you every opportunity to make good. The Probation Officer in that District is a very capable man and he has a very excellent organization. Don’t hesitate to discuss your trouble with him as I am sure he will help you.

The value of the dollar unquestionably has decreased and you will find that it is a little more difficult to stretch it than it was seventeen years ago.

It is certainly encouraging to be informed that Franzeen is making good. He has been out quite a little while now and we all have a feeling he will conduct himself in the future as he has in the past, that is, since his release. It is also encouraging to know that you will, no doubt, be as proud of your conduct as we will be. Anything we might have done for you while you were committed to this institution was done because you earned the right to our confidence by your conduct and application and we are quite sure that our confidence was not misplaced and the proof of that is you earned the parole and that the board could see you were determined to prove your eligibility for release.

I hope you will not hesitate to write to me whenever you feel in the mood to do so. If there is anything we can do to assist you in your adjustment on the outside, please do not hesitate to call upon us. As I told you in the previous letter, the plants are all doing fairly well, although it is quite a chore to take care of them, as very few people have the interest that you had in the flowers and garden.

Looking forward to your continued success.

Sincerely,

E. B. SWOPE

Warden

* * *

August 21, 1952

Dear Mr. Swope –

Thought you might be interested in the enclosed clipping....

Dick and I are getting along well and for the first time I’m learning how much better one can do living honestly than by, say, counterfeiting! We have cars & fat bank accounts; and have two patents (one for a soap dispenser that fits into packages) which Brown & Bigelow is going to manufacturer and pay us royalties on.

And we have a favor to ask: will you send us a bush of our old ‘gardener’ rose? It is not ‘Mrs. Charles Bell’ as the rosarian in Berkeley told Mrs. Swope. We have ordered ‘Mrs. Charles Bell’ and it is considerably different from, and inferior to, the ‘Gardener.’ We’d like very much to have one, or even cuttings from one, and have no idea of where else to get one. In return we’d be glad to send you any named variety you’d like. Do you have ‘Peace’? Good luck to you and your family.

Respectfully,

Elliott W. Michener

* * *

September 2, 1952

My dear Michener:

We were very happy to hear from you and appreciate your sending us the clipping. Everyone is indeed gratified to know that you and Dick are getting along so well. Mr. Ward must be a fine person to give you boys the opportunity he has to readjust yourselves.

That seems to be some car you are driving and of course I know you feel very happy over the fact that you have freedom of action and it certainly must give you a great deal of pleasure to own an automobile.

Your patents must be good or Mr. Ward wouldn’t handle them. I do hope you make a lot of money out of them. Brown and Bigelow are a big outfit and can be of lot of help in selling your soap dispensers, etc.

I would be very happy to do something about sending you the rose bush but we just can’t identify it. As you know, Wesley when he purchased a house, we gave him some of the plants and it might be the rose you want was given to him. I see you are still interested in flowers – this is commendable.

It is indeed a great deal of satisfaction to all of us to know you are doing so well.

With kindest regards.

Sincerely,

E. B. SWOPE

* * *

THE RYAN HOTEL

SIXTH AND ROBERT

SAINT PAUL 1

RECEIVED

JAN 24 8:52 AM, ‘52

U.S. PENITENTIARY

ALCATRAZ, CALIFORNIA

Dear Mr. Swope –

Just a note to let you know that I’m out! Everything worked out for the best – during the year in Leavenworth I earned about $250, and that comes in handy now. Furthermore I got a very nice gray suit and overcoat, and look quite presentable. The world doesn’t seem to have changed so very much during the last 17 years, except that a dollar sizzles out as fast as a drop of water on a hot stove. And the girls look prettier.

Parole is not going to be hard to keep. The probation officers here have made it plain that they’re on my side and will give me all possible help provided I just play fair. My boss, of course, is to be Mr. Charles Ward. He’s at his Arizona ranch now but will be back here in a few days and I’ll then learn definitely where I’m to work – in the big plant, or out on one of his farms.

Franseen is working in Mr. Ward’s home, and has about the same work there (except for cooking) that I had with you. He’s very happy, well-liked and trusted, and the proud possessor of a new Oldsmobile. You may put it down on the record that he’s one Alcatraz man who has made good – and that I’m going to be another.

Much of my good fortune I owe to you – first for giving me the chance to work at your home (when it must have seemed to most of the officials there a risky thing to do), and later for your active help in getting me a transfer and a parole. I know now that your recommendations carried the day. I’m grateful.

Please give my regards to Mrs. Swope.

Respectfully,

E. Michener

c/o Mr. C. Buckley

Probation Officer

Fed. Bldg., St. Paul

* * *

11601 Brockway St.

El Monte, Calif.

June 19, 1954

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Swope –

This letter has a dual purpose. The first is just to let you know that I was married over in Yuma about five weeks ago, and that we’re living in El Monte. Dick Franseen was also married, back in Hudson, Wisc. Mr. & Mrs. Ward, and the elite of Hudson, attended their wedding and reception. Both the Franseens and the Micheners got presents from the Wards – a check apiece for $1000.00, and the most gorgeous sterling 4-piece coffee services. My wife and I are very happy and look ahead to happy years.

The second purpose of this letter is to ask a favor that may be a bit presumptuous. Dr. Newton of Hudson is in San Francisco for the A.M.A. convention, and would like more than anything to see Alcatraz. He has been mayor of Hudson for fourteen years and is a close friend of the Wards. He is also the doctor for whom my wife, Lucille, worked as receptionist, and has of course heard all about the Rock and Warden & Mrs. Swope. If you can manage it, would you extend him an invitation to see the Island? He is staying at the Hotel Shaw, or could be reached through his son George F. Newton, 131 Waltham Rd., Concord.

