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

Автор книги: Майкл Эсслингер

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On the morning of December 3, 1948 at 7:00 a.m., two years after the violent escape attempt, the two prisoners were seated in adjacent cells for their final meal. At 9:35 a.m., the cyanide pellets were fastened into place inside the gas chamber. At 9:50 a.m., visitors started to line the witness room facing the airtight octagonal steel chamber. There were three officers from Alcatraz in attendance to witness the execution. The two inmates were walked side by side into the chamber, with Shockley seated first, followed by Thompson. Ironically the next person to enter the chamber was Dr. Leo Stanley, who had helped to treat the injured officers during the events of ‘46. He affixed a remote tube stethoscope to each of the prisoners’ chests, and then exited to monitor the proceedings from outside the chamber. The two prisoners were seated in adjacent steel chairs, with leather straps pulled tightly around their wrists, ankles, and chests. Judge Goodman had ordered U.S. Marshal George Vice to carry out the execution of both men, and he stood in the doorway with Warden Duffy, who asked the men if they had any final words. Shockley uttered angry slurs, and Thompson sat quietly. The steel door was swung closed, and a guard turned a mechanism that resembled the hatch of a submarine, pneumatically sealing the chamber.

Thompson and Shockley were both sentenced to die in the gas chamber at San Quentin. They were executed seated side-by-side on December 3, 1948.

At 10:04 a.m., Warden Duffy nodded the signal to allow the small fluid wells under each man’s chair to begin filling with sulfuric acid. As the curtains were opened, the men peered at the witnesses sitting outside the chamber. One minute later, the cyanide pellets were dropped into the sulfuric acid pans. It was later stated that both men strained violently against the straps as they breathed in the deadly gas. At 10:12 a.m., the two men were pronounced dead. At 10:15 a.m. the eyewitnesses left the witness room, and the five-man execution team started to clear the gas from the chamber in order to remove the corpses. The sulfuric acid was neutralized by flushing the seat wells with distilled water. A powerful blower fan connected to a large duct on top of the chamber was used to dissipate the residual gases. The bodies of the prisoners were carefully pulled from the seats, and their clothing was removed and incinerated.

Thompson was shipped to Harry M. William’s Mortuary in San Rafael, and when his brother Horace was unable to claim his body, he was buried in grave plot #235 at the Marin County Farm Cemetery on December 9, 1948.

Miran Thompson was buried in this peaceful unmarked graveyard, located in the foothills of Marin County. His grave is just a few feet from the tree seen in the foreground.

Miran Thompson’s death certificate.

Shockley’s remains were taken to Kenton’s Mortuary for embalming, and then shipped back to his sister Myrtle in Oklahoma. As an interesting endnote, Warden Duffy, who had overseen the execution of the two inmates, had long opposed the death penalty. But while he opposed the practice of execution, he did believe that the inmates executed were unquestionably guilty of the crimes for which they were convicted. He later wrote: “I have never presided over the execution of an innocent person, although several of the ninety whose deaths I ordered... claimed innocence right up to the last minute. The evidence against these people was so convincing that I seriously doubt miscarriages of justice.”

Following the trial of the inmates, Clarence Carnes was returned to Alcatraz, and he remained in segregation until 1952. Carnes was celled next to Robert Stroud, and he would develop a lasting relationship with the “Birdman of Alcatraz.”  Stroud took fondly to his new pupil, and taught him to play chess. By the time Carnes had integrated back into the normal prison population, he had been the titleholder of the institution’s chess championships for over ten years. After years of imprisonment, Carnes became a model inmate, and began to thrive in the prison environment. He would remain at Alcatraz up until a few months before its closure in 1963, when he was transferred to the Federal Prison Medical Adjustment Center in Springfield Illinois to undergo gallbladder surgery. Following his recovery he would be transferred to Leavenworth, and then paroled on Christmas Eve of 1973. Carnes moved in with his sister in Kansas City, but he found life outside of prison confusing and difficult. After having spent the majority of his life incarcerated, he found freedom overwhelming, and he took to heavy drinking and habitual drug use. He eventually violated parole, and was sent back to Leavenworth for a short period.

