When I was young,
the common impression was that “escape from Alcatraz” had always been “Impossible.” The mystique was bouyed by popular films like
1979’s Escape from Alcatraz, and
periodic TV, newspaper or magazine bits about Morris and Anglin’s notorious
Alcatraz jailbreak and disappearance in 1963. The temperature was too cold they said, the
sharks too numerous, the currents and tides too unpredictable; no one could
possibly survive such a swim without freezing to death, getting eaten by sharks
or being swept out to open sea.
Today,
however, thousands of swimmers swim from Alcatraz to San Francisco or Marin
County every year, with the help of modern swimwear technology, an army of
safety boats and lifeguards, and secure in the knowledge that thousands of
others regularly make the same swim and live to tell about it. Events like Escape
from Alcatraz, The San Francisco Triathlon at Alcatraz,
Escape from the Rock, and Sharkfest have taken a bite out of
Alcatraz’s reputation as an un-escape-from-able fortress. A close look at
Alcatraz’s history, however, shows that its reputation had already taken a big
hit during the months before it closed; and may have been largely bluster from
the start.
Although the
federal government still claims that no one ever successfully escaped from
Alcatraz during its three decades as a federal prison, John Paul Scott made it
to San Francisco alive in late 1962:
Scott . . . was near death when he washed ashore at Fort
Point just inside the Golden Gate Bridge and nearly three miles from the prison
. . . . Scott’s spectacular if futile
swim from Alcatraz island destroyed once and for all the official position that
escape from Alcatraz is impossible. And
it added strength to the supposition that other escapers have made it safely to
shore. Escapers such as Frank Lee Morris
and John and Clarence Anglin, who are known to have entered the water last
June. Escapers such as Theodore Cole and
Ralph Roe were last seen Dec. 16, 1937.
These five have never been found.[i]
Alcatraz
federal prison closed for good, four months after Scott’s attempt.
It is a
testament to the human spirit’s ability to forget inconvenient truths that the
myth survived for as long as it did. The
myth had been called into question decades earlier, at the very moment it was
being transferred to the Justice
Department after seventy years as a military prison:
The scheme [(transfer of Alcatraz to the Department of
Justice)] probably was sold to Washington on the strength of the myth that
escape by swimming is impossible because of the currents that swirl around and
around the island as they do in the case of the French Devil’s island off the
Guiana coast.
Legend says that former warden at Alcatraz discouraged
attempts at escape by offering a bathing suit and chance for liberty to each new
arrival. Those who accepted are supposed
to have battled the currents vainly until fished out.
Now that myth has been blown up by the girl swimmer who
stepped off at Alcatraz the other day and reached the mainland without
difficulty.
Madera Tribune (Madera, California),
October 21, 1933, page 2.
While the nation discussed Alcatraz island, in San Francisco
bay, as a place where hardened criminals could be kept by Uncle Sam with no
chance to escape, “Babe” Scott, 17, upset these theories by swimming from the
island to San Francisco in 47 minutes.
Healdsburg Tribune (Healdsburg,
California), October 23, 1933, page 2.
“It was easy,” said Anastalia (Babe) Scott. She swam the one and one-half miles stretch
in 47 minutes.
Her father is an army sergeant stationed on the island, now a
disciplinary barracks, and she had planned to try the swim for years, she said.
Delaware County Daily Times (Chester,
Pennsylvania), October 18, 1933, page 2.
The mere
fact that the myth developed in the first place is surprising, since “Babe”
Scott was not the first person to make the swim; much less the first young
woman. More than two decades earlier,
the Corosio sisters swam out to Alcatraz and back.[ii]
 |
| The San Francisco Call, September 5, 1910, page 8. |
A couple
years later, Tina Ihrmark, the nineteen year-old wife of UC Berkeley’s swimming
coach, successfully swam to Alcatraz; sadly, she was aiming for Alameda:
 |
|
The Sacramento Union, May 20, 1912, page
3.
|
A swimming
club in San Francisco organized out-and-back races to Alcatraz as early as
1897:
 |
| San Francisco Call, June 1, 1897, page 7. |
And a doctor from Alameda swam from Black Point in San Francisco to Oakland in 1882:
 |
|
The Daily Bulletin (Honolulu, Hawaii),
August 24, 1882, page 2.
|
The swim may
have been “easy” for well-trained, highly-conditioned athletes like “Babe”
Scott and Tina Ihrmark, but it was a different story for hardened criminals or young
Army deserters, at night, with no safety boat, and with no opportunity to train
for the swim. Of course, the odds were
against them, and many people died making the attempt, but escape was never
impossible.