It continually amazes me that so many good things can have happened, beginning with the day when you gave me a job at the house. I have a fine job, financial security, a nice home and a lovely wife. We even have an invitation out to dinner with the Wards next week, when they will be in Los Angeles. Ain’t that sumpin!?

Please give my respects to the Schroeders, etc., and all of your friends who were so kind to me, and my very best wishes for you and Wes and Family.

Respectfully,

Mickey

* * *

June 24, 1954

My dear Michener:

This will acknowledge your letter of June 19, 1954, and we are so happy to hear that you are now married. We certainly wish the utmost happiness to both of you. I am sure you must have married a very lovely girl, and of course we know you will make her a good husband. Also, thanks for the information that Dick Franzeen is married and living in Hudson, Wisconsin.

Mr. and Mrs. Ward must, indeed, be fine people to have treated both of you boys so elegantly. A check for $1000.00 – just think of how nice it is to have this next egg to start your married life on. They are certainly wonderful people and we are so happy for you both.

With reference to Dr. Newton of Hudson. I am extremely sorry that we are unable to comply with your wishes, but we had so many Doctors in town during the American Medical Association Convention, and are visiting arrangements, as you know, are so that only a few can go through the institution, that it was necessary for us to turn down a great number. In fact only this morning our Chief Medical Officer wanted to bring four Doctors over today and we had to turn him down. Will you please advise your good doctor if he is ever in San Francisco again to please drop us a line and we will try to take care of him. I am awfully sorry we can’t do it at this time.

Sincerely,

E. B. SWOPE

W a r d e n

* * *

RECEIVED

SEP 10 1957

CRESCENT Engineering & Research Co.

5440 North Peck Road

El Monte, California

TELEPHONE:

Gilbert 4-0528

Mr. J. V. Bennett

Director of U. S. Prisons

Room 554, HOLC Bldg.

Washington 25, DC

Dear Mr. Bennett:

As you may know, both John D. Giles and I are now employed as technical writers. Giles has just finished a two-year job with American Pipe and Steel, working with Air Force refueling systems. He is largely concerned with hydraulics. My work has so far been with the above company, which designs and manufacturers transducers and other electronic sensing devices, and carrier systems.

To progress as technical writers, we have found, and to get the pay checks that go with important work, it is often essential to have security clearance. Do you know of any way or avenue which we could use to get this clearance? Have any ex-convicts that you know of been able to get clearance?

My job is secure, but has its limitations. The work which Giles has now, however, seems somewhat temporary.

We are both doing well, and feel a great sense of gratitude for the help which you and other prison officials have given us.

Respectfully,

/S/ Elliott W. Michener

Elliott Michener

Rufus Franklin, 335-AZ

In the dark cloak and dagger underworld of Alcatraz, Rufus “Whitey” Franklin held a high-ranking status within the inmate population. This was for his role in the vicious and violent murder of senior Correctional Officer Royal Cline. Franklin would spend the longest term in a closed front solitary cell of any inmate in the history of Alcatraz.

Alcatraz Officer Royal Cline was brutally murdered by Thomas Limerick during an escape attempt. In his final moment of bravery, Cline refused to aid the escapees, and subsequently was killed.

Thomas Robert Limerick

Death mask of slain guard R. C. Cline; the hammers used in his murder; and other tools found in the Model Industries building that were used in the escape attempt.

On May 23, 1938, inmates Thomas Robert Limerick, James Lucus, and Rufus Franklin executed a desperate plan to escape using a few simple tools coupled with deadly force to break out of the prison industries. The escape would rank as one of the bloodiest chapters in Alcatraz history (rivaled only by the Battle of Alcatraz in 46’). It resulted in the tragic death of both a well-liked officer and the shooting death of one of the inmate escapees. Franklin would suffer severe consequences for his role in the officer’s murder and would be made an example to other inmates.

While at work in the woodworking shop in the Model Industries building, the inmates attacked senior Correctional Officer Royal Cline, who was patrolling the floor unarmed. The three men rushed the unarmed officer using a hammer and other blunt objects with brutal force, delivering fatal wounds. The three inmates went out of a window and crawled up onto the roof after cutting through barbwire in an attempt to disarm the correctional officer positioned in the Model Industries building tower and secure his weapons. While locked in the tower behind shatterproof glass, the inmates—in what was later described by the officer as an all out suicide charge—stormed the tower from various angles. They hurled heavy metal objects—including hammers, drill chucks, and wrenches—against the shatterproof glass windows. The reinforced glass held up remarkably against the barrage and only one heavy metal fragment managed to break through the glass. The officer was hit. The officer first fired warning shots, then began to fire at the inmates with the intent to kill. Limerick received a bullet wound to the head, and Franklin suffered moderate wounds from a gunshot. This left him completely immobilized lying on barbed wire. Limerick died later that evening in the prison hospital, while Cline died the following day at the Marine Hospital from the wounds inflicted by the convicts.

Officer Royal Cline was only 36 years old at the time of his death. His wife Etta remained faithfully at his side in the hospital until he succumbed to his injuries. Fellow correctional officers were profoundly affected by Cline’s death, which was especially sobering to the island’s families since Cline left behind four young children. His death would emphasize the reality that convicts would commit murder in trade for potential freedom.

