Going Above and Beyond with the Volunteers of Cowlitz County Search and Rescue

In the early 1900’s, the residents of Cowlitz County began to settle in and make Cowlitz County their home. Industry began to rise and generations of families started to firmly establish their roots through hard work and what we now affectionately refer to as, the daily grind.

The automobile was still new and exciting, allowing people to get out and recreate in places they otherwise didn’t have access to. They started to discover the beauty that Southwest Washington had to offer and individuals and families alike began to venture out for a much needed break from the everyday routine.

From swimming on a warm summer afternoon in the beautiful (yet cold) depths of Spirit Lake on the north side of Mt. St. Helens, to hiking in the uniqueness of the lava canyons outside of Cougar, there was plenty to do: snow skiing, exploring, fishing, and hunting. These new adventurists embraced these activities with a zest for life mixed with an ignorant passion that often times put them in situations that were dangerous and/or life threatening.

“People just don’t think.” A smiling Bob Reese comments while reflecting on his days with Lewis River Search and Rescue. “My father, Harry ‘H.L.’ Reese, moved up the Lewis River in 1933 and started the store (Reese’s Store) just west of Cougar. My father was active in the Boy Scouts in the Portland area and it continued when we moved here. We were all very active in Scouting and we all eventually became Eagle Scouts. This is where we learned how to build a fire, read a compass, first aid, and how to navigate through the woods.” Bob explained. “We really knew the area because we played in the caves and lava beds on the mountain all of our lives.”

With his brothers Bill and Leonard, Bob grew up in the shadow of Mt. St. Helens and was part of the Lewis River Search and Rescue team which was based at Reese’s Store. From the late 1930’s into the 1970’s, Reese’s Store was the hub of activity on the south side of Mt. St. Helens. If you planned to climb Mt. St. Helen’s, you stopped at Reese’s store to sign the climbers register. When you went hunting, you stopped at Reese’s store for coffee and an update on what was going on. So naturally, because of their outdoor skills and possibly the fact that they had the only telephone in the area for years, when someone needed help, they came to Reese’s Store to get Harry and his sons.

With their Boy Scout troop 348, known as “St. Helens Apes” because of their sponsor, the Reese’s would respond anytime someone needed help. Volunteering their time wasn’t necessarily something they thought about in those days. “It’s just what we did.” Bob reflects. “Volunteering is what the world is about and we had so many good, organized people around there it was really incredible.” The St. Helens Apes are best known for the caves that bear their name. The Scouts were believed to be the first to explore the caves at the base of Mt. St. Helens in the 1950’s, eventually becoming known as “The Ape Caves.”


But the Scouts weren’t alone. They often got help from the local foresters and loggers in the area who never hesitated to volunteer their time. “They were tough and strong.” Bob recounts, referring to the loggers. “With them, we rescued a lot of people from the caves and from the rivers. We would even climb trees to post warning signs for people to keep them out of certain sections of the river because we got tired of constantly rescuing them. We were busy every weekend.”

As rescues and recoveries go, Cowlitz County had its fair share and the volunteers managed to stay busy throughout the early 20th Century. In the early years, the Sheriff wasn’t always involved. A good deal of rescues and recoveries occurred with people simply going to Reese’s Store and the Reese brothers finding or helping them without the involvement of the Sheriff. “We had a sign across the road from the store that said ‘First Aid’ on it to let people know.” Leonard Reese explains over a cup of coffee in his home behind the original store. “Back then, everyone knew everyone and they all knew that my dad would do first aid whenever anyone needed it.” If the search or rescue mission warranted a phone call to the Sheriff’s Office, then they would make the call without hesitation.

On the north side of Mt. St. Helens the Longview Ski Club and Rob Quoidbach provided mountain rescue. “They had skills and resources that we didn’t have and they were around way before us.” Leonard explained. “We didn’t work with them much because we didn’t do much on the actual mountain. They dealt mainly with skiers and climbers. We dealt more with hunters and fisherman.”

Back then, like today, The Sheriff was ultimately responsible for all Search and Rescue missions within their jurisdiction. Being in charge of such an enormous task, it became evident early on that without the volunteers, the Sheriff’s Office could never do what it was legally bound to do when it came to Search and Rescue. Luckily there was no shortage of volunteers. Volunteering as a civic function really took off in the mid-1950’s in Cowlitz County with the establishment of the Cowlitz County Department of Civil Defense.

The Incorporation of Civil Defense


While outdoor recreation was growing in the 1950’s, so was the population. At the same time, the country was hiding in the newly established shadow of the emerging Cold War. Cowlitz County was hand-in-hand with the rest of the country horrified by the idea of an impending nuclear attack. To deal with the situation, The Cowlitz County Commissioners established the Office of Civil Defense on January 8th, 1956 and appointed Ed V. Berg as the acting director. Berg was responsible for developing a plan for dealing with various predictable emergencies.

