Alcatraz: A Definitive History of the Penitentiary Years Part 7

Prior to his appointment as Warden, Paul Madigan had navigated his way through a variety of positions at Alcatraz. Therefore his perspective was unlike that of any of his predecessors. Madigan had originally transferred to Alcatraz from Leavenworth as a correctional officer. He was well liked by most of the correctional staff at Alcatraz, having been promoted through the ranks, and having served in various appointments including Captain, Lieutenant, and later a.s.sociate Warden. Madigan had a unique and diplomatic approach in his directorship. He possessed the skills of a soft-spoken mediator, and when necessary, he was not afraid to issue unpopular directives to both the staff and the inmate population. Madigan challenged the old regime of Alcatraz. He abolished the solitary confinement bread and water diet, and on one occasion, encouraged inmates in good standing to donate blood to the Irwin Memorial Blood Bank in San Francisco.

Madigan was also credited with preventing the 1941 escape of Joe Cretzer, Sam Shockley, Arnold Kyle and Lloyd Barkdoll. He skillfully talked the inmates into surrendering after he had been tied up and threatened. By the time the other officers were alerted to the escape attempt and had arrived to a.s.sist him, Madigan had already convinced the desperate inmates to give themselves up, and was escorting them up to the Treatment Unit.

Madigan carried the affectionate nickname of "Promising Paul," which was given to him by other officers, since he frequently made promises that would never be fulfilled. Nevertheless, Madigan was considered a great Warden by most of those who worked with him. He was a devout Catholic and attended ma.s.s with the inmates in the prison chapel. He was also credited with adding cigars to the inmates' Christmas gift packages, and creating special holiday meals for the general population. In late 1941, following the escape attempt of Cretzer, Barkdoll, Kyle and Shockley, Madigan was promoted to the post of a.s.sociate Warden at the Terminal Island Federal Correctional Facility in Southern California. He later received another promotion, and transferred to Minnesota. He returned to serve at Alcatraz from 1955 until 1961, and then he accepted a transfer to McNeil Island. Prior to his departure, he would appoint a.s.sociate Warden Blackwell to be his successor.

Warden Olin G. Blackwell: 1961-1963.

The last Warden of Alcatraz, Olin Blackwell. Over his brief term as Warden, he relaxed numerous longstanding strict regulations, including those regarding censorship and visitation limits.

Deputy Director of the Bureau of Prisons Fred T. Wilkinson and Alcatraz Warden Olin Blackwell on March 23, 1963, the day Alcatraz closed.

Warden Blackwell pictured at the wheel of a motorized cart that he used to travel about the island.

The Warden's office, located inside the prison administration area.

Olin Blackwell would become the last Warden of Alcatraz on November 26, 1961. A former rancher from Texas, Blackwell had come to Alcatraz from Lewisburg Federal Penitentiary in Pennsylvania where he had served as a Captain and a.s.sociate Warden. Blackwell was nicknamed "Blackie" and often signed his name as such. He was only forty-six years old when he accepted the position of Warden at Alcatraz. He possessed a softer style than his predecessors in his approach, and was described by officers as being "very warm, with a coy sense of humor." He relaxed many of the strict rules that weighed heavy on the inmates for decades, which included allowing a greater variety of radio programs and relaxing regulations on reading and mail censorship.

During his brief appointment at Alcatraz, Blackwell was faced with a myriad of challenges. The prison was old and starting to show visible signs of structural problems, as well as deterioration of the primary utility systems. The lack of funding led to a reduction of staff, which left critical observation posts unmanned. Some criticized Blackwell for allowing such reductions to occur and many believed that without them, the final two escapes at Alcatraz could have been prevented. Blackwell was generally evasive when responding to these allegations, implying that the escapes had resulted from simple human failures. Blackwell would prepare Alcatraz for its ultimate destiny in 1963.

Family Life.