The trial of Franklin and Lucas lasted three weeks. It was an emotional process, due to the brutal circumstances of Cline’s murder. The jury was forced to examine the grisly weapons used in the crime. They were shown graphic photos of the blood trail left behind when the body was dragged, the hammer that delivered the fatal blows, and the vivid death mask that showed the viciousness of the attack. These factors contributed to the jury’s quick decision. Franklin and Lucas were convicted of first degree murder, and both received life sentences for Cline’s death.

Franklin, who had been found with the bloodied hammer used in Cline’s killing, would be sentenced to serve nearly fourteen years in a closed front solitary confinement cell in Block D. He would spend the longest term in a closed front solitary cell served by any inmate housed at Alcatraz. Nevertheless, Franklin was eventually extended a few special privileges. After a long period, he was allowed to keep the door front open and to enjoy a non-restricted diet. His long-term isolation status made him an underground hero among his fellow inmates. Even while being held in the most controlled cell row, he was able to communicate with others in the general population via orderlies, and thus to obtain contraband.

Franklin was released back into the general population in 1952. Because he refused to participate in a culinary strike that lasted from March 18th until April 4th, Franklin was forced back into the Treatment Unit for protection from the hostility of other inmates. He was allowed to continue work and was permanently returned to the general population on February 12, 1954. Records show that Franklin readjusted easily to the normal prison routine. He increased his reading habits and was noted to take special interest in spiritual and philosophical subjects. Franklin gradually became more trusted by the custodial staff, and was later awarded a privileged position in the prison’s hospital. He was trained as an X-Ray technician and later qualified as a surgical assistant. He was even allowed to prepare and handle the surgical instruments during operations.

After spending twenty years at Alcatraz, Franklin was allowed to transfer back to USP Leavenworth for a brief ten-month stay, and then to USP Atlanta to be closer to his family. In one letter written in August 1958, Franklin boasted about the train ride through New Mexico and Arizona in a Pullman car, and of the emotion of seeing life outside of prison for the first time since the murder trial of Royal Cline. He wrote frequently to Warden Madigan and other friends at Alcatraz, keeping them up-to-date on his progress. Madigan seemed to reflect pleasantly on Franklin’s progress.

Franklin would spend nearly his entire life behind bars. He was finally paroled on October 29, 1974, and died of lung cancer (as indicated on his death certificate) only a short time later on May 27, 1975 in Dayton, Ohio at 59 years of age. He was living with his sister Ruby Farrow at the time of his death, and was said to have enjoyed cooking every morning, and riding the bus into the city everyday to savor his freedom. He is buried at the Willow View Cemetery in Dayton, Ohio, with a simple gravesite marker.

His letters and writings reflect a life turning full circle.

* * *

From Rufus Franklin August 9, 1959

Atlanta, Ga.

To Warden Paul J. Madigan

Dear Warden:

I am happy, sir, to tell you that I am here in Atlanta. It has been wonderful being here close to home and being able to have visits with the family and to get acquainted with them again. I told them all about you and they are as grateful as I to you for making it possible for me to be together again.

It has been an uplifting experience sir, and I can’t describe the happiness we have felt at being reunited again. I was not quite prepared for the impact of meeting all my brothers’ and sisters’ children all of whom I had never met – they having been born since my incarceration, but it was all pretty wonderful and it seemed as though we had known each other all the time!

I was in Leavenworth a little more than ten months before I was transferred here the first of June. I have been trying to find time to write to you ever since I have been here, but there has been so much happening that I have just now been able to settle down and write to you.

I am working in the Hospital here for Dr. Pirkle, who is a very good friend of Mr. Cain. He is a fine man and it is a pleasure to be able to work for him.

All the officials here have been very good to me. They have been most helpful in any way they could be.

I feel, sir, that it might not be too much longer until I shall be paroled. I plan to apply in November. I am praying and hoping with all my heart that the Parole Board let me go home to the finest and best family any man could ever wish for.

I know I shall never violate another law. The only thing I have now is to go out and be a good, respectful, and loyal citizen and try to erase the black name I have placed on our family name. I feel a deep shame when I think of the pain I have caused them, and I intend to make it up to them and make them feel proud of me.

Please give my regards to Captain Rychner, and God bless you, sir, and all your family.

I will write you again when I hear from the Parole Board.

Most sincerely,

Rufus Franklin - #48531

October 15, 1959

* * *

Rufus Franklin (left) and James Lucas (right) during their highly publicized court appearances. Both inmates were convicted of first degree murder for their role in Officer Cline’s death.

Paul J. Madigan served as warden from 1955 until 1961.

Mr. Rufus Franklin

U.S. Penitentiary

Atlanta, Georgia

Dear Rufus:

Thank you for your letter of August 9, 1959. It was a pleasure to hear from you and I know it means a great deal to you to be in Atlanta so you can receive visits from your family.

You are in a good department and your training here at Alcatraz will be helpful to you in hospital work. No doubt the Atlanta hospital is a large operation.

It has been a long time since you first came to Alcatraz and you have been through many difficult years and trials. You were a young man when you first came to us and as many young men you possessed the fire that got you into difficulty. You grew out of those years and by application improved your education and work habits. It was not easy for you since there were many pressures brought to bear that made it most difficult for you to conduct yourself as you wished to do. At any rate you accomplished what you set your mind to do and are now in a position to accomplish still more.

We hope you continue to get along well and take advantage of the many opportunities available for increased knowledge. You have learned to accept reverses gracefully and you can be a strong force in Atlanta for proper conduct and living.

I appreciate your remembering me and hope the future brings you the happiness you have missed for many years.

