Текст книги "Alcatraz: A Definitive History of the Penitentiary Years "

Автор книги: Майкл Эсслингер

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 42 страниц)

Kathryn Kelly and George Kelly following their capture in 1933.

George and Kathryn Kelly during their sentencing.

Following her conviction, Kathryn Kelly was transferred to the Federal prison in Cincinnati, Ohio.

George Kelly was transferred to Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary under heavy guard.

In prison, Kelly constantly boasted about robberies and murders that he had never committed. Although this was said to be an apparent point of frustration for several fellow prisoners, Warden Johnson considered him a model inmate and his life at Alcatraz was largely uneventful. He took a job as an altar boy in the prison chapel, worked in the laundry and served out his time quietly. Warden Johnson noted that Kelly would become depressed when receiving mail from family members. He seemed to feel remorse for his crimes and always felt that his wife Kathryn and their other accomplices were treated too harshly.

Machine Gun Kelly (without hat) enjoying his time on the Alcatraz Recreation Yard. Seated next to him (wearing hat) is Willie Radkay.

Basil “The Owl” Banghart and Machine Gun Kelly were close friends at Alcatraz.

Letters from Kelly to the Attorney General, requesting an immediate transfer from Alcatraz.

Inmate Willie Radkay, who occupied a cell next to Kelly, stated that he had many fond memories of getting to know him, and working together in the prison Industries along with Basil “The Owl” Banghart. Every day they would work side-by-side, enduring all of Kelly’s “big tales.” When asked about his most prominent memory of living next to Machine Gun, Radkay said that nearly every night Kelly would accuse Willie of snoring, reach out of his cell and slap him with a magazine.

Kelly wrote several remorseful letters to Urschel begging his help in pleading his case. His letters provide a genuine sense of the pain and loneliness he suffered during his imprisonment on the Rock. In one letter written to Charles Urschel on April 11, 1940, Kelly penned perhaps some of the most profound observations ever written on the subjects of crime, and time served on America’s “Devil’s Island.”  He wrote in part:

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...

George Kelly’s Leavenworth mug shot, taken in 1951 (top) and (bottom) the last known living photo of Machine Gun Kelly, taken just prior his death in 1954.

A telegram to the Director of the Bureau of Prisons, announcing George Kelly’s death in 1954.

Kathryn Kelly playing the piano at the women’s correctional facility in Ohio, and prison portrait taken during the same period.

R.G. (Boss) Shannon, takes a last look at George Kelly, during the famed gunman's funeral in Cottondale, Texas on July 27, 1954. Shannon also served time in prison for his part in the kidnapping of Charles Urscel.

 

Charles Urschel apparently never responded to any of Kelly’s letters. George “Machine Gun” Kelly would spend seventeen years on Alcatraz and was returned to Leavenworth in 1951. Kelly died of a heart attack on July 18, 1954. Ironically, it was his fifty-ninth birthday. Kathryn was released from prison just four years following Kelly’s death, and took a job at an Oklahoma hospital as a bookkeeper. Albert Bates died of a heart attack on July 4, 1948, while still an inmate at Alcatraz.

Morton Sobell

Morton Sobell

Julius and Ethel Rosenberg

In March of 1951, Morton Sobell, known internationally as the notorious Atom Spy, was brought to trial for conspiracy to commit espionage against the United States. He was the co-defendant of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, and their court case remains one the most famous and controversial trials in American history. Their alleged acts were declared the “Crime of the Century” by J. Edgar Hoover and the trial would result in the execution of both of the Rosenbergs. Sobell would escape the death penalty, but would receive a harsh thirty-year Federal prison term. In an attempt to apply one of the most severe punishments that the Federal prison system could impose, J. Edgar Hoover personally requested that Sobell be sent to Alcatraz.

In 1950 the Federal Bureau of Investigation arrested Julius Rosenberg, then an electrical engineer employed by the U.S. Army Signal Corps, and his wife Ethel, a vocal activist for communism. They were indicted for conspiracy to transmit classified military information to a foreign power. During the course of their trial, the prosecution charged that the Rosenbergs had persuaded Ethel's brother David Greenglass, an Army Technical Sergeant at a top-secret governmental laboratory in Los Alamos, to furnish a Soviet agent named Anatoli Yakovlev with classified data on nuclear weapons. Greenglass had allegedly sketched schematics of the atomic bomb design, and provided several other key documents. It was revealed during the trial that he had full military clearance, with access to the most sensitive Defense Department data.

Morton Sobell was born on April 11, 1917, to Russian immigrants who had remained active in the Communist Party after immigrating to the United States. Morton met Julius Rosenberg while attending the City College School of Engineering in New York. Both men belonged to a young communist league and were active in promoting their political views. After completing their studies, Sobell and another colleague, Max Elitcher, moved to Washington D. C., where they shared an apartment while working at the Bureau of Ordnance in the Department of the Navy.

