Archival Ramblings

Ayo Gurkhali!

2011-09-07T14:59:00.014-04:00

In the early years of my bagpiping career, one of my Pipe Majors complained that I was playing so fast that I sounded like a Gurkha. At the time, I had no idea what he meant. He explained that Gurkhas were Nepalese soldiers serving in the British Army and that their pipers were known for playing their music extremely fast. Never having heard of Gurkhas before, I wanted to learn more. So, in the spring of 1990 I wrote a paper about them for my British India history class in college. When I initially gave my topic to my professor, she feared that I would not be able to find any information about them (this was before the advent of the Internet) and that I would have to eventually change my topic. She was wrong and the following is taken from the paper I wrote and for which I received an “A” grade.

Defenders of the Falklands and guardians of Her Majesty the Queen at Buckingham Palace, the Gurkhas of Nepal are the most jovial, loyal and fierce soldiers to serve in the British Army – if not any army – in modern times. The former Kingdom of Nepal, now sadly a republic, is located between northeast India and the mountains of Tibet. The great Himalayas run through Nepal making it a mountainous country with few roads. The terrain has affected the physical appearance of the people. They have a sturdy build with muscular legs and a touch of either Mongolian or Indian features.[1] John Masters, who served in a Gurkha regiment, provides an excellent description of a typical Gurkha’s physical characteristics:

Here he is, facing us. Just over five feet high, he has a low forehead, slanting brown eyes…and a face either hairless or lined by a straggly Mandarin mustache. Sometimes he shaves the black hair all around his skull, but he always leaves a long tuft at the crown, by which he hopes his God will pull him up to heaven when he dies. In response he is expressionless, but he frequently grins…When he speaks he hardly moves his lips or teeth. He gesticulates little, grunts rather than shouts and points with his chin not his hands. He looks you straight in the eye and is not very interested in you unless he knows you well. He’s the world’s best mimic and will use the gift…often to puncture the inflated egos of those who have the privilege of ordering him about…He runs awkwardly on the level, well uphill and on a steep downhill no one on earth can touch him.[2]

To understand the Gurkha fighters, you must first understand the Gurkha people. The Nepalese people as a whole are sometimes referred to as Gurkhas. This is because “the small kingdom of Gurkha, governed by a member of a leading Chetri family, gave the title of Gurkhali – that is, follower of the King of Gurkha – to all of his subjects.”[3] The Gurkhas were originally Indian Rajputs who invaded Nepal circa AD 1748[4] after being driven-out of Rajputana by Islamic invaders. The Gurkha people consist of a number of tribes, clans and castes. When the Rajputs moved into Nepal, “…they brought with them Hinduism which supplanted Buddhism.”[5]

The Hindu society in Nepal developed a system of social organization very similar to the caste system found in India. Of these castes, the Thakur or Chetri caste is the warrior caste. Thakur is the term used on the plains and Chetri, a corruption of Kshatriya, is used in the mountains. Of all the various castes in Nepal, the Thakur/Chetri is the highest in social standing, excluding the Brahmans. The Thakur/Chetri claim royal descent and the kings of Nepal were from this caste. “Very intelligent, smart in appearance, and endowed with the highest military qualities, the Thakur is the beau-ideal of the Gurkha soldier…They make excellent soldiers, a large portion of officers…being Chetris.”[6]

The British first encountered the Gurkha warrior during the Nepalese War of 1814. Bhim Sen Thapa, the Prime Minister of Nepal, looked for an outlet of his warlike energy. After conquering all of present-day Nepal and the surrounding valleys, he began to encroach upon the British territories in Northern Bengal. “From 1804 to 1812 the Gurkhas pushed steadily southward, into British territory, until by the end of that time no fewer than two hundred villages in the fertile Tersi and Tirhut had been annexed.”[7] The Honourable East India Company, the British trading company that ruled the Indian sub-continent until the British Government established the Raj in 1858, had tried to reach some form of mutual agreement with the Gurkhas who were beginning to be a considerable thorn in their side. Nevertheless, the Gurkhas continued to conduct raids into the British territories.

Although the British themselves were foreign invaders, they won the support of the local Indian rulers and Maharajas against the invading Gurkhas. This was due largely to the fact that the British allowed the local princes to remain in power in return for an annual tribute. The Gurkhas, on the other hand, executed the ruling families.[8]

The start of the war with Nepal came about when Umur Sing, the Commander-in-Chief of the Gurkha Army, invaded the British territory of Bhutwal in the province of Oudh in 1813. The administration in Bengal demanded the Gurkas withdraw. Their refusal to do so prompted the Governor-General, Lord Moris, to declare war on 1 November 1814.

During the first part of the war, the British performed pitifully. The first action taken by the British was to seize Kalunga, a hill fortress guarded by roughly 600 Gurkhas. It was here that the British, under Major-General Rullo Gilespie, received their first taste of what the Gurkhas were actually like: “…Although the Gurkha defense was overcome by the British in 1814, it was only after the British had received more than ample demonstration of the Gurkhas’ martial will and capability.”[9] The Gurkha action at Kalunga had earned them the respect of their individual capabilities by the British.

The 1816 Treaty of Sagauli ended the war with Nepal. For the next forty to fifty years, there existed only a shaky friendship between the British and Nepalese governments. However, both sides had developed a deep appreciation of each other’s virtues. While the British learned respect for the Gurkhas’ “martial race” at Kalunga, the Gurkhas received their taste of the British when they encountered one very stubborn Lieutenant:

Lieutenant Frederick Young’s Indian troops fled during a campaign, leaving him surrounded by hostile Gurkhas who asked, ‘Why did you not run away too?’ As history records it, Young replied with proper stiff upper lip: ‘I have not come so far in order to run away.’ Whereupon he sat down in stony-faced composure, prompting an admiring Gurkha to say, ‘We could serve under men like you!’[10]

In accordance with the peace treaty, the Gurkha forces had to relinquish the territories they had conquered over the past 30 years and, in response to Lieutenant Young’s recommendation, “…the Gurkha soldiers who formed the remnants of [Umur] Sing’s forces enlisted in the British Army, being the first Gurkha soldiers to serve under the British flag.[11]

The Gurkahs had distanced themselves from other Indian units in the army of the Raj because of their ethnic and social differences. “Like the Sikhs from the west, the Gurkhas felt a martial affinity with the British soldiers who had bested them…the superb fighting qualities of the Gurkhas…had [caused] a special relationship between the Gurkhas and the British [to emerge].”[12] In fact, in 1886, the Colonel of the 42^nd Regiment Gurkha Light Infantry wanted to eliminate all Indian and Sikh regiments in favor of the Gurkhas![13]

Originally, when the British recruited for the Gurkha regiments, they were not very discriminating as to which clan the recruit belonged. Around the year 1855, the time of Charles Darwin and the British obsession with his theories on various races, the British officers became more selective of whom they recruited. They believed in the theory of the martial races. The martial races included the Pathans, Jats, Dogras, Sikhs and Rajputs of India and the Highland Clans of Nepal – the Gurungs and Magars. These “races” were considered to be “…more military minded and more likely to make good soldiers.”[14] The recruitments were made by officers who had a thorough knowledge “…of every shade of [Gurkha] clan and sect and their qualities as soldiers…Magars and Gurungs from Western Nepal; Rais and Limbus from the east; Puns, Thakurs and Chetris [for their castes]…”[15]

Although Nepal was run along military lines, and the Gurkhas are a so-called martial race, there is a paradoxical fact that “…at heart, the Gurkha is not really warlike. He asks for nothing better than to be left alone and, hardworking peasant that he is, to be allowed to till his fields and mind his herds and flocks in peace.”[16]

The recruits, numbering today around 400 each year, are accepted from only certain altitudes in the Himalayas – between 3,000 and 89,000 feet above sea-level. “Below that are too many men of Indian stock whom the British Army does not want. Above, in the domain of mountain-climbing Sherpa tribes, it is too difficult to get around, although a few Sherpas who seek to join are accepted.”[17]

Applicants come from miles around and retired Gurkha soldiers weed out over 10,000. Eighteen hundred are then taken to camps for final selection. The IQ exams alone reject one out of every two applicants. The remaining are then recruited into the elite Gurkha regiments for an enlistment of fifteen years. For those who rise above the rank of Private, the enlistment is for thirty years.[18]

It is the greatest honor imaginable to be accepted into a Gurkha regiment of the British Army. Some of the recruits would journey for sixteen days and for those who are rejected, it is an even longer trip back to their village. “…There is not only the fatigue of the long trek home to be faced, but also the humiliation of his position when he gets back to his village.

The Gurkha soldiers have a unique relationship with the British Army. The British never occupied nor ruled Nepal yet the Gurkhas have an undying loyalty to their superior officers and to Her Majesty the Queen. Just what makes the Gurkhas treat the British in such a way? Lieutenant Colonel Keith Robinson, a Gurkha brigade officer at the British Embassy in Katmandu says that “‘ Had Nepal been colonized [by the British], we would have had taken the privilege of recruiting troops as a right…Since we’ve always had to ask [them to serve], they’ve kept their self-respect.’”[19]

The relationship of devotion and undying loyalty of the Gurkhas to their British officers is well known. Major W. Brook Northey MC, the author of Land of the Gurkhas once asked a young Gurkha who had been in his regiment and away from home, whether he was homesick. “‘I was terribly so at first…but I am no longer. The regiment has become my second home.’”[20] John Masters goes on to describe the loyalty and mentality of a typical Gurkha soldier:

Perhaps he has been working for eight hours up to his waist in freezing water, helping to build a bridge. Now he has just gone to sleep in a blanket on the stones. Wake him, tell him there’s an emergency, that we must dig a trench. He rolls out with a ‘tee-lo!’ takes a pick or shovel, and starts to dig, joking with the men around him and with the officers. The task is finished in three hours, to the stupefaction of the experts, who said it would take six. We who know him are not surprised, we expected it. He rolls back into his blankets. We wake him again an hour later and tell him someone has blundered, now we are to gird for the assault, and the enemy is numerous and well armed. He stands up, stretches, fixes his bayonet, smiles at us in wry comradeship, and moves forward.[21]

The extent of Gurkha loyalty was not fully known and appreciated until the Great Mutiny in 1857. The Great Mutiny was sparked by rumors that the gun cartridges issued to Indian troops were coated with cow and pork fat. As this was repugnant to both the Hindu and Muslim Seypoys, they revolted. As the Mutiny spread throughout the province of Bengal, the Seypoys became suspect. “Many officers who had sworn that their own men were loyal and would remain so were hacked to death by these same men.”[22]

Lord Canning, the Governor-General obtained the aid of three thousand Gurkha troops from Jung Bahadur, the Nepalese Prime Minister, at Lucknow. The Gurkhas occupied the town, which was occupied by the rebels, “and then swept on through Oudh…thereby preventing any chance of a flank attack on British troops…Success after success attended the [Gurkhas and] the morale and military strength of the rebels throughout the north of the Kingdom of Oudh were completely broken.”[23]

No Gurkha joined the mutiny and they did their best to reassure the British of their support. Their loyalty during the crisis was undying. Mutineers near Bhola attacked Major Charles Reid and the Sirmoor Battalion. The Gurkhas drove off their attack and occupied the village. Of the eighteen prisoners they took, thirteen were convicted and five sentenced to death. These five were Brahmans, and “it was a test of the lower-caste Gurkhas’ loyalty that they did not hesitate to kill them…this refusal to allow religious scruples to interfere with duty has always made the Gurkhas more versatile in British eyes.”[24]

Throughout the Mutiny, the Gurkhas had plenty of opportunities to prove themselves.

‘My little fellows behaved splendidly and were cheered by every European regiment. I may say every eye was upon [us]…the General was anxious to see what the Gurkha could do, and if we were to be trusted. They had doubts about us; but I think they are now satisfied.’[25]

After the Mutiny ended in 1858, and after the loyalty of the Gurkha troops was proven, the Sirmoor Gurkha Battalion was given the battle honor DELHI. This battalion was the one to remain during the entire Siege of Delhi and “there can be no question of the fact that the most distinguished part in the entire siege was played by the Sirmoor Battalion.”[26] Because of their loyalty, as well as the loyalty of all the Gurkha troops, two more battalions were established and the Gurkha Seypoys were officially renamed Riflemen, making them equal to the British battalions.

Ninety years later, the Gurkhas once again played a vital role in helping to maintain order during the last days of the Indian Empire. After the partition of India and Pakistan, the Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs were at each other’s throats.

One of the most frightening aspects of this partition was the failure of the armed forces and the police to maintain order…Mutiny in the Indian Navy…Air Force…and the Indian Army…also among some police forces…Muslim police refused to arrest Muslims and Hindu police refused to arrest Hindus. Only Gurkhas performed their duties, impartially and with humanity…”[27]

To maintain order on the newly created Indo-Pakistani border, Lord Louis Mountbatten, the last Viceroy and first Governor-General of the Dominion of India, established the Punjab Boundary Forces, which included the Gurkhas.[28]

Muslims could not be trusted to guard Hindus and the Hindus could not be trusted to guard the Muslims, while the Sikhs killed the Muslims they were sent to guard. “Only Gurkha battalions could be relied upon.”[29]Although the Gurkhas were Hindu, they dealt impartially with everyone.

Unfortunately, there were not enough Gurkhas to protect all of the convoys between Pakistan and India and to put down all of the riots at the time of independence. Captain W.D. Wells of the 7^th Gurkhas wrote, ‘we were needed everywhere and guarding, patrolling, escorting, investigating went on without stop twenty-four hours a day. There simply were not enough of us to cope with the outbreaks.’[30]

For the first time since 1816, the Gurkhas were involved in a conflict that affected their own interests. No one knew what was to become of the Gurkha regiments once the British left India. The problem that arose was how many troops would transfer to the new Indian National Army. The solution came after a meeting between Field Marshal Montgomery and Prime Minister Nehru on 23 January 1947. Of the twenty-seven battalions in the British Indian Army, only eight went to the departing British Army.[31]

After Independence, individual Gurkhas in the eight battalions ceded to the British Army were given three options: 1) Stay with their battalion; 2) transfer to a battalion that would join the Indian Army; or 3) take his discharge with honor. Surprisingly, many opted to stay in India. “India was familiar [and many] Gurkha families were already there.”[32] Even to this day in the Indian National Army, the Gurkha Regiment’s tradition and customs have been retained. The only changes made were in the British rank titles, medals and honors issued.

The Gurkhas of the British Army played a vital role throughout the history of the Empire, esp

ecially in the service of the Raj. The Gurkhas are the best of the best and possess a loyalty to the Crown, which no other mercenary army (for the Gurkhas are mercenaries) has ever expressed. A study of the Gurkhas is a study of undying loyalty between two unique “races”. They are a fascinating and paradoxical group – both martial and peaceful. To quote one British officer, “‘they’re the best bloody soldiers you ever saw. And so far, thank God, they’re on our side!’”[33]

A post script to my original 1990 paper comes from a June 2, 2011 article by CNN:

Soldier cited for holding off

up to 30 Taliban by himself

http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2011/06/02/soldier-cited-for-holding-off-up-to-30-taliban-by-himself/?hpt=hp_c2 (6/2/2011)

Britain's newest hero is a Nepali.

Queen Elizabeth II on Wednesday awarded Britain's second-highest award for bravery, the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross, to Acting Sgt. Dipprasad Pun of the Royal Gurkha Rifles. While stationed as a lone sentry at a checkpoint in Afghanistan's Helmand province on September 17, Pun fended off an attack by up to 30 Taliban fighters. "There were many Taliban around me," Pun said in an interview with British Forces News. "I thought they are definitely going to kill me. ... I thought before they kill me I have to kill some of them."

During the 15-minute battle, Pun fired more than 400 rounds of ammunition, detonated 17 grenades and a mine and even threw his gun tripod at a Taliban fighter climbing toward his position, according to British Forces News. "He was just about to climb up there and I hit (him) with my tripod and he fell down again," Pun told British Forces News. Pun's actions saved the lives of three fellow soldiers at the checkpoint and were the "bravest seen in his battalion over two hard tours in Afghanistan," according to his medal citation. Pun was not wounded in the firefight.

“That he survived unscathed is simply incredible," his medal citation says. “Throughout Dip’s actions he was under almost constant intense fire. Dip’s courage and gallantry were simply astonishing."

Pun, 31, joined the British military in 2000 and also has served in Bosnia and Kosovo. Like other Gurkhas, Pun is from Nepal. The Gurkhas were incorporated into British forces after their fighting skill impressed the opposition British during the Nepal Wars of 1814 to 1816. As part of the peace treaty ending that conflict, Gurkhas were admitted into East India Company's army and then into the British military. Gurkhas recruited solely in Nepal remain Nepalese citizens during their service. Gurkha unit officers are British.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Nicholson, JBR., The Gurkha Rifles. Osprey Publishing, LTD.: New York, 1974. Page 3.

[2] Masters, John. Bugles and a Tiger: A Volume of Autobiography. Viking Press, New York, 1956. Pages 84-5.

[3] Northey, Brook (Major) MC. The Land of the Gurkhas: Himalayan Kingdom of Nepal. W. Hoffer & Sons, Ltd.: Cambridge, 1975. 0Ppage 42.

[4] Ibid, page 42.

[5] Nicholson, page 3.

[6] Northey, pages 93-94.

[7] Ibid, page 57.

[8] Chant, Christopher. The Illustrated History of an Elite Fighting Force. Blandford Press: Poole, Dorset, England, 1985. Page 11.

[9] Ibid, page 13.

[10] Kaylor, Robert. Enduring Tradition of the Gurkhas. US News & World Report, Vol. 93, No. 10, September 6, 1982. Page 63.

[11] Northey, page 58.

[12] Ibid, page 76.

[13] Farwell, Byron. The Gurkhas. W.W. Norton & Company: New York, 1984. Page 24.

[14] Ibid, page 76.

[15] Bidwell, Shelford. The Chindit War: Stilwell, Wingate and the Campaign in Burma. MacMillan Publishing Company, Inc.: New York, 1979. Page 117.

[16] Kaylor, page 64.

[17] Ibid, page 64.

[18] Northey, page 188.

[19] Northey, page 98.

[20] Northey, page 98.

[21] Masters, page 85.

[22] Chant, page 38.

[23] Ibid, page 40.

[24] Farwell, page 40.

[25] Ibid, page 43.

[26] Chant, page 43.

[27] Farwell, page 46.

[28] Ibid, pages 244-45.

[29] Ibid, pages 240-41.

[30] Ibid, page 248.

[31] Ibid, page 248.

[32] Ibid, pages 249-50.

[33] Newsweek, Vol LIX, No 10. The Best Bloody Soldiers. 5 March 1962. Page 48.

A Reprehensible Affair

2011-05-16T14:10:00.020-04:00

As the New Jersey State Police enters its 90th year, it has almost become commonplace to hear of a State Trooper suing the organization or the Superintendent for any number of reasons. This trend would make some pine for the "good old days", back in the early 20th century when this kind of thing just did not happen. But did the "good old days" ever really exist? How far back would one have to turn the pages of State police history to find when a Trooper first sued the Superintendent for wrongful termination, for example?

Some may guess as far back as the Pagano administration of the 1970s and 1980s. Others a little further back, to the time of national unrest and upheaval in the 1960s. But surely not as far back as the '40s when Schoeffel led the State Police during the Second World War! No, not as far back as that...Further!

The first account of a Trooper suing the Superintendent of the State Police was during the summer of 1924, when the State Police was just over two years old! The case of John J. Manyon v. H. Norman Schwarzkopf was argued before the New Jersey Supreme Court on July 17, 1924, and decided on September 20th of that year. The case stemmed from the dismissal of Corporal John Manyon #62 the previous year.

Very little is known about Corporal Manyon; when he left the State Police he somehow managed to remove his entire personnel file. What is known is that he was born in Ireland and immigrated to the United States when he was eight years old. He was a veteran of the First World War, during which he was gassed. This led to his contracting Tuberculosis and he spent a good amount of time in the Tuberculosis Sanatorium in Glen Gardner, New Jersey. He lived in Arlington, Hudson County and had little contact with his parents and brother who were living in Manhattan at the time.

Manyon enlisted in the New Jersey State Police in September 1921, as a member of the first class. He was assigned badge number 62 and upon graduation on December 5, 1921, he was assigned to Troop "A", somewhere in Burlington County. The Troop Commander at the time was John C. Weinmann. Weinmann was one of "the appointed" - the four men who did not attend the Training School but rather were appointed in 1921 by twenty-five-year-old Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf, the Superintendent and founder of the State Police, to serve as the initial officer corps for the organization.

John Christopher Weinmann was from Trenton, New Jersey when he joined the State Police, but he was born in Pottsville, Pennsylvania in December 1884. He and his family moved to New Jersey when he was just a year old. He was a veteran, having first served in the Cavalry from 1902 to 1904 and later, during World War I, as a Supply Captain in the Infantry. H was married and he and his wife lived on Chancery Street in Trenton, New Jersey. [1]

When Captain Bell resigned as Troop "B" Commander, Captain Weinmann was sent on April 7, 1922 to replace him. [2] The majority of the Troopers in Troop "B", however, did not care much for Captain Weinmann as Troop Commander. They had little or no respect for him, and many felt that Sergeant John Lamb, his subordinate, actually ran the Troop. According to Trooper Howard Dean, "I have heard him contradict the Captains' orders. When the Captain would give an order Sergeant Lamb would say, 'No, we will do it this way.'" [3] It was said that Corporal Manyon would make a good commander of Troop "B" because the majority of the men in the Troop liked him. [4]

Manyon and Weinmann had their first of many run-ins while both were stationed in Troop "A". Manyon was known as an agitator and trouble maker. "In my opinion...I had consistently opposed the element in the Organization which are disrupting it and have constantly stood in their way since I have been in the Organization. They have been trying for over a year to destroy me and didn't even let me alone when I was fighting for my life at Glen Gardner." [5] This opposition, as he called it, eventually caused him to be transferred to Troop "B" - specifically the Washington Sub-Station in Warren County.

Friction between the two men continued in Troop "B". It was most likely fueled on Weinmann's part by a combination of frustration at Manyon's actions and jealousy of his popularity tinged maybe with a little insecurity. Manyon was probably frustrated and even confused that his Troop Commander did not support his over zealousness. Regardless of the root causes of their feud, things got so bad that Lieutenant King J. Powell, the commanding officer of Headquarters Troop in Trenton, was sent on March 9, 1923, to interview Manyon about the issue.

Although the details of any previous incidents are not known, Lieutenant Powell documents the events of March 10, 1923 in interviews he conducted later in the month with all the involved parties. Early that Saturday morning, Troop Commander Captain John Weinmann and the Troop "B" Inspector Corporal James Kelly made their way from Troop Headquarters in Netcong to the boarding house that served as the Washington Sub-Station in Warren County. They were going there to confront the Station Commander, Corporal John Manyon, about several issues that had been annoying the Captain. "There have been no horse patrols out from that station. A boy at the house takes the horse out for exercise. The motorcycle has not been out on patrol. The way Manyon talked to the Colonel when he was up here for inspection made me so mad that I could have torn him to pieces. He is a Bolshevik A-1." [6]

After making a couple of stops at the County Prosecutor's Office in Phillipsburg and at a five-and-ten-cents store, the two Troopers made their way to the Washington Station. The station was a boarding house run by Mrs. Jackson. The Troopers had free use of the kitchen, dining room, living room and the upstairs bedrooms as well as the stables in the back yard.

When Weinmann and Kelly arrived in their Velie, Corporal Manyon and Trooper Thomas Littell were sitting in the dining room. Trooper Littell let them into the living room and then went out back to the stables to check on the horses. "We found Manyon in bedroom slippers and the green sweater he wears." [7]

While the three men stood in the living room, Captain Weinmann "began to upbraid Corporal Manyon." [8] Captain Weinmann "...told him he was doing the same thing as he had done in Burlington County. 'You are starting the same agitation that you started in Burlington. I have held my temper for a year now and I am going to have a show-down with you.'" Weinmann made it clear that he was running the Troop and not Manyon. [9]

Weinmann accused Manyon of antagonizing the Warren County Prosecutor's Office. According to Weinmann's statement, "Mr. Smith, the Prosecutor, said (Manyon) was trying to run his office and (Manyon) was carrying waivers of indictment around with him, having them signed above the Prosecutor's Office." Weinmann also demanded to know why "that son-of-a-bitch Powell" was at the station the night before and why was the Dodge Troop Car not out on patrol? [10]

He further berated Manyon by saying, "...you are a dirty rat, son-of-a-bitch." At this point, Manyon stopped the Captain and asked him to join him upstairs so that the landlady, Mrs. Jackson, who was in the kitchen, would not hear their argument. He also called Trooper Littell in from the stables to serve as a witness. Captain Weinmann, Corporal Manyon, Corporal Kelly and Trooper Littell then went into "the larger of the two rooms occupied by us and we closed the door."

Once behind closed doors, Weinmann verbally landed into Manyon again. "I want to know why that car wasn't out! I want to ask you a lot of questions. I want to tell you what I think of you. You are nothing but a dirty rat and a stool pigeon...all you are good for anyhow is adultery and fornication and stool-pigeon work!" [12]

Not surprisingly, this angered Manyon who told his captain that "'when you speak to me like that you are not speaking as my Troop Commander; you are speaking as Drunken Jack Weinmann. When you say I am a stool pigeon you are lying and you know it!'" [13]

According to Trooper Littell, Corporal Manyon added, "'Now listen, Captain, you are making this too much of a personal matter. I'm not stool-pigeon and if you say so, you are a damned liar. If you want to talk on personal matters like that the only way you can talk to me is out behind the barn.'" [14]

At this point, things got ugly. Manyon had partially turned away from his Captain towards Trooper Littell. "As I turned my head in a half-left face, Captain Weinmann struck me a strong blow in the jaw, raising a lump and splitting my tongue, at the same time showering abuse on me. I turned and clinched with him, striking him an overhand blow with my right hand in his left eye. He fell across the room from the force of the blow on to the bed breaking the spring frame . he dragged me with him as he fell and the situation was that Captain Weinmann was lying on the collapsed bed and I was kneeling [on] him. I clasped his throat with my left hand and held him there." [15]

During the altercation, Manyon said that he saw Corporal Kelly moving towards him so he told Littell, to "'take care of Kelly.'" Later, Kelly asked, "'what [did] you mean when you said 'Littell take care of Kelly,' I can take care of myself!'" and with that he began to take off his coat. Trooper Littell tried to diffuse the situation. "'Now listen, Kelly, we don't want any more violence but if you're looking for something, I'll help you take off your coat!'" Kelly immediately backed down and put his coat back on. [16]

Meanwhile, Manyon refused to let Weinmann up "until I tell you what I think of you." Eventually releasing him, Manyon continued saying that "I won't recognize you any more as Troop Commander. To me you are only 'Bull-Shit Weinmann.' I am going to take this matter up with the Colonel!'" [17]

Corporal Manyon again told Weinmann he would not recognize him as his Troop Commander but looked upon him as a "disorderly drunkard." [18] When Manyon gave his statement to Lieutenant Powell, he immediately accused Weinmann of being drunk. "The moment he entered the room, it was plain that he was drunk, the smell of liquor was on his breath..." [19] Powell pressed him on this. "Are you reasonably sure that he was under the influence of liquor?" "Yes," Manyon replied. "I smelled liquor on his breath and I am not ready to believe that a man [who] acted as he did was sober. He was what I call a very drunken man." [20]

Trooper Littell, in his statement, agreed that Weinmann was under the influence because "'you could smell it all over the room. I didn't know whether it was Kelly or Captain Weinmann so...I leaned over to see if it was Kelly. You could tell very plainly that it was not Kelly.'" [21]

Weinmann denied the accusation - an accusation that had been leveled against him before. "'I take Troopers with me on that account, to stop being framed. He [Manyon] tried the same thing while he was in "A" Troop.'" Weinmann went on to declare, "'I am going to resent that 'being drunk' proposition thing. I am going to put [Manyon] in jail for that...I want this thing brought to a show down. If they make that statement 'drunk' get it down on paper and when he does he is gone.'" [22]

Manyon refused to take orders not only from the Troop Commander but also from Corporal Kelly, the Troop Inspector. '"Corporal Kelly is my junior [and] the very fact that he is in your company would prevent me from taking orders from him even if he was my senior.'" [23]

Manyon then told both Weinmann and Kelly that they had to leave the station, that they had caused enough disturbance and that he would be taking the issue up with Colonel Schwarzkopf. Manyon and Littell left the room but were followed by Weinmann who stormed after them, continuing his ranting; this time complaining that the station's telephone bill was too high. "I told Captain Weinmann that if he did not stop his [verbal] abuse I would knock him down and [I] asked him once more if he was going to leave or not. With that Captain Weinmann and Corporal Kelly left...saying they would be back." [24] By three-thirty, they had returned to Troop Headquarters in Netcong. [25]

About a half hour after the event, Corporal Manyon telephone Major Mark O. Kimberling, the Adjutant and Deputy Superintendent, at Department Headquarters in Trenton. Kimberling was out of the office, so Manyon told Sergeant Brown, who had answered, that it was imperative that he speak with the Major immediately because "Captain Weinmann had been at my station drunk and caused a disturbance." A short while later Kimberling returned the call and Manyon told him all that had happened, and stating that he no longer recognized Weinmann as his Troop Commander because of it. "'Did I do right under the circumstances, Major, and what shall I do?'" he asked. "'Just sit tight and await further instructions from this office,'" came the reply. [26]

At around 9:00 the following morning, the phone rang at the Washington Sub-Station. As Corporal Manyon began to answer, he was cut-off by the voice on the other end. "This is Corporal Kelly talking." he asked to speak to Trooper Gardner whom he told that Corporal Manyon was relieved of duty and that Trooper Raymond was now in charge of the station. [28]

Manyon got back on the phone and told Kelly that any orders sent to the station had to go through him. Kelly's only reply was to once again say that "'you are relived Corporal. You are relieved from command of that station...I tell you, you are relieved!'" [29]

Corporal Manyon immediately called Lieutenant Powell at Headquarters in Trenton and explained the situation. Powell told him that Major Kimberling was aware and was "attending to it." Manyon then called the State House at about 1 PM to try to locate Kimberling. Trooper Wilton answered the call and told him that the Major had gone with Captain Weinmann to see Colonel Schwarzkopf at his home in Newark.

"After waiting all afternoon I called up the Colonel at his home in Newark explaining the situation briefly and asking for orders. The Colonel said that Major Kimberling was handling the situation and I had better report to him." [30]

That Monday, March 12th, Lieutenant Powell was given verbal instructions to conduct an investigation of the events of the previous Saturday. During his interview with Captain Weinmann, he asked, for the sake of the Troop, what did he suggest be done to finally resolve the issues with Manyon? "Get rid of him," Weinmann said. "The Troop was running fine; we never had any trouble until he came up here." [31]

Corporal Kelly, it turned out, was the most difficult witness to interview because he refused to say anything! "I made a statement the other day to the Colonel. I told the Colonel the whole story and that is all I intend to say." Although he was steadfast in his refusal to speak, he did add that, "if there is no action taken in this case, I intend to have a warrant sworn out for [Manyon's] arrest." [32]

Lieutenant Powell left the Washington Station and headed to Phillipsburg where he interviewed Mr. Sylvester C. Smith, Jr., the Prosecutor of Warren County. Powell was surprised to learn that, contrary to Captain Weinmann's accusations - that the Prosecutor had said Corporal Manyon was antagonizing and trying to run his office - Smith said that his only objection was that Manyon "...is a little over-anxious" and "over-industrious." He said that Manyon does not have the "power of elimination" where he can pick and choose the more important crimes to prosecute. Smith said that if Manyon were to lock up everybody he felt that should be, "we would lock up 3/4 of the people" in the county. [33]

While Manyon needed someone to correct him at times, Prosecutor Smith admitted, "that Corporal Manyon has considerable detective ability." Finally, Powell asked Smith outright if it was true that Manyon was trying to run his office to which he replied, "No, he does not." [34]

Later, when Prosecutor Smith gave his official deposition, he reiterated that "Manyon was industrious, that he brought minor matters to my attention as Prosecutor and used a great deal of my time in that way...Manyon is energetic, industrious, and as far as I have been able to learn, a hard worker in his position." [35]

Colonel Schwarzkopf called Corporal Manyon to his office on March 25th and demanded his resignation because he refused to obey an order given to him by Captain Weinmann. Manyon refused to resign. "I consider the demand for my resignation and the circumstances surrounding the demand to be absolutely unjust." He argued that when Weinmann punched him, his official capacity automatically terminated. "I had a perfect right to place him under arrest then and there...that very moment he was a criminal under the laws of our State, having committed an assault upon an officer of the law." [36]

Rather than resign, Manyon demanded a Court Martial, with both a lawyer and stenographer present. "I am not questioning the fair-mindedness of the Colonel or Major Kimberling when I make this request. I merely want the proceedings spread upon the record in order to allow me to exercise my right of an appeal to the courts." [37]

On March 27, 1923, charges of insubordination and disrespect toward a superior officer were preferred against John J. Manyon. The charges specified that,

Corporal John J. Manyon did...at, Washington, NJ, on or
about March 10th, 1923, use insulting, insubordinate and
disrespectful language toward an officer of the New Jersey
State Police, who was then in execution of his office, by
saying to him, 'When you speak to me like that, you are
lying, you are not speaking to me as my Troop
Commander. I will not take an order from you, you are not
my Troop Commander, you are only Drunken Jack
Weinmann, Windy Weinmann, Bull Shit Weinmann, Hot
Air Weinmann, and I will not recognize you as my
Superior Officer' or words to that effect. [38]

Less than a week later, Schwarzkopf issued Special Order Number 34. Effective on April 1st, Captain J.C. Weinmann "...is hereby relieved from command of Troop "B" and is hereby attached to Headquarters Troop...until further notice." Captain Charles H. Schoeffel was placed in command of the Troop in his stead. Corporal John J. Manyon was also "...hereby relieved from duty with Troop "B"...and attached to Headquarters Troop...until further orders." [39]

Manyon's hearing was on April 7th at 10:00 in the morning and was conducted at State Police Headquarters at the State House in Trenton. Schwarzkopf heard the sworn testimony of three witnesses for the prosecution and one for the defense. Francis M. McGee, who stood in for the Attorney General, represented the State Police and Martin P. Devlin represented Corporal Manyon, who was also present. The hearing was public, and the testimony was taken down stenographically as Manyon had requested.