In March of 1956, Berg published the Cowlitz County Civil Defense Plan which described that the Soviet Union had the capability of attacking the region with long range nuclear missiles but that Cowlitz County was not a likely target. The plan described that Cowlitz County’s main role would be to support the Portland and Puget Sound area evacuees if they were victims of a nuclear attack. The plan also outlined ways the community would deal with other emergencies like flooding.

The main threat to the Cowlitz County region was flood waters in the event that the Grand Coulee Dam was targeted and destroyed. According to a March 1956 Longview Daily News article, “Within 52 hours every living creature in Longview must be out of the city; or the rushing waters of the Columbia River will take away life.”

Watching the rivers and preparing for a disaster was an important role for Civil Defense in the early days with their small budget. Teaming up with the Army Corp of Engineers, Civil Defense made sure all the dikes were inspected and a close eye was kept out for rising flood waters. While not the true threat, the real fear continued to be of an all-out nuclear war. Fear not only from the impending nuclear attack, but also the fear of life after the attack. Unfortunately the public only knew what they were told by the government and the media and in Cowlitz County, it was no different.

The Daily News as well as the Oregonian and the Advocate published article after article about the threat of nuclear war. With headlines like, “Reds Have Mighty Force Ready”, “They’re at the Gate”, and my favorite, “Death Ray Next Weapon?”, the fear was a result of our own propaganda in an attempt to get people to act.

“The fear was very real.” Former Civil Defense Director Alan Slater describes. “I would go to meetings and my job was to explain to people how horrible nuclear war was going to be. But I wasn’t allowed to tell them that the County was going to help. I remember coming out of some meetings seeing women crying because they were scared and had no money to build the bomb shelters that the government was telling them that they needed to build. When I approached the County Commissioners about it, and describing what I felt were solutions, they disagreed and a short time later I was fired.”

The fallout shelter craze lasted into the early 1960’s when the public began to question the genuine need for such shelters and Civil Defense in general. People started to recognize the reality that if there was a full-scale nuclear war then a fallout shelter probably wouldn’t be much help.


Even with public opinion waning, the Department of Civil Defense pushed on. Recruiting was active and training was ongoing. At one point the Department of Civil Defense claimed to have over 10,000 volunteers locally available in case of an emergency. Schools practiced evacuation drills and nurses at the local hospitals were trained on the proper use of a Geiger Counters. Mass casualty exercises were held and volunteers were trained on everything from first aid to watching the sky for possible enemy aircraft.

“AIRCRAFT FLASH!” Bob Reese yells. “That’s what we would call out over the radio to stop all radio traffic. Then we would give our call sign of NECTAR BRAVO 30 to the Air Force base in Portland and then describe the aircraft flying over head.” Bob and Leonard explain. “It was our job to tell of any aircraft, all hours of the day. We would describe the plane, the direction of travel, whether they were flying high or low, number of engines, and anything else we noticed. We did it because we had a radio and a phone which most people didn’t have back then.”

Since communications were deemed essential, they became a big part of Civil Defense. Without communications, nothing could be done and the entire Civil Defense network would break down. Communication networks were established across the country. For Cowlitz County, the Lower Columbia Amateur Radio operators happily fulfilled that role. Thinking in a worst case scenario, if all communication devices were lost, Cowlitz County Civil Defense came up with a masterful plan: carrier pigeons.

In 1963, Cowlitz County Civil Defense was asked by the Washington State Civil Defense director, General E. M. Llewellyn, to set up a pilot program to augment the Civil Defense communications network with carrier pigeons. Dick Stephens of the Longview-Kelso Racing Pigeon Club came up with the idea following the breakdown in communications during the Columbus Day storm of 1962. The plan called for command posts to be set up at Ft. Columbia State Park and the Green Hill Academy for Boys near Chehalis.

The example for the use of pigeons was if an officer was out on a search or a rescue mission, outside the range of radios or if all communications were blocked or lost, then he would carry a pigeon with him. If a message needed to be sent, he would attach the message to the leg of the pigeon and release it. The pigeon would then return to its roost and the message would be retrieved and given to the Civil Defense Director. “Pigeons can withstand twice as much radiation as human beings.” Stephens pointed out in a Daily News article from 1963. “That already has been proven.”

In August of 1963, with the establishment of the statewide police teletype system, the pigeons were ceremonially released from Olympia when Governor Rossellini sent the first message to Cowlitz County. While the message from the governor was received immediately, the pigeons completed the trip in about 2 ½ hours. Unfortunately, the idea never really gained much momentum and the pigeon racing club continued with their hobby, unruffled.

Because the Civil Defense plans involved so many volunteers, it made sense to align Search and Rescue to Civil Defense for a more immediate, practical use of its resources. Civil Defense’s role wasn’t to run Search and Rescue missions, per se. Rather they were there to provide logistics and resources to the County or to the Search and Rescue teams whenever they were needed.