Years later during the famous trial, the sole evidence that would be introduced against Sobell was the testimony of Max Elitcher. Elitcher had admitted to being a communist, attributing this to Sobell’s influence. It was also through Sobell that he had become acquainted with the Rosenbergs, who he alleged were known to him as secret Soviet agents.   He testified that he had acted as a courier between Sobell and Julius Rosenberg. Despite Elitcher’s incriminating testimony, the prosecution failed to present any substantial proof that Sobell had any connection with atomic bomb research and supplied no evidence of the alleged transmission of information on his part. Nevertheless, the prosecution asserted that an extensive spy ring had been in operation of which Sobell had been a principle member. They built their case around his previous political and personal affiliations and his association with the Rosenbergs.

The case was further based on a decision Sobell had made in 1950, when two days before the Korean War broke out, he left with his family to seek sanctuary in Mexico – perhaps knowing that he would be sought in connection with the Rosenbergs. Initially he made no attempts to conceal his identity in his travels. He used his own name to book the flight, and to rent property during his stay in Mexico. But the fact that Sobell then assumed an alias to seek passage to Europe would prove seriously detrimental to his case. The prosecution was able to link Sobell further with the Rosenbergs’ activities, because he departed for Mexico during the same time window in which Greenglass was paid by the Russians for transmitting atomic bomb secrets.

Although the evidence linking Sobell to the case was weak, the prosecution effectively persuaded the jury to convict him, stating in part: “Sobell’s conduct fits the pattern of membership in this conspiracy and flight from an American Jury when the day of reckoning had come.”  On March 29, 1951, the jury pronounced all three defendants guilty of conspiracy to commit espionage, and the Rosenbergs were sentenced to death. The judge asserted that while he was fully confident that Sobell had also engaged in espionage activities, he was bound to recognize the lesser degree of his implication. Soviet agent Anatoli Yakovlev managed to escape back to Russia before the F.B.I. could apprehend him.

Despite many court appeals and pleas for executive clemency, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were executed by electrocution on June 19, 1953, at Sing Sing Prison in New York. They became the first U.S. civilians to suffer the death penalty in an espionage trial, and the controversial case received worldwide attention. Some supporters claimed that the political climate in the country had made a fair trial impossible, while others questioned the value of the information that had been transmitted to the Soviet Union, arguing that the death penalty was too severe in this case. President Eisenhower was unsympathetic and unyielding, stating: “I can only say, that by immeasurably increasing the chances of atomic war, the Rosenbergs may have condemned to death tens of millions of innocent people all over the world.”

No other spy case has had such global ramifications. The description of the Rosenbergs’ executions reverberated throughout the world, and would forever call into question the cruel process of death by electrocution. The Associated Press printed a disturbing and vivid account of Ethel’s death, which ultimately weakened public support for capital punishment.

Morton Sobell arrived at Alcatraz on November 26, 1952, as inmate AZ-996. His background as an engineer was not parallel to the criminal histories shared by his new neighbors and he seemed an unusual candidate for the island prison. The administration had worried that because of the nature of his crimes, Sobell could be targeted by the other inmates who by nature were extremely patriotic. But Sobell was also Hoover’s archenemy, and this would in fact earn him a special status amongst the inmate population. In his personal memoir entitled On Doing Time, Sobell recounted his experiences in seemingly unbiased detail. He wrote that the environment at Alcatraz was different from that of any other prison he had seen. The inmates seemed unusually curious, and the guard staff was openly courteous, initially going as far as to address him as “Mr. Sobell.”  Like most other new “fish,” he was placed in B Block for a quarantine cycle and it would be several weeks before he was given a job assignment.

Sobell also commented that the population at Alcatraz seemed unusually subdued when he first arrived and that the prison was “like a tomb of living souls. ”  Unlike many of the other inmates he was able to adjust to his environment at Alcatraz and used his idle cell time productively by reading extensively from the prison library. Sobell was eventually moved to a cell located at the far corner of C Block. Warden Swope frequently stopped at Sobell’s cell when giving tours to special visitors. He commented during an interview, that without fail, every time the Warden would bring people by as they were touring the prison, they’d catch him sitting on the toilet. He would later reside on the top tier in cell #C-342, where it was significantly warmer and he had a spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge.

On March 7, 1958, Sobell was received at Federal Penitentiary in Atlanta, and then on May 30, 1963 he was transferred to the Medical Facility for Federal Inmates in Springfield Missouri. At Springfield Sobell developed a close friendship with Robert Stroud, the “Birdman of Alcatraz,” and would later be the one to find him dead of natural causes in his cell. Sobell was transferred to the Federal Penitentiary in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania on January 30, 1965, and was finally released on January 14, 1969.

Sobell in 2001 returning to Alcatraz as a visitor.