Corporal Manyon was charged with violating a Special Duty of the New Jersey State Police by "refusing to give prompt obedience to all lawful commands as such dities [sic] are set forth in General Order #1, Par. 2, of December 5th, 1921..." [40]

After hearing all of the testimony, Colonel Schwarzkopf concluded that Corporal Manyon had no authority to disobey his Superior Officer when ordered to relinquish his command. Schwarzkopf stated that Manyon should have relinquished his command when the order was given, "subject to later confirmation or rescission from the Adjutant or Colonel." He was not justified in his refusal to obey that order and the order to obey Corporal Kelly." [41]

Schwarzkopf felt that the entire affair was "reprehensible" and that, although he was not at this time commenting or passing judgment on the actions of Captain Weinmann, "I conclude that any impropriety of conduct on his part did not justify Corporal Manyon acting in the manner proven." [42]

In the end, Schwarzkopf found that the charges against Manyon had been "fully proven to be true" and that Corporal Manyon was "guilty as so charged."

I find the cause as charged a just one and that his usefulness
to the Department is at an end and direct the removal from
office in the Department of State Police of Corporal John J.
Manyon. [43]

As he said he would, Manyon filed an appeal with the New Jersey Supreme Court. "I am sure to give the 'Kaiser' [Schwarzkopf] an awful beating in the Supreme Court, and he will have to give me back pay and allowances for the time I have been out. Of course I wouldn't go back, but I can and will beat him." [44]

No longer a Trooper, Manyon was required to turn in his uniform and equipment, however he failed to do so. Major Kimberling proposed that he submit an affidavit to the effect that he lost it. "Of course, I shall do nothing of the kind, for the very good reason that I didn't 'lose' it." In a letter to Major Kimberling, dated May 1, 1923, Manyon explained that when he was relieved of duty and ordered away from his Station on March 30th, his uniform and equipment was left behind intact. He claimed that Mrs. Jackson, the landlady, and the Troopers at the Station last saw it on April 3rd. "I returned to the station on Wed. April 4th. I had two suit cases with me when I came to the station on the 4th to use in packing up my things...There was nothing to pack up when I got there. So no one knows what became of my clothing, equipment, camera, rain coat and documents?" [45]

Manyon wrote that he immediately phoned Kimberling and Sergeant Cunningham, who was temporarily in command at Troop "B" Headquarters in Netcong. He also spoke to Kimberling in person about his missing property. "As soon as Captain Schoeffel took command at Netcong [as Troop Commander], I told him about it...the only reply I ever got to my complaint of the things having been taken was: 'you are responsible for your equipment, Manyon!'"

Manyon continued his "agitation" and "propaganda", as Kimberling referred to it, in another letter dated May 9, 1923:

I have another matter to call to your attention...While I was
stationed at Washington a citizen of the town presented me
with a Harley-Davidson motor cycle and side car, the cycle
in need of some repair, but the side car practically new. I
wrote a Special Report in duplicate on the matter, setting
forth that the machine and side car were presented to the
New Jersey State Police. I have since learned that Sgt.
Cunningham destroyed my Special Report, and he and
[Trooper] Righter converted the cycle to their own use...At the
present time Righter calls this machine his own property...I
wish that you would see that the [motorcycle] is credited to
the State police, or allow me to dispose of it as I see fit --
which certainly would not be to deed it to Cunningham or
Righter. [46]

While Manyon continued his complaints against the State Police, the Warren County Prosecutor's Office had a complaint of its own against Manyon. Prosecutor Sylvester Smith, Jr., submitted a phone bill to Colonel Schwarzkopf in a letter dated May 18, 1923.

Manyon, while still in service, made several telephone calls
from the office of Smith and Smith...total due and owing
$1.80. These calls were charged to our private firm
account. Manyon never paid for these calls. It is a most
reprehensible practice and done without my consent or
permission, and although he was warned by the
stenographers in the office that these charges were against
the Firm account of Smith & Smith, and had nothing to do
with the State. [47]

It would be over a year before the State Supreme Court heard the case of John J. Manyon vs. H. Norman Schwarzkopf. The case was finally argued on July 17, 1924 before Associate Justice Thomas W. Trenchard. Tenchard had been on the bench since 1899. "He was a 'tall, dignified, scholarly looking man with a keen mind and a forceful demeanor.' Noted for his decisiveness, he was a 'stickler for the proprieties' in the courtroom." [48] Martin Devlin continued as Manyon's lawyer and both Francis Mcgee and Attorney General Edward Katzenbach represented the State.

It took Trenchard two months to render his decision and he delivered his opinion on September 20, 1924. After examining the record, and in light of the arguments presented by counsel, Trenchard concluded that the court should not interfere. "Under the statute the Superintendent of the State Police has the power to remove a corporal for sufficient cause, upon charges and after notice and a hearing." He continued that, "in my judgment the prosecutor [Manyon] was charged with conduct justifying his dismissal, and after due notice was duly and fairly tried before the proper authority as requried by the statute and was found guilty upon evidence which formed a rational basis for the judgment against him. The judgment and order of removal were therefore legal, and must be affirmed, with costs." [49]

Meanwhile, on July 30, 1924, twenty-three-year-old Postal Clerk Eugene L. Stack was working his early morning shift at the local post office in East Orange, New Jersey. His duties included meeting the "newspaper train" that carried mail, newspapers and "home-going suburbanites" at the Lackawanna Railroad Station. It was expected that the train would also be carrying at least $50,000 in Federal Reserve notes.

Stack met Train 353 at 4:50 in the morning and, with the help of assistant baggage man Golden B. Treadwell, gathered all of the mailbags onto a cart that he then wheeled into an elevator to take him to the street level. At the same time, they noticed two men jump off the rear of the train as it pulled out of the station.

While Stack wheeled his cart to the elevator, Treadwell walked over to one of the other baggage men to pick up a letter. The two strangers were now making their way up the platform, pretending to be drunk. When they saw Treadwell put the letter in his pocket, they thought he was reaching for a gun. The strangers "opened fire...from a distance of about ten feet. The shots went wild. Stack, in the meantime, leaped into the waiting elevator and stood guard next to his mail. [One of the strangers] fired again but he missed his mark the second time." Two bullets however hit Stack in his right thigh and his right thumb.

"'I backed into the elevator, where I quickly took my revolver from the holster...the men kept coming toward me, one of them following me into the elevator. I got behind the baggage truck. One of them fired low and I returned the shot. He must have fired three or four more times." [50]

The bandits tried to get away. One made it down the stairs to a waiting taxi and escaped. The other, who allegedly fired the first shot, was about to descend the stairs when "...Stack aimed once more and pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced [his] heart [and] he fell down the flight of steps and was picked up dead a few minutes later." [51]

Several local policemen who were going off duty heard the shots and ran towards the train station. They rushed Eugene Stack to the hospital and removed the dead criminal to the morgue. "The slain bandit was first identified by William Bross, a policeman of Orange, New Jersey, who [was] also an ex-member" of the New Jersey State Police. He had heard the commotion and wandered into the morgue simply out of curiosity. He was stunned to discover that the dead man was John J. Manyon, the ex-corporal who had been recently dismissed by Colonel Schwarzkopf.

In Manyon's pockets, the police found $60 "and some loose change, a 14-inch lead pipe, a police whistle and a key similar to that used for police alarm boxes." The editor of the State Police newsletter, the Triangle, wrote that this ordeal was "conclusive proof that the Colonel acted in the proper manner and that he was absolutely positive of the fact that Manyon was not the type of the man for our organization when he made his decision to dismiss him." [52]

The $50,000 that Manyon and his confederate thought was on the train was, in fact, sent on a different train. There was little or nothing of value for Manyon to steal from the train and before the robbery, young Eugene Stack had never fired a pistol. However, an autopsy showed that Manyon was not long for this world anyway; his Tuberculosis had gotten much worse and he would probably have lived only about another six months. [53]

Ironically, John Manyon died in the early morning hours of July 30, 1924, while the State Supreme Court was still deciding his suit against Colonel Schwarzkopf.

NOTES
[1] Weinmann, John C. Application for Commission. August 10, 1921.
[2] New Jersey State Police. Special Order 163. April 7, 1922.
[3] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[4] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[5] Manyon, John J. to Col. H. Norman Schwarzkopf. Refusal to submit resignation. March 26, 1923. Manyon had been gassed during World War I and suffered from acute tuberculosis. He spent time in the Glen Gardner asylum for Tuberculosis patients in 1922.
[6] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[7] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[8] Schwarzkopf, H. Norman. Court Martial Summary. April 10, 1923.
[9] Powell, King. J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[10] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[11] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[12] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[13] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[14] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[15] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[16] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[17] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[18] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[19] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[20] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[21] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[22] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923. In his deposition, Warren County Prosecutor Sylvester Smith, Jr. stated that Captain Weinmann had visited his office and that he “appeared in a very jovial disposition. I smelled liquor on his breath. I cannot swear that he was intoxicated or drunk.” (Smith, Sylvester C. Jr. Affidavit. April 6, 2923).
[23] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[24] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[25] Schwarzkopf, H. Norman. Court Martial Summary. April 10, 1923.
[26] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[27] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[28] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[29] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[30] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[31] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[32] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[33] Powell, King J. Investigation. March 21, 1923.
[34] Smith, Sylvester C. Jr. Affidavit. April 6, 1923.
[35] Manyon, John J. To Col. H. Norman Schwarzkopf. Refusal to submit resignation. March 26, 1923.
[36] Manyon, John J. To Col. H. Norman Schwarzkopf. Refusal to submit resignation. March 26, 1923.
[37] Manyon, John J. To Col. H. Norman Schwarzkopf. Refusal to submit resignation. March 26, 1923.
[38] Kimberling, Mark O. Charges Against Corporal John J. Manyon, New Jersey State Police. March 27, 1923.
[39] New Jersey State Police. Special Order No. 34. March 31, 1923.
[40] Kimberling, Mark O. Letter to M.P. Devlin, Attorney for Cpl. John J. Manyon. April 2, 1923.
[41] Schwarzkopf, H. Norman. Summary of Court Martial. April 10, 1923.
[42] Schwarzkopf, H. Norman. Summary of Court Martial. April 10, 1923.
[43] Schwarzkopf, H. Norman. Summary of Court Martial. April 10, 1923.
[44] Manyon, John J. Letter to Tom [Littell?] April 30, 1923.
[45]Manyon, John J. Letter to Major Mark O. Kimberling. May 1, 1923. The letter continues for almost a whole page with a series of what could best be described as “accusatory questions” before getting back to the topic of his missing uniform.
[46] Manyon, John J. Letter to Mark O. Kimberling. May 9, 1923.
[47] Smith, Sylvester C., Jr. Letter to Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. May 18, 1923.
[48] Falzini, Mark W. Their Fifteen Minutes: Biographical Sketches of the Lindbergh Case. iUniverse, Bloomington, IN., 2008. Page 136.
[49] New Jersey Supreme Court. Manyon v. Schwarzkopf. 100 N.J.L. February Term 1924.
[50] New York Times. Dead Mail Bandit Once State Trooper. August1, 1924.
[51] New York Times. Dead Mail Bandit Once State Trooper. August1, 1924.
[52]Death of Manyon Proves No Mistake in Dismissing Him.” Triangle. Volume 1 Number 5, July 1924, page 2.
[53]“Death of Manyon Proves No Mistake in Dismissing Him.” Triangle. Volume 1 Number 5, July 1924, page 2.

Works Cited
"Dead Mail Bandit Once State Trooper." New York Times [New York] 1 Aug. 1924.

"Death of Manyon Proves No Mistake in Dismissing Him." Triangle 1 (July 1924): 5.

Falzini, Mark W. Their Fifteen Minutes: Biographical Sketches of the Lindbergh Case. New York: IUniverse, 2008.

Kimberling, Mark O. Charges Against Corporal John J. Manyon, New Jersey State Police. 27 Mar. 1923.

Kimberling, Mark O. Letter to M.P. Devlin, Attorney for Cpl. John J. Manyon. 2 Apr. 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Manyon, John J. Letter to Mark O. Kimberling. 1 May 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Manyon, John J. Letter to Mark O. Kimberling. 9 May 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Manyon, John J. Letter to Tom [Littell?]. 30 Apr. 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Manyon, John J. "Refusal to Submit Resignation." Letter to Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. 26 Mar. 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Manyon v. Schwarzkopf. 100 N.J.L. February Term. New Jersey State Supreme Court. 1924.

New Jersey State Police. Special Order 163. 7 Apr. 1922. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

New Jersey State Police. Special Order 34. 31 Mar. 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Powell, King J. Investigation. 21 Mar. 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Schwarzkopf, H. Norman. Court Martial Summary. 10 Apr. 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Smith, Jr, Sylvester C. Affidavit. 6 Apr. 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Smith, Jr, Sylvester C. Letter to Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. 18 May 1923. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

Weinmann, John C. Application for Commission. 10 Aug. 1921. NJ State Police Museum, West Trenton, NJ.

New Jersey State Secret Service

2010-04-29T15:28:00.009-04:00

A frequent question asked of the staff at the New Jersey State Police Museum is about an organization called the New Jersey State Secret Service. The questions usually revolve around their badges - are they legitimate - and, just what is (or was) the New Jersey State Secret Service?

Almost nothing is known about the New Jersey State Secret Service. What is known is that it had absolutely no connection with the New Jersey State Police nor the United States Secret Service. The New Jersey State Secret Service actually was a private detective agency located in north Jersey.

Chief George W. Bier was the operator of the agency. In 1930, his office was based at 319 Twentieth Street in West New York, New Jersey. The Bergen County headquarters of the organization where a gentleman named Fred N. Munroe worked as Deputy Chief was located at 292 Main Street in Hackensack. At one time the office was also located at 278 Ross Avenue in Hackensack.

Fred Munroe worked as a private eye for the New Jersey State Secret Service on a part-time basis. His "day job" was working in the photo-engraving department of the New York Daily News. Apparently, he was a decent detective because on March 19, 1932 "...he arrested two men in Hackensack on a charge of counterfeiting...[he] has a long record of arrests to his credit." (NY Daily News, "News Pix" page 6. April 1932). Deputy Chief Munroe also worked on the Lindbergh Kidnapping Case in March 1932, providing data on various suspects to the New Jersey State Police.

A few years prior to Munroe's his involvement in the Lindbergh Case, Chief Bier was arrested. According to a July 20, 1930 New York Times article, Bier surrendered to authorities at the Hundson County Prosecutor's Office "...in response to a warrant charging him with obtaining money under false pretenses."

Two men identified George Bier as being the distributor of badges inscribed with "New Jersey State Secret Service". Allegedly Bier was selling these badges for more than $150 along "with the promise of immunity of police action."

Michael Thuz and Joseph Hohol, who had been arrested for violation of Prohibition laws, both identified Bier. Thurz claimed that Bier had sold him a New Jersey State Secret Service badge in December 1929 for $150. "Hohol said he had received a badge from Bier for 'favors.'"

As of now, nothing more is known about this private detective agency. How long into the Depression Decade of the 1930s it lasted and how many legitimate cases they investigated continues to be a mystery.

Enter: Jafsie

2010-03-01T11:31:00.000-05:00

Doctor John F. Condon - Jafsie - is one of the greatest enigmas of the Lindbergh Kidnapping Case. The first question asked about him is how did this 71-year-old retired schoolteacher and principal come to be involved as intermediary or "go-between" in the first place? George Waller, in his 1961 book Kidnap, sets the now famous scene in Doctor Condon's house on the evening of March 5th that most subsequent authors have used to relate how he thrust himself into the Lindbergh Case. [1]

There was a family dinner at the Condon home that included his wife, daughter and two sons. Already upset over the kidnapping, the day's news that the Lindberghs had appointed petty mobsters Salvatore Spitale and Irving Bitz as agents to conduct negotiations with the kidnappers "crowned his indignation with outrage." The accompanying editorial in the paper, stating the editors' "shock that the Lindberghs had found it necessary to employ the underworld in an effor to reclaim their child...seemed to be a confession that the United States itself could not do so." [2] This was a disgrace to the zealously patriotic Condon.

Waller's description of the dinner scene continues with Dr. Condon saying to his family that, "by golly Uncle Sam would restore the baby - and he would help!" [3]

It was in the wee hours of the morning of March 7th, that Condon sat up writing his letter to the editor of the Bronx Home News. That letter was to serve as an open letter to the kidnappers in which, as we have been led to believe over the years, Condon was offering his services as go-between as well as offering an additional $1,000 of his own money to the ransom payment.

This is not correct. While he did indeed offer the $1,000, Condon himself never offered his services as "go-between" in the letter that he wrote.

It seems that only two books, The Hand of Hauptmann, by Haring and The Case That Never Dies, by Gardner, get the wording of Condon's real offer correct. This is probably because they went by his actual handwritten letter and not by what was published in the newspaper.

Condon's letter to the editor is divided into two sections. The first is to the editor of the Home News and the second is to the kidnappers. When one reads the letter penned by Condon, "in purple ink...and his elegant Spencerian hand" [4] one realizes that two suggestions are being made to the kidnappers. First, "in addition to the $50,000 offered by the Colonel [Lindbergh], I offer $1,000, which I have saved from my salary..." Second, he is suggesting that, "...the one who handed the Colonel's son out of the window to the man on the ladder...go to a Catholic priest and confess his or her transgression, giving the child unharmed to any priest whom the kidnapper will name." [5] Condon continues, "I stand ready in person at my own expense to go anywhere, alone on land or water to give the kidnapper the extra money, and promise never to utter his or her name to anyone."

Condon made his appeal on behalf of the "mother of the child, for the sake of Him, who suffered at Mount Calvary, before his mother, who suffered anguish and whose heart was pierced with sorrow." Condon said that he was appealing to the "inner soul" of the man or woman, rather than making threats of punishment "for the erring one." "For the sake of his own mother, that he may offer restitution for his crime, I offer all that I could scrape together $1,000, of my own money, so that a loving mother may again have her darling child, so that people will know that the greatest criminal in the world has a bright spot in his heart, and that Colonel Charles A. Lindberg [sic] may know that the American people, of whom, I claim to be one, are grateful for the honor that he bestowed upon the United States by his pluck and daring."

In the first section of his bombastic epistle, Condon explains to the editor that he has been following his columns "since the pioneer days" and was asking the editor "to go even beyond the realm of 'journalism' , into speculative philosophy for the benefit of Colonel Charles A. Lindberg's [sic] --kid-- child. [sic]" He emphasizes that he has "never betrayed a confidence." He further explains that he is writing, "with a view to assisting the brave Colonel, and his devoted wife Mrs. Lindberg [sic] to bring back to her bosom the tender offspring, with busting arms around her neck, with his little fingers causing that joy, which offers no parallel in the world and which only a mother can experience, I make an offer to the kidnappers, with instruction as to how to proceed to restore the beautiful baby to its mother's arms."

After reading the text of Condon's original letter, most of which has been excerpted above, one may wonder how it came to be that Condon "offered his services" as go-between and how so many authors could get his offer wrong. There is absolutely no offer to be a "go-between". He only suggests that the kidnappers turn the baby over to a Catholic priest and after doing so, he would go anywhere to pay them the additional $1,000 he was offering of his own money.

It appears that the alteration is the fault of Harry Goodwin [6] or Gregory Coleman, the editors of the Bronx Home News. The editor re-worked Condon's letter, using only excerpts taken out of context to support the editor's interpretation of Condon's intentions. The following is what actually appeared in the newspaper. It is taken from a blurry copy, so not all of the words are clear. The italicized words are those that actually came from Condon's letter; the rest are the words of the editor used to change the meaning of Condon's offer:

DR. JOHN F. CONDON MAKES OFFER OF $1,000 TO KIDNAPPERS FOR
RETURN OF LINDBERGH BABY

An offer to act as 'go-between' on negotiations for the return of 20 month-old Charles Augustus Lindbergh, Jr. with the promise of absolute secrecy as to the identity of the kidnappers and an additional $1,000 to the ransom which has been arranged by Col. Charles A. Lindbergh, was made today by Dr. John F. Condon, 2974 Decatur Ave., near 201st St., educator, author and raconteur. The added ransom represents the major portion of Dr. Condon's savings yet he asserted that he is willing to part with it in order to restore the child to his anguished parents. In his appeal to the abductors, Dr. Condon said, ' I offer all that I can scrape together so that a loving mother may again have the child and that Col. Lindbergh may know that the American people are grateful for the honor that he bestowed upon them by his pluck and daring."

PROMISES UTMOST SECRECY

'Let the kidnappers know that no testimony of mine, or coming from me will be used against them. I offer $1,000 which I have saved from my salary as additional to the suggested ransom of $50,000 which is said to have been arranged by Col. Lindbergh. I stand ready at my own expense to go anywhere, alone, to give the kidnappers the extra money and promise never to utter his name to any person. If this is agreeable to them, I ask the kidnappers to go to any Catholic priest and return the child unharmed with the knowledge that any priest must hold inviolate any statement which may be made by the kidnappers.'

WAS TEACHER 48 YEARS

Dr. Condon is one of the best known educators in the Bronx. He retired in 1930 after 48 years as a school teacher and since then has devoted much of his time to giving lectures at Fordham University. In offering to act as 'go-between', in negotiations for the return of the Lindbergh baby, Dr. Condon said that he was doing so on his own initiative and would be responsible to no person for information which he might obtain from the abductors.

Condon apparently supported the alterations. While one might imagine his shock upon reading what was published, there is no record of him decrying the fact that he was now seen as offering his services as the go-between. He even writes in his book, Jafsie Tells All! that, "in announcing my offer to act as intermediary, I was attempting to put into practice that resolution 'to help anyone in distress.'" [7] He is never asked about this in his questioning by the police in 1932. He was only asked if it was true that he was offering $1,000. Even in his book Condon misconstrues his own letter. For example, he writes on page 18:

I offer $1,000 which I have saved from my salary as
additional to the suggested ransom of $50,000 which is
said to have been demanded of Col. Lindbergh. I stand
ready at my own expense to go anywhere, alone, to give the
kidnapper the extra money and promise never to utter his
name to any person.

In the next sentence he writes:

If this is not agreeable, then I ask the kidnappers to go to
any Catholic priest and return the child unharmed, with the
knowledge that any priest must hold inviolate any statement
which may be made by the kidnappers.

Although not explicitly written, this has now become an "either/or" offer. Condon does not come right out and say in the first paragraph that the kidnappers are to give him the child in return for $1,000, however the next paragraph sure implies it: "If this is not agreeable, then...go to any Catholic priest and return the child unharmed..."

Sidney Whipple, author of The Lindbergh Case: The Trial of Bruno Richard Hauptmann writes that, "[this] was not the first such offer that had been made by public-spirited citizens. John Grier Hibben, President of Princeton University, Warden Lewis Lawes of Sing Sing prison, Dudley Field Malone, noted New York lawyer, and many others had offered to act as intermediaries, always upon a pledge that no harm would befall the kidnappers. Dr. Condon was in good and respectable company." It should be remembered, too, that at the time of Dr. Condon's letter, Colonel Henry Breckenridge, Lindbergh's attorney and confidant, was already serving as intermediary - apparently appointed by the kidnappers since they chose to send the fifth ransom note directly to his office in Manhattan.

All of this begs the questions, why did the editor completely change the published version of Condon's letter? Did Condon approve of this change or did he just "run with it" after the fact? And, more importantly, with all of the other go-between offers, why go with Condon? Condon claims that Cemetery John, a member of the alleged "kidnap gang" that he met with in Woodlawn Cemetery, told him that one of the gang members knew Condon. Would that not make the negotiations with him all the more dangerous? If true, would not the person who knew him also know about his unpredictable and publicity seeking personality? Is that the kind of intermediary a kidnap gang would want?

Or, did the editor of the Bronx Home News manipulate Condon and capitalize on his known huge ego? Who was it who distorted Condon's letter? The Bronx Home News. Who benefited from Condon's involvement? The Bronx Home News. They now had the inside scoop! They already had a relationship with Condon and Gregory Coleman of the paper was with Condon on a regular basis. Could they have goaded him into writing the letter to the editor (that they then doctored) or could it have been a happy coincidence and the editor seized on the opportunity? Could the most famous "go-between" in history be a product of a newspaper's attempt at scooping their competition?

Could it be that simple?

__________________________
1 George Waller. Kidnap: The Story of the Lindbergh Case. Dial Press, New York. 1961. this scene appears to be based on Condon's description set forth in Jafsie Tells All!

2 Waller, pg. 30.

3 Waller, pg. 30.

4 Waller, pg. 31.

5 Condon also offers $1,000 "for anyone, who can prove to my satisfaction, in the history of the world where a Catholic priest has ever betrayed the screts of the Confessional."

6 Harry Goodwin was the editor "who had improved with a blue pencil the wording of many of my little stories." Greogry F. Coleman was his assistant. The owner and publisher of the paper, James O'Flaherty, was a long time friend of Condon's with whom he played baseball.

7 Jafsie Tells All! pg. 19.

Snake Bite!

2009-12-01T00:01:00.012-05:00

A photograph on page 50 of the New Jersey State Police 75^th Anniversary Year History pictorial book shows Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf shaking hands with Governor A. Harry Moore. The caption reads, “1926 – Reappointment for 2^nd term as Superintendent Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf #1 with Gov. A. Harry Moore.” This, it turns out, is incorrect.

While the photo does indeed show New Jersey Governor Moore and State Police Superintendent H. Norman Schwarzkopf, the date and event are not accurately described. The photograph is actually one of two known extant photographs taken on January 18, 1928 at an award ceremony for Troopers Charles Schwartz #262 and James McCormick #225. They, along with Keeper James Quigley of the Bronx Zoological Garden, received medals of valor from the Governor.

The three men earned the medal of valor when they saved the life of Titusville, New Jersey resident Louis Guarniere. Mr. Guarniere, who had been bitten by a rattlesnake, was near death and the only anti-venom serum available was over 80 miles away at the Bronx Zoo.

The State Troopers raced to the New York border where Zookeeper James Quigley met them with the antidote. The Troopers then sped across the State on their motorcycles “at a dangerous speed” through heavy traffic with the life saving serum to St. Francis Hospital in Trenton. The doctors administered the serum and Mr. Guarniere made a full recovery.

Governor Moore praised the Troopers, declaring that he was “proud of the State Police of New Jersey” and that he felt “that the State is safe in their hands because they embody all of the finest things that New Jersey stands for.”[1]

During the 1920s and 1930s, and even into the 1940s, New Jersey was still a very rural State and bites by these deadly vipers were not too uncommon. The State Police even received training in their Academy on how to deal with snakes and, in 1930, the State Police provided supplies of “snake serum” to hospitals and pharmacies in 23 communities around the State.[2]

Even with the availability of the serum throughout the State, the Troopers still had to come to the rescue of some snakebite victims. For example, in August 1934, Sergeant John Crawford #256 “traveled forty times on a motorcycle in less than forty-five minutes” to deliver serum to the Paul Kimball Hospital in Lakewood. Twenty-two-year-old Eugene Beyer was walking through a field near his Lakewood home when he was bitten in the leg by a rattlesnake. His condition was not as serious as Mr. Guarniere’s – after he was bitten, he “walked to his automobile and drove to the hospital where he received emergency treatment until the serum arrived.”[3]

Three years later, the State Police once again had to rush serum to a victim of snakebite. In August 1937, Troopers “raced fourteen and a half miles in fifteen minutes from the Netcong barracks to Newtown Memorial Hospital.”[4] Ralph Schmidt, a 16-year-old Boy Scout was in critical condition after having been bitten in the leg by a rattlesnake near Camp Mohican in Blairstown, New Jersey.

Although rattlesnakes are usually thought of as being found only in the desert southwest, the Timber Rattlesnake (Crotalus horridus) is one of two deadly snakes that are native to New Jersey, the other being the infamous Northern Copperhead (Agkistrodon contorix mokasen).[5]

The Timber Rattlesnake was at one time thriving throughout New Jersey. However, a loss of habitat and “wanton killings” has reduced its population to the point that it has been listed by the State of New Jersey as an endangered species.[6]

[1] New York Times. Jersey Troopers Get Valor Medals. January 19, 1928.

[2] New York Times. Jersey Gets Snake Serum. February 11, 1930.

[3] New York Times. Rush Snake Serum to Man. August 10, 1934.

[4] New York Times. Serum Rushed to Snake Victim. August 7, 1937.

[5] http://state.nj.us/dep/fgw/ensp/pdf/snakes.pdf as of November 25, 2009.

[6] http://state.nj.us/dep/fgw/ensp/pdf/end-thrtened/timbrrattler.pdf as of November 25, 2009.

Biker Chick?

2009-10-01T00:01:00.001-04:00

How does one begin to write an article about tattooing chickens? After all, it is a rather unusual topic and as such there is not a lot of information about the subject. When the New Jersey State Police was established in 1921, the tattooing of chickens, and other poultry, was not part of their mandate. Back then, during the Prohibition Era, they were more concerned with enforcing traffic laws and chasing down rum runners. By the time Prohibition had ended in the early 1930s, the State Police was facing another problem: the Great Depression.

The Depression “…found many city families quitting the metropolitan areas for poultry raising.”[1] Desperate to find ways to feed their families, poultry farming was one of the easiest and least expensive options. But the rise in the number of poultry farmers led to a rise in the number of poultry thieves.

In 1930, the State Police made 65 arrests for stolen fowl. By 1932 that number had more than tripled with 204 arrests.[2] That year saw more arrests for stolen poultry than there were for stolen cars. “Gangs of chicken thieves organized like bootleggers and gangsters, stealing truckloads of fowl at a time. Sulfur candles were quietly set in chicken coops. Then the thieves would wait until the fumes slowly knocked out the chickens…the raiders just loaded the doped fowls on trucks.”[3]

Beginning around the turn of the century, before there even was a State Police force in New Jersey, rural communities had begun to organize Vigilante Societies. “Their main purpose was to organize local citizens and empower them to pursue those suspected of stealing horses, mules, livestock, wagons and other personal property. $100 rewards were posted for the capture of chicken thieves.”[4]

It was time for the State Police to step in try to come up with a solution to the poultry problem. It was the Grange, after all, that had pushed for the creation of the State Police in 1921 because the local city police and county sheriffs could not adequately protect the rural areas of the State. In 1933 State Police Superintendent Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf, called together Lieutenant Walter Coughlin and two Federal/State farm experts, Wallace Moreland and J.C. Taylor, and they developed the idea of tattooing chickens. Actually, it was not just chickens that were tattooed. Pigeons, geese, turkeys, ducks, and guinea hens – any poultry kept by farmers were eligible for the tattoo.

Tattooing for identification was not a new idea. “Tattoos have been used as form of identification for centuries. One of the earliest examples of this is with the Maori of New Zealand. Lacking a written language, the Maori would use their facial tattoos, Moko, as identification…Tattooing or other body marking has been used to identify criminals for thousands of years. Branding of undesirables can be dated back to the ancient Egyptian and was common practice among the Greeks and Romans.”[5]

On farms, branding had been the common form of identification, however it is difficult to brand a bird. “In the place of the old-fashioned branding iron, a trick punch that looks something like a street-car conductor’s marks the chickens on their wings.”[6] This made it easy to identify stolen property.

