In the dim early hours of their escape, as a heavy fog stood as a dark curtain blackening the vibrant vistas of the San Francisco shoreline, only the sounds of the ocean were audible. Sadly, the escape ended almost as quickly as it began. As the inmates descended into a barren cove to embark on their mile and a quarter swim to shore, search lights and escape sirens assaulted the silence. An alert guard had discovered the men missing from their cells while conducting a routine count.
As prison officers and searchlights converged over the fog-shrouded cove, hazy human figures plunged into the water to a rush of freedom. The dark of the night and the high tide masked the teeth sharp rocks, which demanded slow and careful passage. After a terse and snubbed warning to halt, officers unleashed a raining hail of gunfire, ending their dream of escape. Young and McCain were found stripped of their clothing and shivering violently from the freezing bay waters. Martin was found in the same condition and bleeding from numerous cuts. He pled for leniency.
Stamphill and Barker fared the worst while unsuccessfully attempting to find cover from behind a rock. Stamphill suffered serious injuries to his lower extremities from the explosive bullet wounds delivered by the officers’ rifles. Barker was found with a bullet wound to the head. Both men were so incapacitated that a small boat was launched to recover them from the waters cove. Barker later died from his bullet wound, and in the prison hospital his last words were recorded by Junior Officer George Hoag, saying: “I’m crazy as hell; I should have never tried it.”
The aftermath of the escape left tensions between some of the inmates at a soaring high. Following his release from isolation—a classification imposed as punishment for the escape attempt—Young fatally stabbed McCain inside the prison Industries building on Alcatraz. The murder resulted from what Young testified during his trial as “a conflict that arose from the failed escape.” Some later alleged that the animosity stirred when McCain announced that he didn’t know how to swim once he reached the water’s edge, with Young ultimately blaming McCain for the plot’s failure. Young’s trial would be become one of the most famous events in Alcatraz history.
Stamphill’s wounds were serious, but not fatal. He was hospitalized for a brief period and then placed in isolation until August 1940. He integrated back into the general population and was given a new work assignment. From this day forward, he would walk a straight line and become a model inmate. He remained in the general population for another ten years before being released from Alcatraz. He finished out his prison sentence at Leavenworth.
Stamphill’s escape, however, was not the story that intrigued me most. During my interview, he closed with a profound story of how he escaped mentally from Alcatraz. Before sharing his very personal story, he prepared me by stating that it was “a lot of sappy bullshit” but it was the truth of what he had dreamed about, and how it contributed to his survival during another ten years on the Rock.
As a result of the injuries suffered during his failed escape, Stamphill made frequent follow up visits to the prison hospital situated above the dining room. During one of his appointments, he covertly slipped into his cuffed sleeve and smuggled out a small empty pharmaceutical bottle used to store medications in the prison pharmacy. He began to fill the bottle with strands of his own hair, along with a small torn piece of paper that only included his name. He recalled that the paper had a mild scent of perfume. A fellow inmate had torn a piece of a letter written by his wife, which had made it past the mail censor. It became an emblematic capsule of terms. Using a dense piece of rubber acquired from a friend working in the mat shop, he tightly corked the bottle to assure a permanent seal. In his cell he conducted mini buoyancy tests by floating the bottle in his toilet and submerging it to assess it whether it could withstand a long toss into the bay and still float.
Clark Howard (left), crime novelist and author of Six Against the Rock, with former Alcatraz inmates Willie Radkay (middle) and Dale Stamphill (right) in 1976 at Radkay’s home in Prescott, Kansas.
On what Stamphill described as a “crisp, clear day” during his walk down the path to the prison industries, he pulled the concealed bottle from under his clothing and threw it with the able skill of a major league baseball player, far over the barbed-wire fence and into the bay waters. He confidently, if not proudly, explained that its fall into the water was no less graceful than a bird’s winged landing. He stated that he slowed his walk, and then looked around to affirm the officers didn’t see the toss. He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see it bobbing in the far distance and safely clear of the rocky shore. He thought to himself that escape had come at last... On that very evening, he claimed a vivid memory. At lights out in the cellhouse, he commenced the first leg of his long private journey. By closing his eyes and dreaming of the bottle’s voyage, he could see farther than he’d ever seen before.
For the next decade, Stamphill alleged that the sealed bottle had become a symbolic method of escape. He would lie in his cell bunk at night, dreaming of how far the bottle traveled and of what exotic places that part of him had traveled to. He became obsessive about studying world geography and reading travel books from the Alcatraz library. Every night for nearly a decade, his escape successful...
Dale’s story stayed with me for nearly twenty years. It represents the painful and fragile string of choices that landed him and so many other inmates on Alcatraz, and their yearning for freedom. Their letters and general correspondence was an important part of the island’s history and couldn’t be left to fade and disappear into the shadows of time.