Sincerely,

P. J. MADIGAN

W a r d e n

* * *

Rufus Franklin – 48531-131

Jan. 9, 1974

Dear Brother,

Rec. your letter to-day sure was glad to hear from you. Hope you are doing fine, hoping you like being in Atlanta better.

I can line you up on a job; it will be a good job, with pretty good pay. I know the guy well. I want you to keep me posted on any-thing I can do as far as helping you. Are you aloud any visitors, if so let me know the day.

If I send you money will you be allowed to have it?

For me and the family just fine. Guess I will close for now & this is the mail.

Ans. soon

Love,

C. S. Franklin

Route 2, Box 60

Munford, AL 36258

* * *

1974

Dear Mr. Brown:

I would like to be considered for a job on the Work Release Program.

In view of my lengthy incarceration, I feel sure that such a job would be most beneficial to me in several respects. It would enable me to meet and get acquainted with the public and I feel that I am in need of this. I’m sure this will be invaluable in my transition from prison life to freedom.

I am most anxious, sir, to adjust myself as much as possible prior to my release October 29, 1974 so that I can be prepared to assume a useful niche in society with a minimum adjustment.

I am very determined that no action of mine, before or after release, will ever put my parole in jeopardy. I am going to enjoy what years I have left in peace.

I would be most grateful for a chance to work on the Work Release Program not only for the above reason but also for the reason it would enable me to save a few hundred dollars so that I won’t be broke upon my release.

Sincerely,

Rufus Franklin

#48531-131

* * *

Franklin in 1956.

Franklin was buried in May 1975 at the Willow View Cemetery in Dayton, Ohio.

August 25, 1974

Dear Mr. Brown:

Sir, I would like to submit another Parole Plan.

After long consideration, I have come to the conclusion that my best parole bet is to go to Dayton, Ohio to live with my sister.

The employment situation around aviation is not good at this time and I can foresee that I am going to have difficulty finding work there.

Employment in Dayton is much better and my two sisters there are most anxious and willing to help me and they will submit a job to the Probation Officer just as soon as it is requested.

My sister, with whom I will be residing is: Mrs. Ruby Farrow, 172 Olive Rd. Dayton, Ohio 45427.

My sisters and I have always been very close and they both want me to come to Dayton.

You might have noticed in my file that I submitted a parole plan in 1959 when I originally applied for parole for Dayton.

At that time my sister had me a job lined up in a hospital there. Of course, that same job might not still be available, but my sister assured me today on the phone that a job would be no problem.

So, sir, I would be most grateful if you will send a request to the Probation Officer in Dayton asking him to contact my sister for a plan.

Sincerely,

Rufus Franklin

48531-131

Dorm. E

Inmate Petition

This letter to the US Attorney General was smuggled off Alcatraz. It requested that inmates be allowed to read newspapers to keep up with current events. This letter—considered as contraband— was signed by numerous famous inmates at Alcatraz, but it did not reach its intended destination. A mail handler in Sacramento, California, found the letter and turned it over to the authorities.

Hon. Frank Murphy,

U.S. Attorney General

Dept of Justice Bldg

Washington D.C.

Sir:

We the undersigned respectfully submit this petition for the purpose of obtaining your approval in granting we inmates the privilege of subscribing for the Nation’s newspapers.

We do believe that if an unbiased analysis is made with a view of determining the amount of good contributed by a newspaper as compared with the theoretical harm that is alleged both from the Institution’s point of view as well as the inmates a good deal of constructive good is to be concluded.

We do further believe that at this time World History is being written and destiny molded in a manner vital to the Nation as well as to the individual.

Heretofore we have been given to understand that we inmates have been denied access to the newspapers because of the crime news contained therein.

Incredible tho it may sound crime news to a man in this Institution is of less interest than it is to the man on the street.

There are at present in this Institution men whose Homelands, which are now the scene of the tragedy taking place in Europe and it so follows that it is a natural desire to wish to be informed of the events there taking place the same as if your Country or Home State were to be invaded although we hope that the latter will never occur.

We have it is true, weekly newsmagazines but it can be readily seen these are of necessity limited in scope, accuracy and detail, it is also obvious that mail facilities are unable to cope with the present situation.

There are circulating in this Country many conservative newspapers of unimpeachable character many of which you are no doubt personally acquainted with and can vouch for as to their integrity and lack of sensationalism.

Doubtless these same newspapers assist you in your daily life and if contact with these newspapers were to be severed their value would be apparent.

The healthy minded person enjoys keeping pace with progress in the worlds of National and Foreign affairs with science and invention, history and civic life, industries and world markets, sports and modern trends to mention a few of the educational features to be found in the everyday newspaper.

We inmates regret that we have no other means to employ in making this contact with you and wish to assure you that this petition will not be the forerunner of future attempts to petition your office with requests of this nature.

We also wish to assure you that we will deeply appreciate any consideration you may show us in regard to this request and remain

Respectfully yours,

/s/

Frank Weatherman, 1576-AZ

“Alcatraz was never no good for nobody.”

- Frank Weatherman, 1963

Frank C. Weatherman, AZ-1576, would gain widespread notoriety as the last inmate to be issued a register number on Alcatraz, and additionally, as one of the final inmates to depart on the day of the prison’s closure. Weatherman, who was serving time for armed robbery from a conviction in August 1960, was only 28 years old when he boarded the prison launch, destined for transfer to USP Atlanta from Alcatraz on March 21, 1963.