Despite living next door to the nation's most notorious criminals, children found that growing up on Alcatraz was similar to being raised in any small town, with only a few exceptions. For examples, the children were never allowed to play with toy guns or knives.

Perhaps even more interesting than the prison itself were the families of the officers who resided on Alcatraz. During any given period the island was home to over fifty such families, with nearly one hundred children. The daily life of families on Alcatraz was unique and they were not unaffected by the strict rules that governed island operations. But on reflection, those who lived and grew up on the island have mostly considered it a rare and privileged lifestyle. Despite their own isolation from society and the inherit tensions of crowded living, they found that life on Alcatraz was like residing in a small and very close-knit community. Even more interesting was the fact that there was no crime on the island; no one locked their doors and the residents never carried their house keys. The families were kept fully isolated and fenced off from the prison, though its presence was continually evident.

Officers who resided on the island considered Alcatraz the safest place to raise a family in San Francisco. One former resident commented: "There was no crime in our neighborhood, we knew where all of the criminals were." Pictured here are four children posing atop one of the fortress era Rodman Cannons left on the island.

Family life on Alcatraz was hidden from the public until 1954, when Colliers Magazine published a series of photographs by William Woodfield depicting life behind the curtain.

Two young girls playing with their pet parakeet inside their apartment, located in Building #64. No dogs or cats were allowed as pets. The cellblock is clearly visible through the apartment window. The prison was a constant presence in the lives of both the officers and their families.

One of the most popular games for youngsters was "guards and cons." Toy guns and knives were strictly prohibited in any form, but the children made due using a banana or a stick as a stand-in. Wind sports were also popular. Using a jacket or sheet as a sail and wearing roller-skates, the children could sail across the parade ground when the sometimes-forceful Bay winds blew across the island. There was also a baseball diamond on the cement parade ground, as well as a standard playground area with ocean sand and a tennis court. Although at least one kindergarten cla.s.s was held on the island, there were no schools on Alcatraz and the children would attend cla.s.ses on the mainland, traveling back and forth daily via the prison launch. The Alcatraz children were very popular among their teachers and cla.s.smates. Everyone was interested to hear about what life was like at Alcatraz, and teachers were always encouraging the children to give cla.s.s presentations. Kathryn O'Brien lived at Alcatraz for approximately two years, and fondly recalled: I used to tease my friends and make up stories that worked to my advantage. I would tell them that Machine Gun Kelly waved good-bye to me through the bars that morning, or if one of my friends was getting picked on by a school bully, I'd warn them that I knew a lot of convicts and that they'd better watch it! Of course I didn't really ever come close to the inmates, but it really worked. My friends rarely got picked on.

The fact that the only access to Alcatraz was by boat created special challenges for the residents. Few families owned automobiles, since most shopping was within walking distance of the Van Ness Pier. Fisherman's Wharf was just a short walk, and the special Alcatraz boarding pier also boasted a special waiting room for residents and officers. Since navigation techniques of the era were relatively primitive, heavy fog or rough waters would suspend or delay launch operations, and occasionally a family would get stranded on the mainland.

Alcatraz sponsored several social clubs, including an all-girls club for teenagers called "Just Us Girls," and kids' clubs for the younger residents.

A children's Sunday School cla.s.s.

The small convenience store run by residents inside Building #64.

Alcatraz had its own post office and unique postmark.

Playground equipment built for the officers' children by prison labor at Alcatraz. The cement slide was a favorite among the children, but was finally sc.r.a.pped after the exposed steel at the slide's edge tore a fair share of children's clothing.

Alcatraz featured several recreational facilities for residents, including an indoor handball court, a pool hall, a two-lane bowling alley in the Officers' Club, a soda fountain often manned by off-duty guards, a gymnasium, and a dance hall for island parties.

A teenage Christmas dance held inside the Officer's Club.

Former resident Chuck Stucker recalled that some of his fondest memories were of fishing off Alcatraz as a child.