It should be noted that it was not the State Police that did the actual tattooing. That was the responsibility of the farmer. The State Police only maintained the registry of tattoos. “The New Jersey State Police established the first public registry for tattooed poultry”[7] and this registry had to be maintained somehow. Two years earlier, Chapter 183, Laws of 1931 established the License Bureau within the Department of State Police. This bureau was responsible for the licensing of private detectives as well as handling applications for railroad police, firearms and beginning in 1933, poultry tattoos.[8]

According to the Twelfth Annual Report (1933), applications for the registration of tattoo marks for the identification of poultry were to be sent directly to State Police Headquarters in Trenton by the farmers. The information on the application included the name of the farmer and the name of his farm, the farm’s address, the breed of chickens raised by him and the average number of chickens normally maintained.

Upon receipt of the application, the official registry number, preceded by the letter designation for the county in which the poultry farm is located is sent to the poultry man making application and thereafter he may officially use that number in tattooing all of his poultry. Where turkeys, ducks or geese are also maintained on the same poultry farm, it will not be necessary to obtain a second registry number for such fowl, but it will be necessary in applying for the registry number to include in the application the approximate number of each of these fowl normally maintained.[9]

In the first year the registry was maintained, 85 registrations were issued and 84,759 birds were tattooed. The largest number of registrations and tattooing occurred in1941 when 815 registration numbers were issued and 792,898 birds received tattoos.

The poultry registry idea spread beyond the boarders of New Jersey into neighboring states. The Connecticut Poultry Association implemented their own system of tattoo marks that were registered with the Connecticut State Police.[10] According to the December 1939 issue of Popular Science, “tattooing numbers on the wings of poultry has proved a valuable aid to farmers in eastern states, as a means of foiling chicken thieves…In the event of theft, the number is reported and a watch is kept at produce markets for the stolen birds. Signs equipped with reflectors so they can be seen at night, are posted in front of each farm using the protective method, warning that the chickens are tattooed.” [11]

An example of the tattoo registry at work is the story of Farmer Cox. “A resident laborer on the farm of Charles Cox, at Cranberry, New Jersey, sold a turkey to his employer for $1.25. He said he got it from two hunters. But Mr. Cox took a look at the bird’s wing and discovered the telltale markings. He immediately summoned the State Police who, from the record rooms at the State Capitol, learned the turkey was the property of Spencer Perrine, a farmer about two miles distant…The thief was sentenced to the Middlesex County Workhouse.”[12]

The next logical question is, just how does one tattoo a chicken, or any other kind of poultry for that matter? Thanks to Gus Holt of Chicago, Illinois, it is easy! On August 16, 1938 Gus A. Holt, assignor to Prairie Farm Service Company of Illinois, received U.S. Patent Number 2, 126,777 for his Tattoo Marker. His invention was a new and improved tattoo marker used for tattooing identifying marks on an animal’s ear or poultry wing with indelible ink “…to cause the same to pass into the perforations formed during the manipulation of the marker proper so as to imprint a permanent mark for identification purposes.”[13]

The punch consisted of sharp needles arranged to form the numbers and letters of the registration. This was punched on the webbing of the wing, back of the bone, making a permanent park.[14] With Holt’s improved tattoo marker, “an irremovable mark without injury to the bird…is impressed without blemish to the flesh.”[15]

By 1947, when the registration of poultry ended, a total of 4,610 registrations were issued and 4,515,780 birds were tattooed. As ridiculous as chicken tattooing sounds, it is important to remember the era in which this occurred. Almost over night millions of people lost their jobs and their homes without warning when the stock market crashed in October 1929. “The Great Depression lasted 12 long years. That’s one eighth of the entire twentieth century. It was an unprecedented time in history. With one in four workers unemployed, families were forced to turn to bread and sup lines to keep from starving. The Great Depression [was] the longest and most devastating economic depression in modern history.”[16]

Chickens could provide both meat and eggs. They and other poultry were easy to raise, inexpensive to feed and could provide food for the farmer’s family or money if sold. Desperate times led to desperate crimes. The poultry registry devised by Colonel Schwarzkopf and the New Jersey State Police helped reduce “as many as twenty wholesale chicken thefts a night” down to an occasional one or two.[17]

_____________________

[1]Huston McCollough. “Tattooed Chickens Thwart Thieves.” Vineland Journal. April 5, 1934.

[2] Tenth Annual Report. 1931.

[3]Huston McCollough. “Tattooed Chickens Thwart Thieves.” Vineland Journal. April 5, 1934.

[4]“History of the South Brunswick Police Department: The Formation of South Brunswick.” http://www.twp.south-brunswick.nj.us/. As of September 22, 2009.

[5]Tattoo Archive. http://www.tattooarchive.com/index.htm.

[6]Huston McCollough. “Tattooed Chickens Thwart Thieves.” Vineland Journal. April 5, 1934.

[7]David Morton. Invention & Technology Magazine. Winter 2002. Volume 17, Issue 3. http://www.americanheritage.com/articles/magazine/it/2002/3/2002_3_36.shtml

[8]Twelfth Annual Report, page 6-10. 1933. Later, in 1942, the Traffic and Safety Bureau assumed the responsibility of issuing poultry registrations.

[9]Twelfth Annual Report, page 6-10. 1933.

[10]Popular Science Monthly. Page 40. February 1936.

[11]Popular Science Monthly. December 1939.

[12] Huston McCollough. “Tattooed Chickens Thwart Thieves.” Vineland Journal. April 5, 1934.

[13]Gus A. Holt. Patent 2,126,777. United States Patent Office. August 16, 1938.

[14]Popular Science Monthly. December 1939.

[15] Gus A. Holt. Patent 2,126,777. United States Patent Office. August 16, 1938.

[16]H. Paul Jeffers. “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to The Great Depression”. Alpha, 2002. Page xxv.

[17] Huston McCollough. “Tattooed Chickens Thwart Thieves.” Vineland Journal. April 5, 1934.

Mile High Cure?

2009-09-17T10:30:00.004-04:00

Trooper Herbert Eugene Roland Olstead #72 was in a motorcycle accident on March 28, 1922 while on duty that resulted in a “fractured skull, partial paralysis of the face, and total deafness in both ears.”[1] He remained a Trooper, under expert care, and in 1925, Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf contacted J. Klein, Jr., Commander of the Lakehurst Naval Air Station asking for assistance in treating Trooper Olstead.

There is one thing that we have not been in a position to try, and which has been a cure in a number of reported cases. The remedy I refer to, is an Airplane Flight at high altitude, inasmuch, as we want the experiment and the efforts to regain for this man his hearing to be as exhaustive as possible, we are desirous of arranging for him to make such a flight, and he is not only willing but anxious to try it. Knowing that the Army and Naval Flying Corps have both co-operated in experiments of this kind all over the Country, I am communicating with you to determine what steps will be necessary to arrange such an experimental flight for Trooper Olstead, and whatever is necessary to accomplish this experiment we will be very glad to do.[2]

Schwarzkopf was directed to contact Major Hensley at Mitchel Field, Long Island, as Lakehurst was “not equipped with any Airplanes at the present time, and that the only ones that are contemplated bringing to the Station are two heavy bombing type for use in parachute jumping and tests.”[3]

Major Hensley replied to HNS favorably:

From your letter it seems to me that Trooper Olmstead’s case is one which might yield to the airplane treatment and therefore I suggest that you have him come to Mitchel Field some morning when weather conditions are favorable. I will have our specialist diagnose his case and then he can be given a flight or as many flights as appear to benefit him.[4]

Trooper Olstead reported to Mitchel Field as directed and on February 16, 1925 he wrote to Colonel Schwarzkopf to relate his experiences:

My Dear Colonel, I had a good flight to-day, was up eleven thousand and a few odd hundred feet and went thru about six loop the loops…When we landed I said to Captain Kessling we sure did travel. He said, “Oh 120 miles per hour is nothing…” Tomorrow, Tuesday, is when the real thrills start: A nosedive is on the program…I will say that the flight today sure did some good as Sergt. O’Connor spoke to me when we landed and it is the first time, since the unlucky day, that I could feel the pressure of a human voice against my ear drum…Major Hensley said to have confidence in the flights.[5]

Olstead was convinced that the flying treatments were helping to improve his hearing. For example, “this morning on the way over to Mitchel Field a car in back of me blew the horn and it almost scared me stiff. That is the first time I heard a horn so plain. I could always hear most of them, but they sounded as thou [sic] they were miles away.”[6]

Although his hearing had not yet been totally restored, Sergeant O’Connor, who was in charge of him, “told me this morning that Major Hensley said they will cure me if it take[s] a month, and I should not get discouraged. I told the Sergeant to tell Major Hensley they will have one big job on there [sic] hands if they try to discourage me, that [sic] impossible. I really know when I leave here I will [be] O.K. once more. I have a feeling that I never did have before, just don’t know how to explain it, but it must be a good sign.”[7]

It was about a month later that Major Hensley reported back to Colonel Schwarzkopf about Olstead’s progress. It was not looking good.

My dear Colonel, On Monday last Captain Keesling took Trooper Olstead up for the fifth time. Olstead, of whom we have become very fond, thinks that his hearing has improved. Personally I see very little evidence of it. He has received every kind of a loop, tail-spin, dive, barrel-roll and stall known to aviation. It is possible that it will bear fruit later but I am of the opinion that further flights would be useless.[8]
Schwarzkopf was deeply grateful for the assistance and courtesies Major Hensley extended to the Department of State Police and to Trooper Olstead, but he reluctantly agreed that, “the possibilities along the lines of benefiting Olstead by Aviation have been fully exhausted.”

Chapter 188 of the newly enacted Laws of 1925 created a Retirement and Benevolent Fund for the Department of State Police that provided for the retirement and pensioning of State Troopers. Herbert Olstead became one of the first, if not the first, New Jersey State Troopers to be pensioned. Department Physician Dr. Leo Haggerty certified that Trooper Olstead was “so injured while in the performance of his duty as a Trooper of the State Police, that he is totally incapacitated for further duty with said Organization”[9]

On April 14th, Special Order 118 was issued stating that “in accordance with instructions from the State House Commission, issued in compliance with Chapter 188, P.L. 1925, Trooper Herbert R. Olstead, #72, Troop “A” New Jersey State Police, is hereby placed on the Pension List starting April 1, 1925. Discharge from the New Jersey State Police will be issued Trooper Olstead dated March 31, 1925…citing reason of physical disability.”[10] Having earned $2,000 per year as a Trooper, he was granted a pension of $1,200 per year.[11]

Unfortunately, there are no further reports about Trooper Olstead and the state of his hearing in his file. All that is known is that he lived in New Jersey for the rest of his life and died in June 1983 in Livingston, Essex County, New Jersey at the age of 93.

NOTES:
[1] Leo Haggerty, M.D. Physician’s Statement. June 9, 1931.
[2] H. Norman Schwarzkopf. Letter to JH Klein, Jr., Commander, Naval Air Station, Lakehurst, NJ. January 14, 1925
[3] H. Norman Schwarzkopf. Letter to Maj. Hensley, Mitchel Field, Long Island. January 17,1925.
[4] W.N. Hensley, Jr., Major, Air Service, Commanding, Mitchel Field, Long Island. Letter to Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. January 27, 1925
[5] Herbert R. Olstead. Letter to Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. February 16, 1925.
[6] Herbert R. Olstead. Letter to Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. February 16, 1925.
[7] Herbert R. Olstead. Letter to Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. February 18, 1925.
[8] W.N. Hensley, Jr, Major, Mitchel Field, Long Island. Letter to Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. March 12, 1925.
[9] Comptroller of the Treasury and Secretary of the State House Commission. Letter to Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf. April 13, 1925.
[10] Special Order 118. April 14, 1925.
[11] In 1923, a Trooper’s salary was $1,400 per year. They also received a food and lodging allowance of $600 per year for a total of $2,000.

The Crash of the Nellie Bly

2009-02-17T23:23:00.009-05:00

It took 80 days for Phineas Fogg to travel around the world in Jules Verne’s 1873 novel, but in 1889 it took 21-year-old Elizabeth Cochran just 72.

Elizabeth was better known by her pen name, Nellie Bly. Nellie Bly was a famous (real life) reporter working for the New York World newspaper. “Nellie focused her attention on women’s rights issues, was the inventor of investigative reporting and became an expert at undercover work.”[1]

When Nellie returned from her trip around the world, “she was immediately catapulted into the world’s spotlight and was dubbed ‘the fastest reporter in America during her lifetime…’ In her honor, the Pennsylvania Railroad called its fastest train the Nellie Bly Express. The train traveled [daily] through New Jersey between New York City and Atlantic City.”[2]

It was this express train that William H. Kale, my great grandfather, would occasionally ride home from school after class. “He would ride in the first car behind the engine and coal car. But this time there was no room for him, it was full of [Italian] migrant workers, so he and the other students from Rider had to sit in one of the cars in the back.”[3]

The Nellie Bly express normally ran in two sections but February 21, 1901 was an exceptionally busy day because of people traveling for the Washington’s Birthday holiday, so a third section was added. It was this last section that carried William H. Kale and the Italian laborers.

In railroad operations in the 19th Century, if a train was overcrowded and there
were more passengers that needed to travel, railroad operators and managers
would simply add another train [called a “section”]. It followed behind
the other one, not too far distant…This doubling of trains often led to
accidents.”[4]

This was the first time that the Nellie Bly ran in three sections – as three separate trains – instead of the usual two. Therefore, the railroad had to take precautions. For example, the second section of the Nellie Bly carried a signal; green flags on the engine, to indicate another section following. Orders were also issued to the conductors of all northbound train informing them that the Nellie Bly was in three sections.

19th Century train conductors – as well as modern day conductors – are considered the “captain” of the train. They, not the engineers, are responsible for train safety and punctuality. They have the final say as to when a train is able to move. “Responsibility for starting a train rested with the conductor” and not the engineer.[5]

Edward S. Sapp of Bordentown, New Jersey, was a conductor working for the Amboy Division of the Pennsylvania Railroad Company. He had been in charge of an accommodation train (that is, a local commuter train) that ran from Camden to Trenton since 1895. [6]

On February 21, 1901 Conductor Sapp and Thomas Boulden, the engineer, were taking their accommodation train to Trenton. They had both received orders from the railroad dispatcher in Camden stating that the Nellie Bly would be traveling south in three sections that day.

The accommodation train was ordered to meet the first section of the Nellie Bly at Switch Number 3 at Bordentown, where they would pull to the side and allow it to pass. They were to continue north to the Shipyard Siding at Bordentown where they would take the siding and allow the second and third section of the Nellie Bly to pass. They could then continue on towards Trenton, and expect to meet local train #333 at “switch No. 2 at Rusling Siding”.[7]

All went according to plan. The accommodation train did, indeed, meet the first section of the Nellie Bly at “Switch Number 3 at Bordentown”, and they safely pulled aside allowing it to pass. They continued on to Shipyard Siding where they once again took the siding and allowed the second section of the Nellie Bly to pass. Conductor Sapp saw green flags on the engine of the Nellie Bly, a signal that another section was following behind. However, he mistook this to mean the local train that was following further behind that he was to meet at Rusling Siding. “All notice of the part of the orders referring to the third section of the Nellie Bly seemed to be overlooked.”[8]

Harry Price, a modeler in the Bordentown Pottery, was sitting in the rear of the accommodation train. When they pulled into the Shipyard siding, Conductor Sapp said to him, “We will have to wait here for the second section of the Nellie Bly.” At that moment a shrill whistle was heard and the conductor remarked, “The wait will not be very long for here she comes.” Although Conductor Sapp had not ordered the engineer to pull out onto the main track, when the engineer did so, “I thought it was all right” and he did not stop the train.[9]

Meanwhile, the Nellie Bly was running about 20 minutes behind schedule. Full of “excursionists and laborers” on their way from New York to Atlantic City, they had left Jersey City, where they picked up the Italian workers, at 3:14 pm. It was now 5:30 in the evening. “The express had made frequent stops on the run down from New York and was slowing up just north of Bordentown…At this point there is a curve.” However, According to Michael McGowen, the fireman on the Nellie Bly, “we were late and were going as fast as we knew how. As we rounded the curve near the Shipyard siding[10], I said to Engineer [Walter] Earle, ‘My God, here comes a train!’ Earle replied, ‘Jump and save yourself! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!’” The last thing McGowen saw was Earle putting on the emergency break and making other hurried preparations for stopping.[11]

George Howard of Center Street, Trenton, stated that “‘after leaving Bordentown, we were side-tracked on the Shipyard siding in order to allow the second section of the Nellie Bly to pass. Immediately after this section had passed, our train pulled out on to the main track and proceeded at a good rate of speed toward Trenton.” As they rounded the curve…he saw the approaching headlight of the on-rushing express.[12]

The following description is from the February 22, 1901 Trenton Evening Times:

The wreck occurred just as the local Camden train had pulled around a bend, on the canal bank, after leaving the Bordentown Station. The shock came with such suddenness that many were sent hurling through the windows into the icy water of the canal. Luckily the canal was low at the time, or the death list would have been even greater…The cars piled up in all directions and two went over the bank into the canal bed…The most terrifying feature of the wreck was the fire that broke out immediately after the [collision]. The stoves were overturned and while the passengers in the new coaches looked on helpless and miles from aid of any kind, the wretches pinioned down beneath the burning cars lay and roasted to death. Others were crushed outright between the colliding cars. Walter Earle, the engineer of the Bly was caught beneath the tender of the accommodation train and…his head was found 20 feet from the place where his body lay. Thompson, the engineer of the accommodation train, jumped into the canal as he saw the headlight of the Nellie Bly rounding the corner and escaped with a few slight bruises.[13] It was on the Nelly Bly express, in the forward coach between the engine and the baggage car that the greatest number of fatalities occurred. These, crowded on the seats, were about 30 Italians, on their way from New York to begin construction work in Atlantic City. Few of these came out alive. The frail coach was crushed like an eggshell when the engine and baggage car closed in on it, and a moment later blazed up…when the stoves overturned. Behind the baggage car was a day coach crowded with excursionists on their way to spend Washington’s Birthday at Atlantic City. This car was overturned as if it were a feather and thrown into the canal, which runs on both sides of the high embankment. Behind the Nelly Bly baggage car, which was not badly damaged, lay an overturned passenger coach, which was riven and literally torn to shreds. These cars were thrown to the right of the track by the terrible force of the collision. One stood upright in the canal bed and the other lay overturned on the bank.[14]

According to the New York Times, “both engines were reduced to a mass of broken and twisted iron and the car containing the Italians was crushed to splinters and all its occupants were buried under the mass of wreckage. The second car piled up in the first, and the third car crashed into the mass and tumbled into the canal alongside the railroad. The remaining three cars [one of which carried William H. Kale] did not overturn.”[15]

George Howard, survivor of the accommodation train stated, that “when the crash came, we were all thrown from our seats and Conductor Sapp was thrown nearly from one end of the car to the other. He was quite badly cut about the head. As soon as possible, we rushed out of the car and forward to the place where the damage was creates…the smoking car was almost immediately kindled in flames. This car was nearly reduced to kindling wood by the collision and the flames made such headway among the debris that it would hardly seem possible to find a trace of a human body there after the flames had consumed the woodwork. To give an accurate account of the terrible catastrophe is attempting the impossible as the scene that followed the crash was simply indescribable.”[16]

The next morning, daylight “only added to the horror of the terrible wreck. The moans of the injured and torn, the cries of the dying were stilled and the lurid, red glare of the burning wreckage had disappeared, but daylight revealed more clearly the mass of twisted iron and timbers smoldering and smoking, with here and there the remnants of what was only yesterday a human being, the owner of a soul, since sent to join its maker. To add to the horror, the smell of burning flesh…”[17]

Immediately railroad officials put the blame of the crash on the “crew of the local train which was in the charge of Conductor Sapp and Engineer Thompson, both of Camden. The railroad authorities say that the crew of this train had been given orders to meet the express at Bordentown – that is, to wait on a siding at that point until the express should have passed. Instead of doing this, however, they kept on up the road and met the express at Rusling’s Siding, above Bordentown, and a head-on collision occurred.”[18]

As one can imagine, Sapp was in a state of shock. John Thaler, of Trenton, who was an employee of the Ironsides Pottery in Bordentown, had missed the accommodation train that night, so he decided to walk home. “On the way up he met Conductor Sapp, half staggering and with a wild, haggard look on his face, going toward Bordentown.”[19] A headline ran showing concern that “Sapp May Lose His Mind – Feared That If Told He Caused Wreck He Will Go Insane.”[20]

John Macgee’s son, Thomas, was one of the victims of the wreck. The father and son both worked at the Ironsides Pottery in Bordentown. Thomas and some other co-workers left work to catch the accommodation train back home to Trenton. His father worked later than usual and so did not catch the train with the others.

Shortly after quitting work he heard about the wreck and started on a run for the scene. He was half-crazed at being unable to see his son in the crowd surrounding the wreck and then he ran up to the very verge of the furnace-like fire that was consuming the cars. Horror-stricken, he had to retreat, for the heat was unbearable. After seeing the wreck of the smoker car where he was told his son had been sitting, he was convinced his son was dead, for a glance at the twisted, splintered fragments of the smoker seemed proof positive that no human being could have escaped alive. After frantically searching for his son nearly all night he gave up out of sheer exhaustion until the next day. It was a couple of days later that his son’s coat was found in the canal. His son’s body was never recovered.[21]

One woman, from New York City, survived the wreck thanks to her hair. As reported in the New York Times on February 23, 1901,Miss Harry Lyon…was on the [Nellie Bly] express in company with her friend, Mrs. Belle Freeman, bound for Atlantic City to spend the holiday. When the crash came [Miss Lyon] was thrown through one of the windows of the car and hung on the outside by her hair until it settled down on the ice of the canal, enabling her to get a foothold. They both suffered from severe shock. Their car was the third from the locomotive and was an ordinary day car, as they had been unable to get parlor car seats. Miss Lyon occupied the aisle seat. She remembers that her friend was thrown forward as their seat was wrenched from its fastenings by the force of the collision, that the cushion on which they were sitting was hurled through the window, and her after it. As she went through she caught the sill with her hand, otherwise her hair, which caught on the sash, would probably have been torn out by the roots. Just how long she remained so she cannot tell, but after her feet touched the ice she was unable to disengage herself, and was only freed when one of her fellow-survivors, a man, cut her hair where it had caught and helped her to a place of safety. Miss Lyon is badly cut about the face and head, and there is a deep wound on one of her eyelids. She has severe bruises all over her body.

Doctors H.M. Beatty and Charles Mitchell of Trenton drove to the crash site. “The cries of the wounded and dying were simply awful. One man, who had a compound fracture of the jaw, was yelling at the top of his voice for help.” The injured were found on both sides of the canal that ran along side the railroad track. “After repeated calling from the opposite side of the canal they succeeded in getting someone to throw wreckage into the canal so they could cross upon it. Dr. Mitchell went across [but] Dr. Beatty found it impossible to cross at that time. Train hands did not assist the physicians to cross the canal; they seemed too busy looking after baggage.” Dr. Beatty’s impression was that “the railroad people were more anxious to save baggage than to get bodies from the wrecked cars.”[22]

Doctors MacKenzie, Mcgalliard and County Physician Rogers received word of the wreck and together started for the accident scene on a special train. “They only got as far as Broad Street Station when they received word that the train could go no farther and they returned to Clinton Street [Station] and subsequently went to St. Francis Hospital where a number of the injured had been taken.”[23]

The survivors of the Nellie Bly were taken to Camden, NJ in a special train. Also, “the wounded were distributed among the three Trenton hospitals…” Six of the injured were taken to Cooper Hospital and the others who could stand the journey continued on to Atlantic City. The ones taken to Cooper Hospital were all Italians. The train arrived in Camden not long after 9:00pm. “The passengers were a pitiful-looking company. Many of the women had either their heads or arms tied up and were badly bespattered with blood. A number of men were also bandaged.”[24]
Coroner Bower of Trenton arranged to have the railroad company erect dams in the canal on each side of the wreck. Water was to be pumped out to permit a thorough search for missing bodies, “or parts of them”.[25] Railroad employees “dug up the canal bed and embankment at the side of the wreck to the depth of several feet. The result was that several little heaps of ashes and charred bones were brought to light. This indicates that at least four bodies were incinerated. In one heap was a rib and portion of a shoe; while near the other was a portion of a hat, the inner band bearing the initials W.C. These correspond to the initials of William Cochran, one of the missing Trentonians.”[26]

One scene that horrified the workers searching for remains occurred on the afternoon of February 25th. Workers had found a few bones, “all that is mortal of one who was a passenger on the local train.” The bones were gathered and placed in a small pile on the side of the road away from the wreckage while they awaited the arrival of the coroner. “Then to their horror a prowling dog discovered the bones and began to gnaw them with all the ravishness of his savage nature.” The workmen all froze in horror but then began to yell and throw rocks at the dog chasing him away.[27]

“During the day one of the searchers found a gold watch, pocketbook and a revolver…The searcher declined to give his name or turn the articles over to the coroner…The person that found the articles left the spot soon after.”[28]

Among other artifacts discovered in the wreckage were clothing, coats, hats, “a collar from a coat, together with the rim and portion of a derby hat and two sleeves, torn from a coat.” All of the items collected were kept at Taylor’s Morgue in Trenton in hopes that they might help find the missing or identify the dead.[29]

As soon as word of the accident had reached Bordentown, P.F.H. Brakeley, foreman of the Chemical Engine Company, made his way to the scene.

From the brow of a hill in Bordentown he saw the flames and thought the fire apparatus would be of some service…the [chemical] engine was taken to the wreck aboard a flat car. It was about 7:30 when the chemical started for the wreck. On the way up the track a train coming from the wreck was met and the chemical engine was run back to Bordentown to allow the other train to pass. It was 8:00 before the chemical finally got to the wreck and then it was found impossible to get within 280 feet of the demolished cars. The engine did not go into service because it had only 200 feet of hose and [the] stream could not be gotten upon the flames. Mr. Brakeley said he did not think the chemical engine could have done anything but extinguish a few burning embers. Even if there had been sufficient hose to reach the main part of the fire it would be almost impossible to unload the chemical engine on account of the condition of the surrounding country.[30]

According to Joseph Osmond, chief engineer of the Bordentown Fire Department, “if a steam engine, instead of the chemical, had been sent to the wreck it might have done some good…but on account of there being little water available and the almost utter impossibility of getting the engine into position for service at that place, it was not deemed advisable to send the steamer at that time.”[31]

Mr. Osmond said that “to the casual observer it would appear there was needless delay in getting the chemical to the scene, but such was not the case.” The time it had reached the wreck, “the flames had been burning long and fiercely enough to consume any bodies that might be in it and, therefore, to put the fire out would only mean the saving of the wreckage.[32]

However, John Matthews and H.G. Wright, both of the Bordentown Fire Department, felt that in their judgement the chemical engine “could easily have been unloaded from the flat car and been put in position to extinguish the flames.” Matthews “considered it a lack of duty on the part of those in charge that it was not put in service.”[33]

Astonishingly, the horrible wreck of the Nelly Bly could have been much worse than it was. “A package of a particular aspect was taken from the ruins and when it was examined later in Camden…it was found to contain dynamite.” The only explanation for the presence of dynamite on the Nellie Bly is that it was being carried by some of the Italian laborers who were on their way to a job of excavating near Atlantic City. “They would have use for the stuff in their work and it is thought some of them were carrying it as baggage to save expense and to avoid the difficulty attending the shipment of explosives. It is said there is nothing unusual about these men carrying dynamite in this way and it seems to be the only reasonable explanation of the question…Coroner Bower says there was fifteen pounds of the stuff in the package.”[34]

Mercer County Physician R.R. Rogers Jr. ordered Coroner J.R.D. Bower to “conduct a searching inquest into the wreck.” The jury only needed to view one of the “torn and charred bodies…and not all, as…all the persons killed came to their end by reason of the same cause and in the eyes of the law the verdict will be the same in each case.”[35]

“Both General Superintendent Sheppard of the United Railway of New Jersey and Division Superintendent Abercrombie admitted…that the crew of the accommodation train disobeyed the train orders.”[36] C.W. Kunzi, the telegraph operator in the Pennsylvania Railroad station in Bordentown said that the orders received from the Camden train dispatcher “were faithfully executed by him but disobeyed by Engineer Thompson and Conductor Sapp of the local train.”[37]

The Coroner’s Jury found both Engineer Benjamin Thompson and Conductor Edward Sapp of the local accommodation train guilty of negligence in failing to obey orders. The verdict also censured the Pennsylvania Railroad Company for not having a double track between Trenton and Burlington.[38]

On May 14, 1901, Justice Gummere charged the Grand Jury to find on indictment against Conductor Sapp. In his charge to the jury he said, “Sapp is guilty of manslaughter and should be indicted.”[39] However, on June 10th, the Grand Jury failed to indict Sapp. Instead, he was censured for “failing to read correctly the orders intended to control movement of his train.” Fortunately for him, mitigating circumstances relieved him of criminal liability.[40]

Edward Sapp continued to work for the Pennsylvania Railroad until the morning of April 19, 1906 when he dropped dead at his post in the Camden terminal of a massive heart attack. He was only 55 years old and he left behind a wife and two adult children. The Rev. E.F. Garrett, Pastor of the Baptist Church in Bordentown, held his funeral on April 22, 1906, and six fellow train conductors served as pallbearers. He was buried in the Bordentown Cemetery.

Seventeen people were killed and at least 21 were severely injured in the wreck o the Nellie Bly. However, the Trenton Times wrote on March 2, 1901 that, “the death list will never be fully known, as the hungry flames…may have consumed many whose absence may never be accounted for.” The Nellie Bly express continued to run from New York to Atlantic City until the early 1960s. Today, New Jersey Transit’s River Line runs along the same tracks as the Nellie Bly, taking commuters once again from Trenton to Camden. At the Riverton Station, passengers can cross the street to the Nellie Bly Olde Tyme Ice Cream Parlour and order a “Train Wreck” Banana Split.

Period Photographs of the Wreck (click to enlarge)

The Nellie Bly Ice Cream Parlour and the "Train Wreck" Banana Split

Notes
[1] History of Nellie Bly. (Menu)
[2] History of Nellie Bly. (Menu).
[3] Neva Bainbridge. Interview with author. June 28, 2008.
[4] Robert C. Reed. Trains Unlimited. History Channel International. Aired July 31, 2008.
[5] Trenton Times, March 28, 1901.
[6] Trenton Times. April 4, 1901.
[7] Trenton Times. March 28, 1901.
[8] Trenton Times, March 28, 1901.
[9] Trenton Times, March 19, 1901.
[10] It was actually at Rusling’s Siding, a few miles south of Trenton.
[11] Trenton Times, April 4, 1901.
[12] Trenton Times, February 26, 1901.
[13] Benjamin Thompson died at St. Francis Hospital on the morning of March 27, 1901. When he saw the collision with the Nelly Bly was inevitable, he jumped from the train to the canal bed. “He sustained a compound fracture of the leg, a broken arm and was otherwise lacerated and bruised.” He was recovering well until erysipelas developed. Erysipelas, from the Greek for red skin is an acute skin infection caused by the streptococcus bacteria. The infection enters the skin causing redness and inflammation. Today, this kind of infection is easily treated with penicillin, but Alexander Fleming did not discover this wonder drug until 1928. In Thompson’s case, the infection was initially confined to his head and face but, without the availability of penicillin, it eventually began to spread. He fell in and out of consciousness and finally succumbed to the infection, becoming the seventeenth victim of the train wreck. (Trenton Times, March 27, 1901 and http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erysipelas as of January 4, 2009).
[14] Trenton Times, February 22, 1901.
[15] New York Times, February 22, 1901.
[16] Trenton Times, February 26, 1901.
[17] Trenton Times, February 22, 1901.
[18] New York Times, February 22, 1901.
[19] Trenton Times, March 29, 1901.
[20] Trenton Times, February 22, 1901.
[21] Trenton Times, March 29, 1901.
[22] Trenton Times, March 18, 1901.
[23] Trenton Times, March 19, 1901.
[24] New York Times, February 22, 1901
[25] Trenton Times, February 26, 1901.
[26] Trenton Times, March 2, 1901.
[27] Trenton Times, February 26, 1901.
[28] Trenton Times, February 26, 1901.
[29] Trenton Times, February 26, 1901.
[30] Trenton Times, March 18, 1901.
[31] Trenton Times, March 18, 1901.
[32] Trenton Times, March 18, 1901.
[33] Trenton Times, March 19, 1901.
[34] Trenton Times, February 26, 1901.
[35] Trenton Times, February 23, 1901.
[36] New York Times, February 23, 1901.
[37] New York Times, February 24, 1901.
[38] Trenton Times, April 5, 1901.
[39] New York Times, May 15, 1901.
[40] Trenton Times, June 10, 1901.