Before
Alcatraz became a federal prison, at least twenty-three people successfully
escaped from Alcatraz military prison; several of them by swimming. The first escape from Alcatraz, in 1868, was
a swimmer – and he survived.
Escapes from Alcatraz
To be fair,
escape from Alcatraz was always difficult; and its reputation as a place from
which escape was difficult and potentially deadly was well deserved. During its sixty-five years as a military
prison, no fewer than 51 people “escaped” from Alcatraz one way or the other;
of whom twenty-three were successful, nineteen were recaptured during the
attempt,[iii]
and one was never accounted for. Six men
died making the attempt; all of them swimmers.
Not great odds, I suppose, but perhaps worth it for young men stuck out
on the “Rock”.
The first
escape was in 1868, its first year as an officially designated military prison.[iv] The last successful escape I could document was
in 1924, nearly ten years before it was transferred to the federal prison
system. The escapees included German
POWs from World War I and a convicted deserter from Philippine-American War who
may actually have been more of a hero, and whose escape may have saved him from
a death sentence (President Roosevelt commuted his sentence from death to life
in prison after his escape). The various
means of escape included being mailed out in a box, paddling away in a butter
tub, and simply walking onto a ferry wearing stolen uniforms or carrying forged
orders.
The most
dangerous escapes involved swimming. Of
twenty-seven people involved in the fifteen escape attempts involving swimming,
or floating on improvised floats or rafts, seventeen were recaptured during the
attempt. Of the ten others, three
reached dry land, six died, and one was never accounted for.
Escape was
dangerous – especially for the swimmers – but it wasn’t “impossible.”
The Swimmers
In 1868,
three soldiers named King, Frank and Swaney attempted to swim to freedom from
Alcatraz; only one of them made it – perhaps the first “escape from Alcatraz.” The one who made it had a sense of humor:
Big Swimming. – A San
Francisco dispatch of Aug. 16th says:
A few days since three
soldiers named Swaney, Frank and King, deserted from Alcatraz Island, and
undertook to swim to Lime Point [(at the northern end of the Golden Gate)], a
distance of four miles. The sea was
boisterous, but the extraordinary and unprecedented feat was actually
accomplished by King, in six hours and a half.
Frank was drowned and Swaney was picked up off Fort Point [(at the
southern end of the Golden Gate)], after having been in the water over five
hours. They all started with a small
raft of logs, which they used as buoys.
King wrote from San Jose to the Colonel commanding Alcatraz Island,
announcing his safety and sending his compliments.
Idaho Semi-Weekly World (Idaho City,
Idaho), August 26, 1868, page 4.
In 1900, two
swimmers were less successful:
 |
| San Francisco Call, June 2, 1900, page 11. |
Joseph Caulfield and Michael
Tracy, two military convicts now confined in a dungeon at Alcatraz Island on a
bread and water diet, have just passed through an adventure of attempted escape
full of desperate chances and signalized by an utter disregard for personal
safety. . . . [After escaping onto the roof through an unused chimney,]
Caulfield and Tracy dropped to the ground, dodging the sentries and keeping
well under cover until they reached the bellhouse steps on the south side of
the island. Here they found a board
float which was moored fast. This they
succeeded in cutting adrift. Nothing but
large shingles was at hand, so they boarded the float, using these as paddles.
Out on the dark waters of the
bay the two desperate men worked their way with their improvised paddles and an
opportune float. For several hours they
excerted every effort to work their way toward the city, but they got caught in
an eddying current and could make no headway.