There is no better insight to the human condition of the inmates than reading their letters, written in their own words. They represent their authentic thoughts and ideas, with many written from inside their small cold cells at Alcatraz and at other prisons. This book offers a glimpse of that experience. Most of these letters were never intended for a mass audience. Some chronicle their hope for life and yearning to get out of prison. Others still show hope when release is a distant reality. Others communicate frustrations with the harsh prison rule and their demands for better conditions. This was all they possessed on Alcatraz: their thoughts, dreams, and hopes for something to change.
This letter, describing alleged horrific prison conditions, was smuggled off of Alcatraz and to the San Francisco Examiner newspaper.
In an effort to stay true to the historical ingredients of these letters, and after months of self debate, I chose to refrain from any significant editing. The grammatical elements remain mostly as originally written. As a final point to reiterate, it is crucial to recognize that my goal of presenting these letters was to only humanize the experience, and not in any way glamour the crimes of these men. It was important to represent this history in its purest form. I felt it was important to present these letters without additional censoring.
As one example, I personally struggled with the racial comments and the associated content produced in letters by Donnis (Donald) Willis, Ralph Roe, and a few others. I felt the comments and opinions in these letters, regardless of the era from which they were written, contained harsh racial comments that were demeaning and spiteful in nature. However, my role was to maintain the historical integrity of the original content without censoring, due to my personal objections to the material.
After spending hours navigating the personal thoughts and letters of these inmates, one can’t help but feel a sense of sadness through the desperation of some of their writings. Even still, there were victories for some who did their time on Alcatraz, and integrated back into society.
It is here where the past collides with the present and the true essence of Alcatraz comes to life.
Alcatraz Island – The History
“Alcatraz is a necessary part of the government’s campaign against predatory crime. Certain types of prisoners are a constant menace. They create an atmosphere of tension and unrest wherever they are confined. They break-down the morale of the more promising inmates and are constantly plotting v
iolence, riots, or escape.... We are looking forward to great things from Alcatraz.”
- Homer Cummings, United States Attorney General, 1934
Tool steel that no file can scratch. Locks that can be opened electronically and mechanically only by two men at separated posts. Forty veteran guards handpicked from other federal prisons, and armed with automatic pistols, rifles, and machine guns. Tear gas. Electric instruments that reveal the presence of hidden pistols or knives on the persons of prisoners or visitors. Barbed-wire entanglements. One and 1/4 miles of water whose current defies all but the strongest swimmer. Penitentiary and US Coast Guard patrol boats. Prison radios that can summon 200 police cars to the shores of San Francisco in five minutes.
This was how Popular Science Magazine introduced the ultimate escape-proof prison to the intrigued public.
From 1934 through 1963, Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary served as America’s most notorious prison. Shrouded by fog and secrecy, it was designed to house the most legendary crime figures; men who tore at the very fabric of American society. These men had pushed their crimes to the outer limits. Designed as a maximum custody, minimum privilege federal prison, Alcatraz was the defining solution to the lawless reign that gripped America during the Prohibition Era. Its reputation for impregnability and harshness was deliberately encouraged by an American government that was intent on a show of strength to discourage criminal activity.
High profile and powerful crime magnates had presented the government with unique confinement dilemma. Gangsters of the era—like archenemies Al Capone and George “Machine Gun” Kelly—were glamorized by the press. The resulting fame and the elite status given to these inmates ultimately created a surge of followers.
Alcatraz was born from the concept of housing public enemies who had resisted reform while incarcerated, and continued to facilitate corruptive activities from within the federal prison system. These high profile criminals would be housed under a single roof and completely isolated from the public eye.
The Federal Bureau of Prisons (BOP) was established in 1930 by President Herbert Hoover as a branch of the Department of Justice (DOJ). In 1933, when the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) was formed under the leadership of Director J. Edgar Hoover, he moved America to wage a public war against society’s enemies.
In an unpublished commentary entitled The Rock of Remorse, former inmate Roy Gardner—who later committed suicide years after his release—recorded his personal views of life as an inmate during the early years on Alcatraz:
The easiest way to get a clear mental picture of Alcatraz is to imagine a large tomb situated on a small island and inhabited by corpses who still have the ability to walk and talk. In other words, a mausoleum holding the living dead. The phrase “the living dead” is in no way an exaggeration, because 75% of the men incarcerated on Alcatraz are doomed to die there, and they know it.
The prison is similar to many other prisons throughout the county, cellblocks, dining room, workshops & etc, but the management of the prison is surely different. Alcatraz was designed to break “hard guys,” and it is surely accomplishing what it was designed for. The writer of this article was until very recently, an inmate of Alcatraz, and my knowledge first-hand.