The crash photographs are from the Trentoniana Collection at the Free Public Library in Trenton, NJ. The ice cream parlor and ice cream photographs are from the author's visit in 2008.

INVASION! A 70th Anniversary Tribute

2008-10-30T00:00:00.013-04:00

If you were to ask any knowledgeable historian, “when was the last time the United States was invaded by alien forces?”, the answer you would get would probably be "sometime around 1916" when Francisco “Pancho” Villa invaded the United States and attacked the village of Columbus, New Mexico during the Mexican Revolution.

They would, however, not be entirely correct. Twenty-two years later, the United States of America was invaded again. This time New Jersey was targeted and by forces much more advanced than those of Pancho Villa. This time, the invasion was not stopped by a general or by the militia, but by a lone New Jersey State Trooper sitting “on the book” and answering phones at Department Headquarters in Trenton, New Jersey.

Trooper Vincent Mason reported for duty at 4:00 in the afternoon of October 30, 1938. All was quiet, the most exciting thing happening so far was an escape from the Skillman Village, an epileptic asylum just north of Hopewell. But then all hell broke loose.

The United States in 1938 was sitting on a precipice looking over the edge at a fast approaching war in Europe. Adolf Hitler had been in power since 1933 and had already advanced his nationalist army into Austria and Czechoslovakia. Who would be next? Would the Germans come here?

What of the Japanese? They had sent their imperial forces into China and wreaked havoc in Manchuria. Would the Japanese come here?

The question was, who would get here first?

My father, who was 19 years old at the time, remembered the anxious tension of that time. In an interview with him a few years before he died he told me that he remembered listening to the radio every night. “We would hear Hitler giving his speeches over in Germany at those rallies. Then all the Germans cheering and shouting ‘Heil Hitler!’ It was really scary!” International tensions were so heightened that the slightest utterance of the word “Boo!” could trigger a panic.

Then it came. INVASION!

It was 70 years ago on October 30, 1938. It began with huge flaming objects hurtling through the sky and crashing down in the countryside. According to the news being flashed on WCBS Radio, a “huge flaming object…fell on a farm in the neighborhood of Grovers Mill, New Jersey, twenty-two miles from Trenton…The noise of the impact was heard as far north as Elizabeth.”

WCBS reporter Carl Phillips was immediately dispatched to the scene of the invasion. The yellowish-white projectile – a huge cylinder” that had the diameter of thirty yards had hit the Wilmuth Farm in Grovers Mill. Phillips reported that it had struck the ground with such “terrific force…[that] it was half buried in a pit.”

Old man Wilmuth witnessed the object hurtling through the sky. In an interview with Carl Phillips, Mr. Wilmuth explained that he first heard a hissing sound “kinda like a fourt’ of July rocket.” As he turned to look out the window “I seen a kinda greenish streak and then zingo! Somethin’ smacked the ground. Knocked me clear out of my chair!”

Was this a new type of weapon developed by Hitler’s military machine? A prelude to the Nazi regime unleashing their infamous Blitzkrieg - Lightning War - on the United States? The crowds that had gathered by now would not have to wait long to find out – the object was beginning to make noise. It was described as a scraping sound of metal upon metal. Suddenly, a piece of the cylinder fell off with a bang. To the horror of the crowd, someone began to climb out of the metal canister!

The epitome of evil that was released from the object unleashed hell’s fury, firing a flame thrower into the unsuspecting gathering of curious onlookers. WCBS’s Carl Phillips reported the carnage until he, himself, fell victim to its wrath:

"I can make out a small beam of light against a mirror. What's that? There's a jet of flame springing from the mirror, and it leaps right at the advancing men. It strikes them head on! Good Lord, they're turning into flame! Now the whole field's caught fire. The woods . . . the barns . . . the gas tanks of automobiles . . . it's spreading everywhere. It's coming this way. About twenty yards to my right . . .

Sadly, Carl Phillips did not survive the invasion of 1938. He and at least forty other people died when their bodies were “burned and distorted beyond all possible recognition."

Once news of the invasion had reached Trenton, the Governor of New Jersey immediately placed the counties of Mercer and Middlesex under martial law, and put Brigadier General Montgomery Smith in charge of the state militia. No one was permitted to enter or exit the area "…except by special pass issued by state or military authorities."

The countryside was engulfed in flames. The technologically advanced flame thrower was described by Professor Pierson of Princeton University: "It is my guess that in some way they are able to generate an intense heat in a chamber of practically absolute nonconductivity. This intense heat they project in a parallel beam against any object they choose, by means of a polished parabolic mirror…much as the mirror of a lighthouse projects a beam of light. That is my conjecture…"

Reports issued by Captain Lansing of the signal corps were relayed by WCBS Radio. Lansing was attached “…to the state militia now engaged in military operations in the vicinity of Grovers Mill. Situation arising from the reported presence of certain individuals of unidentified nature is now under complete control… adequately armed with rifles and machine guns. All cause for alarm, if such cause ever existed, is now entirely unjustified…Anyway, it's an interesting outing for the troops. I can make out their khaki uniforms, crossing back and forth in front of the lights. It looks almost like a real war.”

Captain Lansing’s cavalier attitude did not last long because what has become known in some circles as The Battle of Grovers Mill ended “…in one of the most startling defeats ever suffered by any army in modern times; seven thousand men…one hundred and twenty known survivors. The rest strewn over the battle area from Grovers Mill to Plainsboro.” The enemy was now in control of the middle section of New Jersey and had effectively cut the state through its center.

“Communication lines are down from Pennsylvania to the Atlantic Ocean. Railroad tracks are torn and service from New York to Philadelphia discontinued except routing some of the trains through Allentown and Phoenixville. Highways to the north, south are clogged with frantic human traffic. Police and army reserves are unable to control the mad flight. By morning the fugitives will have swelled Philadelphia, Camden, and Trenton, it is estimated, to twice their normal population. At this time martial law prevails throughout New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania. “

Meanwhile, back at New Jersey State Police Department Headquarters in Trenton, Trooper Mason is single handedly putting an end to this terrifying "foreign invasion" simply by answering the telephone…over and over again throughout the night. As he noted in the Station Record for that evening,

"Between 8:30p & 10pm received numerous phone calls as result of WABC [sic] broadcast this evening re Mars attacking this country. Calls included papers, police depts. Including N.Y.C. & private persons. No record kept of same due to working teletype & all the extensions ringing at same time. At least 50 calls were answered. Persons calling inquiring as to meteors, number of persons killed, gas attack, militia being called out & fires. All were advised nothing unusual had occurred & that rumors were due to a radio dramatization of a play."

Orson Welles was the brilliant mind behind the radio dramatization of the novel The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. He, most of all, was shocked when he learned about the fear and near panic his radio play instilled in the hearts of Americans. At the end of the broadcast he stepped out of character (he had portrayed the fictional Professor Pierson) to explain:

“that The War of The Worlds has no further significance than as the holiday offering it was intended to be. The Mercury Theatre's own radio version of dressing up in a sheet and jumping out of a bush and saying Boo! Starting now, we couldn't soap all your windows and steal all your garden gates by tomorrow night. . . so we did the best next thing. We annihilated the world before your very ears, and utterly destroyed the C. B. S. You will be relieved, I hope, to learn that we didn't mean it, and that both institutions are still open for business. So goodbye everybody, and remember the terrible lesson you learned tonight. That grinning, glowing, globular invader of your living room is an inhabitant of the pumpkin patch, and if your doorbell rings and nobody's there, that was no Martian. . .it's Hallowe'en.”

It would be another three years before the United States would face another invasion. Once more there would be a radio broadcast. This time, however, it would be for real. This broadcast would not be delivered by Orson Welles; rather by a very angry and resolute Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the President of the United States.

“Yesterday, Dec. 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy - the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan…”

____________________________________________________________________
SOURCES
New Jersey State Police Department Headquarters. Station Record.
Pancho Villa Expedition. Wikipedia.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pancho_Villa_Expedition. As of October 28, 2008.
The War of the Worlds. Wikipedia.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_War_of_the_Worlds_(radio) As of October 28,
2008.
Welles, Orson. The War of the Worlds. Script.
http://www.sacred-texts.com/ufo/mars/wow.htm As of October 28, 2008.

The Ransom Notes: An Analysis of Their Content & "Signature"

2008-09-09T00:01:00.001-04:00

One of the most fascinating areas of study in the Lindbergh Kidnapping Case is the Ransom Notes. While much has been discussed regarding the handwriting and possible meaning and design of the symbol or signature (“singnature”), I find the content of the notes to be most interesting. It is well known that Dr. Dudley Shoenfeld had done a psychological analysis of the contents in the 1930s, but the content can also provide a glimpse not only into the mind of the author(s) but also into their situation. The purpose of this paper is not to answer any questions, but to raise new questions the discussion of which will hopefully shed some light behind the scenes of the ransom note writer’s desk.

The first ransom note – what we call the Nursery Note – contains a surprisingly generic message. That in itself is interesting and will be discussed later. Another interesting aspect of the note regards the holes in the symbol used as the signature. The holes punched in this note are unique in that they do not match the shape of the holes in any of the other notes. They do however, match perfectly with regards to spacing – as do all of the holes in all of the signed notes.

The handwriting in the Nursery Note is obviously heavily disguised – so much so that it is difficult to match it to the handwriting of the other notes. This has led to some speculation that this note was from the actual kidnapper(s) and that all of the others were from a separate group of extortionists, especially since Mickey Rosner was provided with a tracing of the Nursery Note handwriting (not the symbol) that he in turn gave to his underworld associates. Two points beyond the handwriting that link this note with the others could negate this theory. First, the aforementioned holes link this note with all of the other signed notes. In addition, and strangely reminiscent of S226 and Rail 16, the Nursery Note and the second ransom note (3/4/32) were once the same piece of paper. Looking under a microscope, it is easy to see where the torn edge of the Nursery Note and the torn edge of Note #2 match perfectly.

As stated before, one of the odd aspects of the Nursery Note that makes it unique is its lack of uniqueness. It is a very generic message that is not in any way specific to the kidnapping of the Lindbergh baby. Even the envelope in which it was left behind is not addressed to anyone and the salutation of the letter begins with a businesslike “Dear Sir!” Assuming the letter writer was also the kidnapper, did he know whose child he was going to kidnap when he prepared the note? How far in advance was the note written? Or did he employ someone else to write the note for him and did not want to let on at this point that this was for the kidnapping of the most famous baby in the world?

The language of the message, while generic, is also very clearly expressed. Of all the notes, it is the easiest to convert into proper English.

Dear Sir!
Have 50.000 $ redy 25 000 $ in
20 $ bills 1.5000 $ in 10 $ bills and
10000 $ in 5 $ bills. After 2-4 days
we will inform you where to deliver
the money.
We warn you for making
anyding public or for notify the Police
the child is in gute care.
Indication for all letters are
singnature
and 3 holhs.

Dear Sir,
Have $50,000 ready. $25,000 in
$20 bills, $1,500 in $10 bills and
$10,000 in $5 bills. After 2 – 4 days
we will inform you where to deliver
the money.
We warn you against making
anything public or notifying the police.
The child is in good care.
Indication for all letters are
Signature and three holes.

As you can see, there is very little difference between the two notes. As the negotiations continue and the texts get longer, the language and writing style become more difficult to read.

An additional point of trivia: the Nursery Note is the only note with German punctuation in the salutation – the exclamation mark after Dear Sir! All of the other notes use what appears to be a colon with Note 6 using a comma and Note 7 using a period.

It is interesting to note that the Nursery Note and Note 2, as stated before, were punched independently of each other and independently of each other and independently of all of the other notes. Yet, the writer makes specific mention of the signature and three holes as being the “indication for all letters.” If so, why only prepare one? Unless, of course, the author was playing it safe and wanted to see how things played out after the crime was discovered.

When he wrote the second note (3/4/32) he also drew attention to the signature by writing “singature on all letters” next to the symbol. The fourth note (3/7/32) is the last note to draw attention to the symbol until the sleeping suite note was sent on March 16th.

Note 4 simply writes “singature” next to the symbol and the reference in the sleeping suite note (Note 9) is part of the writer’s attempt to remind Condon that he is indeed communicating with the actual kidnapper(s). “Well you have ouer singnature. it is always specially them 3 hohls.”

Dr. Dudley Shoenfeld points out in his November 1, 1932 report that there is a “striking absence of a threat. There is no intimidation.” He goes on to say that there is no attempt to “use some compulsion which will make the parents of the child hasten the payment of ransom.” If anything, the notes are full of delays:

“We will holt the baby until everyding is quiet.”
“We can note make any appointment just now.”
“We will arrangh this [a go-between] latter”
“We will inform you latter how to deliver the mony, but
not before the Police is out and the Papers are quiet.”

Ransom Note #2, sent on March 4th, made no mention of how the Lindberghs should get in touch with the kidnappers. It simply admonished Lindbergh for involving the police and press and increased the ransom to $70,000. Unlike the short, generic Nursery Note, the scolding of Lindbergh in Note #2 was rather lengthy. The first five sentences were enough to get that point across:

We have warned you note to make anyding
Public also notify the Police. Now you have to
Take the consequences. This means we will holt the
Baby until everyding is quiet. We can note make any
Appointment just now.

But the note continues on for another several sentences of admonition and frustration:

[translated]
Is it really necessary to make a world affair out of this?
Or is it necessary to get your baby back as soon as possible?
To settle this affair in a quick way will be better for both sides...
...We will inform you later where to deliver the money. But we will
not do so until the police are out of the case and the papers are quiet.

It was two days later, on Sunday March 6, 1932 that Colonel Henry Breckinridge, Lindbergh’s attorney and close friend, attended the [in]famous Birritella Séance. After discovering a mysterious telegram from the Rev. John Birritella and Mary Ciritto – psychics who ran a spiritualist church in the Bronx – it was arranged for them to come down to Princeton where they met with him and Colonel Breckinridge and held a séance. Asked by the psychics if he has heard from the kidnappers, Breckinridge lied and told them “no”. He also tells them that there can be no delay in contact from the kidnappers as the situation was literally killing Mrs. Lindbergh.

The next ransom note, Note #3, was sent on March 7th, the day after the séance, and it was mailed not to the Lindberghs in Hopewell but rather to Colonel Breckinridge at his office. The note was a simple message asking that the enclosed envelope be delivered to Colonel Lindbergh. The note to Breckinridge was on plain paper and had no signature.

The note to Lindbergh, however, was signed and it referred back to information possibly gleaned at the séance. First, it could have been through the Birritellas that the note writer learned of Henry Breckinridge’s name and his association with the Lindberghs and therefore believed it would be better to send the missive to him rather than to Hopewell because “we know Police interfere with your privatmail.” The writer obviously believed that Lindbergh had not received the March 4th note, probably based upon Breckinridge’s “lie” to the Birritellas.

When the kidnapper(s) sent the second ransom note, it appears that they had planned to hold off on future communications for a while: “We can note make any appointment just now...We will inform you latter where to deliver the money. But we will note to so until the Police is out...” Also, if the Birritellas were indeed sent by the kidnapper(s), they re-enforce the delay in communication by telling Breckinridge that he would receive his next communication from them “within two weeks.” It was then that Breckinridge informs them that that would be too long because Mrs. Lindbergh would not survive. In fact, the séance ended “with emphatic requests from [Breckinridge] to both of them for quick action.” And it was indeed quick action as Ransom Notes 3 and 4 were sent the very next day.

What is interesting about the content of Note #4 (the note addressed to Lindbergh that accompanied the unsigned note to Breckinridge) is that it is an almost exact duplicate of Note #2, including the scolding:

Returning to the holes in the signature symbol, again we now know that Note #1 (3/1/32) and Note #2 (3/4/32) were punched independently of each other and of all the other notes. The next set of notes with holes is Note #4 (3/7/32), Note #6 (3/9/32) and Note #7 (3/12/32). These three notes were all punched together. Note #5 (3/9/32), oddly enough, is not signed and therefore there are no holes. So far, chronologically, only the instructional notes -- Note #3 to Breckinridge and Note #8 (3/12/32) left under the stone at the frankfurter stand – were unsigned. Note #5, however, appears not to be an instructional or directional note but rather a regular communiqué from the kidnapper(s).

The unsigned Note #5 was sent on March 9th to Doctor John F. Condon. It was an important letter in that it tells Condon that he may act as the go-between. One would think that a message from the kidnapper(s) as important as this would require the signature for verification. Included with this note, in its own sealed envelope addressed to Colonel Lindbergh, was Note #6. This letter was signed with the symbol and holes and it tells Lindbergh that Condon may act as the go-between. It goes on to give other instructions regarding the ransom money, the dimensions of the “packet” in which it was to be delivered and it further warns him not to involve the police.
Interestingly, the note goes on to tell Colonel Lindbergh that after the money is exchanged “we will tell you where to find your boy” and that he “may have an airplane ready” as the location is about 150 miles away. But before telling him the “address”, there would be a delay of eight hours.

It almost seems as if Notes 4, 6, 7 were to be the last letters of official communication, with unsigned Note #8 left as a directional note at the frankfurter stand. Note #7, which was signed, was delivered to Dr. Condon on march 12th by taxi driver Joseph Perrone and it gave him instructions to drive to the frankfurter stand on Jerome Avenue where he would find Note #8.
It appears that the kidnapper(s) expected the ransom exchange to take place at this time and that the notepaper with the holes is now used up. Some theories regarding the meeting that followed in Van Cortlandt Park see it not as the expected ransom exchange but rather a meeting between fellow gang members – Condon and “Cemetery John” – when Condon is informed that the baby had died. The content of the notes does not seem to support this; at least from the perspective of Cemetery John and whatever other gang members there may or may not have been. It could, however, have been Condon’s intent to delay the payment at this time for whatever reason, as he did not take the ransom money with him to the cemetery. This speculation needs to be left for another discussion as it is out of the scope of this paper.

What is interesting about Note #5, which is in the middle (so to speak) of the three signed notes is that it is not itself signed. Notes 4, 6 and 7 were punched at the same time, but delivered on three different days: Note 4 on March 7th, Note 6 on march 9th and Note 7 on march 12th. Since Note 5 and Note 6 were delivered together, why was the symbol not used on Note 5?
Could it be that the source of the symbol was not readily available? They had three papers punched available (they were punched at the same time, remember). Did they come up short because of having to re-write Ransom Note #2? This note, Note #4, was an unexpected replacement for the note that Breckinridge told the Birritellas Lindbergh never received. What was going on in the kidnappers’ camp?

Imagine if you will, the kidnapper and/or his gang have a template that is not easy to access. They punch the paper for the Nursery Note, and then put the device away because they want to wait and see what the reaction is to that first note. They take the device and punch the paper for the second note and put it away again. Later, they take the device and punch three papers with the intent of writing Notes 5, 6 and 7. The Birritellas are dispatched to make contact. They report back with the news that Note 2 was never received. Now they need to contact Lindbergh again, this time through Breckinridge. They realize they will need to authenticate their note, so they grab the paper that was intended for Note 5 and use it to write Note 4. Note 3 would need no authentication, it’s just instructional and it would be a waste of punched paper.

Assume, too, that the kidnapper(s) knew ahead of time that they would use Doctor Condon as the go-between. How this came about does not matter here. But it does make sense that the kidnapper(s), who had said more than once that the kidnapping was planned in advance, would have figured out who they would use before reading his letter in the newspaper. Assuming that they knew they would use him, it would make sense for the plan to have been to send Note 5 to him written on punched paper. But they are short one. They know that Note 6, which went to Lindbergh, needed to be signed and that Note 7, telling Condon where he needed to drive to, needed to be signed (else how would he know it was the actual kidnapper(s) telling him what to do? Again, it matters not if he was “in on it”. If he was, they needed to do this “for show”).

So, they have three punched pages, one is used to replace the note that the kidnapper(s) thought never arrived leaving them a page short. Rather than sending an un-punched page, why did they not simply punch three holes? What prevented them from gaining access to the template? Could a similar problem have occurred again? After the March 12th meeting with Condon in the cemetery, the kidnapper(s) said they would send him the child’s sleeping suit. One was sent along with a signed note, but it was mailed after a four-day delay. And, it was most likely mailed from Connecticut. The delay has often been blamed on the kidnapper(s) having the sleeping suit laundered. After all, when Breckinridge looked at it, he asked, “why did they launder it?” That probably never happened as both Lindbergh and the police agreed that it was “similar” to the child’s sleeping suit but they did not believe it was the one he was actually wearing on March 1st. If it was indeed a store bought sleeping suit (or one taken from the nursery by Condon the night he slept in the room) the kidnapper(s) would need to authenticate the package by sending a signed letter. Could the four-day delay have been caused by the need to gain access to the template again? After all, the kidnapper(s) would not have expected to use the template ever again once the ransom was paid on March 12th. When that failed to happen, they needed to scramble to prepare the next note.

Ransom Note 9 does arrive with the sleeping suit on March 16th and it has indeed been punched and the holes line up with all of the previous signed notes. This time, two notes have been punched at once. The shapes of the holes in Note 9 are unique from the previous notes, however they do match the holes on Note 10, which was sent on March 19th.

Now there is a big gap in communications. The next note does not arrive until ten days later! Note 11 arrived on March 29th. It, and Note 12 (April 1st) were also punched at the same time. Why the delay? Was it to throw the police off the trail? Was it to gain access to the template again? Both? Easter fell on March 27th that year; could this somehow have made it difficult to gain access to the template?

Continuing this new tradition of punching pages in pairs – which seems to have been adopted so that there would be enough punched paper to communicate but not too much to have laying around – Note 13 and Note 14 have matching holes.

Note 13 was the note mysteriously delivered to Doctor Condon by the “invisible taxi driver” on April 2nd. However, it is Note 14 that draws attention to itself in that it was another simple instructional or directional note left under a rock at the Bergen Flower Shop. It was the one that directed Condon to “cross the street and walk to the next corner”. There was no need to authenticate this note with the signature as a signed note (Note 13) had directed Condon to it. Also, and even more interesting, the envelope was addressed to Condon with both his name and street address, but with no stamp. Why? Why did the kidnapper(s) feel the need to write out Condon’s full address if the envelope was being left under a rock? The envelope for Note 8 – the one left under a rock at the frankfurter stand – was also addressed in this way. Why? After all, the notes that had led him these hidden notes told him that he would find them there.

Was it addressed so that if someone found it before Condon arrived they would simply have mailed or delivered it to Condon without opening it first? And could this be why the note was signed? So that if it were mailed to him, he would know that it was a legitimate note from the kidnapper(s)? Granted, it would be too late to meet with them that Saturday night, but at least he would realize that he was not double-crossed.

The last note, Note 15 is known as the Boad Nelly Note. This is the note that was given to Doctor Condon after the exchange of the ransom money was made. It is not signed which leads credibility to Condon’s claim that he insisted that he be given a “receipt” for the money. Some speculate that Cemetery John had the note with him all along; however, why would the kidnapper(s) furnish such an important piece of information on an unsigned paper? Why not, when punching the holes for Notes 13 and 14 punch one last page for the final note? Were they going to wait to see if they actually got the ransom money and then use the 8 hours they claimed Lindbergh would have to wait to punch one last paper? Or were they not even planning on providing the location of the baby to him, especially since the baby was lying in a shallow grave in Mercer County?

It is possible that the note was hastily written to fulfill Condon’s request in the cemetery as he claimed. But would a kidnapper or ransom negotiator have taken a fountain pen to a cemetery meeting? A pencil maybe, but an ink pen? And if Cemetery John did happen to have a scrap piece of paper in his pocket, why was he carrying an envelope, too? The note was handed to Condon in a sealed envelope. It should also be pointed out that the Boad Nelly Note is the most neatly and evenly written of all the ransom notes, which should not be possible if written last minute given the stress of the evening as well as the lack of a smooth writing surface not to mention the poor lighting conditions. But, as stated above, if it was prepared ahead of time, why was it not authenticated with the signature?

A study of the ransom note contents raises many more questions than it answers, but they are important questions that force us to try to shed a little more light on the hidden actions of the kidnapper(s). While it is not possible to know for certain what was going on behind the scenes, these questions and theoretical answers may help us to understand not only the world of the kidnapper(s) but also of Condon and others whose actions were in their own ways influencing the content of the ransom notes.

APPENDIX

The Ransom Note “Signatures”

The Greatest Thing Since Otto Rohwedder

2008-07-07T00:01:00.010-04:00

This month’s blog article is not the greatest thing since sliced bread. Rather, it is about sliced bread itself and the man who “invented” it.

Just think about how convenient pre-sliced bread actually is. To make a sandwich for lunch or toast for breakfast – or even grilled cheese for a quick, light dinner – all you need to do is open a bag and remove two pre-cut slices. There’s no need to remove the whole loaf and saw into it, resulting in slices of uneven thickness and a squished loaf.

Imagine if the United States Government banned sliced bread. That’s just what happened on January 18, 1943. Food Administrator Claude R. Wickard banned sliced bread as a wartime conservation measure because “‘…the ready-sliced loaf must have a heavier wrapping than an un-sliced one if it is not to dry out.’” A letter of protest appeared in the January 26, 1943 issue of the New York Times from a “distraught housewife”:

"I should like to let you know how important sliced bread is to the morale and saneness of a household. My husband and four children are all in a rush during and after breakfast. Without ready-sliced bread I must do the slicing for toast – two pieces for each one – that’s ten. For their lunches I must cut by hand at least twenty slices, for two sandwiches apiece. Afterwards I make my own toast. Twenty-two slices of bread to be cut in a hurry!”

In the same issue of the Times, New York Area Supervisor of the Food Distribution Administration John F. Conaboy announced that the sliced bread ban would continue. It was not until March 8, 1943 that the ban was finally lifted. The headline “Sliced Bread Put Back on Sale; Housewives’ Thumbs Safe Again; Wickard Rescinds Ban of Jan. 18…” appeared in the New York Times the following day.

How did this reliance on bakery sliced bread come about? The age-old expression that something is the “greatest thing since sliced bread” needs a reference point in time. How long ago did sliced bread come about? One might guess with the invention of the knife but one would be wrong. Unlike the invention of the wheel we not only know when sliced bread was invented but by whom.

Bakery sliced bread came about on July 7, 1928 thanks to Otto Frederick Rohwedder of Davenport, Iowa. According to Modern Mechanics and Inventions, “one of the newest conveniences for the housewife and dining place operators, and one of the most far reaching, is the…automatic bread slicer invented by O.F. Rohwedder…”

Otto Rohwedder knew the problems faced by housewives when they tried to slice bakery bread with a thick crust and soft interior crumb. In a word, it smushed. Not to mention many thumbs were cut, as alluded to in the aforementioned New York Times article. As early as 1912 he began to develop an automated bread slicer. His research included interviewing over 30,000 housewives “for the purpose of determining a thickness of slice which would be most nearly universal in acceptance”.

Bakeries, however, were not too keen on the idea initially, claiming that the sliced bread would go stale too quickly. By 1928, however, he had developed a machine that would not only slice the bread but wrap it as well.

The wrapping of the loaf took care of the staleness issue. But there was still the problem of a smushed loaf. The Modern Mechanics article stated that, “it was impossible to satisfactorily slice bread, a slice at a time…Simultaneously cutting all the slices of a loaf in a single operation” was the answer. It went on to describe Rohwedder’s machine:

“Two banks of thin sharp steel blades are utilized…The cutting edges are all I nthe same plane and alternated so that while one blade moves upward its immediate neighbor moves downward…As the blades pass through the soft bread, the loaf closes immediately behind the blades and keeps the air out. These perfect surfaces fit snugly against each other and adhere surprisingly, thus retaining the freshness of the loaf.”

The bakers who initially scoffed at Rohwedder’s idea were now hailing it as “the greatest single advance in baker procedure in almost a quarter of a century.”

Rohwedder’s invention impacted more than just the loaf itself. Think about the way you store and open a loaf of bread you buy in the grocery store today. This was not done before July 7, 1928! Thanks to Rohwedder, “instead of removing the entire wrapper at the time of serving the bread, the wrapper is opened at one end and folded back. This discloses a shallow paper carton in which the loaf rests in a succession of closely adjacent slices. These slices are neat and exact. Only by mechanical means could this precision be obtained.”

The first bakery to use Rohwedder’s bread slicer was the M.F. Bench’s Chillicothe Baking Company on July 7, 1928, Rohwedder’s 48th birthday. Located at 100 Elm Street in Chillicothe, Missouri, the bakery sold “Kleen Maid Sliced Bread”.

According to his biography on http://www.findagrave.com/, Rohwedder sold his invention to the Micro-Westco Co. of Bettendorf, Iowa, and he became vice-president and sales manager of the Rohwedder Bakery Machine Division of Micro-Westco.

Otto Rohwedder retired to Albion, Michigan in 1951. He died on November 8, 1960 at the age of 80.

____________________________
References

100 Hour Board. Brigham Young University. http://theboard.byu.edu/index.php?area=viewall&id=22757, as of July 7, 2008

Find A Grave. http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=8085036, as of July 7, 2008.

Modern Mechanics and Inventions. November 1929. Pages 100-101.

New York Times. March 9, 1943. “Sliced Bread Put Back on Sale…” http://select.nytimes.com/gst/abstract.html?res=FA061FFF3C59147B93CBA91788D85F478485F9&scp=1&sq=sliced+bread&st=p, as of July 7, 2008.

Wikipedia. Sliced Bread. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sliced_bread, as of July 7, 2008.

Trooper Doughboy

2008-06-01T00:01:00.004-04:00

“Doughboy” was more than just a mascot; he was an honorary Trooper and considered as much a member of the New Jersey State Police as any member of the K9 Unit is today. He was the “fifth member of the State Police force” at the Columbus Station. “When Sergeant Haussling left here on calls the dog always went with him. When a prisoner got rough, Doughboy also would get in the melee.”

Like many of the early New Jersey State Troopers, Doughboy was an immigrant from Germany. He was born during the First World War and was originally owned by a German officer. One night he wandered over “No Man’s Land” to the American trenches. There, Captain Robert G. Hamilton of the American Expeditionary Force adopted him, eventually bringing him home to New Jersey.

In 1921 Robert Hamilton and Doughboy took rôles in the silent film Ten Nights In The Bar Room. Released in December 1921, the film was directed by Oscar Apfel. Based on Timothy Shay Arthur’s novel of the same name, the movie was a propaganda film supporting the Temperance Movement. In it, a mill owner loses his mortgage, and the life of his daughter, because of his drinking problem. Hamilton had a bit part as the “foreman of the mill”, and Doughboy role was to “howl when the drunkard’s daughter died. To get Doughboy to howl, they played a mouth organ just out of range of the camera.”

Doughboy joined the State Police when Hamilton enlisted in 1922 as a member of the 2nd Class. Interestingly, Hamilton enlisted with the rank of Captain. He brought Doughboy with him to Wilburtha (West Trenton). It was while he was stationed at Wilburtha in 1925 that Doughboy learned to ride a motorcycle. Later, he and Hamilton were transferred to the barracks in Columbus, New Jersey. When Captain Hamilton retired in 1927, he left Doughboy in the care of the Troopers stationed there.

Doughboy never learned to like the “mouth organ” as can be evidenced by the now famous photograph of him “singing” as Trooper William O. Sawyer plays his harmonica. While Sawyer insisted Doughboy was trying to sing along, his fellow Troopers asserted that he was “trying to ‘howl down’ the Trooper in order that the ‘shame’ of his playing ability may not be broadcast over the countryside.’”

On September 4, 1932(?), Doughboy became ill. His fellow Troopers tried to nurse him back to health and even administered medicine to him, but on the morning of September 6th they awoke and found he had died during the night.

Doughboy was granted a full State Police funeral. He was transported to Wilburtha Barracks, present day Division Headquarters, where he was buried with military honors, “wearing a blanket bearing the initials of the New Jersey state police – ‘N. J. S. P.’”

Doughboy served the New Jersey State Police for twelve years and was about 14 years old when he died.
______________
Sources:
“Trooper Doughboy” Dotes on Army Sort of Uniform.” Unidentified newspaper.
“Dog of War and Actor Dies; Pet of Columbus Troopers.” Unidentified newspaper.
“Ten Nights in a Barroom (1913).” Internet Movie Database. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0003438
“Ten Nights in a Bar Room (1921).” Internet Movie Database. http://www.indb.com/title/tt0013660

The First NJSP Civilian Killed "In the Line of Duty"

2008-05-01T00:00:00.001-04:00

On December 19, 1924, the headlines of a local New Jersey newspaper read: "TROOPER SLAIN BY CAPTIVE; ONE DEATH IN HUNT: One Man Believed To Be Balked Bandit Kills Officer Near Mansville."