Drenched to the skin, their
strength spent by their arduous labors, they were discovered by a guard at 4
a.m. just as the day was dawning. At the
time they were floating hopelessly in the swirling tide, and a few shots from
Guard Jorgensen wrought a desire on the part of the convicts to return to their
island prison. After a short time the
two men on the float landed and were placed in a dungeon.
In 1906,
prisoners, Arthur Armstrong, George Davis, Thomas Stinnatt and George Brossman
made a similarly futile attempt to paddle away from prison in an old butter vat:
 |
| The San Francisco Call, April 5, 1906, page 1. |
In 1907,
August Stillke, paddling on a wooden plank, nearly made landfall at the Union
Street ferry dock on a wooden plank; before being struck by a ferry boat in the
dark. After his rescue and a few hours
in an emergency hospital; he was sent back to Alcatraz.
 |
| The San Francisco Call, October 23, 1907, page 16. |
In 1927,
John Duckworth and Sam Kilgure swam to within about one mile of the Marin
County shoreline (three miles from Alcatraz) when they were more politely
pulled from the water by another ferry. The
pair were reportedly still “going strong” when they were picked up. When asked why they tried to escape,
Duckworth responded like a bored summer guest changing cottages; “Well, we got
tired of staying on Alcatraz and wanted a change.” Kilgure, a “tough character,” gave a more
situation-appropriate response; “I decided to do or die when I escaped from the
island. . . . [and would] try it again at the first opportunity.”
 |
| Sausalito News, October 8, 1927, page 1. |
In 1920, Charles
Roberts, J. J. Howington and E. R. Hannah made it all of the way to Goat Island
(Yerba Buena Island between San Francisco and Oakland; a distance of more than
three miles), before being picked up by authorities. “The three were clinging to the wreckage of a
raft on which they had made their escape from Alcatraz Island. They were exhausted and were taken to the
emergency hospital.[v]
Two men
floated off on a ladder in 1929 and were picked up in the bay.[vi] In March of 1930, three swimmers swimming
toward Marin County called for help when they foundered in the cold water; they
were rescued by an army launch.[vii]
On June 24,
1930, Jack Allen, 23, was reported missing from Alcatraz. He was never seen again. Officials were unsure whether he made it
ashore or drowned on the way; but he had apparently prepared for the swim like
a real long-distance swimmer. His pants,
left behind on the island, were found to have lard in the pockets. [viii] Long distance swimmers still
smear grease on their bodies to keep the cold water off the body, and to
provide a small degree of thermal protection.
Who knows, maybe he made it.
Harry
Rodgers’ fate, however, is known. In April
1932, he may have been the last person to attempt a water escape from Alcatraz
during its time as a military prison.
Guards saw him enter the water; and watched him slip under the water
about 400 yards from shore. He never
came up.
Others died
too. Patrick O’Leary gave his life to escape prison, despite his elaborate,
stealth raft:
San Francisco, Oct. 10.- The
hungry tides that lap the shores of Alcatraz island make it difficult to escape
from the federal prison there. Patrick
O’Leary knew it, for that is the reputation of the prison the soldier calls
“The rock,” wherever United States soldiers are, but O’Leary made the
attempt. Today he is dead. The slackened ebb left his body today on the
Oakland water front. He had died of
exposure battling with the flood.
Unusual ingenuity and daring
had not availed. O’Leary cut the bottom
from a tool chest, all except one plank.
It made a covered ark, in which he could ride astraddle, his head and
body shielded from observation, his legs free to swim. Two small air-tight kegs, attached at either
side of the chest, served as sponsoons.
The contrivance did not fail,
but the prisoner’s strength did. He was
not sighted and he did not sink, but he could not make headway against the
tide. He was clad only in his
underclothes and the chill of the ocean steadily drained away his vitality.
Sacramento Union, October 11, 1914, page
28.
Claude Ely
died in 1916; but his partner survived – he was picked up on a rock near the
island after foundering in the fog on a drifting log:
San Francisco, February 20. –
Two military prisoners made an attempt to escape from Alcatraz last night by
swimming, an attempt that ended in the death of one of the prisoners and the
surrender of the other.