Originally from Alaska, Weatherman stated that the attention he received as the last inmate from Alcatraz placed him under considerable strain. One of the final reports in Weatherman’s file indicated that he had alleged that the never-ending barrage of questions from inmates and staff members had contributed to a withdrawn and reclusive state, much of which he would endure for the remaining days of his incarceration.

A letter written just three months following the closure of Alcatraz is a fitting bookend to the story of America’s most famous prison. Like so many other inmates who served time on the Rock, Weatherman was desperate to escape the conditions of his confinement. Weatherman was finally paroled from prison in September 1966, but continued to find himself at odds with the law. He died in California in January 1999 at 64 years old.

* * *

From Mr. Frank C. Weatherman June 19, 1963

To Mr. F. T. Wilkerson Washington 25, D.C.

Dear Sir:

I am writing in regard to the difficulty I am having in seeking a job in the “Prison Industry” that will suit my medical conditions.

First I shall explain to you from the start to finish why I am being given a hard time. When I first arrived at this institution and being the last man to leave “Alcatraz” my nerves were on edge because I was confronted by so many people and ask so many questions as though I was a freak of some kind instead of a prisoner. This was my main reason for refusing work in Industry before the “Committee” in my first appearance.

They told me it would be six months before I could have another chance to get into the factory.

After refusing an assignment in industry and reconsidering my action I called on my “Case Worker” two weeks later to seek another chance to be placed on the list for employment.

This was done and I made my appearance before the committee for the second time. I explained to said “Committee” that I’m a medical case to be placed on light duty by the “Doctor’s” order. I have to work while it’s cool and a job where I can sit down. I am allergic to excessive sweating and I can’t lift anything heavy. They told me that the doctor would have to verify all of this, in which he did. The doctor sent a memorandum to the supt. of industry, Mr. Crowder. In turn Mr. Crowder sent it to the warden, “Mr. Herritage.”

Mr. Herritage suggested that I be given a job change to something more suitable for my condition. This all took one week to check out and in the mean time I worked in the weave shed regular. I was taken out of the weave shed and placed in spin one where the heat is over 85º everyday. Aside from the heat I have to do a lot of walking since I’m employed as a sweeper.

One more thing I can’t understand is why Mr. Crowder lied to me. He said there were no openings in any place but the card room and every week they put men in all the other Industry’s that have no medical condition. Sir, this job I have at present is definitely unbearable to my medical handicap.

Mr. Wilkerson, when I was at McNeal Island, my work record was very good and it goes to show that I am very will to work.

I went to see Captain Farr on the 7th of June and he also said that he could understand my condition and that adjustments should be made and he said he would talk to Mr. Crowder about it. Mr. Wilkerson I have not heard anything from the Captain or Mr. Crowder. Mr. Wilkerson you told me to write you if I had some problems at this institution, well this is the only one that has come up. I like this institution and want to stay here, you told all of us that we would be treated as all the others and that is all we can ask. Thanking you in advance for any consideration you may give me.

Sincerely yours

Frank C. Weatherman

#86238

* * *

Epilogue

The horizon leans forward, offering you space to place new steps of change.

-Maya Angelou

Correctional Officer Keith Dennison standing guard inside the main cellhouse corridor on the day the prison closed.

The silhouette of an officer standing inside D Block holding a calendar symbolizing the last day of operation.

Images of the last group of inmates being led down “Broadway” on the day the prison was closed down.

Inmates filing onto the prison launch for their final departure from Alcatraz on March 21, 1963. Frank Weatherman, who was assigned the last register number (1576-AZ) when he arrived in December of 1962, would also be the last inmate to walk down the gangway and leave Alcatraz on the day it closed.

By 1962, Alcatraz was one of the most expensive facilities in the federal prison system, and officials finally accepted that Alcatraz had outlived its usefulness.

But even as early as 1949, Attorney General Tom C. Clark had informed Congress that closing Alcatraz was under consideration. At that time, Alcatraz cost $8.00 a day per inmate, while at other federal institutions inmate costs averaged only $3.00 a day. By 1959, the per day cost at Alcatraz had risen to more than $10, while parallel costs at other institutions remained close to the $3 rate.

Alcatraz continued to fall under extreme scrutiny in the press. When the San Francisco Examiner published a feature article in February 1962 entitled: ‘The Rock’ Is Crumbling; Alcatraz Is Reaching the End of the Line, the Kennedy Administration acknowledged that its closure considerations included the prison’s structural degradation from age and natural caustic elements. In the article, Bureau of Prisons Director James Bennett provided a variety of other factors that made the prison difficult to maintain. The Examiner quoted Bennett as stating that Alcatraz had become an “administrative monstrosity,” and that “Prison Bureau guards and staff do not like to be assigned to the barren island any more than prisoners like being sent there.”

Alcatraz had been established in the 1930s to strike fear into the hearts of the American gangsters, and by the early 1960s, more central and state-of-the-art facilities better served the ever-changing demographics of crime. But although Alcatraz closed its gates for the last time on March 21, 1963, it never loosened its grip on public intrigue. During its 29 years of operation, 1,576 inmate register numbers were issued. Fifteen-hundred-forty-six men had served time on the Rock, 28 of those had returned twice, and the singular prisoner Theodore Audett served three completely separate terms at Alcatraz.

In addition to the fourteen escapes, there had been scores of plots and schemes to escape that never materialized, and several men (and at least one woman) lost their lives on the Rock, even before its tenure as a federal prison. As Erwin Thompson noted in his epic history The Rock: A History of Alcatraz Island: 1847-1972:

Births and deaths were a part of the fabric of Alcatraz’s history. Between 1875 and 1891 and from 1893 to 1910, 35 garrison soldiers and general prisoners died on the island. Of these deaths, 20 were caused by disease, 9 were accidental, 5 were suicides, and 1 was a murder. In addition, two wives lost their lives: one who was killed (below), and a sergeant’s wife who committed suicide.