Those headlines were in regards to the murder of Trooper Robert Coyle #64, the first New Jersey State Trooper murdered in the line of duty. The story of Trooper Coyle's death is well documented in State Police history. However, there was an additional sub-headline that is not remembered: "Mechanic Is Killed and Another Hurt in Accident While Seeking Slayer: Cycle Hits Truck In Search." That mechanic was State Police civilian employee William Morton.

On the afternoon of December 18, 1924 Troopers John Gregovesir and Robert Coyle foiled an attempt to steal the $6,400 payroll of the Bound Brook Stone Company at Chimney Rock in Martinsville, New Jersey. The Troopers were escorting the suspect to the Plukemin Sub-Station for questioning.

"The two Troopers sat in the front seat leaving the suspect unattended in the back seat. While driving along the highway near Chimney Rock...the suspect suddenly shouted 'Hands up!' Trooper Coyle, who was riding in the passenger seat, turned and the man fired a blank directly into Coyle's face. The man then wrested Coyle's revolver from him and fired two shots into Trooper Coyle's back. He died immediately."

The payroll suspect turned murderer fled the scene and a manhunt ensued. At 2:30 in morning the following day, State Police civilian mechanic William Morton was riding in the sidecar of Trooper Harry Lindermann's motorcycle. They were searching for Coyle's murderer, but it is not known why a civilian mechanic was riding with the Trooper.

As they travelled between New Brunswick and Metuchen, they didn't realize that two trucks had pulled into the Lincoln Garage for gasoline. The trucks projected out into the street, their rear lights obstructed by tail boards. Linderman was able to avoid the first truck but he wasn't so lucky with the second one. He collided into a truck owned by the Phillips Company of Philadelphia.

The motorcycle continued another fifty feet before it overturned. Trooper Lindermann suffered a broken wrist and lacerations. Morton was thrown from the sidecar into a field, fracturing his skull as he landed on the ground. He died shortly thereafter.

Fred Davis, the County Detective investigating the case, declared the tragedy an accident. However, Lindermann was "held on a technical charge of manslaughter." Morton was taken to Gowan's morgue in New Brunswick and his funeral was held a few days later. He was survived by his wife and daughter.

Mystery Man

2008-04-01T00:01:00.010-04:00

The photograph attached to this article is one of the most popular from the Hauptmann Trial. It shows New Jersey State Trooper Hugo Stockburger leading Bruno Richard Hauptmann into the courtroom in Flemington, followed by his attorney Edward J. Reilly. Behind him is Deputy Sheriff Hovey Lowe.

Take a close look at the photo. Until recently the only bit of trivia attached to this photograph was the fact that Stockburger is leading Hauptmann by the wrist – without using handcuffs. When asked about this, Stockburger explained that this was because of Walter Winchell.
In the 1930s and 1940s, Winchell was a very influential and powerful journalist. He had a syndicated newspaper article as well as a radio program. He was a close friend with both Owney Madden – New York’s top mafia boss – as well as J. Edgar Hoover. A mention in his column or radio show could make or break someone.

According to Stockburger, Hauptmann was led into the courtroom on the first day of the trial in handcuffs. Winchell saw this and was outraged. “This is America! Here we are innocent until proven guilty. Take those handcuffs off!”

And so they did. From that point on until his conviction, Hauptmann was led from his jail cell to the door of the courtroom in handcuffs. They were then removed and he was taken by the wrist and led into the courtroom. “It was ridiculous,” said Stockburger. “All he had to do was snap his arm down and he could break free, not that he could go anywhere.”

Until recently this was all we knew about the photograph. But there is another story to be told. Take another look at the photo. Notice that everyone is all looking in the same direction, towards the camera. That is, all except for one. The guy standing in the back with the glasses wearing a suit jacket and vest is not looking at the camera; rather he is looking at Hauptmann. Why? Old timers from Flemington already know the answer to this, or at least they should.

This gentleman is Benjamin “Ben” Karrow. He had the tailor shop on Main Street in Flemington and owned the only steam press in Hunterdon County at that time. According to his granddaughter, New Jersey State Assemblywoman Marcia Karrow, every night Ben would go to the Flemington jail and pick up Hauptmann’s suit to take to his store to press it. He would then return it the next morning and dress Hauptmann. He would be in the halls as Hauptmann was taken into court, so he ended up in almost every photograph with him. In this photo he can be seen checking out his work!

As the trial dragged on, reporters such as Winchell needed more clothes. They asked Karrow if he could help them out. He sent his son, Solomon “Sol” Karrow to Manhattan to buy suites for the reporters and this is how the new family business, “Karrow Menswear” got started.
Born on August 8, 1894 Ben Karrow was known around town as a very generous philanthropist and during the Great Depression he let families buy clothes on credit. He helped out the families in rural Hunterdon County as much as possible and was greatly admired by just about everyone in the county.

An Orthodox Jew, he sold the first Israel Bonds in the 1940s and was one of the first Americans invited to the newly created state of Israel in 1948, flying there with James Grover McDonald, the first American Ambassador to Israel.When Ben died in May 1982 he was buried with a Torah, one of the greatest honors for an Orthodox Jew and an honor well deserved by this generous and much loved man.

Timeline of Events: March 1, 1932

2008-03-01T00:01:00.003-05:00

In 2004, I compiled a timeline of events for March 1, 1932. Based upon the actual statements and testimony of the people living at the Lindbergh Estate in Hopewell and Mrs. Lindbergh's mother's estate in Englewood, the timeline is an attempt to show not only where everyone was and what they were doing at a specific time, but also to show the contradictions in their sworn statements and testimony. What the contradictions mean, I do not know; that is up for researchers to decide.

The descriptions given below are in the words of those who witnessed the events first hand. Major Lanphier is the only exception. His statement is based upon comments made to him by Colonel Lindbergh and is considered by most historians to be Lindbergh's unofficial account of the events.

It is hoped that this timeline will be of assistance to researchers, "Lindbergh kidnapping buffs" and potential authors as they try to figure out "who was where when". As you can see by the contradictory nature of the statements and testimony, that is not easy to figure out.

The limitations of this website made the layout difficult. A PDF version in a slightly different layout may be obtained free of charge my e-mailing me at mwfalzini[at]yahoo.com (replace the [at] with @). Please note that while the copyright for both the PDF version and this blog version is held by me students, authors and researchers are free to quote from this provided proper credit is given.

In addition to Charles and Anne Lindbergh, the following individuals are quoted throughout the time line:

Septimus S. Banks – butler at the Morrow estate
Henry Ellerson – chauffeur for the Morrow family
Betty Gow – the Lindbergh baby’s Scottish nanny
Henry “Red” Johnson – Betty Gow’s Norwegian boyfriend
Johannes Junge – husband of Marguerite Junge
Marguerite Junge – seamstress at the Morrow estate and the wife of Johannes Junge
John Kristofek – a neighbor of Lindbergh’s
Joseph Kuchta – a neighbor of Lindbergh’s
Major Lanphier – Lindbergh’s closest personal friend
Sebastian Benjamin Lupica – a teenage neighbor of Lindbergh’s
Elizabeth McDonald – Mrs. Morrow’s personal maid
Elizabeth Morrow – mother of Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Violet Sharp – waitress and maid at the Morrow estate who later committed suicide
Arthur Springer – head of household staff at the Morrow estate
Elsie Whateley – the Lindberghs’ English cook and wife of Olly Whateley
Olly Whateley – the Lindbergh’s English butler and husband of Elsie Whateley
Charles Williamson – Deputy Police Chief in Hopewell
Harry Wolfe – Police Chief in Hopewell

6:00 AM
Elsie Whateley (Testimony 1/4/35)
Elsie gets up and feeds the baby orange juice and rubs his chest with VICS

6:30 AM
Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Elsie gets up and feeds the baby orange juice, a bit of toast, rubbed his chest and tucked him in bed.

9:00 AM
Anne Morrow Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne eats breakfast.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Anne eats breakfast

Arthur Springer (Statement 4/12/32)
Arrives at his office at Next Day Hill

9:30 AM[1]
Elsie Whateley(Statement 3/10/32)
Upstairs arranging beds.

Unknown Time in Morning
Elizabeth Morrow (Statement 3/16/32)
Receives phone message from Anne saying “…she would be glad to have Betty come down and help her with the care of the baby. She had been making inquiries about the train to Princeton, but I told her that Henry Ellerson…was free and there was no reasons why he could not bring Betty down.”

10:00 AM
Joseph Kuchta (Statement 3/2/32)
Sees a large, dark blue touring car with curtains drawn coming down the road very slowly towards Lindbergh’s driveway. The driver had a stout face and the passenger a long slim face.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Comes downstairs and Olly tells her that Mrs. Lindbergh asked him to find out the train schedule for Betty Gow.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Septimus Banks tells Betty “…he didn’t think it was necessary…to take the train, as one of [the] cars could be used.” Calls Henry Johnson; leaves message for him to call her at Next Day Hill.

Septimus Banks (Statement 4/15/32)
Arranges for Betty to be driven to Hopewell after she calls him in the pantry asking him to look up a train that would connect with Englewood Station and Jersey City with a 2:40 train leaving from Jersey City to Hopewell. “On consideration I thought perhaps there might be some missing of trains, I arranged for Henry Ellerson to take her in the car…”[2]

Anne Morrow Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne is very tired; decides to have Betty Gow come down to Highfields. Anne asks Olly to phone the train station for train times. Whateley calls Englewood and calls Betty Gow to the phone. She and Anne speak and Anne tells her to come down to Highfields. Betty Gow calls back and tells Anne that Henry was not busy and asks if it would be all right to come down with him in the automobile.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne asks Olly to phone the train station for train times. Whateley calls Englewood and calls Betty Gow to the phone. She and Anne speak and Anne tells her to come down to Highfields.
Whateley tells Betty the train schedule. Betty Gow calls back and tells Anne that Henry was not busy and asks if it would be all right to come down with him in the automobile.

10:30 AM
Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Anne Lindbergh tells Whateley to look up train times from Englewood to Hopewell. Olly calls Betty Gow and tells her to take a train that would bring her into Hopewell about 3:30 PM. Betty calls back and tells Olly that due to the delay in waiting for the train she had obtained permission from Mrs. Morrow to have one of the Morrow chauffeurs drive her down. Olly gives this information to Anne who approves it.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty Gow receives telephone message from Anne to go to Hopewell by train. Betty Gow gets in touch with Mrs. Morrow who suggests going to Hopewell by car. Betty leaves for Hopewell with Henry Ellerson “…at exactly 10:30.” “We didn’t make any stops, went straight here and arrived here at 2:00.” Betty and Henry Ellerson stop at a drug store after leaving Englewood. “I bought something for the baby’s cold that Mrs. Lindbergh told me to get.”[3]

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty Gow receives telephone message from Anne to go to Hopewell by train. Betty calls Anne and tells her of what Mrs. Morrow said and Anne approves. Betty calls Henry Johnson and leaves a message for him to call her at Next Day Hill.

11:00 AM
Major Lanphier (Statement 3/19/32)
Anne phones Englewood asking Betty to come to Hopewell.

11:30 AM
Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Olly tells Elsie that he had “just received a phone call from Betty saying that Mrs. Morrow decided to let her come down by auto so that she would save time.”

Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty Gow was notified to go to Hopewell.

Septimus Banks (Statement 4/15/32)
Betty Gow leaves for Hopewell with Henry Ellerson.

Violet Sharp (Statement 5/24/32)
Betty Gow leaves for Hopewell with Henry Ellerson.

11:45 AM
Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty leaves for Hopewell with Henry Ellerson. They stop at a drugstore “…to buy something…”

Henry Ellerson (Statement 3/11/32)
Betty leaves for Hopewell with Henry Ellerson “…stopping at a drugstore for candy.”

12:00 Noon
Elizabeth MacDonald (Statement 4/13/32)
Elizabeth MacDonald (Mrs. Morrow’s personal maid) learns that Betty Gow had already left for Hopewell.

Marguerite Junge (Statement 3/7/32)
Betty Gow runs into sewing room at Next Day Hill “all excited” and tells Marguerite she has to go to Hopewell because “the baby is sick.” She leaves a message with Marguerite to be passed along to Henry Johnson when he calls.

1:00 PM
Arthur Springer (Statement 4/12/32)
Arthur Springer leaves for lunch.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne puts the baby down for his nap. Betty and chauffeur arrive at Highfields.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne puts the baby down for his nap. Nursery shutters closed; French window is open. Betty and chauffeur arrive at Highfields.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/32)
Anne puts the baby down for his nap. Anne goes for a walk.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty and chauffeur arrive at Highfields.

1:20 PM
Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty and chauffeur arrive at Highfields.

1:30 PM
Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Betty and chauffeur arrive at Highfields.

Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Henry, the chauffeur, has lunch and then leaves.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty goes into nursery; she washed, bathed and fed the baby.

1:45 PM
Henry Ellerson (Statement 3/11/32)
Betty and chauffeur arrive at Highfields.

2:00 PM
Arthur Springer (Statement 4/12/32)
Arthur Springer returns from lunch.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty and chauffeur arrive at Highfields. Betty sees Mrs. Lindbergh before having lunch. Betty and chauffeur eat lunch.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty and Chauffeur arrive at Highfields. Betty and chauffeur eat lunch.

2:30 PM
Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty goes up to nursery, picks up baby and dresses him. Betty remains with baby until 5:00 PM. Anne comes from her room to join Betty in the nursery.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty goes up to nursery, picks up baby and dresses him. Betty remains with baby until 4:30 PM.

Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Anne and Betty go together to the nursery and Elsie eventually joins them. While Elsie is in the nursery, Anne is outside throwing pebbles up to the window.[4]

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Betty picks up baby; gives him prune juice and tends to him.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne and Betty go together into the nursery. Betty tends to the baby and dresses him.

2:45 PM
Henry Ellerson (Statement 3/11/32)
Henry Ellerson leaves Hopewell; notices at the end of Lindbergh’s driveway a green Ford coupe in the road facing in the direction of Hopewell. It had one person in it, but it did not move when he honked his horn.

3:00 PM
Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty is in the nursery.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Between 3:00 and 5:00 Anne goes for a walk down the driveway and back.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Between 3:00 and 5:00 Anne goes for a walk down the driveway and back.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/32)
Anne walks under the nursery window, leaving footprints and throws pebbles to get Betty’s attention.[5]

4:00 PM
Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty is in the nursery.

Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty is in the nursery. Elsie goes downstairs for tea, shortly after watching the baby. Anne returns to the nursery and asks Betty to bring the baby downstairs.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Elsie and Anne visit the baby in the nursery and all three watched him playing. Elsie goes downstairs for tea, shortly after watching the baby.

Elsie Whateley (Testimony 1/4/35)
Elsie and Anne visit the baby in the nursery and all three watched him playing.

4:30 PM
Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Elsie visits Betty in nursery and stays for a half hour.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Elsie and Anne enter the nursery. Anne and Elsie leave nursery. Betty follows shortly after with the baby.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty brings the baby downstairs into the living room where Anne was having tea. Betty, Elsie and Olly have tea in the servants’ sitting room.

Elsie Whateley (Testimony 1/4/35)
Elsie goes downstairs to make tea. Betty and Elsie have tea in the servants’ sitting room.

Unknown Time in the Afternoon
Elsie Whateley (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty asks Elsie for a white thread but is given a blue thread as Elsie had no white thread.

5:00 PM
Arthur Springer (Statement 4/12/32)
Arthur Springer returns home after work.

Henry Ellerson (Statement 3/11/32)
Henry Ellerson arrives back in Englewood.

Ben Lupica (Statement 3/2/32)
Ben Lupica leaves Princeton Prep School.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty Gow is in the nursery. Anne enters the nursery. The baby wants to go downstairs and Anne approves. Betty takes the baby downstairs to Mrs. Lindbergh in the sitting room and leaves him there with her and the baby has tea with Mrs. Lindbergh.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty and Elsie have tea in the servants’ sitting room. Anne suggests taking the baby downstairs. Betty takes the baby downstairs to Mrs. Lindbergh in the sitting room and leaves him there with her and the baby has tea with Mrs. Lindbergh.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne returns from her walk and goes up to the nursery. Anne suggests taking the baby downstairs.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne returns from her walk and goes up to the nursery where she finds Betty, Elsie and the baby. Anne takes the baby to the living room alone and lets him run around downstairs. Baby runs into kitchen.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/32)
Baby has tea with Mrs. Lindbergh[6]

5:30 PM
Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty brings the baby back upstairs to his room and sits with him until she washes him for supper.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Elsie and Betty are in the kitchen. The baby comes into the kitchen and speaks to Elsie. He then runs around the table once or twice. Betty takes him by the hand and takes him upstairs. Betty reads to the baby.

Elsie Whateley (Testimony 1/4/35)
The baby comes into the kitchen and speaks to Elsie. He then runs around the table once or twice. Betty takes him by the hand and takes him upstairs.

5:45 PM
Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Baby runs into kitchen, runs around the table a few times and speaks to Elsie. Betty then takes the baby to the nursery and leaves him alone for 1 minute while she gets his cereal.

6:00 PM
John Kristofek (Statement 3/2/32)
Lindbergh neighbor John Kristofek sees a large, dark colored touring car with curtains drawn going in the direction of Skillman.

Ben Lupica (Statement 3/2/32)
Ben Lupica sees a black Dodge sedan coming around the bend at Lindbergh’s driveway on Wertsville Road with ladders across the top of the seats.

Ben Lupica (Statement 4/4/32)
Ben Lupica sees a black Dodge sedan coming around the bend at Lindbergh’s driveway on Wertsville Road with ladders across the top of the seats.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty, Elsie and Olly in kitchen. Baby runs into kitchen and says “Hello, Elsie!” Betty chases him around the table and takes him upstairs followed by Anne.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Baby walks into kitchen.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Baby runs into kitchen. Baby eats supper with Betty and she prepares him for bed.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Baby eats supper with Betty and she prepares him for bed. Anne enters nursery just as bay was finished with his supper. She remains until approximately 7pm when Betty asks her to go downstairs for some thread and scissors so she can make a little flannel shirt for the baby.

Betty Gow (Statement (3/10/32)
Betty leaves the baby for 2 minutes while she gets his cereal from downstairs.

Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Baby eats supper with Betty and she prepares him for bed.

6:15 PM
Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne returns to nursery; baby almost finished eating.[7]

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Anne returns to nursery; baby almost finished eating.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Anne returns to nursery; baby almost finished eating.

Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty and Anne prepare baby for bed. Betty decides to give him a physic, which he spills on his nightclothes. She undresses him again and decides to make a “proper little flannel shirt to put on next to his skin.” Betty leaves nursery and asks Elsie for scissors and thread. Elsie gives her the scissors and brings the thread to her later.

6:15 – 7:20 PM
(times not specific in statements)
Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
After supper but before tending to the baby, both Anne and Betty fasten shutters in the nursery.
Anne is in the nursery and gives the baby medicine and nose drops. She leaves the nursery at one point to get a needle and thread and flannel so Betty can sew a shirt for him.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne and Betty are with the baby in the nursery, straightening the room, closing the shutters and attending to him. Anne goes out of the room once to speak to Colonel Lindbergh on the telephone. He tells her he will be late coming home. Anne then goes to get needle and thread for Betty.[8]

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Anne and Betty are with the baby in the nursery, straightening the room, closing the shutters and attending to him. Betty and Anne both take care of the baby. They put drops in his nose, rub his chest and give him a physic and then change his nightdress. Betty and Anne both decide a shirt should be made for the baby to replace the flannel bandage already on him.[9] Anne leaves the room to get scissors and thread. Anne plays with the baby while Betty cuts and stitches the flannel shirt.

7:00 PM
Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty asks Anne to go downstairs for some thread and scissors so she can make a little flannel shirt for the baby. Betty makes the flannel shirt for the baby.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Colonel Lindbergh calls and tells Anne that he will be a little late getting home.

7:30 PM
Ernie Miller (Statement 6/11/32)
Ernie Miller picks up Elmer Johnson and then Katherine Minners.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Baby put to bed. Betty and Anne close and lock shutters except for the warped shutter. Both Betty and Anne leave the nursery and the baby was lying in bed and Betty closes the door. Betty washes-up in the bathroom.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty puts homemade t-shirt on baby and puts him to bed and then Anne and Betty both go around to the windows, shutting the shutters. Betty opens one window in the rear of the room. “This window opens inward. I opened the window half-way.”[10] Anne leaves nursery before Betty. Betty puts light out and closes the door tight. Both doors to nursery are closed. Betty goes into the baby’s bathroom and washes some of the baby’s clothes. She remains in there until 8:00 PM.

Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty opens the French window. Betty and Anne close and lock shutters except for the warped shutter.

Anne Lindbergh (3/11/32)
Baby put to bed. Anne leaves the nursery before Betty and goes to her desk in the living room. She does not see which window Betty opens. Library lights are off. Connecting door between living room and library is closed.

Anne Lindbergh (3/13/32)
Baby put to bed. Anne leaves nursery and goes immediately to the living room and sits at her desk to await Colonel Lindbergh’s arrival. Connecting door between living room and library is closed. Library lights are off.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Baby put to bed. Anne leaves nursery at sits at her desk in the living room for an hour.

Major Lanphier (Statement 3/19/32)
Baby is put to bed. Anne leaves nursery and sits at desk in living room for an hour.

7:30 – 8:25 PM
(times not specific in statements)
Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne stays at her desk “listening for Colonel Lindbergh…looking at my watch all the time, waiting for him.”

Major Lanphier (Statement 3/19/32)
Anne waits in library for Colonel Lindbergh to arrive. Anne hears sound of car on gravel.

7:45 PM
Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Olly has supper. Elsie prepares the family’s supper.

Elsie Whateley (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty comes down to the kitchen and Olly suggests that she and Elsie eat dinner.

7:50 PM
Violet Sharp (Statement 4/13/32)
Violet receives phone call from a man [Ernie] asking her to meet him.

Marguerite Junge (Statement 3/7/32)
Marguerite Junge goes to her husband’s room at 96 Engle Street and finds Red Johnson there.

Johannes Junge (Statement 4/14/32)
Marguerite Junge goes to her husband’s room at 96 Engle Street and finds Red Johnson there.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty re-enters nursery. She pins the covers to the mattress, puts out the bathroom light and her bedroom light and goes downstairs to the cellar to hang up some of the clothes she had washed in the bathroom sink. Betty returns to the servants’ sitting room and eats supper with Elsie.

8:00 PM
Johannes Junge (Statement 3/9/32)
Henry Johnson arrives at Johannes Junge’s room at 96 Engle Street, Englewood, NJ.

Johannes Junge (Statement 4/14/32)
Henry Johnson arrives at Johannes Junge’s room at 96 Engle Street, Englewood, NJ.

Ernie Miller (Statement 6/11/32)
Ernie Miller arrives at the gate to Next Day Hill and waits for Violet Sharp.

Violet Sharp (Statement 3/10/32)
Violet Sharp receives phone call from a man [Ernie] asking her to meet him.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty finishes washing up in the bathroom and re-enters the nursery, finding the baby asleep.
Betty leaves the nursery and tells Mrs. Lindbergh that the baby is fast asleep. She then goes to eat supper with the cook, Elsie Whateley, in the kitchen. Elsie leaves Betty alone while she eats. Betty turns on the radio after supper and sits alone, reading a book for 5 minutes. The butler, Olly Whateley, calls Betty to the phone. Betty returns to the sitting room where she sat alone for 10 minutes before being joined by Elsie. Elsie suggests that Betty go upstairs with her to look at new clothes.

Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty comes downstairs and tells Anne that she looked in on the baby, pinned him into the bed and that he had gone to sleep immediately and was breathing easily. Betty eats dinner with Elsie while Olly is in the pantry.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Betty comes downstairs and tells Anne that she looked in on the baby, pinned him into the bed and that he had gone to sleep immediately and was breathing easily.

Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty comes down from the nursery into the sitting room and eats dinner with Olly and Elsie.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Olly and Elsie prepare dinner for the Lindberghs in the kitchen. Betty goes into the sitting room and reads and puts on the radio. Wahgoosh is in the sitting room in his basket..

8:05 – 8:10 PM
Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne thinks she hears the sound of car wheels on gravel.

8:15 PM
Ernie Miller (Statement 6/11/32)
Tired of waiting for Violet Sharp, Ernie Miller drives his car up to the Morrow house and stops by the pantry entrance.[11]

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Olly suggests that Betty and Elsie eat their dinner.

Major Lanphier (Statement 3/19/32)
Colonel Lindbergh arrives home and blows his horn.

8:20 PM
Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Olly, Elsie and Betty sit around until Colonel Lindbergh arrives. Olly and Elsie prepare and serve dinner for the Lindberghs.

Elsie Whateley (Testimony 1/4/35)
Colonel Lindbergh arrives.

8:25 PM
Charles Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Colonel Lindbergh arrives home.

Charles Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/32)
Colonel Lindbergh arrives home.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne hears Colonel Lindbergh’s car and horn.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne hears Colonel Lindbergh’s car and horn “at least fifteen minutes” after hearing the sound of car wheels on gravel.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Anne hears Colonel Lindbergh’s car and horn.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Elsie gets up to attend to Colonel Lindbergh’s supper. Betty finishes eating alone.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Elsie hears Colonel Lindbergh’s horn. She returns to the kitchen to hurry-up the dinner and Whateley assisted her.

8:30 PM
Violet Sharp (Statement 3/10/32)
Violet notices a man [Ernie] outside the pantry door.

Violet Sharp (Statement 5/24/32)
Violet notices a man [Ernie] outside the pantry door.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty hears Colonel Lindbergh blow his horn.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh go upstairs to their bathroom for 5 minutes where he washes his hands.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh go upstairs to their bathroom for 5 minutes where he washes his hands.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh go upstairs to their bathroom for 5 minutes where he washes his hands.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty remains in the sitting room listening to the radio.

Johannes Junge (Statement 3/9/32)
Henry Johnson leaves Johannes Junge’s room to call Betty Gow.

Johannes Junge (Statement 4/14/32)
Henry Johnson leaves Johannes Junge’s room to call Betty Gow.

8:35 PM
Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh eat supper. After supper, Anne and Colonel Lindbergh enter living room. Anne sits on sofa “for a very short time [not] more than a minute or two.” Colonel Lindbergh takes a bath.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh eat supper. After supper, Anne and Colonel Lindbergh enter living room and sit by the fire for not more than 5 minutes. Anne and Colonel Lindbergh go upstairs into their bedroom for 10 – 15 minutes, talking. Colonel Lindbergh takes a bath.

8:40 PM
Marguerite Junge (Statement 3/7/32)
Henry Johnson leaves Johannes Junge’s apartment to call Betty Gow.

8:45 PM
Henry Johnson (Statement 3/8/32)
Henry Johnson calls Betty Gow in Hopewell.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Olly calls Betty to the phone. Betty returns to the servants’ sitting room telling Elsie who was on the phone and then turns on the radio.[12] Elsie and Olly join Betty in the sitting room. Elsie asks Betty to join her upstairs to look at dresses.

9:00 PM
Joseph Kuchta (Statement 3/2/32)
Lindbergh neighbor Joseph Kuchta hears his dog barking. “I followed the sound of his bark and he seemed to be running toward the Lindbergh estate near the chicken coops. He barked for about 4 or 5 minutes and there were sharp yelps as though he was chasing somebody.”

Joseph Kristofek (Statement 3/2/32)
Lindbergh neighbor Joseph Kristofek hears his dog barking down towards the Lindbergh estate for 5 – 10 minutes.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
The telephone rings and Whateley answers and calls Betty to the phone. Betty tells Henry Johnson was on the phone and why he called. Anne and Colonel Lindbergh finish their dinner a little after 9:00. Elsie and Olly clear the table, wash and dry the dishes. Olly and Elsie finish washing dishes and join Betty in the sitting room and sat talking until 9:15. Betty remains in the sitting room.

Elsie Whateley (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty is in the servants’ sitting room. Elsie and Olly clear the dinner table, wash and dry the dishes.

Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Olly and Elsie finish washing the dishes and join Betty in the sitting room and sat talking until 9:15.

Charles Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh finish dinner and enter living room. Colonel Lindbergh hears a noise.

Charles Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh finish dinner and enter living room. Colonel Lindbergh ears a noise.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh finish their dinner a little after 9:00

9:10 PM
Marguerite Junge (Statement 3/7/32)
Henry Johnson returns to 96 Engle Street after talking with Betty Gow on the telephone.

Johannes Junge (Statement 3/9/32)
Henry Johnson returns to 96 Engle Street after talking with Betty Gow on the telephone.

9:15 PM
Charles Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh go upstairs to their bedroom.

Charles Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh go upstairs to their bedroom.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/32)
Anne and Colonel Lindbergh go upstairs to their bedroom.

Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Elsie and Betty go upstairs to Elsie’s room to try on dresses. Olly remains in living room reading a newspaper. Elsie and Betty go upstairs to Elsie’s room to try on dresses.

9:20 – 9:40 PM
Marguerite Junge (Statement 3/7/32)
Henry Johnson, Marguerite and Johannes Junge go to a coffee house.

Johannes Junge (Statement 3/9/32)
Henry Johnson, Marguerite and Johannes Junge go to a coffee house.

Johannes Junge (Statement 4/14/32)
Henry Johnson, Marguerite and Johannes Junge go to a coffee house.

9:30 PM
Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Colonel Lindbergh enters the library. Anne remains upstairs and draws a bath.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)[13]
Colonel Lindbergh enters the library. Anne remains upstairs and draws a bath.

9:45 PM
Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne walks down hall to get toothpaste from baby’s room. She does not turn on the lights and she returns immediately to her bedroom.

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne walks down hall to get toothpaste from baby’s room. She does not turn on the lights and she returns immediately to her bedroom.

10:00 PM
Ernie Miller (Statement 6/11/32)
Violet Sharp and her friends leave the Peanut Grill.

Marguerite Junge (Statement 3/7/32)
Henry Johnson, Marguerite and Johannes Junge go for a car ride around Hudson Drive.[14]

Johannes Junge (Statement 3/9/32)
Henry Johnson, Marguerite and Johannes Junge go for a car ride around Hudson Drive.

Johannes Junge (Statement 4/14/32)
Henry Johnson, Marguerite and Johannes Junge go for a car ride around Hudson Drive.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/3/32)
Elsie and Olly are in the kitchen. Betty checks on the baby at approximately 9:57 PM. She enters the bathroom and puts on the heater. She then opens the door to the nursery and walks over to the window and closes it. She turns on the heater in the nursery and walks over to the crib, discovering that the baby is missing. Betty walks into Anne’s room through the bathroom door and asks if she has picked up the baby. Betty runs downstairs to Colonel Lindbergh and asks “…if he knew where the baby was.”

After Colonel Lindbergh is alerted, Anne enters the nursery. Meanwhile, Colonel Lindbergh runs past Betty, upstairs and into the nursery. He felt all over the crib, looked around the room and then entered his bedroom.

Betty Gow (Statement 3/10/32)
Colonel Lindbergh is sitting at his desk. Betty looks at her watch and exclaims: “It is nearly 10 o’clock, I have got to go to the baby!” She enters the bathroom and lights the light and puts the heater on. She does not enter the nursery yet. First, she goes to find Anne to ask if she would like to see the baby. Elsie meets her in the hallway and tells her that Anne is preparing for a bath. Betty says, “All right, I won’t disturb her. If she wants to see the baby she can go through the connecting door.”

Betty returns to the nursery, opens the door, crosses the room and closes the French window. She plugs in the electric heater and crosses back to the crib. She feels all over the crib for the baby. [Finding the baby not there], Betty walks into Anne’s room through the bathroom door and asks if she has picked up the baby. She then asks Anne if she knows where Colonel Lindbergh is, but she gets no answer – only a ‘bewildered look.’ Betty then runs to find Colonel Lindbergh. Betty says to Colonel Lindbergh, “Colonel Lindbergh, have you got the baby? Please don’t fool me!” Colonel Lindbergh runs past Betty and goes into the nursery and then into the bedroom and gets his rifle. He re-enters the nursery with Betty where he finds Anne and says, “Anne, they have stolen our baby.”

Lindbergh tells Betty to get Olly. Colonel Lindbergh, Anne, Betty, Elsie and Olly search the house for the baby. When he is not found, Lindbergh then tells Olly to call the police.