In 1961, the Sheriff’s Office started the Reserve Deputy program, which would initially become the Sheriff’s Office primary Search and Rescue group, and Bob Reese became a part of that. Assisting the Reserves was the Reese Brothers with their Boy Scout Troop and the St. Helen’s Apes – a group of loggers and foresters - which became Lewis River Search and Rescue in 1964.


“There was a genuine need for an organized Search and Rescue team so I went to the Civil Defense Director, Lois Faulkner, and got it set up.” Leonard explains. “Lois was great and got us anything we needed. She was a real people person not a paper person. She wasn’t concerned about politics or power, she knew how to work with the volunteers and that’s very important. Lois was able to get us some radios, a toboggan, and a jeep but for insurance purposes, we couldn’t drive it because we weren’t County employees.” Leonard chuckles.

Then in December of 1968, Tri-County Search and Rescue formed modeling their group after Lewis River Search and Rescue. They were called Tri-County because they represented Cowlitz, Wahkiakum, and Columbia Counties. Wahkiakum and Columbia Counties would later form their own teams and Tri-County Search and Rescue changed their name to Cowlitz County Search and Rescue which still exists today.

All of the groups would learn that cooperation and organization between each other was paramount. Even through the occasional personality clashes, the teams learned to work well together. Periodically, outside resources would be needed when things grew too large or certain skill sets weren’t available within the County. This held true for other counties as well. Requests would go out for additional resources from throughout the State whenever an agency felt as if their resources weren’t enough to accomplish the task. Organizing all of these outside resources, however, would prove to be challenging.

This need for organization between outside agencies was magnified with the disappearance of a small float plane on May 16, 1965, near Lake Wenatchee. On board the plane was Seattle City Councilman Wing Luke, the first Asian-American to be elected to public office in the State of Washington. Nearly a million dollars and thousands of man hours were spent on the search for the aircraft without success. According to the Mountain Rescue Associations newsletter from August 1965, “…a search was started and grew to become the most publicized and talked about air and ground hunt that probably ever ensued in this state.” Seattle Magazine called the search efforts “chaotic” while other criticized the search as “grossly inadequate.” It wasn’t until October 2, 1968, three years later, that the wreckage of the plane was finally spotted on the side of Merchant Peak in Snohomish County. There were no survivors.

Questions about who was responsible and why the wreckage wasn’t found sooner became hot topics within Search and Rescue. One of the main lessons learned from this search was the lack of coordination at the state level. As a result, this tragedy triggered the need to establish a State Search and Rescue Coordinator to oversee large search and rescue operations such as the Luke search. Soon thereafter, the Washington State Department of Emergency Services assistant director, Hal Foss, would be named as the State’s first official Search and Rescue Coordinator working under the Department of Civil Defense.

Today’s Search and Rescue

Lewis River Search and Rescue slowly slipped into history in the late 1970’s as its members got older and other resources began to emerge. While the eruption of Mt. St. Helens ended the need for mountain rescue on the north side of the mountain, it tested the wherewithal of Cowlitz Search and Rescue. Several of the people involved with the recoveries after the eruption are still with Search and Rescue today and tell stories of day after day of combing the mountain for victims.

“I hated recoveries.” Leonard Reese says quietly under his breath. “I don’t think that the volunteers should have to go through that. But, I understood that it had to be done.”

The Cowlitz County Sheriff’s Office still oversees all Search and Rescue missions within its jurisdiction and works closely with all the volunteer teams. After it was realized that the “Reds” weren’t coming after all, Civil Defense in its original configuration was no longer needed and quietly evolved into the Department of Emergency Management which continues to provide logistical support to Search and Rescue today.

What Leonard Reese established with Lewis River Search and Rescue is still going strong today through Cowlitz County Search and Rescue. The volunteering spirit is alive and well. Volunteers of all ages come out all hours of the day to help people they don’t even know. The Sheriff’s Reserves, Cowlitz Dive Rescue, The Civil Air Patrol, Lower Columbia Amateur Radio Operators, and the Coast Guard Auxiliary selflessly work together with Cowlitz Search and Rescue whenever the need arises.

Reese’s Store has long been closed yet the building still stands. Crumbling, dilapidated, still exuding the charm that it carried in its day. “That was my room there. Oh, and here’s the first chainsaw we ever had; it took three of us to run the darn thing.” Bob explains laughing. As I walk though the building with Bob Reese I can’t help but wonder what kind of stories this building could tell. Over all of the years, over all the fires built in the stove, what stories it could tell. This was home to not just the Reese family, but to the family of volunteers that risked their lives selflessly, over and over, so ”…that others may live.”

~DcU~

History Presentation

On Wednesday, May 5th at 1:30 in the afternoon, I'll be giving my "History of Law Enforcement in Cowlitz County" presentation at the Somerset Retirement facility located at 2025 Tibbetts Drive in Longview. It's free and the public is welcome to attend!