Roy Gardner

Roy Gardner

In the late 1930’s Roy Gardner was known as one of the last notorious train robbers from the old western era, and in the first years after Alcatraz became a Federal prison; Gardner’s name was synonymous with the island institution. He spent two years incarcerated on the island from 1934 until 1936 and after his ultimate release in 1938, he peddled a small informational book and narrated boat tours for San Francisco tourists. Jim Quillen once said that if the walls of Alcatraz could talk, every cell would be novel of tragedy and despair, and he felt that this was especially true in the case of Roy Gardner. When Gardner arrived on one of the first trains from Leavenworth to Alcatraz, he was already a “solid con,” or a seasoned inmate. Gardner was known to the public as a brilliant escape artist, and he was famous for his Houdini-like jailbreaks. Up until his arrival at Alcatraz in 1934, he had seemed nearly impossible to keep caged.

Gardner was born on January 5, 1886 to a poor family in Trenton, Missouri. He entered the U.S. Army, and served in the 22 ^ndInfantry stationed in the Philippine Islands from 1903 to 1905. After returning to the U.S., he deserted the military because of what he described as “serious gambling debts.”  Fearing for his life, he fled to Mexico and took a job working in the mines. In 1909 Gardner was arrested in Mexico for smuggling weaponry, and was sentenced to death by a firing squad for his involvement with the Mexican Revolutionary Army. While awaiting his execution, he was confined in a dungeon under the most horrific conditions. The cells were rat-infested and dimly lit, and he was forced to relieve himself in a bucket that was emptied infrequently. Just three days before his scheduled execution, he amazingly overpowered his sentry and fled to Arizona. From there he eventually traveled northwest to San Francisco.

On December 22, 1910, during the busy Christmas shopping season, Gardner robbed Glindemann’s Jewelry Store on Market Street in San Francisco. Posing as a distinguished customer, he waited as the clerk laid a full tray of diamond rings before him. After taking some time to examine the gems, he grabbed the entire tray and fled into the street, but he was quickly spotted and tackled by a San Francisco police officer. Following his trial he was sentenced to serve five years in a California state prison, and he entered San Quentin on February 16, 1911. He was by all accounts a model inmate, and worked productively in the Prison Industries. He was released in September of 1913, and secured a job at a copper mine in Kennett, California. He eventually took a welding job at the Mare Island Naval Ship Yard, and sold war bonds during World War I. During his short reprieve from crime, Gardner met and married a pretty waitress named Dolly Wades. But despite this interlude of normalcy, Gardner’s link to the world of crime had not yet dissolved.

Dolly Wades-Gardner

After a busted gambling spree during a business trip in April of 1920, Gardner was again arrested for robbing a postal mail messenger in San Diego, taking approximately $75,000 in bonds and securities. He was sentenced to a twenty-five-year Federal term at McNeil Island. The thought of enduring another prison term was unbearable to Gardner, and during his transfer by train, cuffed in hand and leg irons, he made a bold escape from the Federal marshals who were accompanying him. He somehow managed to secure their guns, and made them take off his shackles. He fled, and immediately thereafter committed another robbery. This time he had truly struck gold as his heist would net him over $200,000. But his luck was to prove short-lived. Only days after the robbery, Gardner was recognized while playing poker at a saloon in Roseville, California. The Porter House Saloon was only blocks from where he had committed the robbery. He was captured, and was sent back to McNeil to serve out an additional prison term. Amazingly enough, just like a modern-day Houdini, he again escaped from the Federal marshals. But he was recaptured soon after, and this time extensive precautions would be taken to ensure that he had no means of escape.

In September of 1921 Gardner was transferred to Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary, and he immediately fell into conflict with the prison administration. He was transferred to Atlanta in October of 1925 and in July of 1926, he attempted another daring escape. Gardner and four other inmates secured weapons and attempted to take hostages, but their plan failed, and Gardner was placed in a deep lockdown status where he would remain for several months.

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 friends and family. Following his unsuccessful escape, Gardner had finally acquiesced under the strict prison rules. He eventually earned the reputation of a model inmate, and was granted his request for transfer to what he would later call “Hellcatraz.”  Gardner was destined to do hard time during his twenty-five month imprisonment at Alcatraz. Warden Johnston had assigned him to work in the Mat Factory, and he would later comment that Leavenworth and 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 Leavenworth in 1936, and was finally released from prison in 1938. He drifted back to San Francisco, and set up an exhibition booth at the Golden Gate Pan Pacific Exposition on Treasure Island. Gardner recounted to patrons his murderous stories of violence and torture, and autographed his personal memoir entitled Hellcatraz.

Roy Gardner’s Hellcatraz.

Following his release from Alcatraz, Gardner worked as a guide on a San Francisco tour boat for a short period.

Using cyanide, sulfuric acid, and a bath towel, Gardner created his own makeshift gas chamber, and committed suicide by draping the bathroom sink with a towel and covering his head.

Gardner’s show, entitled Crime Doesn’t Pay, failed to draw large crowds, and it eventually closed. He then spent a brief period working as a narrator on a San Francisco tour boat, but was later forced to take employment as a baker in San Francisco.

Gardner eventually found himself with no friends and his wife had left him and remarried. He finally committed suicide in a small San Francisco hotel 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 note warning 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. He wrote a note to the San Francisco Call-Bulletin that read: “I’m old and tired and don’t care to continue the struggle. Please let me down as light as possible.”

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