In late 1978 Carnes’ life story was dramatized in a screenplay, which was later produced as a made-for-television movie entitled Alcatraz – The Whole Shocking Story. Carnes worked as a consultant on the production, and a fellow inmate reported that he was paid $20,000 for the story. Carnes lived a short interlude of luxury and fame, which in the end would lead him only to a harder fall. He spent a brief period back at Alcatraz after it was opened as a national park, meeting with the public and talking about his experiences. The movie aired on the NBC Television Network on November 5-6 in 1980, featuring some of Hollywood’s most accomplished actors, including Academy Award winner Art Carney in the role of Robert Stroud. But when the money from the film finally ran out, Carnes found himself homeless on the streets of Missouri. He suffered from ill health, and eventually found his way back to prison after purposely violating parole in order to get off the streets. He died in 1988 at the Springfield Facility at the age of sixty-one. His story would again be told in another made-for-television special, based on the book Six Against the Rockby Clark Howard. The feature presentation was aired on NBC-TV, on May 18, 1987.

Ed Miller retired less than a year after the incident, and moved back to Leavenworth, where he had begun his career with the Bureau of Prisons. He died in March of 1967 at age seventy-seven. Robert Baker finished out his career at Alcatraz and later retired to Napa, California, in the heart of the wine country; he died in March of 1978 at age sixty-seven. Robert Bristow took a custodian job for a school district in Sacramento, where he lived throughout his retirement. Ernest Lageson became a schoolteacher in nearby Pittsburg, California, and died tragically of cancer at the young age of forty-two. Lieutenant Joe Simpson died on January 31, 1960, and was buried at Fort Leavenworth.

Cecil D. Corwin recovered from his wounds, and returned to work in the prison system. He continued to have medical problems as a result of his injuries, including blindness in his left eye, and was declared permanently disabled in May of 1948. Cecil and his wife Catheryn moved to Stockton, California, where he undertook studies in psychiatry. He later moved to Pomona, California, and worked as a psychiatric technician for the remainder of his career. He retired to Long Beach, California, and suffered a fatal heart attack in July of 1967. Joe Burdett retired to Woodland, California, and died in October of 1983 at age eighty-seven. Carl W. Sundstrom retired to Alameda, California, directly across the Bay from Alcatraz, and died in March of 1973 at age sixty-seven. Irving Levinson retired to Lake Ellsinore in Southern California, and died in 2002. Officer Elmus Besk remained in San Francisco following his career at Alcatraz, and passed away at the age of sixty-one, before reaching his retirement, in March of 1972. Ed Stucker remained in the Bay Area and retired to Palo Alto, California; he died on March 11, 1990, at age eighty-six. Isaac Faulk also remained in the Bay Area following his departure from Alcatraz, and sought other employment opportunities. He retired to Novato, California, and died in December of 1986 at age eighty-seven.

Henry H. Weinhold was classified as permanently disabled due to his injuries, and lived out his retirement across the Bay from Alcatraz in Marin; he died in April of 1967 at age seventy-six. Bert A. Burch moved to Arizona and retired in Coconino; he died in November of 1974 at seventy-three. Emil Rychner remained in San Francisco following his long career on The Rock and passed away in January of 1980 at age eighty-six. San Quentin Warden Clinton Duffy retired and successfully authored two books about his life as the Warden of San Quentin. Duffy and his wife Gladys retired to Walnut Creek, California, where he died in October of 1982 at eighty-four. Cretzer’s brother-in-law Arnold Kyle was paroled in his senior years and died in November of 1980 in Lynnwood, Washington at age seventy-one.

After a lifetime of rebellion, James Quillen changed course and began the long journey to bettering himself and preparing for his transition back to free society. He began taking extension courses through the University of California, and earned a trade certification as an X-ray technician, while working in the Alcatraz Prison Hospital.   Once released from prison, he lived a quiet life, later retiring as the Chief of X-ray at the Rideout Hospital in Marysville, California. He later authored a compelling memoir of life on the Rock entitled Alcatraz from the Insideand appeared frequently as a guest author on Alcatraz following its opening as a National Park. Jim died on October 6, 1998, following a short illness and was buried at the Vacaville-Elmira Cemetery in Northern California.