Understand his name to be Frank Dalton

Last year the Director of the Cowlitz County Historical Museum, David Freece, sent me a link to a wanted poster from 1921 that was up for bid on Ebay. The poster was for a man named Frank Dalton, wanted for murder in Cowlitz County by Sheriff John Hoggatt. After looking at the poster, I thought it might be an interesting piece of history so I bought it so I could donate it to the museum.

When it arrived, I was surprised at how small it was. I was expecting a large WANTED "poster". But as I held the 6"x9" yellowing paper, turning it around, looking at the hand written "$1000 Reward" at the top, I became intrigued and began to wonder who Frank Dalton was and what exactly did he do?

So I began to dig with nothing more than the information on the poster. Initially I found nothing. By chance, while at the State Archives looking into a case of an individual suing Pacific County for allowing the jailers to let a vigilanty group tar and feather him, I came across what I was looking for in a misplaced Coroners Inquest. It was then that the story began to unfold.

“Understand his name to be Frank Dalton”

In the afternoon of March 20th, 1921, Earle Bryant went to the Whalen ranch about three and half miles south of Woodland to check on his friend and fellow farmer Michael P. Whalen. Bryant hadn’t seen Whalen since March 12th and was concerned about his well being. When he arrived, with five small children in tow, he looked through the window and saw Whalen laying face down on the floor, obviously dead. Bryant tried the door but it was locked, so he immediately went to the nearest farm to summon help. When he arrived at the farm of Archie Lee Lewis, Lewis’ brother was just leaving for Kalama. Bryant explained what he found and asked Lewis’ brother to notify the Sheriff and the Coroner while in Kalama. Meanwhile, Archie retrieved two horses from his barn and he and Bryant set back out for Whalen’s home.

When they arrived back at the Whalen ranch, they looked through the windows and could see that Whalen had apparently been murdered and his body dragged from the living room to the bedroom. Sheriff John Hoggatt arrived after dark along with the Coroner, W.G. Johnson, and the Woodland Night Marshal, Robert “Bob” Robbins. Looking over the horrific scene, they discovered that it was obvious a murder had been committed and there had been a blatant attempt to cover up the crime. A towel used to clean up the blood was in the fireplace, unburned, and ashes had been dumped on the floor in an effort to cover up what blood remained.

Michael Whalen was lying face down on the floor, partially hidden under a bed with his reading glasses still attached to his head. There were two large gashes on his head each measuring about nine inches long. Originally thought to be the result of an axe, the investigators found a piece of hexagon shaped pinch iron about 30 inches long leaning against the wall that was seemed to have been used to commit the crime. Hanging behind the stove were freshly washed clothes that were completely dry. In the barn, Bob Robbins found that one of the horses was untied and hadn’t been fed or watered for some time.

According to Bryant during the Coroners Inquest, the 74 year old Whalen was a creature of habit and went to bed religiously at eight o’clock every evening. Prior to going to bed, he enjoyed sitting in his chair in front of the fireplace reading. It was believed that, while sitting in the chair, Whalen removed his shoes and was getting ready to read when the first devastating blow crushed into the back of his head. It was surmised that he then went to the floor when the second blow was directed to the front of the head. Upon inspecting the body during the autopsy, Dr. C.J. Hoffman in the Coroners Inquest stated, “Either one would have been sufficient to cause instant death.” Now Sheriff Hoggatt was faced with two questions. Why was Michael Whalen killed and more importantly, who did it.

On Wednesday March 23rd, 1921, The Lewis River News ran the headline:

“MICHAEL P. WHALEN CRUELLY MURDERED”

The paper detailed Earl Bryant’s discovery and went on to speculate, “… Mr. Whalen was killed thru revenge by an unknown assassin or was slain by the man who had been working for him since January 13...”

In his testimony during the Coroners Inquest, Robbins stated that he had gone to Whalen’s residence on March 13th to see about “some stock and horses” and that Whalen was alive at that time. Robbins said, “There was a man with him, a stranger to me. I talked with him and from the way he talked, he was working there. Mr. Whalen didn’t tell me so, he said “My man”. … This man was out on the porch doing some washing.” When asked if the man was still there, Robbins said that he wasn’t.

Glen Bozarth testified that he had gone to the Whalen ranch on Monday the 14th to see Whalen about “pasturing his stock”. Bozarth said that he knocked on the door and that there was no response. He said he looked all around and waited and hour and a half but nobody showed up. He then described going into the barn and seeing that one of the horses was un-tied. When asked about the man staying with Whalen, Bozarth said that he met him but didn’t know anything about him other than, “Understand his name to be Frank Dalton.”

After Whalen’s murder, Frank Dalton vanished from Cowlitz County. Strangely enough, Whalen had money in his pockets at the time of his death and nothing appeared to be missing from Whalen’s home. So, theft did not appear to be a motive.