In August of 1954, Collier's Magazine ran a feature story by Gitta Parker ent.i.tled Children on Alcatraz, describing their unique lifestyle: The children and their parents occupy apartments and cottages dotting a four-acre section on the south tip of Alcatraz. Three hundred feet of distance and a barrier of steel towers, concrete walls, and armed men separate the circle of homes from the prison heights. From their windows, the happy boys and girls of Alcatraz have an unequaled view of one of the world's great panoramas: the breathtaking Golden Gate and the cities perched around the Bay. Much closer at hand, they look down to the bottom of the island and glimpse convicts loading wash from the prison laundry onto barges for delivery to nearby government installations. Otherwise, the only prisoners the children see are the three or four trustees a.s.signed to collect garbage and tend gardens in the residential area.

Although it was uncommon, there were some unavoidable instances when a resident would come in contact with an inmate. One former resident recalled an occasion when he had thrown a ball over a link fence and an inmate pa.s.sed it back a few days later. Another remembered an incident when an inmate was tending a garden and left a small flower bouquet with a perfectly tied ribbon made from a vine on a cement step. The families were instructed that if they should come in contact with an inmate, they were to treat him respectfully, but not engage in conversation. Kathryn O'Brien related one interesting story: "I have a vivid memory inside our apartment located in Building #64. I can remember seeing a small group of inmates chained in handcuffs and leg irons, and were being led from the prison boat to a small bus. My brother and me watched from a window as the inmates took small steps with the chains hampering their movement, and we could hear the guards talking to them. Thinking back, I guess it was kind of scary... I had made one of those colored paper link chain ornaments that I made in crafts for our little Christmas tree. I took it off the tree and had my brother place his hands and feet through the links and marched him around the apartment like he was a convict. I can remember my dad didn't think it was too funny... You couldn't help be influenced by the prison to at least some degree. It was a constant presence. Strangely enough though, my dad never talked about it. Even after he left the job, he always changed the subject when people would ask him questions about Alcatraz."

Gardens flourished on Alcatraz in the moist and rich ocean breeze. Gardening was one of the preferred pastimes among the island residents.

Childhood resident Jackie Burdett is seen here posing next to one of the neighborhood flower gardens in 1938.

The garden located in the Warden's side yard.

Mug shots of inmate and prison gardener Elliott Michener. It is believed that Michener was responsible for introducing many rare and unique botanical varieties to the Alcatraz landscape.

The new apartment buildings under construction in 1941, with San Francisco and the Bay Bridge notably visible in the background.

The new apartment buildings as they appeared in the 1950's.

An aerial photograph with the residential living quarters in prominent view. Note the lawn and garden perimeter of the a.s.sociate Warden and Captain of the Guard duplex (bottom center of the parade ground), and the four officers' cottages (right).

The duplex that housed the a.s.sociate Warden and Caption of the Guards.

Like their neighbors living "up top" in the cellhouse, the families were also subject to firm rules. The residents were not allowed to explore the island, and could only venture into approved non-restricted areas. No dogs or cats were allowed and there were strict curfews. Family members were required to stay at home after 9:00 p.m. on weekdays and after 11:00 p.m. on weekends. If anyone missed the last boat from the mainland, they would be stranded in San Francisco until morning. The families' lives were governed by the boat schedule. There was only one telephone available for island residents to use, though another was added later. There was a post office, and also a small convenience store that carried a very basic variety of household foods and supplies. Phil Bergen would comment about life at Alcatraz: "You never had to worry about someone knocking on your door and trying to sell you a vacuum cleaner, and the parents never worried about their children when they were outside playing. We knew exactly where all of the criminals were. It was a special place to raise a family. I consider my sixteen years at Alcatraz the best years of my life."