The Hawaiian Gazette (Honolulu), February
22, 1916, page 5.
A report of
the drowning of an unnamed prisoner in 1921 leaves open the possibility that there
was yet another escape. The report
referred to him as “one of the prisoners who recently escaped from Alcatraz
prison.”[ix] I do not know what happened to the other one.
Not all
swimming escapes were futile. In
addition to prisoner King, who taunted his commanding officer after his escape
in 1868, two others survived the ordeal and successfully escaped in
extraordinary fashion.
Squires
In November 1908, a prisoner named Squires swam to freedom with some unintentional assistance. During his swim from Alcatraz, Squires was picked up by a passing barge as he was being swept out to sea. The story might have ended there, but the barge was en route to Monterey, home to a large Army presidio. The captain of the barge figured he could just as easily deliver the prisoner to authorities in Monterey and still stay on schedule. What could go wrong?
Before the
barge arrived in Monterey, Squires slid into the bay, swam ashore and was never
heard from again.
Wilmore
The most
surprising thing about Leonard Wilmore’s daring swim from Alcatraz to Oakland in
November 1901 is that it may not have been his most dangerous escape. Before he ever arrived in Alcatraz, he had
already made two harrowing escapes under fire during his service in the
Philippine-American War; each time escaping from one army and its death
sentence, and toward another army and another death sentence. His final escape from Alcatraz was not made under
fire, and was not made in the direction of a second death
sentence. The escape from Alcatraz may
even have saved his life.
Leonard Wilmore was born in Philadelphia in 1879; the son of a white doctor and a
half-Black, half-Native American mother.
He attended Missionary High School until the age of 10, when he ran away
from home and eked out a living in the horse-racing business for many years. In 1898, he found himself in Lexington,
Kentucky with no job prospects and on an extended string of bad luck. Just in the nick of time, the
Spanish-American War broke out; he enlisted in the United States Army.
Upon
enlistment, he was assigned to the 25th Infantry Regiment – the
Buffalo Soldiers. After a brief time at Fort
San Carlos, Arizona, he was shipped out to the Philippines, where he was
stationed at “Eba Sanbalos”
(Iba Zambales) on Luzon. This film
clip shows General Burt leading elements
of the 25th Regiment on their return from Mount Arayat (near Iba
Zambales) in 1898. It’s unlikely,
but possible I suppose, that Wilmore might be somewhere in the group.
At Iba
Zambales, Wilmore frequently served as a scout and sniper. He was such a keen shot, and caused so much
damage to the Filipino rebels, that they put a bounty on his head – dead or
alive; which makes it even more remarkable that he would “desert” his Regiment
and join the rebels when he found himself in trouble with the Army. The trouble began, as it often does, with a
game of three-card Monte.
One night, Wilmore
sat down with Privates Hart and Thurston in the Regimental barracks to play
what he believed was a friendly game of three-card Monte. Three-card Monte is a “gambling” game
(usually just a con game) in which players (usually a mark) try to identify
which of three overturned cards is the Queen of Hearts after being shuffled
around by the dealer; like a shell game, but with cards.
Wilmore, a
veteran of the racetrack and likely no stranger to gambling schemes, said that
he thought the game was being played for fun, among friends; not like a real
con as it would normally be played on the street. After Thurston made a “foul lay,” Wilmore
complained:
“We had been playing a friendly
game, and I did not much care whether he had dealt foul or not, but I don’t
like a man to be unsportsmanlike.
A bystander
named Weedy called Wilmore an easy mark, and an argument ensued. Weedy loaded his rifle and moved to point the
gun at Wilmore, and Wilmore drew his pistol in self-defense. Wilmore fired first; killing Weedy before he
could bring his rifle to bear. Another
man drew a sabre and attacked Wilmore from behind; cutting him in the shoulder. Wilmore wheeled around and shot him:
He staggered out on to the
veranda and toppled over the railing to the ground below, dead.