Betty Gow (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty looks at her watch and says: “I must go to the baby.” Betty enters the nursery, opens the door, crosses the room and closes the French window. She plugs in the electric heater and crosses back to the crib. She feels all over the crib for the baby. Betty goes into the hallway and sees Anne there. She asks if she has the baby. When told no, Betty says, “Maybe Colonel Lindbergh has him” and asks Anne where the Colonel is. Anne replies, “Downstairs in the library.” Betty runs downstairs to Colonel Lindbergh and asks “…if he knew where the baby was.”

Colonel Lindbergh runs past Betty and goes into the nursery and then into the bedroom and gets his rifle. He re-enters the nursery where he finds Anne and says, “Anne, they have stolen our baby.” Lindbergh then tells Betty to get Olly.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Betty looked at her watch and said: “Oh, it’s 10 o’clock, I have got to go to the baby.”

Anne rings for Elsie who goes to Anne’s bedroom and is asked to go get a ‘hot lemon’. Anne also informs her that she intends to take a bath. Elsie sees Betty as Elsie comes out of Anne’s bedroom and is asked, “Is Mrs. Lindbergh there?” Elsie tells her no, that she is taking a bath. Betty says, “I wonder if she wants to see the baby?” Elsie replies, “I guess if she does she will go through the connecting door.” Betty then returned to the nursery and Elsie went down to the kitchen.

Betty comes downstairs into the kitchen very excited and deathly pale. She grabbed Olly by the shoulder and said, “Whateley, quick, go to Colonel Lindbergh. The baby is gone!” He ran upstairs and Elsie says to Betty, “What is the matter, pull yourself together.” Elsie then runs upstairs leaving Betty in the kitchen.[15]

Colonel Lindbergh, Anne, Betty, Elsie and Olly search the house for the baby. When he is not found, Lindbergh then tells Olly to call the police.[16]

Elsie Whateley (Testimony 1/4/35)
Betty looked at her watch and said, “It’s 10 o’clock, I must go to the baby”

Elsie goes to Mrs. Lindbergh. As she comes out of Anne’s room, she sees Betty who says, “I wonder if she wants to see the baby?” to which Elsie replies, “Well, if she wants to, she is going through the other way, because she had gone through that door.”

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Anne rings for Elsie who goes to Anne’s bedroom and is asked to go get a ‘hot lemon’. Anne also informs her that she intends to take a bath.

Betty comes into Anne’s room asking if Colonel Lindbergh has the baby. Anne tells Betty that she does not know where Colonel Lindbergh is.

Anne runs into the nursery and finds the French window closed, the heater turned on and the lights turned on. She then runs back into the hall to find Colonel Lindbergh.

Anne returned to her bedroom to dress, followed by Elsie. She threw open a window “…and looked out wildly; I thought I heard a cry, but it was very windy.”

Anne Lindbergh (Statement 3/13/32)
Anne rings for Elsie who goes to Anne’s bedroom and is asked to go get a ‘hot lemon’. Anne also informs her that she intends to take a bath. Betty comes into Anne’s room asking if Colonel Lindbergh has the baby. Anne tells Betty that she does not know where Colonel Lindbergh is but that it is quite likely [that he has the baby]. Betty then runs to find Colonel Lindbergh.

Anne runs into the nursery and finds the French window closed, the heater turned on and the lights turned on. She returns to her bedroom where she meets Colonel Lindbergh.

Anne returned to the nursery again, looking through the bedclothes and closets. She then rushed back to her bedroom, followed by Elsie. Anne throws open a window and leans far out. “I heard what sounded like a cry over to the right and in front of me in the general direction of the woodpile. Before I could speak to Elsie she said quickly, ‘That was a cat, Mrs. Lindbergh.”[17] Anne then dressed and began searching the house with the others.

Anne Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Anne rings for Elsie who goes to Anne’s bedroom and is asked to go get a ‘hot lemon’. Anne also informs her that she intends to take a bath.

Betty comes in to Anne’s bedroom, entering through the hall door and asks if Colonel Lindbergh has the baby. Anne sends her downstairs while Anne goes into the nursery and looks hastily at the bed. She then re-enters her bedroom where she met Colonel Lindbergh and Betty Gow.

Charles Lindbergh (Statement 3/11/32)
Betty says to Colonel Lindbergh, “Colonel Lindbergh, have you got the baby? Please don’t fool me…you must have the baby, he is gone!”

Lindbergh tells Betty to get Olly. Olly is told by Lindbergh to call the sheriff immediately while Lindbergh waited upstairs. Colonel Lindbergh then called Colonel Breckenridge in New York and the State Police in Trenton. Lindbergh then issued orders not to enter the nursery nor to walk around outside until the police arrived.

Charles Lindbergh (Testimony 1/3/35)
Betty calls to Colonel Lindbergh in a rather excited voice asking if he had the baby. Lindbergh ran into the nursery and found the crib clothing still standing stiffly; the clothing had not collapsed and it was still attached by pins. He sees a note on the windowsill.[18]

Olly is told to call the sheriff immediately while Lindbergh waited upstairs. Colonel Lindbergh then called Colonel Breckenridge in New York and the State Police in Trenton.

Colonel Lindbergh goes outside after the police and Colonel Breckenridge are called and walks 100 yards down the driveway.

10:10 PM
Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Betty comes rushing into the room and tells Olly that Colonel Lindbergh wants him. Lindbergh tells Olly to hurry and call the police in Hopewell.

10:15 PM
Charles Williamson (Statement 3/9/32)
Olly calls Hopewell police deputy Charles Williamson.

Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Olly returns back upstairs after calling the police and Colonel Lindbergh tells him to search the house. He then joins the Colonel outside searching the grounds for 10 – 15 minutes.

Major Lanphier (Statement 3/19/32)
Anne prepares her bath. Betty tells her that she thinks Colonel Lindbergh has taken the baby and hidden him again. Anne is annoyed, goes to the top of the stairs and calls to Colonel Lindbergh, asking why he had taken the baby. Apparently not hearing her, Lindbergh comes out of the room where he was sitting and asks Anne what she had said. She repeats it and he then tells Anne not to move and he runs up to the nursery.

10:30 PM
Arthur Springer (Statement 4/12/32)
Arthur Springer is home and goes to bed.

Harry Wolfe (Statement 3/16/32)
Charles Williamson calls Harry Wolfe and tells him of the kidnapping. He rushes to the Lindbergh estate where he is met by Olly at the end of Lindbergh’s driveway.

Elsie Whateley (Statement 3/10/32)
Elsie finds Anne in the nursery and tells her to get dressed. “She seemed to be in a sort of daze. She said, ‘All right, get the clothes and I will dress in here.’ Then she said, ‘I will dress in my room, Elsie’ and she and I went through the bathroom and into her room where she got dressed.”[19]

While helping Anne dress, Anne says, “’I think I hear a noise’ and she opened her bedroom window wide and she said, ‘I guess it must have been a cat.’ We looked out and couldn’t see anything.”[20]

Charles Williamson Statement (3/9/32)
Hopewell Police (Charles Williamson and Chief Wolfe) arrive at Highfields. Lindbergh meets them at the front door accompanied by Mrs. Lindbergh. Lindbergh tells Williamson and Wolfe that he heard a noise but that it didn’t impress him due to the windy night. Lindbergh shows the nursery to Williamson and Wolfe. Williamson and Wolfe go back downstairs and out the front door into the yard. They examine the ground under the nursery window. They see holes allegedly left by the ladder and footprints. They see a 3-sectioned ladder about 75 feet away from the house. One section of the ladder appeared broken. One dowel was lying on the ground near one section of the ladder which was about 8 to 10 feet further away from the other two sections. Near the farthest ladder section and dowel was a wood chisel.

10:45 PM
Olly Whateley (Statement 3/3/32)
Hopewell police arrive at Highfields.

10:46 PM
Arthur Springer (Statement 4/12/32)
New Jersey State Police issue teletype alarm regarding the kidnapping.

N. J. State Police (Station Record 3/1/32)
New Jersey State Police issue teletype alarm regarding the kidnapping.

11:00 PM
N.J. State Police (Station Record 3/1/32)
First newspaper calls State Police headquarters concerning the kidnapping report.

Violet Sharp (Statement 3/10/32)
Violet Sharp returns to Next Day Hill and Ernie walks her from the car to the house.

Violet Sharp (Statement 5/24/32)
Violet Sharp returns to Next Day Hill and Ernie walks her from the car to the house.

Marguerite Junge (Statement 3/7/32)
Marguerite Junge returns to Next Day Hill.

Johannes Junge (Statement 3/9/32)
Marguerite Junge returns to Next Day Hill.

Johannes Junge (Statement 4/14/32)
Marguerite Junge returns to Next Day Hill. Marguerite and Johannes Junge and Red Johnson see “a small Ford car of an old type” parked between the house and the garage and a man and a woman walking to the house. The man returns to the car alone.[21]

11:15 PM
Violet Sharp (Statement 3/10/32)
Violet teases Marguerite about being out late.

Arthur Springer (Statement 4/12/32)
Standard News Bureau (NYC) calls Arthur Springer at home and wakes him up, and tells him about the kidnapping.

11:30 PM
Charles Williamson (Statement 3/9/32)
Trooper Wolf arrives at Highfields and questions the family.

11:45 PM
Charles Williamson (Statement 3/9/32)
Trooper Kane arrives and joins Trooper Wolf.

March 2, 1932

Midnight
Henry Ellerson (Statement 4/12/32)
Henry Ellerson calls Next Day Hill after hearing of the kidnapping on the radio.

3:00 AM
Harry Wolfe (Statement 3/16/32)
Chief Wolfe drives an unidentified State Trooper into Hopewell to meet with Mr. Hulfish, foreman of Matthews Construction Company that built Highfields.

4:00 AM
Charles Williamson (Statement 3/9/32)
Williamson and Wolfe leave Highfields.

Harry Wolfe (Statement 3/16/32)
Williamson and Wolfe leave Highfields.

NOTES
[1] Time is approximate. It is between 9:00 and 10:00 AM.
[2] Septimus banks received the phone call from Hopewell requesting Betty, however he does not state at what time this call came in.
[3] This obvious contradiction to the previous comment that no stops were made appears in the same March 3, 1932 statement by Betty Gow. The first statement about no stops is in her narrative and the statement about the drugstore appears during follow-up questioning.
[4] The exact timing of Anne throwing pebbles is not given in Betty’s testimony; however it is stated that it is while Elsie is in the nursery and also that Elise is still in the nursery when Anne returns at 4:00. It should be noted, too, that there is no mention of the pebble incident in any of the statements of Anne, Betty or Elsie taken in 1932. The story is not told until the trial in 1935.
[5] It is unclear at what time this occurred. In Anne’s testimony, it reads as if she went for the walk at 1:30. It should be noted, too, that there is no mention of the pebble incident in any of the statements of Anne, Betty or Elsie taken in 1932. The story is not told until the trial in 1935.
[6] The statement reads as if the baby was having tea. However, Betty Gow’s March 10th statement says that she took the baby down into the living room where Anne was having her tea. It would also make more sense if Anne and Elsie left the room much earlier than Betty and the baby, if she was already having her tea by the time Betty gets into the living room with the baby. [7] This is stated as “shortly after 6:00” in Betty Gow’s March 10th, 1932 statement.
[8] Based upon the time span covered in this statement and the statement of Elsie Whateley, the phone call probably came in right around 7:00 PM.
[9] It is interesting to note that in all accounts, the baby already had Vics rubbed on his chest and was completely dressed and ready for bed when it was then decided to stitch a flannel shirt to replace the flannel “bandage” that was already on him covering the Vics.
[10] This is the French window.
[11] The statement of Katherine Minners has these events happening at 7:45 PMand 7:50 PM.
[12] She later tells Elsie why Henry Johnson called, according to this statement. See Elsie Whateley’s statement of 3/10/32.
[13] The exact time is not specified in the March 13th statement.
[14] This may have been 15 minutes later, at 10:15 PM; it is unclear from the statements.
[15] The time that this occurred is not given in Elsie’s statement.
[16] Elsie thinks the timing of this search was around 10:30.
[17] cf. Elsie’s statement, 10:30 pm.
[18] Lindbergh states, “I am not at the moment certain whether I saw that note at [that] time or the next time I entered the room…but either the first or second time; I came back very shortly…not over 5 minutes.” (Charles Lindbergh, Testimony, January 3, 1932.)
[19] Elsie states that she is unsure of the time she helped Mrs. Lindbergh dress. “As far as I recall I think it was in the neighborhood of 10:30…”
[20] Note that here Elsie states it was Mrs. Lindbergh declaring the sound was a cat, yet in Mrs. Lindbergh’s statement she claims Elsie told her it was a cat.
[21] This is assumed to be Violet Sharp and Ernie Miller.

Hutchinson's Manor

2008-01-01T14:35:00.000-05:00

The history of the New Jersey State Police extends back 87 years to its establishment in 1921. The history of the property in Ewing Township where Division Headquarters is currently located, however, reaches back over three hundred years to the late seventeenth century when the colony of West Jersey was established and the land was still “owned” by its original inhabitants, the Lenni Lenape.

English Quakers who were men of means founded the colony of West Jersey. “They were either plain farmers (‘yeoman’) or craftsmen and tradesmen rather than gentry.” Thomas Hutchinson, the first landowner in Ewing Township, was one such Quaker. Born in 1640, he lived in the village of Beverley on the Hull River in Yorkshire, England. He married Dorothy Storr, daughter of Marmaduke Storr of Owstwicks, on March 29, 1668. [1]

Thomas bought quite a bit of land in the colony of West Jersey on July 29, 1687 his land in what is now Ewing Township was surveyed by Symon Charles for the first time: “Surveyed then for Thomas Hutchinson a tract of land lying upon ye River Delaware above the ffalls, BEGINNING at black oak marked by said river for corner...”[2]

Thomas Hutchinson’s land in the Ewing area was often referred to in early records as “Hutchinson’s Manor.” Hutchinson’s Manor consisted of 2500 acres and covered 30% of modern Ewing Township.[3] Roughly, the property’s first corner was located at the point where modern day Parkside Avenue intersects with the Delaware River. From there, the sideline continued up Parkside Avenue “84 chains” (1.05 miles) to the intersection with Parkway Avenue. The rear line continued from this second corner in a northwesterly direction for “257 chains” (3.21 miles). However, at Hillcrest Avenue, it veered south a little and crossed over at the bend at Ranchwood Drive. It continued northwest, crossing Lower Ferry Road near the railroad tracks, through the West Trenton Train Station to just northeast of Howell & Summit Avenues in West Trenton. From here, it crossed West Upper Ferry Road and Bear Tavern Road and followed along Bear Tavern to Mountain View Road. Here it turned and followed Mountain View to the river, known as “John Hutchinson’s Old Corner.”[4]

Eight months after Hutchinson’s Manor was surveyed, the most important land transaction in Ewing Township’s history occurred. On March 30, 1688 the Adlord Bowd Indian Purchase took place when a land purchase that included all of modern day Ewing Township – including but not mentioning Hutchinson’s Manor – was made for the benefit of West Jersey Governor Daniel Coxe.[5]

Daniel Coxe, who never came to America, was declared Governor of West Jersey by the Burlington Court in February 1688. Adlord Bowd was his agent in West Jersey. Bowd was dispatched to the colony where he was to “locate and take up the lands to which Coxe was entitled.” Thomas Hutchinson’s land was located entirely within the Coxe tract as is all of modern Ewing Township.[6]

The Adlord Bowd Indian Purchase lists the names of the original Lenni Lenape Indian landowners of the property as: Hoham, Taptaopamm, Mecoppe, Weheending, Lummaseecon, Pleeze, Mehekizhue, Caponoconickon, Nahusing, Mehkeekan and Shawonna.[7]

Bowd paid for the land with “500 fathoms of Wampum, Tenne stript Dutch Duffelds, Tenne broad strawdwater matchcotes, Sixty matchcotes, Thirty Gunns, Twenty Ketles, Twenty shirts, fforty pairs of stockings, Eighty Hatshotts, Two Halfe Anchors of Powder, One hundred Knives, One hundred and twenty barres of leade, Sixty pounds of Shott, One Anchor of Rumme, Two Barrells of Beere, Two pounds of Read Lead, Three hundred pipes, Three hundred needles and Three Anchors of Tobacco.”[8]

A year after the purchase of land from the Indians, Thomas Hutchinson died around November 1689. Dying intestate, the inventory of his estate was made by Thomas Lambert, Joshua Wright, William Emley and John Lambert. His son and heir was John Hutchinson.[9]

April 10, 1696 marked the beginning of the break-up of Thomas Hutchinson’s original 2500-acre manor tract. It was on this date that 600 acres were conveyed to John Bryerley. The property began at the “mouth of the Shoomack Branch [the small creek near Scenic Drive on the south side of the Scudder Plantation] and extended down the river 86 chains [1.07 miles] near to present day West Upper Ferry Road, then back “into the woods” 80 chains.” [1 mile] [10]

Later, John Hutchinson conveyed to Thomas Hough 200 acres “adjoining Bryerley’s land on the northwest and extending from Shoomack Creek to the end line of Hutchinson’s Manor, at what is now Mountain View Road.” On November 14, 1699 Brearley re-conveyed to John Hutchinson 650 acres “lately appendant to ye said Mannor.” The land included much of the original 600 acres as well as additional lands to the south in the area of Wilburtha Road. The next day, November15th, Hutchinson deeded his 650 acres to John Watson and Richard Eayre. On March 21, 1699/1700, John Watson conveyed his ownership of that land to Richard Eayre. This made Richard Eayre of Burlington the non-resident owner of 810 acres along the Delaware in Ewing extending from the Southern boundary of Thomas Hough’s land (later the Scudder plantation) just below present day Bernard Drive to Andrew Heath’s plantation, at what is now Lower Ferry Road. [11]

The last recorded 17^th Century transaction in Ewing Township was the deed from John Hutchinson to Andrew Heath on February 24, 1699/1700 for 400 acres out of Hutchinson’s manor. Heath’s tract adjoined Richard Eayre on the Delaware lying along and to the east of the present Reading Railroad tracks. From this site, Andrew Heath operated his ferry across the Delaware River.[12]

Although the early land purchases in the Ewing Area were in the late 17^th century, European colonists did not inhabit the area until the beginning of the 18^th century. The landowners, such as Thomas Hutchinson, usually lived in Burlington, Hopewell or other surrounding areas. That said it is, however, believed that Hutchinson did eventually settle on his estate thereby becoming the first settler in Ewing Township.[13]

A large number of the 18^th century settlers came to the Ewing Township area from Newtown, Long Island. Among those early settlers was Nathaniel Moore and his wife Joanna Prudden, the daughter of John Prudden. They moved to the Ewing Township area from Newtown, Long Island in 1708 when he bought “500 acres of land about 2 miles from Pennington on which he lived until his death on September 6, 1759 at the age of 72.”[14]

Nathaniel and Joanna’s son, Captain John Moore, married the daughter of Theophilus Phillips. He died on November 3, 1768. His son, John Moore, married Sarah Carpenter, the daughter of Ewing resident Henry Carpenter. John died in 1815, leaving his property in what is now West Trenton, to his children: John C., Elizabeth, Sarah and Charles.[15]

It was from this tract that in the mid 19^th century the State of New Jersey purchased farmland for use by the State Psychiatric Hospital that had recently been established just a few miles away. In 1922, a portion of this property was transferred to the Department of State Police. It was here, in the Wilburtha Section of West Trenton in Ewing Township that the State Police established their new training school for Troopers; the academy in Sea Girt where the first State Police Class had trained in 1921 was now used for Municipal Police training.

The State Police not only obtained land but also the existing farm buildings for use by the training school. “Formerly a farm, the new center required work to convert it to its new purpose, and the recruits found themselves performing a variety of chores. Roofs needed repair, gravel was spread in the stables and roadways, and all hands found themselves wielding paintbrushes.”[16]

Today, the land continues to be used by the State Police. In 1947 the new State Constitution downgraded the Department of State Police to a Division under the Department of Law and Public Safety. State Police Headquarters was then moved from its original location, across the street from the State Capital Building on West State Street, to its current location. Eventually, the Training School was transferred back to Sea Girt, where it remains to this day.

The State Police “skyline” in Wilburtha has changed drastically since 1922, even more so since the Lenape roamed there. While seven of the buildings erected in the 1920s are still utilized by State Police administrative offices, a dozen or so modern buildings now surround them. The most recent addition came in January 2007 when the Regional Operations Intelligence Center opened. The ROIC (pronounced “rock”) serves as the nerve center of New Jersey’s homeland security, crime fighting and emergency response efforts.

The New Jersey State Police was founded in 1921 as a rural police force, established to protect the farmers who worked the land. And it is through its own ties to the land it now occupies that the heritage and history of the New Jersey State Police reaches beyond the 20^th Century and all the way back to era of Hutchinson’s Manor and the Lenni Lenape Indians over 320 years ago.

Endnotes

1 Stroupe, Ethel. “Origins of the Jersey Settlement of Rowan County, North Carolina.” 1996. http://www.richardhutchinson.com/ThomasHutchinson.htm>

2 ibid.

3 Felcone, Joseph J. “Ewing Township Mercer County, New Jersey: A History to the Year 1700”. Princeton, NJ: 1985. Pg. 19.

4 ibid. pg. 18-19.

5 ibid. Pg. 20.

6 ibid. Pg. 19-20. See also “The Coxe Affair” for a discussion about this controversial land purchase.

7 ibid. Pg. 21.

8 ibid. Pg. 20-21.

9 Stoupe.

10 ibid. Pg. 30-31.

11 ibid. Pg. 31.

12 ibid. Pg. 34.

13 It should be noted that the area was not known at this time as Ewing Township. Originally the area was part of Hopewell Township, Burlington County. In 1713, Hopewell Townshop was removed from Burlington County and became part of the newly established Hunterdon County. From 1719, when the City of Trenton was founded, until 1834 the area was named Trenton Township. On February 22, 1834 the named was changed to Ewing Township in honor of Charles Ewing, the late Chief Justice of the New Jersey Supreme Court. It became part of Mercer County after its establishment in 1838.

14 Stoupe.

15 “Early Families of Ewing Township.” NJ State Archives. Pg. 167.

16 Coakley, Leo J. Jersey Troopers. Rutgers University Press, New Brunswick: 1971. Page 54.

The State Police in 1932

2007-12-01T00:01:00.000-05:00

Over the years, there has been much criticism of the New Jersey State Police and their abilities during the Lindbergh Case. While some criticism is warranted, much of it comes from looking at the investigation with 21st Century eyes. This is unfair, because the State Police of today is a very different organization from what it was in 1932.

The bulk of Lindbergh Case investigation lasted from March 1, 1932 through to the trial of Bruno Richard Hauptmann in January 1935. The 11th Annual Report provides statistical data about the State Police from July 1, 1931 to June 30, 1932. According to the 1932 Annual Report, this was the structure of the State Police at that time:

Executive and Administration Staff

Col. H. Norman Schwarzkopf – Superintendent
Major Charles Schoeffel – Deputy
Superintendent
Arden M. Sperling – Sergeant Major

Detective Bureau

Henry F. Wooge – Captain
Arthur T. Keaten – Lieutenant

License Bureau

Walter J. Coughlin – Lieutenant

Identification Bureau

Russell A. Snook – Lieutenant

Teletype Bureau

John E. Murnane (Trenton) – Lieutenant
Joseph Hoch (Newark) – Lieutenant

Supply Bureau

Gaston A. Conklin – Supply Sergeant

Statistical Bureau

John A. Mitchell – Sergeant

Automobile Bureau

John A. Mitchell – Sergeant

Safety Education Bureau

John V. Conover – Sergeant

Captains

William J. Carter – Troop “A” (Hammonton)
John J. Lamb – Troop “C”
(Wilburtha)
William O. Nicol – Troop “B” (Morristown)

Specialist Staff

Dr. D. Leo Haggerty (Trenton) – Physician
Benjamin J. Spits (Paterson) –
Counsel
Rev. Gill Robb Wilson (Trenton) – Chaplain
Fr. Joseph P. Connor
(West Orange) – Chaplain

Total number of Enlisted: 279

The current structure of the State Police has grown radically over the years. While there is still just one Colonel serving as Superintendent, there are now five Lieutenant Colonels that include a Chief of Staff and four Deputy Superintendents, fourteen majors, forty-six captains, and one hundred and ninety-two lieutenants. There organization is divided into four “branches” that are further subdivided into countless sections, bureaus and units. The State is divided into five “Troops” today that currently administer about 25 road stations.

In the 1930s, the State Police were faced with a three-fold problem, “namely the rural problem, the crime problem and the traffic problem.”

The Rural Problem
In the 1930s, New Jersey was still legitimately known as “The Garden State”. New Jersey had over seven thousand square miles that was entirely or to the greater extent dependent upon the State Police for protection. Many people were living on farms that were too far from the cities for the sheriffs and city police to protect. This is what led to the Grange pressing for the formation of the State Police eleven years earlier.

Also, “the productive activities of many of our agriculturists and horticulturists [extended] over such an expansive territory that it [was] impossible for them to protect their interests on their own. They were subjected to petty and wholesale thievery from malefactors ranging from passing automobiles to organized gangs.”

The State Police protected the farmers against “fruit thieves, flower and blossom thieves, chicken thieves, gangs of produce thieves, etc.”

The Crime Problem
A major part of the crime problem facing New Jersey at the time was due to the close proximity to New York City and Philadelphia. Both of these cities “...had its underworld and New Jersey [was] situated between the two.” Criminals would cross into New Jersey to commit “all manner of crimes” and then just as easily and quickly leave the State again.

There was also a general “crime wave” at that time, most likely due to the advent of the Great Depression, as well as the “ordinary criminal activities which always exist in more or less thickly populated territories.” The variety of crimes handled by the State Police at that time covered 100 different classifications. One of the classifications was kidnapping, of which there were 7 during the fiscal year.

The Traffic Problem
Foreign traffic was a major issue in New Jersey in the 1930s as much as it is today. The Lincoln Highway brought most of this traffic into the State. The Lincoln Highway was the first transcontinental highway in the United States. It linked Boston, New York, Philadelphia and Washington, DC. This section of the Lincoln Highway is now known as Route 1.

The United States Department Commerce reported the portion of the Lincoln Highway between Philadelphia and New York as being “the most traveled highway in the country”. The opening of resorts was another cause of the traffic problem in New Jersey.

Oceanfront, bay front, river, lake, mountain and pine resorts brought “hosts of out-of-state visitors.” The opening of the new interstate bridges increased the State’s traffic problem as well.

In 1932, New Jersey had 1,535 miles of State Highways, 4,070 miles of County Highways and 11,844 miles of Township Highways – all outside city limits. These had to be patrolled by the State Police.

As stated before, the New Jersey State Police had more than 7,000 square miles of territory to cover and they averaged 279 “assigned and attached men to carry on this work. From the 279 men, personnel were assigned for the Executive Staff, the Administrative Staff, the Detective Bureau, the License Bureau, the Automobile Bureau, the Supply Bureau, the Statistical Bureau, the Safety Education Bureau, the Identification Bureau, the Teletype Bureau, the Recruit Training Staff and the Troop Executive and Administrative Staffs.”

It was reported in the Annual Report that the “actual functioning of the State Police [was] mainly carried out by the Trooper on the road. It became necessary to spread them out in small groups all over the state, far from individual official surveillance. “Liaison, guidance and personal supervision [was] extremely difficult.” Colonel Schwarzkopf had to rely on morale to hold the organization together, as well as honor, integrity and courage to encourage good conduct and to ensure that the Troopers did their job. And, according to the statistics, they did.

During Fiscal Year 1932 the State Police made 27,450 arrests resulting in 23,535 convictions with 1,874 cases pending trial. 131,774 warnings were issued during that time as well.

It must be remembered that the State Police was not (and is not) just an enforcement agency, but also a service agency. The Troopers rendered roadside assistance, for example, in 11,682 cases. They fought 73 forest fires, saving $21,940 worth of property from destruction. During this time 480 stolen cars ($207,302 value) were recovered and returned to their rightful owners. $60,116.36 worth of other stolen property was also recovered and returned. In addition, 10,291 co-operative days of service were rendered to other enforcement agencies in the State and 89 municipal police officers graduated from the New Jersey Police Academy run by the State Police at Sea Girt.

The Safety Patrol, which had been started in rural schools by the State Police in 1929, now had 177 patrols, with more requested.

The State Bureau of Identification, created in 1930, now held approximately 30,000 valuable records. 48,000 sets of fingerprints were received from 232 agencies throughout the State. 10,299 of them were identified as belonging to criminals. 43 wanted persons were identified and apprehended by fingerprints. 16,228 photographs were received and filed as well. 440 fingerprints were checked against latent fingerprint photographs taken at the scenes of crime.

The Bureau received 2,552 reports of missing persons and 2,252 reports of wanted persons were received.

All fingerprints received by the State Police had to be classified and then indexed by name and alias. They were filed according to fingerprint classification.

This basic analysis of the work performed by the New Jersey State Police during Fiscal Year 1932 is very similar to what they faced in 1933 and 1934. However, there were fewer Troopers in 1933 and 1934 due to layoffs caused by the Great Depression. In 1933 enlistment dropped 13% to 240 Troopers and that number increased by only one, to 241, in 1934. Today there are over 2,900 enlisted members of the State Police -- a 1146% increase -- with over 1,400 civilian support staff.

At least thirteen Troopers -- 5% of the entire State Police enlistment -- were assigned to the Lindbergh Case. To do that today would require over 380 Troopers to be assigned to the detail. That is more than the entire compliment of the Department of State Police in 1932.

It was against this background that the New Jersey State Police had to investigate their first major case – the Lindbergh Kidnapping – with all the world watching.

Schwarzkopf vs. Hoffman

2007-11-01T13:49:00.000-04:00

On February 13, 1935 Bruno Richard Hauptmann was found guilty of the kidnapping and murder of Charles A. Lindbergh, Jr. New Jersey Governor Harold G. Hoffmann did not accept that Hauptmann was the sole perpetrator of the “Crime of the Century” and ordered the New Jersey State Police to re-open their investigation. Convinced that the State Police were trying to frame Hauptmann, the Governor also conducted his own investigation, generating over 20,000 pages of documents. Hoffmann was unsuccessful in his attempt to help Hauptmann and on April 3, 1936 he was executed at the Trenton State Prison.

On June 30, 1936, Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf’s third five-year term as Superintendent of the New Jersey State Police came to an end. He was first appointed in 1921 by Governor Edward I. Edwards to establish the New Jersey State Police and to serve as its first superintendent. He served under five governors of both political parties during his tenure.

Governor Hoffmann decided not to re-appoint Schwarkzopf as Superintendent. Instead, he appointed his friend and political ally, Colonel Mark O. Kimberling, as the second State Police Superintendent. Kimberling originally held the title of Deputy Superintendent under Schwarzkopf from 1921 until he resigned on June 30, 1929. He later became the Principal Keeper of the Trenton State Prison and was in charge of Richard Hauptmann’s execution in April 1936. He took over as superintendent on June 17, 1936.

The publicity of Hoffman’s involvement in the Lindbergh Case ruined his political career. He was not re-elected and never went on to national office. He served in World War II in the Army Transport Command and after the war was appointed to mid-level positions in state government.

Eighteen years after being dismissed from office, Colonel Schwarzkopf (by now a Brigadier General in the United States Army) returned to state service as an administrative assistant to the Attorney General. In March 1954, he was directed to lead an investigation into the affairs of the Division of Employment Security whose director had been suspended on charges of official misconduct. The director in question was former Governor Harold G. Hoffmann. He was suspended on March 18, 1954 and State Troopers were sent to his offices to secure files for Federal and State investigators.

When Schwarzkopf was directed to investigate former Governor Hoffman, he knew full well that there would be questioning of his objectivity and accusations of vengeance. It never came to that. On June 4th, the former governor was found dead in his New York City hotel room, the apparent victim of a heart attack. He left behind a letter to his daughter in which he admitted to embezzling $300,000 from the South Amboy Trust Company where he was an officer during the 1920s. He claimed that he had used the money to fund his Congressional campaigns. Schwarzkopf’s investigation further revealed evidence of payroll padding, improper use of state employees and equipment and payment for purchases that were never delivered.

Schwarzkopf versus Hoffman. Yet another example of the many tragic ironies of the Lindbergh Kidnapping Case.

The Lindbergh Case: The State Police vs The Press

2007-10-01T00:01:00.000-04:00

When the “Crime of the Century” occurred in the evening of March 1, 1932, it was, of course, immediately reported to the local and state police. At 10:46 PM, a teletype was sent from Department Headquarters in Trenton to all police stations throughout New Jersey and the neighboring states announcing the kidnapping and providing a description of the child.