The recreational activities available at Alcatraz were plentiful. There were ballet cla.s.ses for the officers' daughters, an indoor handball court, a two-lane bowling alley in the Officers' Club, a soda fountain often manned by off-duty guards, a pool hall, a gymnasium and a dance hall for island parties. There was a women's club, a club for the young adult girls called Just Us Girls (J.U.G.s), and a kids' club for the youngest residents. The most popular activities for the island families were the holiday events. There were Christmas musicals, a special Santa Claus visit, and even shows for Halloween. Special dances were held frequently for both the officers and the teenagers, and talent shows were always a town favorite. During the 1950's the Women's Club printed cookbooks that were advertised in Sunset Magazine. Profits from the book sales help fund the special events. As one resident would remember: "People would buy the cookbooks as gifts just so they could collect the Alcatraz Postmark."

The unique location of Alcatraz also provided residents with a special perk that most men would envy. As former resident Chuck Stucker would recall: "Alcatraz was the best fishing site in San Francisco. " Stucker had many fond childhood memories of fishing with his father, who retired as a Lieutenant, and with an uncle who served as both a Captain and a.s.sociate Warden, as well as with a cousin who worked as an officer. But most unique were his memories of fishing with Warden Madigan's wife, who also enjoyed the sport.

Several family members would also have a very rare opportunity to see behind the secret curtain that veiled the workings of the prison. Before the prison staff returned the motion pictures that were shown to the inmates every two weeks, the families would be taken in a large group into the upstairs theatre to have their turn to watch the films. While waiting in the visiting area before being led upstairs, the residents could peek through the thick bulletproof gla.s.s and get a rare glimpse into the cellhouse.

The Warden's fourteen-room mansion, built during the military period in 1922. It was decorated with beautiful wooden furniture made from black oak by inmates at Fort Leavenworth. James V. Bennett wrote: "Warden Johnston's home on the peak of the rock was like the pilothouse of a ship at anchor in the bay, beneath the cottony clouds. At night I would stand at the guest-room window and listen to the steel doors of the cellblocks clanging open and shut while the guards said to one another, as if they were at sea, 'All's well.'"

A view of the Warden's Spanish-Mission-style mansion from the parade ground.

Island electrician Frank Brunner is pictured here walking from the Warden's residence in an extremely rare San Francisco snowfall.

A photograph showing the prison bus and jeep bearing the Department of Justice seals. The bus was the primary mode of transportation between the cellhouse and the dock for staff and inmates.

The Chief Medical Officer's residence, located next door to the Warden's mansion.

The Warden also lived on the island with his family, occupying a majestic fourteen-room Spanish-Mission style mansion that was located only a few steps from the prison entrance. The mansion had been constructed by military prisoners in 1922 and it featured a spectacular panoramic view of San Francisco as well as its own lush garden. The furnishings were made from beautiful black walnut, which had been constructed by inmates at Leavenworth. The wardens all employed exemplary prisoners known as "pa.s.smen" to cook and clean at the residence, and every thirty minutes these inmates would emerge onto the front porch, where they would stand until they had been counted by an officer who could see them through a prison administration window. James V. Bennett, the Director of the Bureau of Prisons, would later write in his 1970 memoir: Warden Johnston's home on the peak of the rock was like the pilothouse of a ship at anchor in the bay, beneath the cottony clouds. At night I would stand at the guest-room window and listen to the steel doors of the cellblocks clanging open and shut while the guards said to one another, as if they were at sea, "All's well." I spent the evening in Warden Johnston's living room before a cheerful fire in the grate. Whenever a gust of wind blew down the chimney, scattering ashes in the hearth, a white-jacketed houseman entered the room noiselessly, swept the ashes back into the fireplace, and withdrew. He must have been watching all the time.

But there were a few occasions when the cracking sound of gunfire broke the calming rustle of the ocean waves a stark reminder that the surrounding barbwire and chain-linked fencing could not fully isolate residents from the dangers of living inside the gates of the nation's most notorious prison. The sound of the wailing escape siren was a signal much feared by residents, because it could indicate that a loved one was in harm's way. At these times, families were instructed to remain inside their homes until they were notified that the island was secured and safe.