Wilmore ran
from the scene. He did not run away; he
ran straight to General Burt’s office to set the record straight. He was not a murderer; he fired in self
defense. At trial, however, the
witnesses turned against him, and he was sentenced to death for a double-murder.
While
waiting for his conviction to be affirmed, Wilmore made his escape. He broke the latch on his door; knocked down
one guard, and made his way across a three hundred-yard clearing, hoping to
make it into a rice field before he was shot by soldiers pursuing him from
behind. After he disappeared into the
rice field, his training and experience as a scout came in handy. He evaded capture, while staying close to
town, for several days; hoping to steal a boat, go down river, and ultimately
reach China. But his plans changed when
he was surrounded by a band of Filipino soldiers.
The rebel commander
told him that he could not leave the country; and that he would spare his life,
but only if he agreed to join the rebels.
With no better option at hand, Wilmore assented. His loyalty to the cause was not questioned,
in part because they knew of his tenuous status in the American Army. As a result, and because of his military
training and experience, they made him a “captain in their much-officered
army.” But his loyalties had not really changed; he took advantage of his new
position and authority to act as a double-agent, sending valuable intelligence
and rendering other assistance to the Americans:
I became a rebel only in name,
however; in reality I was a spy for the Americans, and was able to help them
even more while supposed to be a deserter and a renegade than I had ever done
while a member of my company.
I did not abuse [my authority
as a rebel officer], however, by doing my countrymen any harm; in fact, I used
every means I could to help them. I was
able to do this through the assistance of an ex-sergeant named Kearney, who had
formerly belonged to my regiment, but had left the army and married a Filipino
woman. She was a native princess or
noblewoman of some kind, and the Filipinos regarded her house as their
head-quarters for hatching treason against the hated Americanos. Kearney, while pretending that he was in
sympathy with the Filipinos, was in reality heart and soul with the
Americans. So was I, although I knew
only too well that I had no hope of receiving any benefits from them. Between us, however, Kearney and I managed to
keep our countrymen posted regarding the various secret expeditions of the
enemy. Often and often I have warned the
Americans of ambuscades and acts of treachery prepared for them by the
Filipinos.
Leonard
Wilmore, “The Convict’s Story,” Wide
World Magazine, Volume 18, Number 104, November 1906, page 169.
After five
months in the rebel army, Wilmore eventually got on their bad side. His commanding officer sentenced him to death
for helping other United States soldiers escape rebel custody. While awaiting execution, he and another American
named Robinson made a mad dash through the jungle; where they were pursued for
several nights, while exchanging fire with their pursuers. Wilmore and Robinson eventually separated;
hoping that it might make their chances better.
When Robinson was recaptured, Wilmore killed the two rebels who had him
in custody, and returned Robinson to his unit.
Wilmore continued on, surrendering to General Burt and the 25th
Regiment in Iba Zambales.
Wilmore’s account
of events, for the most part, appears to be true. Even President Roosevelt believed the
story. On January 3, 1902, Roosevelt signed
an order granting Wilmore clemency, commuting his death sentence to life in
prison, on the strength of recommendations by the Commander of the Department
of the Army and the Secretary of Defense.[x] Roosevelt signed the clemency order six weeks
after Wilmore escaped from Alcatraz – the hard way – by swimming to Oakland.
On the night
of November 16, 1901, after only two weeks at Alcatraz, Wilmore and another
prisoner scrambled over a wall when the guards were not looking. They hid in a shed until nightfall. When darkness came, they found a wooden
ladder (or staircase) to support them during the swim. But shortly after entering the water, the
ladder sank – taking Ernest along with it.
Wilmore made it back to shore on Alcatraz, where he found a board,
reentered the water and emerged hours later, incredibly, in Oakland – a
distance of about six miles.