Clifford Fish had one of the most prominent careers on Alcatraz, serving from August of 1938 until March of 1962. In total he worked for twenty-four years on the island, serving the majority of his time in the Control Center. Fish retired to Grass Valley, California, until his passing in November of 2002. He remained an extraordinary historian of 1946 events.

Phil Bergen led a remarkable career navigating his way up the promotional ladder of the Federal Bureau of Prisons, and enjoyed a sixteen-year term of service at Alcatraz. Following the escape events of ’46, he received a promotion to Captain of the Guards. In 1955, he accepted the position of Associate Warden in La Tuna, Texas, and then was promoted to Correctional Inspector for the Bureau in Washington D.C. In this capacity, he would help to investigate the 1962 Morris-Anglin Escape at Alcatraz. Bergen remained as one of the great Alcatraz historians until his death on June 16, 2002. His legacy continues...

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The Battle of Alcatraz endures as one the most significant events in the entire history of criminal imprisonment. Of all the inmates who participated in escapes over the years at Alcatraz, Bernie Coy was the only one who successfully devised a workable plan to secure weapons, and then managed to use them in his break for freedom. After the escape attempt, the correctional staff would look differently upon some of the more trusted convicts. Even the men who held the roles of “passmen” were restricted from work until stricter measures were implemented. The question of why the three inmates chose death over life in their final hours will forever remain as one of the true mysteries of Alcatraz.

Fifty years after the Battle of Alcatraz, former inmate Jim Quillen, who was barricaded inside D Block during the incident and officer Phil Bergen, who led the assault teams into the West Gun Gallery, met with the author in 1997 to recount the 1946 events from the inside perspective. They are seen here looking up at the West Gallery where Phil Bergen was positioned during the events. At the time, it would have been unthinkable that fifty years later they would become friends and reflect on the events together. Both men have since passed away.

ESCAPE ATTEMPT #11

Date:

July 23, 1956

Inmates:

Floyd P. Wilson

Location:

Prison Dock

Floyd P. Wilson

Born in Chilhowie, Virginia on March 22, 1915, Floyd P. Wilson’s life would begin with a hard luck story which would eventually lead to murder. In the cold winter of 1947, Wilson was a jobless carpenter when he set out to steal seventeen dollars for a ton of coal to heat his near-freezing home in Maryland. He was allegedly trying to support his wife and five young children, and as he would later testify, he was “trying to keep them from freezing to death.”  Distraught and cold, he decided to prey upon a young food market messenger who was driving to a local bank with a cash deposit of $10,162 from the store where he worked. The messenger apparently resisted, and Wilson would later testify that everything seemed to move in slow motion as he opened fire on the innocent man. Floyd stated that watched in horror as his victim dropped to the ground in a pool of blood. He was quickly identified as the perpetrator of the crime and soon found himself in a Washington, D.C. jail cell awaiting trial for the slaying.

Wilson ultimately received a conviction for first-degree murder and as a result of the brutal nature of the crime; he was sentenced to death by electrocution on June 27, 1947. His attorneys appealed the verdict, stating that Wilson was only a desperate man trying to support his ailing family. He was presented to the court as an honorable family man who had been reduced to crime because of his inability to find work. On August 3, 1948 President Harry Truman proved sympathetic to Wilson’s case, and in consideration of the mitigating circumstances, he commuted the death sentence to life in prison. Wilson was transferred to the Federal Penitentiary at Atlanta in April of 1949. Shortly thereafter, he was found in possession of a rope and some pipe segments, which officials speculated were likely intended for use in an escape attempt. Based on the length of his sentence and his high risk of escape, he was recommended for transfer to Alcatraz.

President Harry Truman was sympathetic to Wilson’s case and commuted his sentence to life imprisonment in 1948.

Floyd P. Wilson arrived at Alcatraz on January 6, 1952, and was registered as inmate AZ-956. His conduct report reflects a man completely in conflict with his environment. While it was common knowledge that a significant percentage of inmates never fully adjusted to the rigid regimen of the penitentiary, this was especially evident with Floyd. Within his first year at Alcatraz, he received multiple disciplinary reports for insubordination and poor job performance. These reports reveal that Wilson rarely interacted with fellow inmates, and generally limited his conversation to correctional staff and older inmates.