Another favored pastime at Alcatraz was gardening. When the families of the first military inhabitants of Alcatraz put down roots, they planted Victorian-style gardens that would flourish in the seaside climate. Gardening became a popular activity for many of the residents, and some of the plant life introduced by the military families in the 1800's still thrives even today. During the military years, the families held small parties in their lush, Victorian-style gardens. Gardening continued to be a popular pastime through the successive generations of Alcatraz residents. These ranged from Civil War soldier families to gangster era criminals a.s.signed to the various work details, such as inmate Elliott Michener, who reportedly introduced many rare and unique botanical varieties to the Alcatraz landscape. Ultimately, Alcatraz would be home to nearly 145 non-native garden species and flowers such as red-hot pokers and snapdragons carpeted the once barren rock with splendid colors. There were also beautiful rose varieties, as well as poppies and blackberries. There was even a children's rock garden which Phil Bergen established adjacent to the parade ground. Many of the trees planted during the military period still prosper today in the salt-misted air.

Island Transit.

The Warden Johnston served as the island's pa.s.senger launch from 1945 to 1961.

Transit by boat was the only means of access to Alcatraz and was always manned by uniformed officers.

The children of Alcatraz traveled to and from school everyday via the island launch.

A series of photographs showing island residents disembarking at the Van Ness Street Pier.

Candid views inside the prison launch in 1954.

The Warden Johnston was specifically designed and built for ferrying residents, personnel, and inmates to and from Alcatraz. The boat was constructed by prisoners at McNeil Island Penitentiary. The Warden is seen here in dry dock before its launch on June 1, 1945.

The Warden Johnston following her maiden launch on June 20, 1945, in the waters of Puget Sound.

For the correctional officers and their families, the only link to mainland society was by boat. Traveling to and from the island proved challenging and during periods of inclement weather, it was frightening to hear the foghorns of larger vessels closing in, and be unable to see them. Each day the families were ferried back and forth, and this routine became an integral part of their daily lives. The residents were at the mercy of the daily boat schedule, which could be problematic at times. If they missed the boat, they would have to wait another hour for the next scheduled run. In stormy weather it could also be challenging to navigate the gangplank onto a rocking deck. Kathryn O'Brien remembers: I was afraid of the plank falling into the water when the weather was stormy, and I can remember the boat officer grabbing me by the arm and helping me into the boat. The guards always made us feel safe In a poetic reminiscence of his travels aboard the Warden Johnston, former resident Robert Burrill wrote in a letter: The countless adventures going to and from the island are what I remember the best. Waiting in the protective staging area near the water's turbulent edge, we would first hear the bright sound of the Warden's horn announcing the boat's arrival. Excited, we would rise from our benches, gather up our travel bags, and b.u.t.ton up our coats to begin the short walk to the loading dock. There ahead of us, in the choppy waters that lined the adjacent pier, we would first see the Warden Johnston, turning as she approached the dock. With the red and green running lights turned on, the Warden would slow its speed, which caused it to begin a rocking motion up and down, and then it would carefully choose its approach through tidal conditions that were challenging, and always changing. My eyes would go toward the pilot house, adorned with five wood-framed windows that looked like attentive eyes, wide open and focused on the dangerous task at hand. For an instant, the Warden's character would be revealed as the boat came to life. It was a bright, handsome, white-faced, wooden boat; a spirit proud and courageous for all to witness; a bounty, a soul. Then the guard standing above the bow bridges the notion, antic.i.p.ating and holding the gaffing hook on a pole with which he slowly reaches for, then skillfully mates with the hanging docking line; the second guard at the controls spins the pilot wheel and reverses the throttle, kicking up white water and a stream of smoke from the stack while easing the port side slowly, carefully into contact with the rubber tire b.u.mper, while the first guard walks back to tie off the stern. Then the railing hinge would be swung open, signaling the pa.s.sengers on board to debark. The conversations were always friendly, because everybody knew each other. Finally it would be our turn to go down the swaying gangplank amid the cold air blowing up from the water's surface, and the odors of the sea splashing up and under the dock pilings that were textured with barnacles, black tar and the occasional starfish. Being helped on board by the strong, warm hands of a guard, following the pa.s.sengers to the back of the boat, climbing down into the warm main cabin, and sitting on the beautiful wooden benches as the salt water splashed on the windows these are the memories that stay in my mind. Traveling on board the Warden Johnston was like a trip to Disneyland. The moans and vibrations of the engine below our feet, the rocking motion of the boat as he or "she" is put into gear. First she floats away from the pier, often aided by the push of a guard's feet as he hops on board. Then backward away from the dock, a change in direction, and the visual difference of a changing horizon. First away from the adjacent pier, and then the flow of the water, the wake, and a quick view of Alcatraz in the distance, as the Johnston completes its turning maneuvers and departs into the San Francis...o...b..y. Here the wind picks up, and the Johnston begins to pitch in a swell. Salt water sprays the windows, periodically causing the windowpane to wash out of focus. Here the trip would feel like we were running in place, not really moving and then suddenly the island, The Rock would slide into view, and the sensation of motion would return, gliding past the large, majestic green and black rocks, the eucalyptus and bay-leafed trees, and the large black and white warning sign: "Cable Crossing Do Not Moor." Then the stockade buildings would appear, large and strong with a wide staircase leading up diagonally, and then the main guard tower. A gentle reminder that Alcatraz was indeed a prison.