During the course of the investigation, Sheriff Hoggatt discovered that Dalton had come from Australia. Dalton had obtained a passport in Portland Oregon (no. 5783 on March 17th, 1921) and was believed to be heading back to Australia to avoid his inevitable capture. It was also discovered that Dalton had several aliases that he went by to include Frank Carlton and Charles Murphy. Wanted posters were quickly produced and distributed in an attempt to capture the alleged murderer before he left the country. Sheriff Hoggatt was able to contact the South Australian Police where he found out there was actually more to the story of Frank Dalton.

According to the Australian authorities, Dalton went by the name Edward Francis Dalton and married a woman named Mary Ann Crisp on November 16th 1912. Frank and Mary had two kids, William Francis Dalton and George Arthur Gordon Dalton. Dalton’s enlistment into the Australian Army and subsequent deployment to Europe on board the HMAT A20 Hororata on April 20th, 1915, was the last time the family saw their father.

A Special Inquiry ran in the South Australian Police Gazette on June 8th, 1921:

SPECIAL INQUIRY – MURDER
“Special Inquiry is requested to locate one FRANK DALTON (correct name EDWARD FRANCIS DALTON, alias FRANK CARLTON, alias CHARLES MURPHY), who is wanted by Sheriff J.W. Hoggatt, Cowlitz County, Kalama, Washington, U.S.A., for murder. Description: - 33 years of age, 178 lbs. weight, 5ft. 11 ½ in. high, dark complexion, dark hair, hazel eyes. He enlisted at Adelaide, on February 2nd, 1915, and embarked for active service abroad on April 20th of the same year, being attached to the 10th Infantry Battalion. He was subsequently transferred from the battalion in France to the Anzac Provost Police Corps, England, and later promoted to the rank of corporal, but on October 24th, 1918, was reported as an illegal absentee, and has not since been heard of by the military authorities.… A reward of one thousand dollars is offered for his arrest. If located in South Australia, keep under surveillance, and communicate with Detective Office, Adelaide, where his photograph is filed.”

After the murder of Michael Whalen, Dalton made his way to Seattle and started a new family. He changed his name to Everett Frank Lindsay and married a woman named Elizabeth Reid, a nurse from Vancouver on November 29th, 1921. For the next 10 years, he would lay pretty low. The couple adopted two young girls (Pearl and Helen) and Lindsay became a respected citizen working as a plumber.

In February of 1930, Elizabeth disappeared and Lindsay explained that she had gone to Canada for a visit. Nobody questioned this until six weeks later when Lindsay moved him and the two girls into an apartment. One day, Helen came home from school to find the apartment vacated. She spoke to the authorities and an immediate search for Lindsay and Pearl began.

Authorities went back to Lindsay’s previous home and Elizabeth’s body was found in a shallow grave in the back yard. Her head had been bludgeoned and her throat slit. In the days that followed, the man hunt for Lindsay extended the entire west coast.

In May of 1930, Pearl was found abandoned at a boarding house in Oakland California. King County investigators were immediately sent to California to retrieve Pearl. Devastated at the news of her mothers murder, Pearl explained how her father changed after her mother disappeared. She described to detectives how she saw her father digging a hole in the back yard of their west Seattle home and that her father told her that he was going to be burying a horse. Elizabeth’s body was found in the same hole. At that point, Lindsay was not only suspected of killing his wife Elizabeth, but he was also suspected of raping Pearl and would become the suspect in the rape of two other young girls. If that wasn’t enough, he would become the main suspect in the murder of another woman in southern California.

By this time, Lindsay had been connected as being Frank Dalton, the murderer of Michael Whalen in Woodland 10 years earlier. The South Australian Police were again contacted and they ran another Special Inquiry in the South Australian Police Gazette on July 2nd, 1930:

MURDER – SPECIAL INQUIRY

U.S.A – Special Inquiry is requested with a view to locating EVERETT FRANK LINDSAY, alias JACK GRANT, alias FRANK GRANT, alias HYDEMAN, alias FRANK EVERETT, alias FRANK LYNDSAY, who is wanted by Sheriff Claude G. Bannick, Seattle Washington, for the brutal murder of his wife, having crushed her skull, cut her throat, and buried her in the back yard of their home at Seattle; and for the rape of three girls of tender years. … New England accent, brown eyes, dark brown hair (tinged with grey), dark sallow complexion, clean shave, deep cleft in chin, small scar on left side of nose or face, poor teeth, probably small partial plate in front, a heavy drinker, and associates with women of loose virtue….

The story of Everett Lindsay began appearing in newspapers throughout the pacific states and as far east as Chicago. Articles ran in the southern California newspapers with pictures of Lindsay as well. September 3rd, 1931, The Los Angeles Times reported:

“LINDSAY HUNT IN CITY FAILS”

“Many reports run down in search for killer. Though more than a dozen citizens, after seeing his picture in The Times yesterday morning, telephoned police that they had seen Everett Frank Lindsay in various parts of the city, police scouted the supposition that the man, wanted for the brutal murder of his wife.”