Even in later years, Wilson minimized his interactions with prisoners as much as possible and insisted that he be fed separately, claiming that other inmates had threatened to kill him. It was also documented that over the course of his imprisonment at Alcatraz, Floyd rarely visited the recreation yard. When he did, he kept to himself. He preferred to spend his leisure time reading in his cell.

On July 23, 1956, Wilson was assigned to the dock crew and after a routine count in the late afternoon, he disappeared without a trace. His only hope for an escape to the mainland was a length of rope that he planned to use to tie logs together. Once he reached the water’s edge, he would try to collect wood and construct a makeshift raft. Warden Madigan best described the details of Wilson’s escape in a memo written to the Bureau of Prisons Director on July 27, 1956:

July 27, 1956

DIRECTOR, Bureau of Prisons

Warden Madigan – Alcatraz

Attempted Escape – Floyd P. Wilson, Reg. No 956-AZ

The following is an account of the events occurring on the afternoon of July 23 ^rdwhen inmate Floyd P. Wilson, Reg. No. 956-AZ ran from the dock crew and was able to hide out on the island for a period of several hours.

Four inmates were assigned to the dock crew that day, plus one inmate assigned to the garbage pick up detail. At 3:25 P.M. when the launch was due to leave on a scheduled trip, the water barge was also about to leave, and the inmates were called on the line for counting purposes which is customary procedure. The four dock inmates were on the line and the garbage truck, with Officer Jones and one inmate, had arrived at a position under #1 Dock Tower at that exact time. Mr. Jones stopped his truck until the boat and barge had cleared the docks. He then drove to the dock proper, let the inmate out of his truck and went about his duties, but told us later that he saw inmate Wilson take a rubber automobile tire and throw it on bonfire that was burning at the end of the dock. This created some black smoke that belched up, but not too much thought was given to this fact because Wilson had spent most of the day in burning excess refuse that had been around the dock.

At 3:40 a routine count was made by Mr. Black Dock, Officer in Charge, and all inmates were present. At 3:50 P.M. just as the launch “McDowell” was returning from the mainland, the inmates were called to the line where they could be easily counted, and Wilson was missing. A hasty search was made but he was not found so a call was put into the control center advising that Wilson was not present. The alarm was sounded on the island and in the matter of a few minutes the Evening Watch Officers and several officers on their day off arrived on the launch. These men were all pressed into service and started searching around the East end of the Island since it was felt that Wilson had gotten through the fence surrounding the end of the dock. Searchers immediately found an area near the bonfire Wilson had been attending where the fence was pried up which would permit him to crawl through and follow the sea-wall around until he was out of eyesight of #1 Tower Officer.

The FBI, plus the San Francisco Police Department, Coast Guard, Fort Mason and Presidio Military Police were immediately notified and our escape plan put into operation. All posts were covered and ten searching parties from two to three men each were sent out to several predetermined areas. The Coast Guard immediately sent two patrol boats which surrounded the island regularly, and the FBI sent a large number of officers to Fort Mason and the Fort Mason Dock, as well as Dock #4 where our launch lands. San Francisco Police covered the waterfront and the piers opposite Alcatraz, and they in turn notified the various Sheriffs and Highway Patrol. By all estimates Wilson had about a ten-minute start before searchers were out on his trail. He certainly did not have much time to secrete himself in that period, but was able to avoid detection until 2:55 A.M. the next morning.

My wife and I arrived at Dock #4 at 5:15 P.M. and quickly saw the activity around the dock and the patrolling by the Coast Guard Boats at Alcatraz. One of our officers notified me immediately that Wilson was missing, and it was the first thought of everyone that he had probably been able to secrete himself on the water barge and might have reached the mainland. Until I had talked to Mr. Jones after arriving on the island, I was convinced he was probably on the barge, however, Mr. Jones was so positive that he had seen him throwing the rubber tire on the fire at approximately 3:40 P.M. that I was convinced then he was hidden somewhere in the island.

Approximately 65 men from all services in the institution were searching the island from about 4:00 P.M. until midnight. The entire island was covered, and from midnight until 2:55 P.M. we had approximately 25 men involved in the search.