One of the most tragic incidents of death involved the capable and conscientious post surgeon, Capt. William D. Dietz. On the morning of January 28, 1891, the 29-year-old captain and his young wife were found dead in their quarters. The terse medical report read: “Mrs. Dietz came to her death at the hands of the Captain. Weapon used—shot-gun, Caliber 10, subsequently the Captain killed himself with the same weapon. Insanity is supposed to be the cause of the tragedy.”

The island experienced another act of violence in 1909 when Sgt. Roy Ford threw Pvt. Thomas Mullaly out of a third-story window in the barracks. The private fell 37 feet onto the iron grating and was killed instantly. Sergeant Ford then killed himself with a .38 caliber Colt.

Over the course of its history, the Rock has seen its share of tragedy and desperation. During its federal term from 1934 to 1963, eight people were murdered by inmates, five men committed suicide, and fifteen died from natural causes. The highest number of inmates ever recorded at any single period was 319, and the lowest number of 222 was recorded in January 1950. The average number of inmates during the 29 years of operation was 263.

While several men tested their fate and plotted to escape the Rock, most convicts passed their sentences uneventfully. They lived their days on Alcatraz, enduring the prison’s iron rule, all set against the painfully enticing landscape of the San Francisco shoreline.

Countered against the numerous tragedies were equal or greater numbers of victories for some men, as illustrated in this letter to Warden Johnston following the prisoner’s transfer to USP Leavenworth:

Alcatraz Warden James A. Johnston

January 2, 1948

Mr. James A. Johnston

Alcatraz, California

Dear Sir:

I received a letter tonight from my brother, he wrote that you informed him that I was receiving 1095 days extra credits. I was notified of the extra credits here, some few days before Christmas.

I wish to sincerely thank you for this and the confidence you have shown and belief in my honesty. I shall always feel thankful and I can surely repay it in honest endeavor to do that which is right. I am working in the hospital here. I am satisfied with my work. I am going to church regularly. I like that too. I have found that to be truthful and honest is easier, and leaves one feeling good, undisturbed and sure of oneself.

I have heard the remark that “Alcatraz has served its purpose”, for me it did serve a purpose—for it was there that I eventually found myself. I learned there that the criminal thought is the most repugnant thing in the world.

For you, in your thankless job, I feel most humbly thankful. I feel that I cannot be thankful enough. I shall ever be.

Most respectfully yours,

---------------

The closure of Alcatraz marked the end of an era. Today, Alcatraz is only a skeleton of its former self, but it remains an iconic symbol of America’s ultimate escape-proof punishment. The passage of time has softened the voices that once resonated from the cement cellblocks. As the inmates’ voices pass from memory and onto pages of history, their letters remind us of their intimate thoughts, the struggles they endured while in prison, and of their dreams of recovery, redemption, and ultimately, freedom.

Photography and Illustration Credits

The primary source for prisoner catalog photographs, letters, documents and illustrations are courtesy of the National Archives and Records Administration and/or United States Library of Congress Historic Records Collection. Additional sources were used for a variety of the images included in this publication. Specific catalog collection numbers or facility locations for unique photographs are included in the print version. To associate photographs with their specific archive locations, please refer to the print version of this publication.

Images in this collection were all used by permission from the following archival sources:

Acme Photo Service

Al Capone Museum, Mario Gomes Collection

Alcatraz Alumni Association, Courtesy Chuck Stucker

Anne Miller Family Collection

Associated Press Archives

Author’s Historical Artifact and Photograph Collection

Boston Herald Archives

Bureau of Prisons Archives

California State Archives

Don Denevi Collection, Golden Gate National Recreation Area, Parks Archives, Associated Press Photograph, GOGA Catalog Index number provided in the print version

Forrest Esslinger

Golden Gate National Recreation Area, Parks Archives

John Martini Collection

K. Udall

Library of Congress Historical Photograph Collection

Lori Brosnan Collection

Michael Esslinger Collection

National Archives and Records Administration, College Park, Maryland

National Park Service / Golden Gate National Recreation Area Museum Collection

Patty Terry & William Radkay Family Collection

Phil Dollison Collection, Golden Gate National Recreation Area, Parks Archives, GOGA Catalog Index number provided in the print version.

Ronnie Comeau, iStock Photography

San Francisco Chronicle / San Francisco Call Bulletin / Examiner Photo Archives

San Francisco Public Library, History Center Archives

United Press Photos

United States Coast Guard Archives

Washington State Historical Society

Acknowledgements

The legacy of Alcatraz has been defined in the strictest sense, by those individuals who lived the experience, and those who conserve and sustain the history. Whether they spent time on the Rock as an inmate, correctional officer, or even a child growing up on the island, the history of Alcatraz encompasses a variety of people and perspectives, all equally important to framing the history in its proper context. The primary research for this book was in many respects a crossover from my first book chronicling the history of Alcatraz. While the scope of research was more singular in focus, credit falls to those same people who were willing to share their time, knowledge, and memories of life on the island. Their contributions were every bit as significant to this work as to the former works. The acknowledgements section could have easily been copied over into this book and have remained as accurate, since many of the same people inspired and provided advice on the best avenues to explore this material. There are still those who again deserve special mention as well as some new voices. Without their help and expertise, this book would not have enveloped the same level of genuineness to understanding the complex inner workings of Alcatraz.