Reports and sightings of Lindsay began pouring in. Police continued their search throughout the city and were able to confirm that he was, in fact, living in the Los Angeles area. An amateur detective and restaurant owner in Los Angeles picked up a detective magazine and read a profile of Lindsay recognizing him as a former cook in his restaurant. Intrigued by the $3000 reward for his arrest, he decided to re-acquaint himself with Lindsay and was able to get Lindsay to hold on to a postcard capturing his fingerprints. The postcard was turned over to police detectives and he was confirmed to be Everett Frank Lindsay. Lindsay was captured on October 15th, 1931.

The October 16th, 1931, Ellensburg Daily Record from the AP wire reported:

“LINDSAY HUNTED SINCE 1930 TRAPPED IN SOUTH”
“Man wanted for murder of wife in Seattle is captured in Los Angeles… for more than a year and a half police throughout the pacific states have been on the trail of Lindsay, whose christened name is said to be Charles E. Murphy. His trail extended from Seattle to Los Angeles.”

“…last September Lindsay brought an 11 year old girl from Napa to Los Angeles. She told a revolting story of what Lindsay had done to her. An intensive search for the man was conducted here and numerous crimes were attributed to him. Lindsay was also wanted for the murder of a farmer near Woodland Washington 10 years ago.”

While in custody in Los Angeles, Detectives grilled Lindsay in an attempt to get him to confess to several unsolved local murders and other crimes. He confessed to killing his wife but refused to admit to any other crimes. According to one newspaper, Lindsay stated, “The coppers are trying to pin a lot of crimes on me. But if I swing it will be for the killing of my wife. I’ve got plenty of alibis for the other killings they are trying to connect me with.”

The Los Angeles Times reported that Lindsay was to be flown back to Seattle to stand trial for the murders of his wife Elizabeth Lindsay and farmer Michael Whalen in Woodland Washington. In October, 1931 Lindsay was sent back to Seattle with two King County Sheriff’s Deputies who were sent to Los Angeles immediately upon word of his arrest.

In December of 1931, Lindsay’s trial for the murder of his wife began in Seattle. He pled “not-guilty” and claimed that he was driven to kill his wife out of self defense but continued to deny his involvement with any other crimes. According to Lindsay, he had been the victim of constant “nagging” by his wife throughout their entire time together.

On December 15th, 1931, the jury was selected and the defense was able to exclude all women out of fear of exposing them to the unspeakable testimony that was expected during the course of the trial. They also didn’t feel that Lindsay would get a fair trial if a woman was on the jury. On December 18th, Lindsay unexpectedly took the stand. As reported in the Ellensburg Daily Record from the AP wire:

“As the prisoner stammered and struggled through his story, women in the audience wept and men sniffled while the jurors looked away from the shaken figure on the witness stand.

Leading up to the day of the killing, Lindsay told of long years of nagging by his wife and their numerous quarrels. He said that on the morning he killed her, he got up, cooked breakfast for the two girls, Helen Mcomber and Pearl Lindsay, both 13, the latter an adopted daughter, ate with them and sent them off to school. He told of then cooking breakfast for Mrs. Lindsay, taking it to her in bed, during which time she was “nagging” at him.

“I was kneeling on the bathroom floor while she was eating,” the prisoner said.

“She got up, went out and got herself two slices of bread and another cup of coffee. When she came back, I saw she had a butcher knife with a piece of butter on it.”

Lindsay stopped in his testimony and buried his face in his hands while his shoulder shook as he burst out sobbing. For more than a minute he sat, weeping until prompted by his attorney: “Then what happened, Mr. Lindsay?”

There was no answer and several women in the audience began weeping and the jurors looked away. The question was repeated and after some moments, Lindsay stammered:

“She continued the argument-then she threw coffee in my face-my eyes-I wiped my eyes, got up off my knees-I saw she was striking at me with the knife-I had a hammer in my hand-"

He paused, choked, then continued: “I remember-I remember striking her-struck her with the hammer. I can’t remember any more until I came to my senses-saw her on the floor. I tried to-I tried to-"

“Speak louder, Mr. Lindsay”, Judge Howard M. Findley directed.

“I tried to call her-wake her up-didn’t get no answer-then I realized she was dead.”

Originally charged with 1st Degree Murder with the hopes for the death penalty, Everett Frank Lindsay was ultimately convicted of 2nd Degree Murder in the death of his wife, Elizabeth Lindsay. He was sentenced to 60-75 years in the state penitentiary. It doesn’t appear as though he was ever tried in the case of Michael Whalen or any of the rapes that he was alleged to have committed and a motive for the killings may never be known.