Mr. Christopherson, one of our industrial supervisors found Wilson flattened up against a depression in the rock along the beach at 2:55 A.M. and yelled to Mr. Norris who was near him that he had found the escapee. Wilson was very wet as though he had been in the water, but he was not unduly cold, and apparently had not been in this condition for a long period. When I talked to Wilson after his capture, he told me he had hidden himself in a depression in the rock around the east end at least 35 to 40 feet from the beach, and I am inclined to believe that he may have been in this hideout until some short time before he was captured. Upon investigating this and while Mr. Willingham was here, it was found that a person could lay in this crevice and could not be seen either from the beach, the water or from the area above. We had to let an officer down by a rope to get into this hole to determine just what type of area it was. Wilson might have reached this area by climbing an 8” sewer pipe from the beach. He is a strong, rugged fellow and if he was able to climb the pipe he could have gotten into the depression and be completely hidden.

Wilson refused to tell a straight story of his activities while he was in hiding, so it is difficult to believe what he does say, however, it is incredible that we could not find this man in the hours that we searched when we were positive he was in that area, so I am inclined to believe he was able to get into this rocky hideout approximately 40 feet up from the beach and still not be seen from the parade ground level above.

A press diagram showing the escape path of Floyd Wilson (Note that this photo was taken prior to 1956 and not reflective of the actual landscape during the period of the escape attempt). His attempt for freedom was thwarted when he was found huddled in a small wave-carved cave (described as a small depression in the rock formation) after nearly twelve hours.

We set up lights around midnight that covered the complete east end of the island so far as the banks were concerned, and they were a big help in keeping the area involved covered.

Wilson is now in isolation and the case was brought before the Grand Jury on Wednesday the 25 ^th, which was rather rapid action. Two of our officers, Mr. Christopherson and Mr. Black, who were in charge of the Dock on Monday, were called to testify. I have been unable as yet to determine if they brought forth an indictment, but I don’t think there is much doubt but what they have indicted him.

Wilson had on his person a three-foot length of sash cord and some middleweight wrapping cord, perhaps 25 feet long. No doubt he planned to use this to lash together any pieces of lumber that might be available on the beach.

In going over what transpired that evening with Mr. Willingham, it does not seem that our officers were derelict in their duty, however this hideout points out clearly that we must take further precautions in order to have a officer watching these men at all times. During the course of the day when freight is coming and going, and the dock is a very busy place, it seems easier to watch the men than in a situation such as confronted us at this time. Two of the inmates were in the process of changing clothes getting ready to go into the institution; the inmate mechanic was doing some work around a truck in the garage, while Wilson who usually is a lone wolf type and stays off by himself, apparently was able to scamper under the hole in the fence under cover of the smoke produced by the burning tire.

We have one satisfaction of knowing that our procedure was tight enough to prevent any of these men from getting on the water barge, but we are red-faced in the fact that Wilson was able to elude us for the number of hours that he did.

P. J. MADIGAN

Warden

Wilson remained at Alcatraz until just before its closure in 1963. He was then transferred to the Federal Penitentiary in Atlanta, and only a few months later to Lorton Reformatory in Virginia. In August of 1966 it was documented that he had once more assembled contraband materials for use in another escape attempt. He remained a problematic inmate until his parole on April 5, 1971. Upon his release Wilson went back to the trade of carpentry and returned to Maryland where he had been living prior to his arrest. His parole report states that once he returned to normal civilian life, he seemed to adjust well despite his years of incarceration. A 1972 report read: “Floyd Wilson has led a rather quiet and orderly life since his release on parole. He visits with relatives, enjoys sports, and engage in other reputable pursuits when not working.” Wilson died of natural causes in January of 1974.

An excerpt from a letter written to Warden Blackwell by Floyd Wilson while he was serving time at the Federal Penitentiary in Atlanta. Both Wilson and Blackwell were Alcatraz alumni. Wilson requested that his “good time” be restored, in consideration of his upcoming parole hearing. Floyd displayed a sense of humor in his letter, stating: “I would like to go home this summer if I possibly could – without being shot at, if possible.”  Wilson was paroled in 1971.