The system on Alcatraz changes desperate public enemies into listless, lifeless automans, walking around apparently waiting for death to release them and not caring how soon it comes. The breaking of desperate men on that Rock is all mental. There is no brutality or physical violence practiced or permitted by the prison officials, however, the mental torture is much worse than any physical torture could possibly be. Of course, it is necessary if society is to be protected, to break public enemies such as gangsters and snatchers, and the system on Alcatraz is surely clicking 100%
The daylight hours on Alcatraz are not so bad because the prisoners have something to occupy their minds, but the hours between 5PM and 7AM are the hours that seer mans’ souls and break their spirits.
Seventy-five percent of the prisoners there know they will never again experience the rapture of a woman’s kiss. They will never again shake the hand of a true friend. Never again enjoy an hour of freedom.
During the first year of imprisonment they spend many sleepless hours looking at the ceiling and wondering who is kissing her now. Some of them go raving mad and awaken the entire cellblock with their insane screams. Others suffer in silence, and the only indication of their suffering in their bloodshot eyes in the morning.
Prisoners usually refer to those sleepless nights as “pay nights” and they all know what pay nights are, yet I have never heard a pay night adequately described. It seems there are no words that can actually describe those terrible nights. During many years of imprisonment I have experienced many pay nights, yet I am unable to draw a word picture of those nights. Let’s just call them hell-nights and let it go at that.
Most of the doomed men on Alcatraz will die in bed, while others will die under guns of guards or in the icy waters of the San Francisco Bay. The fact that there is no escape leaves death as the only alternative for most of the inmates. Some of them actually realize that fact and linger on and let nature take its course. Watching those hopeless men walking around and existing from day to day is a pitiful sight.
An indescribable something prevails on Alcatraz that is not felt in any other prison. It seems to be a mixture of hopelessness, hatred, self-pity and cowardice. Most of the long timers lose hope after about a year and begin feeling sorry for themselves. The next step is to become suspicious of his fellow prisoners, and then hatred develops. When he gets to that stage he usually sits off by himself and broods, always blaming others for his troubles. If you remind him that he himself is responsible for his trouble, you are liable to have to fight him, because he is usually ready to back up his arguments with his fists.
Of course the men confined there can expect no sympathy from society because 90% of them are habitual criminals, and probably 50% are murders. That type of criminal has forfeited all claims to consideration by society, and theoretically dug his own grave. He would have been much better off had he committed suicide, and let others dig his grave.
It seems that rules governing Alcatraz were designed to dovetail together and focus on the one object, that object being to break desperate men. The rule forbidding radio and newspapers effectually cuts off the prisoners contact with the outside world. The rules governing correspondence are so strict that no public news of any kind can possibly filter through. An example of that censorship occurred with the dirigible Macon (a military airship) broke up. Although it happened on the Pacific Coast we knew nothing of it for 10 days after.
No guard dares tells an inmate that is published in the newspapers. His job wouldn’t be worth a dime if he did incidentally, guards are watched just as closely as the prisoners, and when any news gets into the prison, every effort is made to find the source, and if the source is found that guard joins the ranks of the unemployed.
Alcatraz is the last stop for big time criminals, and there is no chance to detour past it, once the “G” men get their hands on you. Alcatraz will not stop crime, but it has already put an awful crimp in it. The public enemies of 1932 and 1933 are all buried, some dead, some alive on Alcatraz, but buried just the same. A strange condition now prevails in the underworld; there are none who care to assume leadership, as the suicide title of “public enemy.” Public enemy is just another way to spell Alcatraz, but it means the same thing.
In order to discourage or prevent organized resistance, the prisoners are not permitted to assemble in groups of more than three. When four or five get their heads together, it is a bad sign and they get orders to scatter. The dangerous men are all well known to the guards, and when two of them are seen constantly together, talking in low tones, they are either separated or a special watch is placed on them.
Probably the most effective machines ever installed in any prison are the magnetic searchers now in use on Alcatraz. It is impossible to carry a gu
n or knife, or any metal object through that frisker without detection, and the prisoners are sent through four times daily. It is impossible for a prisoner to enter or leave the cellblock without passing through the searcher, and if he has a weapon of any kind concealed on his person he is sunk, because that frisker never misses. Alcatraz is rock solid...
The early origins of Alcatraz date back hundreds of years into early California history. It received its name in 1775 when Spanish explorer Juan Manuel de Ayala charted the San Francisco Bay. He named this tiny windswept island La Isla de los Alcatraces, which translated to Isle of the Pelicans. With its swift currents, craggy cliffs, bleak vegetation struggling for survival, and its stark, harsh landscape, the small uninhabited island had little to offer.
Seventy-two years later in 1847, the US Army took notice of Alcatraz Island for its strategic value as a military fortification.
This photograph is from an early Stereograph, and shows Fortress Alcatraz clearly visible in the distance. The photo was taken by Eadweard Muybridge during the Civil War from the army wharf at Point San Jose. The 15-inch cannon balls seen in the foreground each weighed over 400 pounds and were capable of sinking hostile ships at a distance of three miles. Alcatraz was America’s premier harbor defense post and a symbol of military strength during this era.
Letters from Alcatraz Page 2