When Wilmore surfaced in Hawaii two years later and claimed to have swum from Alcatraz to Oakland, an Oakland
newspaper recounted Dr. Riehl’s 1882 swim from Black Point to Oakland for skeptical readers:
A negro convict at Honolulu has
written an account of his adventures before reaching the islands. According to this statement he escaped from
the military prison at Alcatraz and with a companion started to swim to
Oakland. The undertaking was too great
for his companion, who was drowned, but he succeeded in reaching the shore
after being in the water for eight hours, and made good his escape. The fact that he felt attracted toward
Oakland rather than towards San Francisco shows that he must have had some good
still remaining in him, and causes us to feel an unusual interest in his
career. The exploit which he describes
is a very possible one, and recalls a similar one that occurred over the same
course several years ago. When the
steamer Escambia was lost outside the heads in calm weather and a number of her
crew drowned, a well known physician in San Francisco asserted that the loss of
life was unnecessary; that every man, especially if he were connected with the
sea, should be able to swim the four or five miles necessary to reach land. [(Fourteen
people lost their lives when the Escambia went down on June 19, 1882.)]
His statement was challenged
and he agreed to prove that such a thing was possible. Clad in his ordinary clothes he sprang from a
boat, a mile west of Alcatraz, and finally left the water at the end of Oakland
wharf, having been swimming for six hours.
The swimmer was nearly exhausted at the end, as he had been swept far
out off his course by the tide. But his
success in proving his point shows that a convict might make a similar swim and
reach the Oakland shore, especially when freedom was the prize. – Oakland
Enquirer.
The Hawaiian Star, April 1, 1903, page 8
(citing an article published in the Oakland
Chronicle).
Soon after
his escape, Wilmore signed on as a crewmember with the whaling ship,
California, under the name Leonard Palmer.
After seven months cruising Chinese and Japanese waters, he became ill
and was let off the ship at Hokadate, Japan; where he spent two months convalescing
in a hospital. After a short trip to
China, the American Consul at Yokahama arranged transportation for him to
Honolulu, where he arrived in August of 1902.
Weak from sickness, and short of money, he fell in with a gang of
highwaymen to earn some money for passage back to the mainland. He was caught, arrested, convicted, and sent
to prison on Oahu with a twelve year sentence for highway robbery, all under
the “Roger James.” He eventually confessed his true identity
to the warden, but only after Sergeant Bates, the man who had escorted Wilmore to Alcatraz two
years earlier, recognized and identified him.[xi]
Years later,
when Wilmore was released from a state prison in Hawaii after serving time for
highway robbery, Wilmore received what amounted to a de facto pardon; the military authorities did not demand his return to
prison.
Other Escapes
Not everyone
who escaped from Alcatraz were swimmers. But many of them made equally elaborate
or dramatic, if less dangerous, exits from Alcatraz.
Forgery
In the
largest and most successful prison break in Alcatraz’ long history, four
prisoners were escorted from the prison onto a waiting ferry on the strength of
forged release orders:
The officials at army
headquarters are vainly attempting to get a trace of Joseph White, John L.
Moore, Cornelius Stokes (colored) and James Darling (colored), who escaped from
Alcatraz prison a week ago to-day on forged orders remitting their sentences,
which amounted to about two years in each case.
Major Morrow, judge advocate, and Major Williams, assistant adjutant
general, assert that their signatures were forged to the documents.
The San Francisco Call, October 14,
1903, page 14.
The base judge
advocate had neglected to follow a system of double-checks that would otherwise
have exposed the unexpected set of false orders before their release.
Shipped Out
In 1900,
Jesse Adams found a novel way of leaving the island undetected – he had himself
mailed out in a crate – and it worked:
Jesse W. Adams, a military
prisoner confined at Alcatraz, has gained his liberty. He chose a novel means of escape, leaving
Alcatraz as merchandise inclosed in a wooden box. A blx marked “Handle with care” arrived from
Alcatraz on the government boat McDowell on its last trip to the Presidio. It was addressed to the general hospital, and
landed at the wharf preparatory to beign transferred to the hospital
later. The wharfmaster found when he
came to open it that the box had been broken open and was empty. Inquiry at Alcatraz showed that one of the
10-year-term prisoners was missing. How
the box was shipped and how the man effected his escape are a mystery. The box was exceedingly small, being only one
and a half feet wide and three feet high.