Always looking for a “scoop”, the Press monitored the police teletypes and within fourteen minutes, at 11:00 pm the Philadelphia Ledger became the first newspaper to call the State Police about the kidnapping. At virtually the same instant, the Newark News called Department Headquarters. Two minutes later the State Gazette phoned. Then, the Newark Ledger. And so it went, every two minutes a newspaper was phoning the State Police for information. By the end of that hour twenty newspapers had phoned Headquarters.

According to State Police Superintendent Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf, the Director of the Investigation, “several hundred newspaper reporters arrived at the Lindbergh residence during the night [and] were entertained by Colonel Lindbergh.” They “...did not leave the place until specifically requested to do so through their editors by Colonel Lindberg [at] about 4:00 pm Wednesday, March 2nd.”I The State Police quickly established a sub-station in the garage of Lindbergh’s estate where they installed filing cabinets and teletype machines. Lieutenant Walter J. Coughlin was appointed as Publicity Officer and was on duty at the Publicity Room at the State House in Trenton.

Lt. Coughlin will maintain contact with Major Schoeffel for the purpose of giving press releases at 8am, 12 noon, 4 pm and 8 pm. Any special or emergency press release will be forwarded to Lt. Coughlin without delay for immediate release...Lt. Caughlin will handle the release of all statements to the press and he is the only one authorized to give out any statements to the press.ii

Colonel Schwarzkopf held a press conference where he laid out his vision of the relationship of the relationship between the State Police and the Press:

This conference was asked for the purpose of the establishment of press relationship between the police and the newspaper correspondents. I said that I would hold such a conference and I am here for that purpose and nothing else…No publicity is given out by the police authorities in charge of this case, no one will get any scoop and you will all get the same break. We are trying to do this to be fair to all the correspondents.

The main purpose of all of our activities is the recovery of the Lindbergh baby alive and as quickly as possible…We are there as a police authority and are working as a police authority. This, of course, involves a great volume of work and it is a definite interference with my work if I have to come in to Trenton for a conference with the press…I am too busy to come in to Trenton or to give any personal conferences…We will give out no opinions and we will not make any predictions. Things that we give to the press are actual facts as we have found them…We will co-operate to every extent with the press. We want to do that [as] we realize the fine work the press is doing in carrying out the news of this case and we want to co-operate with you…If you will not mis-quote or misconstrue any of the things that are said and also in the handling of rumors if you will make every effort to verify them before the publication goes out. The State Police is not looking for publicity…of [any] kind…We hope you appreciate our earnest efforts to co-operate with you.iii

Beginning on March 7th, representatives from the Press submitted a series of twenty-two questions regarding various aspects of the investigation and asking for confirmations of rumors. The questions were submitted at various times throughout the day and were answered during the scheduled press releases. Twenty-one Press Questions and Answers were exchanged over a five-day period.

Because the questions were not screened prior to submission, the State Police began to become overwhelmed by the demands of the Press. Finally at 2:03 am on March 11th, the Press Submitted what became the “last straw” for Colonel Schwarzkopf’s patience. “Questions From Publicity Room State House Series No. 21” consisted of fourteen questions, each a paragraph long and requiring very detailed answers and explanations. They went on to insist that “…if the answer to any of the above is ‘no answer’ or ‘not to our knowledge,’ kindly explain why…such an answer was made.”

Colonel Schwarzkopf took it upon himself to reply to this latest series of demanding questions from the Press. He handwrote a four-paragraph reply that was transmitted to Lt. Coughlin at 3:43 am:

The questionnaire that has just been forwarded to me is so involved and commentary that it would require several hours and considerable discussion to competently answer it. The answering of these questionnaires has taken a great deal of time – the time that really belongs to the advancement of the[ir] work[.] The police authorities have the work on the case as their uppermost responsibility and this must receive first and foremost consideration. We regret the attempt that has been made to dictate to the police and the disregard that is shown to our earnest effort to cooperate with the press. The time required to answer these questionnaires is interfering with our work and therefore we will discontinue to answer questionnaires. In place thereof two bulletins will be issued daily from Hopewell – one at eleven am and one at ten pm. In addition you have our assurance that the moment anything definite develops we will issue a bulletin immediately so that you may have prompt and authoritative information.
--Col. H. Norman Schwarzkopf

The first Press Bulletin was issued by Colonel Schwarzkopf on March 11th at 11:04 AM. The Press obviously was not the least bit happy about this new arrangement.

Just three hours after Schwarzkopf issued his proclamation and four hours before the Press Bulletin was issued, one or more reporters sent Colonel Schwarzkopf a Western Union Press Message that was hand delivered at 6:35 AM. It was signed “The Press”:

Although you have issued a dictum that the world at large, through the press, may not trouble you with any further questions regarding the Lindbergh Baby Kidnapping, we nevertheless hopefully transmit to you, with all due humility, the questions which were prepared during the four and one half hours in which you decided you would not answer the last or any further questions which questioned the efficiency of the New Jersey State Police investigation in to the disappearance of the Lindbergh Baby.

The telegram continued on with a list of ten questions, each designed to be a slap in the face of Schwarzkopf and the State Police. For example, “The Press” wrote,

1.—To clarify the confusion caused by your silence in the face of conflicting reports, will you tell us whether you or any of the investigators have information that the kidnapping was done by amateurs, or by professional gangsters or kidnapers? If the answer to this is “NO ANSWER”, will you tell us why the question is not answered?
2.—Do you think that the baby’s safety justifies abandonment of police methods and a surrender to organized gangsters?
3.—If the answer to the above is “NO ANSWER”, or something of the sort, will you tell why?

The last “question,” posted by “The Press” further demonstrated the anger and frustration felt by the reporters who were now faced with a wall of silence:

Despite the fact you have destroyed the established system of communicating with you, can you inform us in some way, at the State House, in Trenton, how we can and will or will not receive a reply to this our final communication under present arrangements?

The audacity of the criticism in the two-page telegram was shocking in 1932. So much so, that editors and publishers immediately tried to disavow any connection to it.

Leonard Norman of New York’s Standard News Association was the first to send a telegram to Colonel Schwarzkopf informing him that “…neither [the] Standard News Association nor myself subscribe to [the] criticism expressed in [the] telegram…” Six more similar telegrams arrived from the United Press, Quentin Reynolds of the International News Service, the New York Evening Journal and others all desiring “…to disassociate [themselves] with and to disapprove of the type of questionnaire submitted to the State Police…”

Bates Raney of the United Press tried to explain to Colonel Schwarzkopf that the “public interest in the Lindbergh investigation is so strong, and of such international character, that this can only be served satisfactorily by respectful press interrogation at intervals of a responsible State Police official…” He went on to state that while “…it is our wish to cooperate heartily in every way possible, at the same time we press firmly and respectfully for the right of the public to know just how the investigation is proceeding…We urge that the Colonel make some immediate arrangement for personal contact between the press and a responsible State Police official…”

Quentin Reynolds, in his telegram, went further, pointing out to Schwarzkopf that the “...entire International News Service staff at Hopewell and Trenton have been anxious to continue cooperating with the authorities even to the extent of making subordinate our real duty of disseminating news to the all important duty of getting Lindbergh’s child back safely.” He did feel, however, that “the present system of bulletin communications is not nearly as efficient as the discarded questionnaire method” and he urged Schwarzkopf to reconsider his decision.

Some of the editors seemed resigned to the fact that the bulletin system was going to remain in place however they asked for a revision in the times the bulletins were to be issued. “The issuance of bulletins at 11am and 10 pm creates [a] difficult situation for [the] New York American as our first editions [go] to press before ten o’clock. [We] would appreciate [a] bulletin at 5:30 and six o’clock to remedy this.” The long span between the two bulletins put a hardship on many papers and was seen as discriminating against some of the newspapers and press services due to their publication deadlines.

While just about all of the newspapers’ telegrams to Schwarzkopf included a formal request for him to reinstate the regular press conferences, it was only Jack Miley of the Daily News who asked outright if it was “…upon your own initiative or by the authority and approval [of] Governor Moore that you have so despotically acted to abrogate press and police contact?”

Into the Lion’s Den

That afternoon, Lieutenant Coughlin was sent from his office in Department Headquarters across the street to the Press Room at the State House to mingle among the reporters in hopes of getting some insight as to how the press was handling the new system imposed upon them. Coughlin reported back what Schwarzkopf already knew; that the reporters were very dissatisfied with the new system. Referring to the initial teletype of ten detailed questions that caused Schwarzkopf to abolish the questionnaire system, “those reporters who are responsible for the telegram…realize now that they have made a terrible mistake and are crawling around [with] their tail between their legs.”

Not too surprisingly, Coughlin learned that it was not the reporters but rather their editors that were the source of the harsh criticism directed at Colonel Schwarzkopf. This was illustrated by the Trenton Times headline, “Schwarzkopf Offended, Won’t Answer Questions.”

Coughlin struck up conversations with some of the more experienced reporters and discussed the present situation. It was a mess of their own making and they knew it. The seasoned reporters tried to distance themselves from both the early morning teletype and the now infamous telegram that chided Schwarzkopf, claiming that “it was gotten up by Paynter of the New York Journal and five or six other men.”

Finger pointing aside, everyone in the Press Room knew they had to get things back on track. They offered several suggestions for re-establishing a working relationship with the State Police. At 3:47 PM, Lieutenant Coughlin forwarded these suggestions along with his own recommendations to Colonel Schwarzkopf who took them under advisement.

In the Press Bulletin issued at 10 o’clock that evening, Schwarzkopf delineated the compromises he was willing to make:

Respecting the requests of the press and wishing to cooperate with the press 3 instead of 2 bulletins will be issued daily. The time for these bulletins in accordance with your latest request will be 10-00 A.M., 4-00 P.M and 10-00 P.M. In a further desire to cooperate with the press and at the same time satisfy the public we will be glad to receive one hour before the time of publication of bulletins suggestions as to news to be covered and questions from the press. Both of these will be considered in the preparation of the bulletin and will be covered as far as possible in the bulletin by the information it contains.

The Colonel also made it clear that the time had come to put an end to the constant requests by the Press to change the system back to the way it was:

The stated policy as to information to be given out will continue and we request your cooperation in not making suggestions contrary to the defined policy. We earnestly hope that this bulletin and response to your suggestions and questions will satisfy the Press and our statement last night was offered in the same spirit of attempting to arrive at a solution, which would meet with everyone’s approval.

Just four days later, on March 15th, a new schedule was devised for the issuance of Press Bulletins when the 10:00 PM bulletin was bushed back to 9 o’clock. A day later, the 4 o’clock bulletin was pushed back to 3 o’clock provided, of course, the Press got their questions submitted early enough.

A committee of reporters was submitting the questions from the Press. It was hoped that this would help to prevent a submission such as the one received on the 11th that caused Schwarzkopf to put aside the Questionnaire System. To help to further alleviate the tension between the Police and the Fourth Estate, the first questionnaire submitted on the evening of March 11th ended with a diplomatic note: A majority of the committee responsible for this [list] hereby express appreciation for the Press arrangement announced by the police today.

At noon on May 29, 1932 the police investigation headquarters was moved from Lindbergh’s garage in Hopewell to the State Police Training School at Wilburtha. “The permanent headquarters for this investigation are now established at the Training School and the teletype installation is being removed and set up in the investigation headquarters just established…[with] the same method of operation, including the same press policy as heretofore…”

Also starting on May 29th, the Press Bulletins were handled by Trooper Gable and Trooper McCormick. They would phone questions to Wilburtha where a clerk would usually take the call and replies would then be phoned back to them.

When developments in the case would warrant, Special Bulletins would be issued to the press above and beyond the established schedule of announcements. One such special bulletin was issued on June 10th when it was announced the Violet Sharp, a maid working at Mrs. Lindbergh’s mother’s estate in Englewood, New Jersey, had committed suicide.

The last Press Bulletin on file in the State Police archives is #260 dated June 13, 1932. Issued at 4:15 in the afternoon, it discussed Dr. John Condon, the (in)famous Jafsie who acted as the intermediary between the kidnappers and the Lindbergh family and the further investigation into Violet Sharp’s suicide.

Regardless of how the Press continued to receive their information, receive it they did. In 1934 with the arrest of Bruno Richard Hauptmann and his subsequent trial and execution, it became impossible to satisfy the Press’s insatiable appetite for a story and the expressions “media frenzy” and “Yellow Journalism” took on new meanings.

Since the rocky relationship days of the Lindbergh Case, both the Press and the New Jersey State Police have striven to maintain an amicable relationship, realizing that the Press needs accurate information for their stories and the police needs the Press to publish accurate and factually correct stories in order to help with their investigations and to protect the public at large.

Internet press releases have replaced teletypes and the press liaison officer has evolved over the past seventy-five years from a temporarily designated spokesman to a permanently staffed office of responsible and reliable spokesmen and women under the direction of a State Police Captain. Armed with cell phones and “blackberries”, the Office of Public Information continues to work closely with the Press informing them of significant events and developments while portraying a professional and positive image of the New Jersey State Police.

Notes:
i Schwarzkopf, H. Norman. Memorandum. April 7, 1932

ii Schwarzkopf, H. Norman. Organization Plan. March 9, 1932

iii Schwarkzopf, H. Norman. Text of speech given at press conference. [no date].

The Skirl of the Pipes

2007-09-01T00:00:00.000-04:00

“The Bagpipe is much used by the Irish. To its sounds, this unconquered, fierce, and warlike people march their armies, and are encouraged to feats of valor. With it they also carry their dead to the grave, making such a mournful sound, as to force the bystander to weep.”

- Vincenzo Galilei, 1581

As witnessed after the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, the Great Highland Bagpipe has become the instrument of choice to be played at the funerals of law enforcement personnel. Many police departments around the country – around the world in fact – now have their own pipe and drum bands, including the New Jersey State Police. But how did this tradition come about?

It is safe to say that all pipe bands in the beginning were modeled on the British Army pipe bands. The bands of the Highland regiments were first established around 1854. The Irish Guards, another regiment of the British Army, formed their pipe band in the early 1900s.

In Scotland, the tradition of police pipe bands began with the Strathclyde Police Pipe Band. Established in 1883, this was one of the first bands to be formed outside the ranks of the British Army. Because many of the officers of the various Scottish police departments were ex-military, it was only natural that they would bring the military’s bagpipe tradition with them.

The first police pipe band in the United States would come much later, but the seeds for it were sewn at the dawn of the 20^th century.

During the 1880s and into the early 1900s, largely due to the great potato famine, there was a massive Irish immigration to the United States. Unfortunately, the immigrants arrived to equally massive discrimination. It was common in cities such as New York, Boston and Chicago to see “NINA” signs on factories and other businesses informing that “No Irish Need Apply.” During this time, the some of the only jobs available to them were in police and fire departments.

The Irish immigrants naturally wanted to preserve their Celtic heritage and culture. Francis O’Neill, the Chicago Police Chief from 1901 to 1905 established the “Irish Music Club” which, of course, included the bagpipes, usually a solo piper or a small group of pipers. As the famous Irish fraternal organization The Emerald Society became closely tied with police departments around the country so did the bagpipes. The bagpipe used by most bands today is of Scottish origin, and it was adopted by the Emerald Societies because it is both louder and better suited to outdoor use than the Irish version.

The oldest police pipe band in North America is in British Columbia, Canada. The Vancouver Police Pipe Band has been in continual existence since 1914. It was not until 1961 that the first police pipe band in the United States made it’s official debut. On March 17^th of that year, the Pipes and Drums of the Emerald Society of the New York City Police Department made its first appearance in the city’s famous St. Patrick’s Day Parade. Since that time, police departments across the United States have formed pipe and drum bands of their own. Many of the bands wear traditional Scottish attire while others wear the simpler Irish uniform. All wear a kilt – some wear the Scottish tartans and others the single color Irish kilt.

The first State Police pipe band formed in the United States is the New Jersey State Police Pipe Band: the Pipes and Drums of the Blue and Gold. Founded in 1986 with the consent and authorization of Colonel Clinton Pagano, its function is to provide ceremonial services of the Division of State Police. In early 1990 the band was incorporated as a not-for-profit organization within the State of New Jersey.

Under the authority of Colonel Carl Williams on November 13, 1995 the ceremonial services of the band were re-authorized. The Superintendent recognized the not-for-profit organization and set procedures for the Division to request the Pipe Band to perform at official State Police functions in an “on duty” capacity when “...the Superintendent determines that the Division will benefit from the appearance/performance.”

As the bagpipes grow in popularity, the Pipes and Drums of the Blue and Gold and its members are called on to perform at over 200 events annually. They join with more than twenty other civilian and police pipe bands in New Jersey and Eastern Pennsylvania in carrying on the proud tradition and music of this ancient instrument into the 21^st Century.

Sources:

Pipe Major (Ret.) William Robertson, Royal Scots (The Royal Regiment)

Strathclyde Police Pipe Band website (http://www.strathpol-pipeband.com/)

Chicago Police Pipe Band website (http://www.pdcpd.org/about.htm)

New York Police Pipe Band website (http://www.nypdpipesanddrums.com/)

New Jersey State Police Pipes and Drums of the Blue and Gold (http://njsppipeband.org/)

Crime of Choice: The Threatened Kidnapping of Senator Dryden Kuser

2007-08-02T10:52:00.000-04:00

During the Great Depression, the crime of choice was kidnapping. In 1932, the most famous kidnapping in American history took place when the son of Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh was taken from their home in Hopewell, New Jersey. The resulting police investigation, international manhunts and world-wide media frenzy made this the crime, and later, the trial of the century.

A year after the kidnapping of the Lindbergh Baby, on the evening of April 24, 1933, a maid in the employ of Mr. and Mrs. J. Dryden Kuser handed her mistress a letter that had just been collected at the post office by Anthony Gallo, the Kuser’s chauffeur. The letter, dated April 19, 1933 and addressed to Mrs. Kuser, demanded $12,000 be paid or else her husband would be “...kidnapped and held for five times that amount or he will be delivered.... DEAD.” The note, which was mailed in Somerville, New Jersey, on April 23, instructed her to have the money ready by Wednesday, April 26. The money, which the author of the note claimed “...is a small amount for this kind of business”, was to be in hundred and thousand dollar bills. Mrs. Kuser was then to wait for a Mr. Copeland to phone her on Wednesday at noon with instructions on how and when to deliver the money. The author requested in a postscript that the money be sealed in a large business envelope.

John Dryden Kuser was the son of Colonel Anthony Kuser and Susan “Susie” Dryden. he was born on September 24, 1899. His mother was the daughter of John F. Dryden, a United States senator and founder of the Prudential Insurance Company. His father, who financed William Fox in the formation of the Fox Film Corporation, was the president of the South Jersey Gas and Electric Lighting Company and the founder of the New Jersey Audubon Society.

Dryden, as John Kuser was known, had been the Vice President of the Lenox China Company before becoming a state senator. He was first married to Brooke Russell, who later divorced him and married into the Astor family. He then married Vivia Marie Fischer, the recipient of the threatening letter.

Quite expectedly, Vivia Kuser became very much excited over the content of the note she received and immediately phoned her husband telling him to come home from work. In the meantime, a call was placed to the State Police.

The New Jersey State Police Morristown Headquarters received the phone call at 9:38 in the evening. Sergeant Louis Kubler and a Trooper were immediately dispatched to the Kuser home in Bernardsville to investigate. While Sergeant Kubler examined the letter for fingerprints, the Trooper remained on guard at the home.

By the next morning, April 25, a plain-clothed Trooper was sent to the Kuser home to keep watch. Captain William Nicol and Sergeant August Albrecht met with Senator and Mrs. Kuser to discuss possible suspects and the procedure that would be followed during the investigation. They then left, accompanied by the senator, for the Prosecutor’s office in Somerville. The Kuser letter was compared with other threatening letters on file in the office, but no match was found. Later, a revolver and permit were issued to the senator.

The following day was the day Mr. Copeland was to telephone Mrs. Kuser at noon with instructions for delivering the money. Around 11:00 that morning, Sergeant Albrecht arrived at the Kuser home where he was informed that nothing suspicious had occurred during the night watch.

Meanwhile, Captain Nicol dispatched Troopers, in civilian clothes, to various telephone exchanges to cover any telephone calls coming through for the Kuser residence. Detective Joseph Meade met with two Troopers and instructed them to cover the telephone exchanges at Bound Brook and Peapack. He also went to the Plainfield Police Headquarters and enlisted the aid of Sergeant Baker who said that someone would be at the Plainfield exchange to monitor calls. Detective Meade then went to the Bernardsville Police Headquarters where he met with the local Constable, Clyde Wolfe. Together, they went to the Bernardsville telephone exchange and waited for the call to be made.

The Trooper arrived at Bound Brook telephone exchange at 10:50 that morning, consulted with the chief operator, and informed her of his mission. She, in turn, instructed all of the operators to be on alert for a telephone call being made to the Kuser home at “Bernardsville 272" or “276". He waited at the exchange 1:35 that afternoon. However, no calls came through. Before returning to the Berkeley Heights Sub-Station, the chief operator told him that she would continue to have her operators on alert and if a call should go through, a notation of its place of origin would be made.

The next day, the telephone rang at the Kuser home. The butler answered the phone as instructed and advised the caller that he would call Mrs. Kuser to the phone. He gave the phone to Sergeant Albrecht and Mrs. Kuser answered from the upstairs extension. “Hello?” “This is Copeland”, came the reply.

Sergeant Kubler and a Trooper had been detailed to the Bell Telephone Company’s office at Somerville. Sometime between 12:06 and 12:12 p.m., Miss Myrtle Snyder, one of the telephone operators on duty, received a call for “Bernardsville 272" – the Kuser home. The call was traced to “Somerville 1945", a payphone located at Frank Yurek’s Candy Store, 10 East Somerset Street in Raritan. Immediately, the Troopers who were stationed at the Raritan Police Station and the Bell Telephone office were ordered to proceed to the store and apprehend the person making the call. They arrived and found Mr. George Sabol still on the phone talking to Mrs. Kuser.

As a Trooper approached the front of the telephone booth, Sabol stopped in mid-sentence and hung-up the phone. The Trooper immediately called Miss Snyder, the operator, and asked whether the man who just hung up the telephone was the man who was speaking to Mrs. Kuser. She informed him that Sabol had indeed just telephoned the Kuser home and that he had only been talking to Mrs. Kuser for about 10 seconds before the Trooper called her on the phone. She also informed him that the man who had just hung up the phone was the same man that called the Kuser’s that noon.

George Sabol, a single 28 year-old from Raritan, was placed under arrest and taken to the Bernardsville Police Headquarters for questioning. Sergeant Albrecht searched him and a receipt was found in his shirt pocket. The receipt was for a “Copeland” refrigerator. Sabol was questioned and he denied having any connection with the crime. He was then taken to the Somerville State Police Station for further questioning where, in the presence of the Prosecutor, he made a complete confession.

Sabol was born in Providence, Rhode Island, moving to Raritan in 1915. He had worked for three years as a stock clerk for the New Jersey Tobacco Company in Somerville. Having been unemployed five months previous, he said he had “...been broke since about the first of February.” When asked what his reasons were for writing the letter, he simply replied, “I needed money.” He chose to write to Mrs. Kuser because “...she was a woman and would be easier and if I sent it to Mr. Kuser he would not pay any attention to it.” If she refused to meet his demands, Sabol “...was going to let it go. When I started to phone, I just couldn’t go through with it.”

George Sabol’s ordeal began on April 11, 1933 when he wrote the letter to Mrs. Kuser, thinking that it would be one way of getting money. He borrowed stationary from his sister and put the letter in his pocket, carrying it around with him, trying to muster up the courage to send it. “I carried it in my pocket until Sunday, April 23rd...I was going to the bus terminal and I dropped it in the mail box on Division Street [in] Somerville.” Before doing so, he changed the date of the letter from the 11th to the 19th and the date of the phone call from the 12th to the 26th. To make the phone call, he borrowed a dollar from his sister on the previous Sunday.

Had Mrs. Kuser agreed to the terms, Sabol was going to have her come alone to Duke’s Park on a road leading to a fountain. He was going to have her park there or drive slowly and he would then meet her. “I was going to ask her how she was going to come, what kind of car and all that.”

George Sabol appeared before Judge Reger of the Special Sessions Court of Somerset County where he pled guilty. On May 12, 1933, he was sentenced to “not less than 18 months or more than 2 years 6 months” in State Prison.

At 9:30 in the morning of July 3, 1933, Senator J. Dryden Kuser phoned the Morristown Headquarters of the New Jersey State Police. He was requesting that Troopers visit him at his Bernardsville home regarding a new threatening letter he had just received.

Sergeant Albrecht and Detective Meade drove out to the Senator’s home where they were shown a letter post marked “New Brunswick Jul 1 6PM 1933.” The letter and envelope were both printed using a black crayon. The letter read:

Cuser,
So you think is all gone and forgotten hey may be
we are too poor
to revenga you senda the boy to jail
we senda you to hell You wife no save
you this time
We send back your head to her no fone next time see

REVENGA

The Troopers took the letter and envelope back to the Troop Headquarters where they were processed for fingerprints. A confidential look-up was then arranged of the names and addresses of George Sabol’s relatives. Later, they proceeded to the Prosecutor’s office in Somerville where the Kuser letter was compared to other threatening letters on file. No matching comparison was found.

Further investigation was made into the possibility of matching the Kuser letter with other threatening letters at the New Brunswick Police Headquarters and the New Brunswick Prosecutor’s office. Again, there were no matching letters on file.

The “July letter” was received only two months after the arrest and conviction of Geroge Sabol. Because of this, it became the opinion of the State Police investigator that either a relative of Sabol or a crank had written the letter in an attempt to influence Senator Kuser with regards to Sabol’s sentencing. Sergeant Albrecht recommended that the case be closed “...due to the limitation of prosecution.” Captain Will Nicol concurred with this recommendation and the case was closed.

WORKS CONSULTED

Albrecht, A.H. Sgt. Secondary and Final Report. 11M10. New Jersey State Police. circa February 17, 1936.

-----. Initial Report. 11F4. New Jersey State Police. April 27, 1933.

-----. Initial Report. 11M10. New Jersey State Police. July 3, 1933.

Astor, Brooke. Footprints: An Autobiography. Doubleday & Company, Inc., NY. 1980.

Cunningham, T.H. Sgt. Final Report. 11F5. New Jersey State Police. November 26, 1935.

Freeman, Theo. H. Tpr. Secondary Report. 11F4. New Jersey State Police. April 26, 1933.

Geran, A. W. Tpr. Secondary Report. 11F4. New Jersey State Police. April 26, 1933.

Justin, A. Tpr. Secondary Report. 11F4. New Jersey State Police. April 25-26, 1933.

Kubler, L. Sgt. Secondary Report. 11F4. New Jersey State Police. April 26, 1933.

Kuser, Edna Howe. The Kuser Story. Township of Hamilton, NJ August 1978.

Meade, Joseph Det. Secondary Report. 11F4. New Jersey State Police. April 26, 1933.

Russell, J.G. Tpr. Secondary Report. 11F4. New Jersey State Police. April 26, 1933.

Sabol, George. Statement. April 28, 1933.

First Test Issued by NJ State Police - 1921

2007-06-01T00:01:00.000-04:00

S T A T E O F N E W J E R S E Y
DEPARTMENT OF STATE POLICE
STATE HOUSE, TRENTON

MENTAL EXAMINATION NUMBER ONE

NAME________________________________________________________________________

ADDRESS____________________________________________________________________

Time___________Beginning____________Finishing____________Examination____________

DIRECTIONS: Read these directions carefully before going ahead. You are expected to understand them without help. Do not ask the examiner in charge any questions. He is not permitted to answer them. Work as rapidly as you can, but work carefully. Speed is important, but accuracy counts more than speed. You will have exactly twenty minutes for the entire examination. You are not expected to answer every question, but do as many as you can in the time allowed. Read each question carefully and fully before answering it. If you cannot answer it readily, pass on to the next question.

-------------------------------------------------

TEST 1: Read this paragraph and then write YES or NO in answer to the
questions which follow. Read the paragraph again if you need to.

This test is given to see how quickly and accurately you can do as you are told. It therefore determines your ability to understand and follow printed orders. It is a test of memory as well as of comprehension, judgement, and reasoning. But most of all it determines your degree of mental alertness. Guessing will not contribute to accuracy in your responses.

1. Does it say that this test shows how fast you can follow directions?__________

2. Does it say that a man can succeed in it who is unable to read printing?________

3. Does it sate that imagination is measured by it?_________

4. Does it claim to estimate mental sluggishness?___________

5. Does it say that theory or guesswork is indispensable for successful answers?_________

TEST 2: Read the following and do what it says.

1. Put a dot below this line: ___________

2. Cross out the third letter in JERSEY.

3. Draw a circle around the second letter before the X in TEXAS

4. If MARCH comes after MAY, make two crosses here____________, but if not make a circle here___________, or, else a square here___________.

5. If in the following words the letter E comes just before the letter A more times than right after the letter I, then put a line under each word containing the letter A and the letter E:

Receive Feather Teacher Believe

TEST 3: Answer these examples:

1. How many are 60 guns and 7 guns?_______

2. How many hours will it take to ride 42 miles at the rate of 6 miles per hour?______

3. If you buy 2 packages of tobacco at 8¢ each and a pipe for 65¢, how much change should you get from a two dollar bill?_________________________

4. A dealer bought some mules for $1,200. He sold them for $1,500. Making $50.00 on each mule, how many mules were there?________________

5. A motorcyclist patrols 8 miles an hour on rough roads and 80 miles an hour on improved highways. How long will it take him to patrol 100 miles if he has to go 2/5 of the distance over rough roads?___________________

TEST 4: In each sentence below you have four choices for the last word. Only one of them is correct. In each sentence draw a line under the best answer.

1. The capital of New Jersey is NEWARK, CAMDEN, TRENTON, PATERSON.

2. A sorrel is a kind of COW, HORSE, DOG, BIRD.

3. A troop-horse costs about $100, $200, $400, $800.

4. The U.S. Naval Academy is at WEST POINT, NEW HAVEN, ANNAPOLIS, ITHACA.

5. Habeas Corpus is a term used in MEDICINE, LAW, THEOLOGY PEDAGOGY.

6. Christie Mathewson is famous as a WRITER, ARTIST, COMEDIAN, BASEBALL PLAYER

7. General Lee surrendered at Appomattox in 1612, 1865, 1885, 1832.

8. Air and gasoline are mixed in the ACCELERATOR, CARBURETOR, GEAR-CASE, DIFFERENTIAL.

9. The State Prison is located in JERSEY CITY, TRENTON, ATLANTIC CITY, PHILIPSBURG.

10. President Harding was born in NEW JERSEY, CALIFORNIA, VIRGINIA, OHIO.

TEST 5: Read the following questions and answers. Three answers are given to each situation, but only one of each three is correct. Make a cross on the line before the best answer to each question.

1. Why do soldiers wear wrist watches instead of pocket watches?
Because:
________they keep better time.
________they are harder to break.
________they are handier.

2. Why is it wiser to put some money aside and not spend it at all?
Because you should:
________have money to spend when you wish.
________prepare for old age or sickness.
________help the banks in their business.

3. Why are criminals locked up?
________to protect society.
________to get even with them.
________to make them work.

4. Why should a married man have his life insured?
Because:
________death may come at any time.
________insurance companies are usually honest.
________his family will not suffer if he dies.

5. Why should we have Congressmen?
Because:
________the people must be ruled.
________it insures truly representative government
________the people are too many to meet and make their own laws.

MENTAL EXAMINATION -- NUMBER TWO

1. State carefully what you consider the essential qualifications of a good State Trooper. (Not more than one hundred words)

2. What should be the highest aim of every member of the State Police?

3. (a) Which is the "Off" side of a horse?
(b) Do you feed a horse before or after watering? State why.
(c) What five (5) qualities impress you most about a horse?

4. Why do you stand at attention when you hear the "Star Spangle Banner?" [sic]

5. (a) Name four rivers in New Jersey.
(b) Name the four largest cities in New Jersey.
(c) How many counties are there in New Jersey?
(d) Name four railroads operating in New Jersey.
(e) Would you recommend naming or numbering State Highways? Why?

6. Why are governments established.

7. (a) What is Valley Forge famous for?
(b) Name two battles fought in New Jersey during the Revolutionary War.
(c) Name three Jerseyites and state in what they have received National recognition.

8. When in the performance of your duty does "Honor" not apply?

9. (a) Name four athletic championships of the World that are now held by America.
(b) What is your favorite sport and why. (Be brief)
(c) What are the underlying principles of true "sportsmanship."

10. In a few words describe what constitutes:
(a) A mollycoddle.
(b) A hero.
(c) A coward.

11. What in your opinion constitutes "Success."

The following question will not be counted for or against you. It must be answered. Criticism will not count against you. You need feel no reservation. Be frank and candid.