Lindsay began his troubled life as a teenager in Cambridge Massachusetts and fled after being the suspect in a burglary. For the next 30 years, he was able to elude authorities and commit a multitude of crimes, many of which we may never know about. He was able to spend time in both the Australian Army and the U.S. Army before going A.W.O.L. (absent without leave) from both. And, he not only married a woman in Australia and Seattle, but he also had reportedly married another woman in Sacramento and was never divorced from any of them.

~DcU

You Can’t Beat the Rap

Murderer, rapist, burglar, bigot, and con-artist are all titles that Everett Frank Lindsay carried to his grave. But the local search for Lindsay (then known as Frank Dalton in Cowlitz County in 1921) was about to be disrupted by another con-artist, Roy Gardner, known nationally as “The Smiling Bandit”.


The Smiling Bandit

Roy Gardner was known throughout the United States in 1921 as “The Smiling Bandit” and “The King of Escape Artists”. He was quick with a gun but claimed never to have hurt anyone. He was arrested multiple times for robbery and theft throughout his colorful criminal career and he believed that no prison could hold him.

Gardner’s first escape came in 1906 when he was arrested in Mexico for selling guns to the rebels attempting to overthrow the Mexican government. Thrown into solitary confinement, he made his break one day while the guard was serving him breakfast. An “armed to the teeth” posse was sent out for Gardner, but he vanished like a ghost and ended up back in the United States.

In 1910, Gardner was arrested after robbing a Jewelry store in San Francisco and was sentenced to five years at San Quentin. During a violent prison riot, Gardner managed to save the life of a guard and as a reward, was paroled early in 1913. Gardner ended up back in custody after holding up a mail truck in 1920 by shoving a gun in the stomach of the driver as he pulled away from the depot. He was sentenced to 25 years at McNeil Island and while en-route to the prison, he managed to escape on June 5th, 1920 outside of Portland Oregon.

After spending some time in Canada, Gardner made his way back into the United States. He worked a short time as a salesman before the urge to rob the mail car of a train he was riding overcame him. Posses were sent after Gardner and he managed to slip through them like a phantom. Police began monitoring the phone calls to his wife, Dolly, in an attempt to locate Gardner. Through the phone calls, they discovered Gardner in California in May of 1921 but were unable to capture him.

On the night of May 19th, 1921, Gardner held up another train and robbed it of two mail sacks. Wanted posters were posted throughout California. Gardner was eventually captured again and was sentenced to an additional 25 years at McNeil Island.

U.S. Marshal Thomas F. Mulhall and Federal Guard D.W. Rinckle were tasked with transporting Roy Gardner on the 158 N.P. Owl Train to McNeil Island to serve out his two 25 year sentences. The guards also had a convicted counterfeiter, Norris Pyron sentenced to 13 years, in their custody as well. Shortly after leaving the station in Portland, the guards were preparing their prisoners for bed when Gardner told the officers that he wanted to use the washroom. With Norris Pyron already in his bunk in leg irons, Mulhall escorted Gardner into the washroom. Having a gun concealed in his undershirt, Gardner spun around and presented the gun on Mulhall.

In a statement to the press, Mulhall said:

“Gardner asked to wash his hands and we took him to a basin in our drawing room. He was leaning over the basin. I was standing right in back of him. Quick as lightning he swung around. He had whipped out a pistol from beneath his clothing and had me covered.... Rinckle made a rush at him, but Gardner was too quick. With the cleverest move I ever saw, he got my gun and backed into a corner, where he could cover us both and be safe from attack. Pyron jumped down from his berth to the floor and Gardner told him search us for keys. He found them in the first pocket he went into and freed himself and then Gardner. Gardner took off the Oregon boot, covering us all the time with both guns. He then told Pyron to handcuff us. This Pyron did, putting us face-to-face, and then he clinched the handcuffs very tight. ...he made me sit on the edge of the berth. Another part was fastened to some pipes so that we were handcuffed, booted and chained to the car.”

When Mulhall complained about the Oregon boot hurting his leg, Gardner agreed to not put it on him if they (the guards) would agree to give him a 20 minute head start before they started the search for him.

Gardner and Pyron then stole $200 from the wallets of Mulhall and Rinckle. While the bandits rifled through their wallets, the guards attempted to make small talk with Gardner and Pyron trying to keep things calm. According to the guards, Gardner was cool and collected while Pyron was very excited and nervous.

Gardner pulled the shades down on the windows as the train approached the Castle Rock Depot to fill up with more water. Mulhall told Gardner that if he took all his money, they wouldn’t be able to buy breakfast. Gardner then tossed Mulhall $5 and climbed out the window with Pyron close behind. Gardner later stated, “I didn’t put the leg irons on the two guards because they promised to give us twenty minutes’ start before they said anything. They broke their word--and I’m through with them.”