Rock Island Argus (Illinois), October 6,
1900, page 4.
Frank Holt
did the same thing a few years later:
 |
| The San Francisco Call, January 12, 1902, page 19. |
Frank Holt, a trusty at
Alcatraz, serving thirteen years for desertion, cleverly escaped from the
island yesterday morning in a large wooden box.
Edward P. Timmons, who was released from Alcatraz about the time that
Holt escaped, is being detained by the local police as an accomplice.
A few weeks
later, a copycat attempt failed. A recently
discharged Army cavalryman from Oswego, New York, tried shipping himself home
when his money was about to run out. He
had had $700 in his pockets when discharged from the Army, but couldn’t find any
steady work. After going to Hawaii
looking for work, he returned to San Francisco and started playing the horses when
his funds got low – which naturally made them get even lower. And no, he wasn’t in F Troop, as you might
expect; he was in A Troop:
Harry M. Prouse, a former
corporal in Troop A, Eleventh Cavalary, imagined that he could travel as
freight in a packing case from this city to Chicago. It was lucky for him that he was discovered
before commencing the journey. He is now
being detained at police headquarters until Captain Seymour, who has interested
himself in his case, can procure proper transportation for him. . . .
He . . . bought a two weeks’
supply of provisions, including tins of sardines, salmon and sausages, some
raisins, a piece of cheese, a demijohn of wine and two pounds of crackers. He also filled two other demijohns with fresh
water. Two of the boards [in the
container] were fixed on the inside with clamps so that Prouse could open them
and make his way out of the packing case when the chance arose.
The
San Francisco Call, January 29, 1902, page 7.
German POWs
In 1917, German
POWs, perhaps civilian merchant seamen caught up in the conflict, were held at
Alcatraz. Two of them went on what may
have been more of a joyride or sightseeing tour than a bona fide escape attempt:
After escaping from internment
on Alcatraz island and cruising about San Francisco bay all morning, Captain C.
B. Rauch and Engineer Lorenzo Lau were found and recaptured 11 o’clock by a
revenue cutter. . . .
After the recapture of the men,
it was announced that all interned German members of steamship crews will be
taken to an eastern camp, and will start tomorrow.
Red Bluff Daily News (Red Bluff,
California), October 17, 1917, page 1.
Stolen Bonds, Cash and Uniforms
The
following year, L’Estrange Bach and Carl Zirker took a more forceful route;
they stole uniforms, bonds and cash (totaling $700) from the trunk of an
officer’s car, and walked onto a government tugboat dressed in the stolen
uniforms.[xii]
Blended in with Visitors
In 1924,
three prisoners made a more brazen exit:
Roy Kennison, Basil Mann and
Edward Lay are still at large after escaping from Alcatraz island military
prison last night.
It is believed they mingled
with the guests at an entertainment and escaped to the mainland on the
visitors’ boat.
Madera Tribune (Madera, California),
October 9, 1924, page 1.
The
“entertainment” that Kennison and Mann used for cover is perhaps one of the
most surprising aspects of life at Alcatraz military prison:
Once a month, with the consent
of the commandant, the prisoners are allowed to give an entertainment.
The soldiers on the island are
charged 10 cents admission and visitors from the city are charged 25
cents. The proceeds go toward buying
odds and ends for the prisoners not in the prison fare.
The San Francisco Call, August 19, 1898,
page 16.
The
prisoners’ “entertainments” had also played a role in a successful three-man
escape twenty-five years earlier.
Stole the Commandant’s Boat
 |
| The San Francisco Call, August 19, 1898, page 16. |
In August
1898, H. R. Beale, John Meredith and Edgar M. Sweeney escaped from Alcatraz in
a small rowboat belonging to the son of Major Kinzie, the commandant of the
prison. They made their escape while
rehearsing in the library for one of those monthly “entertainments.” Although the boat dock was guarded, they
circled back around the entire island, and came up from behind the guard. They were able to get into the boat, launch
it, and get a sizable head-start before they were discovered. They were pursued by a five-oared boat, but
never caught.[xiii]
Multiple Escapes
One man
escaped from Alcatraz not once, but twice.