During the island's initial years as a federal penitentiary, the primary vessel for mainland access was a boat named the McDowell, which was approximately fifty feet in length and had a seating capacity of thirty-eight. In May of 1941, planning was commenced to build a boat specifically for Alcatraz. The new vessel was constructed by prisoners at McNeil Island Penitentiary, overseen by professional boat builders Everet Soldin and Woody Woodruff. The boat was completed and launched into service in June of 1945. The Warden Johnston was a sixty-five-foot wooden-framed vessel with a seventeen-foot beam, and it weighed sixty tons. This boat served as the island's pa.s.senger launch from 1945 to 1961. The Warden Johnston made approximately 140,000 trips during its service life. In March of 1961 the island newsletter, the Foghorn, featured a heartfelt parting letter written when the Warden Johnston was retired from service: Farewell to an Old Friend.

Early in the morning one summer's day in 1945, its st.u.r.dy and graceful lines glistening under its recent coating of paint, a newly commissioned launch floated from out the McNeil Island shipyards headed for Alcatraz where it was destined to spend most of its entire nautical career as a pa.s.senger boat between the Island and San Francisco. For 16 years it plied the waters of the Bay, as much a representative of the area as Coit Tower or the Ferry Building or Alcatraz, itself.

Constructed by prison inmate labor following plans drawn by Bureau draftsmen, the launch was named in honor of the late Warden James A. Johnston, the then beloved Chief Magistrate of Alcatraz.

The "Warden Johnston" was more than a vehicle of transportation, it was a way of life, the link to the outside world. It took the children to school, the sick to the hospital, housewives shopping, the light of foot dancing; it brought food, news, mail, visitors, doctors; in short, it became to the residents as indisputably a part of their lives as their toothbrushes. It was used as a freighter by Federal Prison Industries, as a rescue boat to sailors in distress, a gunboat in search of prisoners; it was a link in the transfer and discharge of inmates; it was one of the forces around which local activities revolved.

Now the "Warden Johnston" is gone, a victim of the auctioneer's gavel. Even to the end she transported herself with the same dignity that identified her throughout her reign. And as she rode away from the Alcatraz docks for the last time Thursday, February 16th, the residents began to know the feeling that would be England's if she were ever to lose the "Rock of Gibralter."