Joseph Sanchez, Archivist with the National Archives, continues to remain an enthusiastic supporter even after years of endless file requests. Along with Joseph, I remain thankful to all of the staff members at the National Archives who have always extended their support and assistance. Sam Daniel at the Library of Congress was key in helping locate specific elements for this collection. All of these people remained instrumental in offering advice and direction for materials in all stages of my research. I know that America’s history is in very good hands with these people.

John Reinhardt, the extraordinary designer, has become a very good friend over the past decade. His vision and passion for this history always make these pages come to life. Jim Zach, the brilliant designer of the cover is also an amazing and great colleague. And a special thank you to Ana Brazil for her craft and care in editing this revised version.

The National Park Rangers, Volunteers, and Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy staff are a group of dedicated individuals who continue to earn my sincere and deep admiration. Their passionate efforts to share this history with visitors from all over the world with such integrity and neutrality, is not only something to be commended, but is a model for all interpretive museums and historic sites alike. They continue to approach the history in a balanced and dignified fashion, and make this history come alive for visitors on a daily basis. Nothing has been more rewarding than the friendships that have evolved from spending time on the Rock. Everyone at Alcatraz has been very supportive and encouraging. Namely but not limited to National Park Rangers: Ricardo Perez, John Cantwell, Lori Brosnan, Benny Batom, Jayeson Vance, Dan Unger, Al Blank, George Durgerian, Andrew Prys, and Craig Glassner.

From the Golden Gate National Parks Conservancy: Linda Chalmers, Robert Lieber, Chris Warren, Lala Macapagal, Louise Audell, Wendy Swee, John Moran, Jim Nelson, Katherina Machwitz, Sharlene Baker, Drew Morita, Art Owen, Dan Cook, Angelita Cecilio, Eric Knackmuhs, Jude Savoy, John Donelan, Glenn Mullin, Phillip Griffiths, Tory Light, Heather Paris, Kristen Elford, Arman Safa, Jim Breeden, Dallas Fargo, and all of the dedicated employees from this organization and also the staff at Alcatraz Cruises continue to do stellar service for this national treasure. Historians John Martini, Jolene Babyak, Phil Dollison, Anne Miller, Mario Gomes, Tim Brazil, and San Francisco City Archivist Susan Goldstein also helped in providing additional material and perspectives. Also Stan Cordes, Tom Ryan, Lorie Johns, Petty Terry, and Pete Dracopoulos have all been very supportive. Fern Price and Joan Santoro carefully transcribed the letters for this collection.

There are numerous Alcatraz Alumni who continue to keep the history alive. Notably, Ernest Lageson, Father Bernie Bush, and Chuck Stucker, a man who I continue to maintain a deep respect for sharing his experiences and research with Alcatraz visitors. Former Alcatraz Officers George DeVincenzi, Frank Heaney, Patrick T. Mahoney, John Hernan, Ben Blount, Sam Hill, Ron Battles, Bill Long, Robert Sutter, Ned Ubben and especially Larry Quilligan, who have all helped me immensely by always taking time to answer my plethora of questions, many during the reunion events held on Alcatraz. The late Darwin Coon, former Alcatraz inmate, is also someone who I came to admire and considered a friend. Morton Sobell also deserves special mention for having shared perspectives of life on Alcatraz during initial interviews for my first book, and for richly shaping my understanding of some of the more complex issues of long-term confinement.

For this revised edition, I owe special thanks to James Bulger who offered extensive background and personal memories to many of the events during his tenure at Alcatraz. He was generous and proved to be an essential source in helping preserve this history. He has taught me more about life at Alcatraz than anyone I’ve interviewed on the subject. Former Robert Luke and his wife Ida have also been an immense help and have become great friends. Bob kept his Alcatraz past a secret for over 50 years, and has given back to those still incarcerated with his inspirational “Choices” literature, which he provides free to penitentiaries across the country. I’m confident that his openness will inspire many to find a path back to free society and finally live their dreams.

Tragically, in the time since the publication of my last work of the same theme, we’ve lost many of the prominent voices that were the architects of this history. It is their voices that have inspired the Alcatraz heritage. Philip R. Bergen, former Captain at Alcatraz, remains to me a lost friend. He long considered his 16 years on Alcatraz as some of the best years of his life. One very cold and early morning before visitors arrived, I experienced the audio tour in a completely empty cellhouse. As Phil’s voice provided some of the narration for the tour, it was a profound experience to hear him recounting life on the Rock for visitors, even after his passing. There was no tougher critic than Phil when it came to documenting this history. He always inspired accuracy and encouraged me to leave no stone uncovered. Phil provided numerous letters, audio recordings, and diagrams to illustrate various events. The spirit of his devotion to this history continues as an inspiration to me. I remain proud to pay forward his heritage. Clifford Fish, Irving Levinson, and Alver Bloomquist were also kind spirits who helped me immensely during my path of discovery.

The late former Alcatraz inmates: Jim Quillen, John Banner, John Dekker, Leon “Whitey” Thompson, Dale Stamphill, Glenn Nathan Williams, Tom Kent, Elliott “Mickey” Michener and Willie Radkay are just a few people to whom I maintain a deep appreciation for sharing their experiences with me. Jim once pointed out to me that while alone in a dark isolation cell on Alcatraz, he had an epiphany. He realized that he had reached the lowest point a human could reach. He was considered so unfit for society that he had to be confined in a pitch black, steel reinforced cell. It was here that he turned his rudder and plotted a course back to society. All of these men worked to become good men within their communities. I appreciate their willingness to share their stories and help others learn from their mistakes and the consequences of some of their choices. I don’t believe it was an easy life for any one of them—even once released from prison—but I appreciate their openness and honesty. Their voices continue to educate and help others understand life at Alcatraz. The real gift of my time studying this history has been these resulting and longstanding friendships. Getting to know these people and enjoying our talks over morning coffee on the boat to the island are the memories I will look back on and treasure most.