What is your honest opinion of this examiniation?

What size hat do you wear?

What size shoes do you wear?

Septimus Banks - A Butler to Stars

2007-05-01T10:40:00.000-04:00

On September 28, 1891 the great American novelist, Herman Melville, died in New York City. On that same day, several thousand miles away, in the east London borough of Hackney, Septimus Samuel Banks was born.[1] The son of Samuel and Marian Laurence Banks, Septimus left school at the age of 15 to work for a Dr. Hanock in Leightonstone, London for three years. He then worked for two years for R.B.C. Chapman and later the Lady Donald Stewart, for about a year and eleven months.

For the next three years he worked for the Honourable Mrs. Morrison of 14 Grosvenor Crescent, London. After this, he spent four months working for Lord Islington of Harman Park, Corsham who, at this time, was the Undersecretary of State for India.[2]

He then worked for Andrew Carnegie in Scotland. On September 18, 1914, he emigrated to the United States on the R.M.S. Lusitania from Nornoch, Scotland[3]. He continued to work for Andrew Carnegie at 2 East 91st Street in New York City for four and a half years.

During the First World War, he enlisted in the 70th Battery, Canadian Field Artillery as a gunner. In May 1918, he married Rose Flynn, a native of New York City and daughter of Irish immigrants.[4] Sadly, on the afternoon of November 21, 1929, Rose Banks died from Delirium Tremens caused by alcohol poisoning. She was buried four days later in St. Raymond’s Cemetery in the Bronx.[5]

Banks was discharged from the Canadian Army on Christmas Day, 1918 and he returned to New York. In January 1919, he entered into service with Dwight Morrow. Dwight Morrow was a United States Senator and later Ambassador to Mexico. Septimus worked continuously worked for Mr. Morrow until October 1927 when Senator Morrow was appointed as Ambassador to Mexico. Banks stayed behind and became a free lance in the catering business working for Charles Welsh of 157 East 80th Street until June 1931 when he re-entered the service of the Morrow Family.

Septimus served as both a butler and personal valet to Senator Morrow. On October 4, 1931, he became the last person to see Dwight Morrow alive:

Shortly before midnight on Sunday, October 4, 1931, Dwight Morrow leaned on the arm of his waiting valet and walked slowly up the stairs of his darkened house. Morrow usually wasn’t one to lean, but he had never felt so tired. He and Banks climbed up the winding lantern-lit stairway to the second floor and turned toward the double wooden doors of the master suite. As Morrow wished banks a ‘good night’, Banks noted that Morrow looked uncommonly pale...[6]

Around eleven the next morning, Morrow’s secretary, Arthur Springer, and Septimus Banks entered the bedroom and found the Senator unconscious, the victim of a stroke. Two and a half hours later, Dwight Morrow died at Englewood Hospital.[7]

Five monthslater, at approximately 10:00 A.M. on 1 March 1932, Septimus answered the telephone at the Morrow Estate in Englewood, New Jersey. On the phone was Anne Lindbergh, the daughter of Dwight and Elizabeth Morrow. She was calling from her new home in Hopewell, New Jersey. She requested to speak to Betty Gow, the nanny/nurse for her 20 month old son, Charles A. Lindbergh, Jr. She was requesting that Betty be sent to Hopewell to help care for the baby since both the baby and Anne were suffering from a bad cold.

It was sometime between 8:00 and 10:00 that evening that the Lindbergh baby was kidnapped from his nursery in Hopewell, New Jersey. Although Septimus was cleared as a suspect by the authorities, he was interrogated and his background was investigated.

It was speculated that Septimus Banks was an alcoholic. In a 1932 FBI report, it was stated that Septimus was

“employed off and on for a period of about fifteen years; had been discharged several times because of drunkenness and re-employed. At the time of the kidnapping, [he] had been steadily employed for four or five years. [He] is said to have done most of his drinking in a speakeasy in the Yorkville section of New York City around 70th Street...and that he was very talkative and quite irresponsible when drunk and on several occasions had to be loaded in a taxicab to be taken home.”[8]

Banks was also alleged to have frequented a Fort Lee, New Jersey speakeasy called the Sha-Toe, “a hang-out for horseplayers” and reportedly told the police he was there on the night of March 1, 1932.[9]

According to one of his co-workers, Mrs. Marguerite Junge, “...none of the servants brought liquor to the estate with the exception of Banks, who besides drinking at speakeasies, occasionally had a bootlegger deliver liquor to him in bottles at the estate at night, and that the bootlegger would leave the bottles in a window where Banks could get it later...”[10]

Marguerite Junge also told the FBI that after Dwight Morrow died in October 1931, “...one of the [Morrow] servants told [her] that...Septimus Banks, the butler, [was] left out of the will, but that it was believed that Senator Morrow had intended to make some provision for [him]. It was Mrs. Junge’s opinion that Mrs. Morrow felt that if Banks received a large sum of money he would spend it in dissipation and that she kept him on as butler in spite of his drinking habits because of Senator Morrow’s regard for him, and so that he would always have a home..” [11]

Septimus Banks was rumored to be the fiancé of Violet Sharp, a maid in the employ of the Morrow household. Miss Sharp was a prime suspect, for a while, in the Lindbergh Kidnapping Case because when was interrogated by the New Jersey State Police and Jersey City Police, she continuously lied, contradicted herself and misled the investigators. Finally, when the police called to schedule a fourth interview with her on 10 June 1932, she committed suicide by drinking potassium chloride – silver polish.

According to the FBI Summary Report of February 1934, Septimus was “...reported to have entered a sanitarium, Central Park West, near 66th Street, and to have remained there two weeks during August 1932. Rumor prevalent among the Morrow servants is to the effect that the death of Violet Sharpe [sic] completely unnerved him. He is reported to have again spent some time in this sanitarium just prior to Christmas, 1932, as a result of overindulgence in alcoholic stimulants.”[12]

On April 21, 1939 Septimus was once again employed by Charles Welch of 157 East 80th Street in New York City. Banks was at this time living in College Point, New York.[13]
In 1942, at the age of 50, Septimus Banks registered for the Selective Service. After the United States entered World War II in December 1941, all men between the ages of 45 and 64 were required to register for the Draft. Known as “The Fourth Registration” (or colloquially, as “The Old Man’s Registration”), this registration was conducted on April 27, 1942. At this time, Septimus was living at 304 East 72nd Street in New York and he worked at 141 East 56th Street[14].

Nothing else is known of Mr. Banks except that he died in Matawan, New Jersey in January 1970 at the age of 79.[15]

Works Cited

Adriatic, RMS. Manifest. 10 September 1922. http://www.ellisisland.org/

Banks, Rose. Death Certificate. November 21, 1929. Department of Health of the City of New York, Bureau of Records

Banks, Septimus S. Social Security Account Application. U.S. Social Security Administration,
April 27, 1939.

Banks, Septimus S. Social Security Death Master File. RootsWeb.com, Inc. http://ssdi.genealogy.rootsweb.com/

Hertog, Susan. Anne Morrow Lindbergh: Her Life. Doubleday, New York: 1999.

Lusitania, RMS. Manifest. 18 September 1914. http://www.ellisisland.org/

Milton, Joyce. Loss of Eden: A Biography of Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh. HarperCollins, New York: 1993.

Seykora, J.E. Report. US Department of Justice. 5/10/34. New Jersey State Police Lindbergh Files. Files, F-447.

Seykora, J.E. Report. US Department of Justice. 5/18/34. New Jersey State Police Lindbergh Files, F-447.

Sisk, T.H. Summary Report. US Department of Justice. 1 February 1934.

[1]Statement, Septimus S. Banks to New Jersey State Police. New Jersey State Police Statement File. April 13, 1932; his middle name can be found on the Manifest of the RMS Lusitania. See note 3.
[2]The Rt. Hon. Lord Islington, PC KCMG DSO (John Dixon Poynder) was Governor of New Zealand from January 1910 through December 1912; Undersecretary of State for India in 1913 and a member of the House of Lords who spoke in favour of granting women the right to vote in England and, in 1923, spoke in opposition to the Balfour Declaration.
[3]Manifest, RMS Lusitania. 18 September 1914. http://www.ellisisland.org/
[4]Septimus Banks and Rose Flynn. Marriage Certificate. May 1929. Department of Health of the City of New York, Bureau of Records; also Rose Banks Death Certificate. November 21, 1929. Department of Health of the City of New York, Bureau of Records.
[5]Rose Banks. Death Certificate.
[6]Susan Hertog. Anne Morrow Lindbergh: Her Life. Doubleday, NY: 1999. p146.
[7]Hertog. p147.
[8]J.E. Seykora, US Department of Justice. 5/10/34. New Jersey State Police Lindbergh Files, F-447.
[9]Joyce Milton. Loss of Eden: A Biography of Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Page 258).
[10]J.E. Seykora, US Department of Justice. 5/18/34. New Jersey State Police Lindbergh Files, F-447.
[11]ibid.
[12]T.H. Sisk. Summary Report. US Department of Justice. 1 February 1934, p. 94.
[13]Social Security Application for Account Number. Septimus Samuel Banks. April 27, 1939.
[14]Registration Card. U.S. Selective Service.
[15]Social Security Death Master file. http://ssdi.genealogy.rootsweb.com/

Mission to Iran

2007-04-01T00:24:00.000-04:00

At the outbreak of World War II, the Empire of Iran declared itself neutral. In 1941, after Hitler invaded the Soviet Union, the allies needed to ship supplies and war matériel to the Soviets through Iran. This would have violated Iran’s neutrality so Britain and the Soviet Union simultaneously invaded Iran on August 26, 1941. The invasion was successful and the allies were able to ship over 5 million tons of supplies across the Iranian frontier into the Soviet Union.

On September 16, 1941 the pro-West Mohammed Reza Shah Pahlavi ascended to the Peacock Throne after his father abdicated. He ruled as the Shah (or Emperor) of Iran until he was deposed in the Islamic Revolution of 1979. In an attempt to build up American influence in Iran, the United States provided the Shah with a military assistance as well as assisting with the establishment of an internal security force under his direct command.

The Imperial Iranian Gendarmerie was the first modern highway patrol and rural police force in Iran. Established in 1910, the Gendarmerie went through several changes over the course of the Twentieth Century.

In December 1921, at the same time the New Jersey State Police was beginning its first patrol, the Gendarmerie was amalgamated into the Iranian Army. Four months later, the Iranian parliament established a new Gendarmerie. It was a relatively weak police force and was scattered throughout the Persian countryside. According to the Encyclopaedia Iranica, “...it’s main duty was to give warning of the existence of robbers and to identify the perpetrators of any robbery, generally leaving their pursuit and capture to the army...the broad responsibility for tribal pacification and rural control...remained with the army.”

After the Anglo-Soviet invasion of 1941, the Allies met with the Iranian government to discuss the country’s security and policing needs. In late 1942, the Shah’s government and the United States “...reached a series of agreements for the provision of American advisers” to assist with the military, the police and finances. General George Marshall, Army Chief of Staff, met with Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf and ordered him to Tehran as an advisor to the Imperial Iranian Gendarmerie.

Known as GENMISH, the mission to Iran was to “advise and assist the Persian ministry of the interior in the reorganization and training of the Gendarmerie...” As could be expected, GENMISH, and Colonel Schwarzkopf in particular, were the targets of both popular and organized nationalist opposition. Even the Shah was unhappy, being “...incensed at the very broad powers exercised by Schwarzkopf.”

A total of twenty-four American officers and enlisted men worked to reorganize, train, arm and command the 20,000-strong rural paramilitary police force. “By 1944-45, GENMISH had achieved considerable success with its reorganization, recruitment and training programs and had gone some way towards re-establishing the central government’s authority in the countryside. By December 1944 the US military attaché in Tehran believed that the army and Gendarmerie had improved to the point where Allied troop withdrawals would not jeopardize the security of the central government.” (Encyclopaedia Iranica)

It is interesting to note that, while Schwarzkopf was under the jurisdiction of the American Minister in Tehran and later the War Department, “...if the British...should employ the Gendarmerie to maintain security [in their region of Iran], then Colonel Schwarzkopf, in his capacity as an officer of the Gendarmerie, would come under British command.” This provision of the GENMISH mission never came into force.

Early on during his tour of duty, Schwarzkopf familiarized himself with the problems facing the Gendarmerie, visited the Gendarmerie posts throughout the countryside and reported his findings to the Iranian Minister of the Interior and eventually presented the Prime Minister a plan for the reorganization of the Gendarmerie.

By the end of summer 1944, Schwarzkopf established training schools “...for sergeants, motorcycle riders, and truck drivers, and had planned six others.” He also arranged for the United States to send a radio engineer to install a communications system. This was only a small fraction of his overall plan for the Gendarmerie, but he had learned that “...the work of his mission [was] beset with conditions of intrigue and inefficiency marked by a succession of eleven ministers of interior during the two years after his arrival.”(Motter, 1952).

The Iranians did accept nine demands Schwarzkopf put forth for the Gendarmerie, including remaining independent of the Army, a budget, pensions, the establishment of an elite corps, genuine government support of the GENMISH mission’s efforts, and the elimination of graft, red tape and reform delays. (Motter, 1952).

Although by the end of the war many of the reforms had not been implemented, the achievements of Schwarzkopf and the GENMISH mission were considerable. Most important was the improvement of the overall condition of the Gendarmerie and the creation of an esprit de corps among the ranks. Fighting illiteracy and opium addiction amongst its members, progress was finally able to be made. Under Colonel Schwarzkopf, the Gendarmerie rank and file “...moved steadily toward a better sense of discipline and respect.” (Motter, 1952).

Once again, H. Norman Schwarzkopf was able to beat the odds and transform an ineffective rural police force into an efficient, honest and respectful “Outfit.”

Photograph: Members of the Imperial Iranian Gendarmerie on a visit to New Jersey State Police Headquarters in West Trenton, 1955. (NJSP Museum Photo Collection)

Sources:

AllRefer Reference (http://reference.allrefer.com/country-guide-study/iran/iran19.htm)

Encyclopaedia Iranica. (www.iranica.com/articles/v10f4/v10f448.html)

United States Army in World War II: The Middle East Theater. The Persian Corridor and Aid to Russia. By T.H. Vail Motter, Washington, D.C. 1952.

British Suspects: America’s Most Famous Kidnapping’s British Connection

2007-03-01T00:01:00.000-05:00

At 10:24 on the evening of May 21, 1927, the life of an unknown airmail pilot from the Midwestern United States changed forever. As Charles A. Lindbergh landed the Spirit of St. Louis at La Borget airfield, he became the first person to successfully fly from New York City to Paris, France. The triumphant end of his 33 ½-hour flight transformed this unassuming, shy, Minnesota airmail pilot into a world hero and media superstar.

Lindbergh returned to the United States and began a “Good-Will” tour of the nation in an attempt to promote civilian aviation. In December 1927, the American ambassador to Mexico, Dwight Morrow, invited Lindbergh and the Spirit of St. Louis to visit. Mexican/American relations were quite tense at that time and the Ambassador believed, correctly, that a visit by Lindbergh would help to improve those relations.

While in Mexico City, Lindbergh met the Ambassador’s daughter, Anne Morrow. Soon thereafter, they began dating (she was Lindbergh’s first girlfriend). On May 27, 1929 they were married in her parents’ home in Englewood, New Jersey.

The Lindberghs tried, unsuccessfully, to lead a private and quiet life. They had hoped that by building their home in the isolated Sourland Mountains of New Jersey they would be left alone at last. Unfortunately, this was not to be the case.

On the evening of March 1, 1932 their first-born son, Charles Jr., was kidnapped from his second floor nursery. A ransom of $50,000 (about $750,000 of 2007’s dollars) was paid, but the Little Eaglet, as he was known, was not returned. Sadly, he was found dead in the woods, five miles from the Lindbergh’s home.

The New Jersey State Police were called in to investigate. Every lead, no matter how unlikely, was investigated. It was not until September 1934, however, that the police had their first real lead: a German immigrant carpenter had bought gas with a $10 Gold Certificate that was part of the ransom money. As luck would have it, the gas station attendant recorded the man’s license number on the edge of the bill. It should be noted that he did not do this because he was thinking it was Lindbergh ransom money. The United States had gone off the gold standard about a year prior and all of the gold certificates and coins in the country were recalled. The attendant was afraid the bank would no longer accept the gold currency, so he wanted a way to track down the customer and get his money.

The police traced the bill to Bruno Richard Hauptmann, a German carpenter living in the Bronx. He was arrested and extradited to Flemington, New Jersey and on February 13, 1936 was found guilty of the kidnapping and murder of Charles A. Lindbergh, Jr. A year later, on April 3, 1936 Richard Hauptmann was executed in Trenton, New Jersey.

The investigation that lead to Hauptmann’s arrest spanned two continents and involved not only the New Jersey State Police, but several hundred local police, the FBI and even Scotland Yard. Initially, the prime suspects were the domestic staff of both the Lindbergh’s home and the Morrow home in Englewood.

The Nanny
Many of the servants employed by the Lindberghs and Morrows were immigrants from Europe, several from Great Britain. Betty Gow was the “Little Lindy’s” nanny. She was born at 26 Polmadie Street in Glasgow, Scotland on February 12, 1904. Her mother was Isabella McLaglan. Her father, William Gordon Gow, was a baker. Betty was a member of the Govanhill Parish Church and she attended Wolseley Street and Haysfield Street public schools to the age of fourteen.

Betty worked as a sales girl in various stores in Glasgow. Her first job was as a dressmaker with Copland & Lyre, warehousemen, at 165 Sauchiehall Street. Six months later, she was working with the Kinning Park Co-Operative Society on Rutherglen Road as a cash girl. She left this job due to illness. Later, in 1923, she was employed by A.L. Scott, Boot Factors, on Argyle Street, first in the warehouse and later in their branch shop in Sauchiehall Street. She worked there for six years, quitting to move to America.

Betty immigrated to the United States on April 27, 1929 on the steamship Cameronia of the Anchor Line. She first came to Bogota, New Jersey where her brother, William, lived. Two days later she moved to Teaneck, New Jersey where she worked as a nanny for the Gibbs family. She then moved to Detroit where she was employed by the Adam Jackson family of Lakeweed Street. Mrs. Jackson was the sister-in-law of Betty’s brother William.

After leaving the employment of the Jackson family, she worked for a few days with the Ross Family and later for the Moser Family of Grosse Pointe before returning to New Jersey in October 1930.

Once back in New Jersey, she obtained work through the Lydia Lonquist Employment Agency with Mrs. Warren Sullivan of Englewood. She worked there for nine months before taking the position of nanny with the Lindbergh family in 1931.

Betty was the last person to see the baby alive. She had put him to bed around 7:30 pm and when she returned to check on him at 10:00, she discovered he was missing. Naturally, the police wanted to thoroughly investigate her. During her interrogations, they learned that she was dating a Norwegian sailor who jumped ship in March 1927. An illegal alien, Finn Henrik (Henry) Johnson managed to secure a job on Thomas Lamont’s yacht. In 1930, Betty was with the Lindbergh’s at their summer retreat in North Haven, Maine. It was while here that she met “Red” Johnson who was also in North Haven with the Lamont’s yacht.

Henry and Betty became prime suspects. Henry was arrested in Connecticut and interrogated and later released and he returned to Norway. Betty, too, was cleared of any compliance in the kidnapping by the New Jersey State Police. She continued in the employ of the Lindbergh’s, caring for their second child, Jon, who was born in August 1932.

After the trial of Richard Hauptmann, Betty Gow returned to Scotland and lived on Kings Park Avenue in Rutherglen, just outside Glasgow. She retired as a manager from the Ilene Adairs Dress Shop. She never married.

Betty died on July 16, 1996 at the Victoria Infirmary Annex in Glasgow at the age of 92.

The Butler and his Wife
Olly Whateley was born in Birmingham, England in 1885. He attended school up to the age of 15 when he took-up trade as a jeweler. He served his apprenticeship with Tandy & Sons of Birmingham and worked with them for 20 years.

From 1914 to 1918, Whateley was employed in the munitions plant in Birmingham. After the First World War, he went into business as a manufacturing jeweler and had his shop on Vyse Street in Birmingham. In 1926, he went to work for his brother-in-law, George Ward, who was the manager of Ward & Co Machine Shop on Dale Road.

In 1929, he left for the United States with his wife, Elsie, aboard the S.S. Scythia, arriving on March 12, 1930. Elsie was born in Birmingham on November 2, 1884. Like her future husband, she attended school to the age of 15 when she went into an office to work as a secretary. She did clerical work for six years and also took singing lessons for eight years.

While in the States, Olly was first employed by J.H. Potter of Mendham, New Jersey, as a butler. On October 15, 1930, he and Elsie obtained employment with the Lindberghs through the Hutchinson Employment Agency. The Whateleys acted as caretakers of Lindbergh’s estate in Hopewell, New Jersey during its construction. When the Lindberghs were in residence, the Whateleys took on the role of Butler and Housekeeper.

On May 23, 1933, Olly Whateley died in Princeton Hospital where he had undergone an operation for a perforated stomach ulcer. Just a few years later, Elsie would succumb to cancer.

Just a Scullery Maid
Violet Sharp was born on July 25, 1904 in Bradfield, England and later moved with her family to Beenham in Berkshire. Her brother James served with the First Royal Berks Regiment in Fyzabad (Dingapore), India. Violet and her sister, Emily, attended the Beenham School and Violet left there at age 14. In 1926 Violet went to work in London for Mr. Pearce Leigh in Gloucester Square, Paddington as a parlor maid.

Violet and Emily always had a desire to travel and they decided to move to Canada. Violet booked their trip at Canada House in London and they sailed from Southampton. They traveled Third Class to Quebec. From there, they continued on to Toronto.

Violet and Emily stayed at the Women’s Hostel on Carlton Street that was also a “servants agency.” Both obtained work through this hostel: Emily worked for Lady Kept of 7 Frank Road, Toronto, as a kitchen maid. She went by the name Edna Sharp while working there. Violet, meanwhile, went to work for a Mrs. Eaton of Island Avenue, Rosedale, Toronto, as a waitress. They both held their jobs for approximately three months.

On April 14, 1930 Violet entered the United States via Niagara Falls, New York as a quota immigrant. On May 13, 1930 she entered the employ of the Morrow Family in Englewood where she worked as a maid and became quite popular among the Morrow servants.

During the course of the investigation of the Lindbergh Kidnapping Case, the police interrogated all of the domestic servants. When it came time to question Violet Sharp, the police noticed suspicious behavior. It became obvious to the police that Violet was lying about her whereabouts on the night of March 1st. The police questioned her three times, and each time Violet would contradict her previous statements. Finally, on June 10th, 1932, the police called requesting a fourth interview. She agreed, but before they arrived, Violet had run upstairs to her room and drank silver polish – it contained cyanide. She died just a few minutes later.
This, of course, convinced the press (and the police, initially) that she was indeed involved - somehow - with the kidnapping. Further investigation by the police, however, revealed that she was not involved in any way that they could determine.

Her suicide became an international scandal. The Daily Mirror in England ran the headline Murder By Third Degree. On June 20, 1932, Brigadier General Clifton Brown, a Conservative MP from Newbury, rose in the House of Commons to address the issue of possible mistreatment of a British subject by the New Jersey State Police:

Is my Honourable Friend aware that the parents, owing to letters that they have had from their late daughter, are quite convinced that, owing to the methods of investigation that have been pursued, she committed suicide and that they are very anxious in the interests of justice that the whole case should be investigated?

We will never know for sure why Violet committed suicide. The police could find no tangible connection between her and the kidnapping. It is possible that she was hiding facts not about the kidnapping but about her personal lifestyle. It was learned that, while “unofficially engaged” to the Morrow Butler, Septimus Banks, she continued to see other men. The police discovered that rather than seeing a movie on the night of the kidnapping she had, in fact, gone to a roadhouse called The Peanut Grille. The most disturbing discovery was that she had been a spy for the New York Daily News, leaking confidential information about the Morrows and Lindberghs to a reporter named McKelvie. While the police dismissed this as petty, for Mrs. Morrow’s servants it was quite serious. Violet would almost definitely have been dismissed and she would have faced scorn and shunning by the other servants – her friends – who took their oath of loyalty to the family seriously.

Keeping Up Appearances
One staff member who took her position in the Morrow household seriously was Josephine “Jo” Graeme. Mrs. Roderick Cecil Henry Grimes-Graeme was Mrs. Morrow’s private secretary since November 1919 and she would represent Mrs. Morrow when she was not at home. She also had the responsibility of hiring and directing the duties of all of the household servants.
Her late husband had been with the British Civil Service in South Africa. She had two sons, Arthur David Grimes-Graeme, who was born in Transvaal, South Africa, and Cecil Grimes-Graeme who was born in England. Both of her children attended McGill University in Montreal, Canada and resided on Victoria Street.

Jo Graeme maintained an upper-middle class lifestyle. She earned a salary of $350 per month ($5250 in today’s dollars) and maintained an apartment on East 73rd Street in Manhattan for $125 per month ($1875.17). It was rumoured that the Morrow estate paid for the apartment and the college tuition of her two sons. However, there was no mention of her or her sons in Senator Morrow’s will.

Jo Graeme was not well liked by the servants who worked under her, many of them characterizing her as a high flyer and they accused her of taking kickbacks from local merchants when she placed orders for the Morrows. They possibly were jealous of her being so close with the Morrow family. Newspapers reported that she and her sons would, at times, attend social functions at the Morrow home. Joe was also a confidante of Anne Morrow before her wedding and later of Constance Morrow. In fact, Constance would occasionally spend time at Jo Graeme’s Manhattan apartment when she was in town.

Although the servants did what they could to discredit Jo Graeme, the FBI was more interested her two sons. When Colonel Lindbergh authorized the payment of the $50,000 ransom in St. Raymond’s Cemetery, he was given a note with instructions on where he could find his child. The note told him to look for a boat called “Nelly” near Martha’s Vineyard. It turns out that the Graeme family had often spent their summers at Oak Bluffs on Martha’s Vineyard, not far from the spot where the ransom note directed Colonel Lindbergh to search for his son.

In addition, it was believed that because they had spent time in South Africa, the sons would have been able to fake the Germanic grammar and spelling that was found in the ransom notes. The FBI and the New Jersey State Police requested samples of their handwriting. When Jo Graeme learned of this, she protested to the British Embassy in New York. The Ambassador, in turn, warned the authorities that British subjects could not be questioned without approval of the Embassy. With a lack of evidence connecting the Graeme brothers with the kidnapping, the investigation was dropped.

The New Jersey State Police, the FBI and Scotland Yard investigated hundreds of suspects in both North America and Europe. All of the leads were dead-ends until the fateful day when the German carpenter from the Bronx decided to fill his gas tank. With the arrest of Bruno Richard Hauptmann, the authorities focussed their resources on his investigation. While the police were still under the assumption that he was part of a gang, it was decided to prosecute him as the lone culprit. Any question of others being involved had to be pushed aside; the Prosecution needed a conviction – a conviction that would carry the death penalty.

The British suspects, as well as most of the other suspects in the Lindbergh Case, were simply ordinary people caught in an extraordinary situation. Usually, it is only the prominent family members that are remembered throughout history. But in 1932, a handful of household servants were elevated to the same level of notoriety and public interest as their wealthy employers.

WORKS CONSULTED

Berg, A. Scott. Lindbergh. G.P. Putnam’s Sons, NY: 1998.

City of Glasgow Police. Report. [unsigned]. Criminal Investigation Department. April 5, 1932.

Fisher, Jim. The Lindbergh Case. Rutgers University Press, New Brunswick: 1987.

Gow, Betty. Death Certificate. July 16, 1996.

-----. Statement. March 10, 1932.

-----. Statement. March 3, 1932.

Graeme, Josephine. Statement. April 13, 1932.

Hertog, Susan. Anne Morrow Lindbergh: A Life. Dobuleday, NY: 1999.

Horwell, Chief Inspector. Report. Metropolitan Police, Criminal Investigation Department, New Scotland Yard, London. June 13, 1932.

Horwell, Chief Inspector. Report. Metropolitan Police, Criminal Investigation Department, New Scotland Yard, London. June 23, 1932.

Keaten, Arthur Lt. Investigation Report. R615. June 9, 1932.

Kennedy, Ludovic. The Airman and the Carpenter: The Lindbergh Kidnapping and the Framing of Bruno Richard Hauptmann. Viking, NY: 1985.

Milton, Joyce. Loss of Eden: A Biography of Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh. Harper Collins, NY: 1993.

Parliamentary Debates Official Report, House of Commons. 267 H.C. Deb. 5s.

Sharp, Emily. Statement. June 11, 1932.

Sharp, Violet. Statement. March 10, 1932.

-----. Statement. April 13, 1932.

-----. Statement. May 24, 1932.

-----. Death Certificate. June 10, 1932.

Whateley, Elsie Mary. Statement. March 10, 1932.

Whateley, Olly. Statement. March 3, 1932.

-----. Obituary. May 24, 1933.

A Horse Named "Trooper"

2007-02-01T09:16:00.000-05:00

At its inception, the primary responsibility of the New Jersey State Police was to patrol New Jersey's rural areas. In 1921, 61 horses were used by the State Police as they patrolled the farms and remote sections of the state.

Born in 1919, Trooper began his career with the New Jersey State Police in 1922, one of 10 horses purchased on March 27th from F.J. Leiwerling of Trenton for $175.

Initially Trooper assisted in the training of recruits at the State Police Academy at Wilburtha. Later, he was used to patrol country roads that were inaccessible to automobiles and motorcycles. He is shown in the photograph with Trooper Paul Verba#213 who rode him on patrol.

In 1933, all of the horses owned by the State Police were sold. Captain William J. Carter wanted to keep Trooper, however the orders of Superintendent Colonel H. Norman Schwarzkopf were that all of the horses must be sold.

Maurice R. Young, a businessman from Trenton, purchased Trooper at an auction and then presented the horse to Captain Carter and the troopers assigned to Troop "A" in south Jersey. Captain Carter and the troopers established a "pension fund" for Trooper and a corral and stables were built for him at the Hammonton Headquarters.

This arrangement lasted until 1943 when the death of Captain Carter and the enlistment into the armed forces of several of the troopers who had been contributing to the upkeep of Trooper made it impossible for the State Police to continue to give him proper care. Colonel Charles H. Schoeffel explained that since the horse was bought by Mr. Young, he was not legally the property of the State of New Jersey. Therefore, the State could not pay for his upkeep.

All was not lost for Trooper. In March 1943 Bobby Scott, a 10-year-old equine aficionado, read a newspaper article about "Trooper". He wrote the following letter to the men of Troop "A":

"Dear Troop A: "I was reading about ‘Trooper’ in the Sunday paper and I was wondering if you would like to have a good home for him. We have a pony 25 years old, so he would have company. We love horses and we would be good to him. After all these years of service, I think he deserves some fun. Please let me know and also the price you want for him. Yours Truly, Bobby Scott, Fallsington, PA."

When it came time to find a new home for Trooper later that year, the State Police remembered Bobby Scott’s letter and Trooper was given to him to care for. On December 11, 1943, Trooper was loaded in a van and transported to his new home. He lived happily on the farm until his death in May 1944.

In June 1944, the following letter was received at Troop "A" Headquarters from Bobby Scott:

"Dear Troop ‘A’:

"I am writing to let you know about good old Trooper. He has answered his last command. He passed away Saturday morning (May 27, 1944) about 5 A.M. to his last reward. And I know he has gone to Heaven. I could not make myself write before as it hurts just to think about his empty stall and bridle.

But Troop ‘A’ was so kind to give me Trooper Mother said I should let you know. He was fine on Friday night; he was begging for his sugar. I guess you all know how sweet he could beg by crossing his two front feet. I am glad Mother let me use my sugar stamp for lump sugar for Trooper as he was worth anything on earth.

Daddy had the Vet to come and file his teeth and he could eat very good. I think he always had a soft spot in his heart for New Jersey for when I would take him up for water he would stand and look over Jersey way. There was not a better horse living than Trooper as he was faithful, kind and loving and my how he enjoyed the rides we would take around the yard and in the field.

Gee, it’s no fun to come home from school now since Trooper is gone. But I guess the Lord knew his work was done on earth and took him home. I have lost the best friend I ever had except my Mother and Daddy.

"Mother took a picture of Trooper a week before he died and [he was] in the best of health.

"Well, Troop ‘A’, I want to thank you for the five months of pleasure I had with Trooper as he came to me just 4 days after my birthday.

"When I grow up I am going to be a State Trooper and have a black horse named Trooper. Well this will be all for now so will close sending love and regards.

Your Little Friend,
(s) Bobby Scott,
Emilea, Pa."