A Korean War supply vessel that had been converted into a high-bowed pa.s.senger cruiser replaced the Warden Johnston in 1961, and was christened the Warden Madigan. The name was changed to the Warden Blackwell following the new appointment. In maintaining the continuity of the island's unique society, the warden would always remain as the central authority figure, setting the tone of life on Alcatraz not only for the prisoners and the guards, but for all of the inhabitants.

Strikes and Protests.

The inmates at Alcatraz were not always amenable to the confinement rules enforced by their keepers. During the course of the island's history as a federal penitentiary, there were twenty-four major inmate strikes in protest of the harsh rules. Former inmate Roy Gardner would comment in his 1939 memoir ent.i.tled h.e.l.lcatraz: ... discipline. Rigid, severe, unrelenting. Rules on Alcatraz, like the bars, are steel. Both are inflexible; neither bends.

In January of 1936, nearly one hundred and forty inmates went on strike to protest the rule of silence and the lack of privileges at Alcatraz. As inmates filed from the cellblock to their work a.s.signments, many of them encouraged fellow convicts to help them protest by joining the strike. The tower guards came out onto the catwalks and raised their weapons toward the inmates, who walked defiantly and slowly to their a.s.signments. The prisoners who refused to work were marched back into the cellhouse and locked down in their cells. Then one by one, the inmates were pulled from their cells and given hearings. A small percentage of them chose to return to work, but several were hostile toward the administration, and maintained their stance. The known ringleaders and vocal agitators where escorted to the dungeon cells in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

The following day, kitchen workers joined the strike, forcing the prison staff to take over the kitchen. The inmates who continued their protest were fed only bread and water. Most of the prison population returned to work after only a few days on the reduced diet, but a handful continued to stand their ground. As the strike continued, a group of six inmates who had refused to take a full meal after nearly five days on bread and water were taken the hospital and force-fed with a tube. This was a traumatic experience, and all of the men eventually returned to work.

Over the years, there were a vast mult.i.tude of other strikes and protests, generally all taking aim at the prison regulations and strict confinement practices. When protests occurred inside the cellhouse, the inmates would throw toilet paper or anything else at hand into the cellblock corridors. The inmates would thud their steel-framed bunks onto the floor, drag their tin cups across the bars, and yell at the top of their lungs, thus creating a thunderous and resonating surge of sound. Former Correctional Officer Louis Nelson (nicknamed "Red" by fellow officers),who would later become the Warden of San Quentin, described the noise: It didn't happen too often, but when it did, it was fierce. It sounded similar to standing inside a stadium with the crowd yelling and stomping their feet. The first time I experienced it; I admit that it was a little intimidating. When new inmates would arrive, the rest of the population would let off a little steam and put a little fear into the new fish. It haunted the new inmates for at least a few days.

On average there would be six to ten small-scale riots in the Mess Hall per year, whenever the food quality waned. Phil Bergen recalled that on some occasions the stewards would fail to budget properly and toward the end of the month, they would be forced to serve the same type of meal for days on end. This would provoke the inmates into protests in which they would violently overturn the tables, and pitch food all over the floor. These outbreaks would often cause the officer on the Mess Hall catwalk to punch out windowpanes and take aim at the inmates. The prisoners would then file back to their cells without any further disturbance. In the prison's entire history there were only eighteen major strikes, aside from those incidents that occurred in the Mess Hall.

Famous Inmates.

The concept of using Alcatraz as a maximum-security penitentiary was developed in the 1930's as a response to gangster violence.