Finally, I wish to thank all the people I love most: My mother and father, Temple and Jack, Linda and Stephen, my wife Julie, and three sons Forrest, Brandon, and Ross. Finally, my late terrier Luck, my lost writing partner who I miss deeply... And finally to my late friend and very much missed Michael Lundeen. A mentor, an inspiration, and a man who always chased dreams and saw things that arched far beyond the horizon.

My life has forever been enriched by all of you...

Thank you all,

Michael Esslinger

About The Author

Michael Esslinger is an acclaimed historical researcher and bestselling author. His work has appeared in film and television documentaries, including segments on the Discovery, National Geographic, Travel, Military and History Channels. His interests include film, science, and historical subjects.

From the elusive crew of Apollo 11 to the inmates who served time on Alcatraz, Michael has interviewed icons and others who have shaped history. He continues to write on subjects that explore the spectrum of the human experience. His books Alcatraz: A Definitive History of the Penitentiary Years and Letters from Alcatraz continue as best-selling references chronicling the island’s rich historical past. He is the coauthor of the memoir: I Want It Now! A Memoir of Life on the Set of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, a magical memoir written with Julie Dawn Cole, the original “Veruca Salt” in the classic motion picture starring Gene Wilder.

Current projects include a comprehensive history of the Apollo program, documenting mankind’s epic journey to the moon, which is based on first person interviews with the Apollo Astronauts including Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, and Michael Collins; Alcatraz Escape – The Untold Story of the Greatest Prison Escape in American History, a new detailed account of the famed 1962 Frank Morris and Anglin Brothers escape and Al Capone: The King of Alcatraz, a historical account of Capone’s years on the Rock.

Visit www.HistoryArchive.com for more information on current and future works.

Also available from Ocean View Publishing:

Alcatraz — A Definitive History of the Penitentiary Years

By Michael Esslinger

Paperback: 464 pages

ISBN-10: 0970461402

ISBN-13: 978-0970461407

NATIONAL EDITORIAL REVIEWS

“Michael Esslinger’s steady gaze penetrates the Hollywood fog surrounding Alcatraz to find an even greater trove of historical riches and human drama than screenwriters could imagine, illuminated in meticulous detail.”

—San Francisco Chronicle

“They’re all here, from Capone and the Birdman to tough warden “Salt Water” Johnston and even the “Rock Islanders” inmate orchestra. “Alcatraz” delivers on its promise as a definitive history. Author Michael Esslinger balances the drama of his narrative with an earnest effort to let the facts speak for themselves. The result is a fascinating portrait, sprung from the heart of Devil’s Island.”

—Chicago Tribune

“This is a serious book, a comprehensive history of the island during its three decades as a federal penitentiary. At 451 oversized pages, including more than 1,000 pictures, it also represents a mammoth research undertaking... simply a terrific book, and an even better reference tool.”

—Coast Weekly

“I think you will enjoy reading Michael’s book. Through meticulous research, he has captured the experience of Alcatraz with an authentic voice. It is a skillful blend of history and character study, and a compelling portrait of America’s most notorious prison.”

—Former Alcatraz Inmate Darwin E. Coon

“Many books have been written about Alcatraz, or rather about aspects of its history (i.e., prison life as recounted by former inmates or accounts of the sensational escape attempts), but Michael Esslinger has compiled the first complete definitive history of The Rock. From fortress to military prison to federal penitentiary through the “Indian Occupation” and right down to its present status as a National Park. All the escape attempts are covered in detail, as are the infamous inmates, and the political maneuverings that led to both the rise and fall of Alcatraz. Even Alcatraz movies are examined and both the similarities and contrasts of the real “Birdman,” Robert Stroud, with the character portrayed by Burt Lancaster, are startling. Though boasting an extensive bibliography, the book is the end product of original research at its finest, being based largely on Bureau of Prison records, FBI files, contemporary news accounts, and interviews with many former Alcatraz inmates and officials. And this scholarly and well-written work is a visual delight at 450 pages and with hundreds of photos. Also included is a complete listing of all Alcatraz inmates. The first truly factual work on a much sensationalized chapter of American history, it’s an endlessly fascinating book and makes for great reading.”

— Rick Mattix, Public Enemies: America’s Criminal Past, 1919-1940

“Historian Michael Esslinger offers readers an in-depth portrait of the intimidating and seemingly inescapable American prison in Alcatraz: A Definitive History of the Penitentiary Years. Black-and-white photographs enhance a detailed chronicle of this penal institution and its inmates, from its creation as a Mexican military fortress, to its first use as an American Civil War facility of incarceration for prisoners of war by the Union in 1861, down to its final closure in 1963. A detailed, in-depth, definitive, informative, and superbly presented account of an infamous institution of

American history, Alcatraz is a unique and welcome contribution to Penology Studies

and American History reference collections.”

— Midwest Book Review, KNLS Bookwatch

Available at reputable online booksellers including ParksConservancy.org, Amazon.com, HistoryArchive.com, www.alcatraz.us.com and AlcatrazHistory.com.