He was recaptured twice as well; but only after extended periods of
freedom.
In May 1890,
two prisoners stole a rowboat and got a two mile head start before they were
discovered. Although pursued by guards
in a commercial steam-powered ferry (the government’s own steamer was in for
repairs), they got away without being caught.[xiv] One year later, the two were picked up in
Sacramento. Blame it on the booze:
While Bennett was drunk in
Sacramento he betrayed his identity, and was arrested and taken back to
Alcatraz.[xv]
The Record-Union (Sacramento), February
26, 1892, page 1.
 |
| The Morning Call (San Francisco), September 2, 1891, page 3. |
Six months
later, Bennett was up to his old tricks again:
Two prisoners gave the guards
the slip at Alcatraz last night, and made their escape from the island. Their names were Kelly and Bennett, and both
were under sentence for desertion. A few
days ago both pleaded sickness and were sent to the hospital. They were evidently not very ill, as they
made wonderfully quick time in getting out of the way. . . . The alarm-bell was sounded, and in a moment
the island was aroused. Scouts were sent
out in every direction, and in a very short time the rock was entirely
surrounded by soldiers. Up to noon
to-day, however, no trace was discovered of the missing men, and it is presumed
that they got off the island.
The Record-Union (Sacramento,
California), February 26, 1892, page 1.
But he didn’t
stay away for long; and hadn’t gone very far:
 |
| The Morning Call (San Francisco), September 2, 1891, page 3. |
[i] SF Gate, December 17, 1962 (excerpted
from SFGate.com,
December 16, 2012, accessed May 22, 2016).
[ii] The San Francisco Call, September 5,
1910, page 8.
[iii]
In “escapes,” I count escapes and escape attempts for which I could find
contemporary accounts, in which the escapee was able to get off the
island. I did not count reports of
escapes in which the would-be escapees were caught on the island or never got
more than a few yards into the water.
There may be more, perhaps many more, “escapes” or attempts that I
missed because they were not reported, or I have been unable to find the
reports.
[iv] Although
Alcatraz had housed prisoners since at least 1861, “[i]n 1868 the department
commander, Maj. Gen. Henry W. Halleck, renewed the idea of Alcatraz serving as
the place of confinement for all long-time military prisoners in the department
[(Department of the Pacific)], which at that time included California, Nevada,
Oregon and the territories of Arizona, Washington and Idaho. Once again, no specific orders for this
development have yet been unearthd. It
is known that the adjutant general of the army, Brig. Gen. Lorenzo Thomas, was
interested at that time in establishing military prisons and companies of
discipline around the country. A letter
by Engineer Mendell to the commanding officer of Alcatraz in June 1868,
indicates that Mendell had been approached about the feasibility of erecting a
wooden prison on top of the guardhouse.” Erwin Thompson, The Rock: A History of Alcatraz Island, 1847-1972 Historic Resource
Study (this 600 page volume is available as a pdf file from a a link at the
bottom of this
National Park Service webpage.
[v] Red Bluff Daily News (Red Bluff,
California), October 12, 1920.
[vi] Santa Cruz Evening News (Santa Cruz,
California), April 19, 1929.
[vii]
Madera Tribune (Madera, California), March 12, 1930.
[viii]
Santa Cruz Evening News, June 30,
1930, page 1.
[ix] Red Bluff Daily News, March 30, 1921.
[x] Evening Star (Washington DC), January 6,
1902, page 1.
[xi] The Coeur d’Alene Press (Coeur d’Alene,
Idaho), March 7, 1903, page 4.
[xii] Los Angeles Herald, November 18 1918,
page 1.
[xiii]
The San Francisco Call, August 19,
1898, page 16.
[xiv] The Morning Call (San Francisco), May 6,
1890, page 4. The contemporaneous account of the escape says the prisoners were
named Stone and Miller; but two later accounts of the same incident, say that
Bennet, who escaped again two years later, was one of the escapees.
[xv] The Record-Union (Sacramento), February
26, 1892, page 1.