When Alcatraz opened as a Federal penitentiary in 1934, the operating premise was to gather the nation's worst offending criminals under one roof, in a strict minimum privilege / maximum security setting, under the securest possible circ.u.mstances. One important principle of this plan was to punish notorious convicts by never allowing them to see their names in print again, and thus deglamorize the gangster mystique. The famous inmates who inhabited Alcatraz during its tenure as a Federal penitentiary included Al Capone, George "Machine Gun" Kelly, and Robert Stroud, the much-publicized "Birdman of Alcatraz," who has been characterized in a number of cla.s.sic books and films. These men and others like them contributed to the mythology of the famous prison, which eventually became an icon of the struggle between the forces of crime and the rule of law in the United States during one of the country's most troubled eras.

Alphonse "Scarface" Capone.

Alphonse "Scarface" Capone.

Al Capone's Alcatraz mug shot photographs. The shot on the bottom left was from Eastern State Penitentiary. The top photo was taken the day of this arrival.

Al "Scarface" Capone, the overlord of the underworld and considered as America's Ace Enemy, is a name which remains indelibly linked with the lore of Alcatraz. This infamous gangster lived to become the best-known symbol of organized crime during the Prohibition Era. In a biography written by Warden James Johnston in 1949, he reminisced about the intensity of public interest surrounding Capone's imprisonment, stating he was continually barraged with letters and questions about "Big Al." Each day newspaper reporters and press agents flooded his office with phone calls, wanting to know every detail, from how Capone liked the weather to what job a.s.signment he was currently working. Al Capone was considered the most powerful criminal figure of the era of gangsters and prohibition. But even with his wide-ranging influence and networks of hit men and corrupt politicians, he couldn't budge the strict regimen of the Rock.

Alphonse Capone was born on January 17, 1899 in Brooklyn, New York, to Gabriele and Teresina Capone. His parents had arrived only five years earlier at Ellis Island from a small village in southern Italy. They had crossed the Atlantic seeking a life of promise, hoping to raise their children in a value-driven society. But America was struggling through hard times, and instead the couple found themselves financially dest.i.tute. Al would be the third of five children. His father Gabriele was a well-liked barber in Brooklyn and his mother Teresina was a devoutly religious homemaker. Life was rough for the Capone family. Struggling to get by on Gabriele's meager salary, they were considered a proud family, but poor by most standards; living with no running water and few furnishings in their small apartment situated above the family's barbershop in Brooklyn.

In the early 1900's the streets of downtown Brooklyn were filled with crime and young Al was exposed to the harsh realities of violence and corruption. He father died when he was only fourteen years of age, and he would drop out of school to join a tough youth gang. One of his early mentors during this period was Johnny Torrio, a prominent New York crime mogul.

Johnny Torrio.

Torrio was an important role model for Al during his youth. The young Capone frequently ran errands for Torrio, and in turn, he was compensated generously. In Lawrence Bergreen's exceptional biography of Capone, the author describes Torrio's influence and mentorship: Torrio was above all, a peacemaker; he had no bodyguard, carried no weapon, and always spoke in soft, measured tones. He considered himself a businessman, not a gang leader, and he conducted his rackets in a businesslike way... From Torrio he [Capone] learned the importance of leading an outwardly respectable life, to segregate his career from his home life, as if maintaining a peaceful, conventional domestic setting somehow excused or legitimized the venality of working in the rackets... It was a form of hypocrisy that was second nature to Johnny Torrio and that he taught Capone to honor.

But despite his early links to organized crime circles, Capone was extremely popular with almost everyone who knew him. He was considered a respectful man, a capable leader and guardian of the families in his neighborhood. He was not a typical ruffian. In the early years, he helped support his family by taking on legitimate employment; once working in a bookbinding factory as well as a pinsetter in a bowling alley.

A Capone "family" gathering in Chicago Heights in 1926. Pictured top, left to right: Jack "Machine Gun" McGurn, Frank "The Enforcer" Nitti, Charley Fischetti, Ralph "Bottles" Capone, Rocco Fischetti. Bottom left to right: Frank La Porte, Capone's G.o.ddaughter Vera Emery, Al Capone, Sam "Golf Bag" Hunt, and Jim Emery.