Armed and Dangerous

Word of the escape spread like wildfire. Sheriff Hoggatt (pictured right) was contacted and a large number of deputies and posse members converged on Castle Rock. The Sheriff ordered all exit points in town be covered to include every road, bridge, or any other means of escape. Gardner was considered “armed and dangerous”. U.S. Marshal J.B. Holohan and three postal inspectors (G.H. Austin, George E. Lewis, and C.W. Linebaugh) are immediately sent to Castle Rock to take charge of the search effort.

The San Francisco Bulletin ran the following story on Saturday, June 11th, 1921:

AIRMEN TRAIL GARDNER
“Airplanes of the United States Army, Navy, and Forest Patrol Service, equipped to hurl poison gas bombs and with machine guns, were ordered out at noon today in the hunt for Roy Gardner, mail train bandit, who escaped last night at Castle Rock, Wash., from two Federal deputy marshals whom he covered with a gun, handcuffed and robbed of $200 while the train on which they were taking him to McNeill’s Island to serve a 25 year sentence for robbery was stopped at the station. Norris H. Pyron, alias J.A. Bell, of Dunsmuir, convicted counterfeiter, escaped with Gardner.

United States Marshal James Holohan is determined to throw in every resource within his power in a mighty effort to run Gardner to earth within the next 24 hours. The man hunt now is on from land and sky, heavily armed posses scouring the hills and woods below, keen-eyed aviators watching from aloft for a trace of Gardner, today one of the most dramatic crime figures the West has ever known. …Gardner’s escape last night was one of the most sensational and dramatic in the annals of crime.”

Because he was considered armed and dangerous, the posse was heavily armed as well. Another newspaper wrote that the city was, “…a veritable armed camp Sunday night and Monday. Men armed with shotguns, rifles, and guns of every description were seen on every corner coming and going.”

Once off the train, Gardner and Pyron split. Gardner stayed in the Castle Rock area while Pyron headed south. Making his way to the “Stock place” Saturday afternoon, he paid fifty cents for lunch and then spent the night in the barn. Around 7:30 Sunday morning, according to Pyron, he left and headed into Kelso. Around noon, he made his way to the Liberty Restaurant where he sat and ate lunch. After eating, he went into Joe Sweeny’s place and bought a cigar and an Oregonian. Feeling the heat of the manhunt, Pyron decided to head back north out of town.

News of Pyron staying at the Stock place came in and a posse with Marshals C.E. Rankin and Charles Palmer, T.T. Fannon and a number of other volunteers headed up to the Rocky Point area and started south. A short distance outside of Kelso, Pyron was actually spotted by Roy Carroll and was initially thought to be Gardner. W.A. Pratt (pictured right) with Marshal Palmer and T.H. Foster were asked to assist and they headed north from the Crescent Shingle Mill. Checking along the side of some railroad cars, Pratt noticed some tracks leading up the hillside. Pratt signaled back to Palmer and Foster and they climbed on top of a rail car to get a better view while Pratt followed the tracks. At the top of the hill, Pratt encountered Pyron in the bushes where he immediately gave up. Pyron told how he was forced to escape by Gardner and that he was terrified of him. Pyron was taken to the jail in Kalama, interviewed, then put on a train bound for McNeil Island.

Meanwhile, Gardner laid low around Castle Rock. After splitting from Pyron, Gardner ran south on the railroad tracks, crawled under some box cars on the other set of tracks and then jumped into the brush. He made his way down a dark ravine and settled in behind the Dan Hummel home about ¼ mile east of Castle Rock where he stayed until early Tuesday morning (June 14th). Feeling the pangs of hunger, Gardner came up out of the ravine and stole four chickens and some onions from Hummel’s place. He cooked the chickens on a fire but got nervous with the thought of someone seeing the smoke so he decided to quickly put it out.

While the posse worked their way through the brush and following every tip that came in, to include the smoke, they actually found the small camp that Gardner had made. They found remnants of a fire, half eaten onions and under cooked chicken torn apart and partially eaten.

Gardner never moved very far way. He managed to stay just out of reach of the posse for the next couple days. He claimed that he watched the posse moving around and said that at one point, they were no more than 20 feet away. He said he recognized a couple of the Federal posse members and could hear them talking as they went by.

Getting bored and hungry, Gardner decided to head to town. Around 3:00 in the morning on Tuesday, he walked through downtown Castle Rock to the Cowlitz River where he built a fire and tried to dry out his clothes until about 6:00 in the morning. Getting hungry, Gardner decided to take a chance.

With the manhunt still in full swing, and wearing the same dirty clothes that he had on when he made his escape, Gardner approached Henry Wend on the south end of town while Wend was milking one of his cows. Gardner asked Wend if there was a grocery nearby. Wend looked over his shoulder and noticed the disheveled Gardner and told him that the nearest one would be in town. Gardner left and headed towards town while Wend continued to milk his cow. Suddenly it dawned on Wend that the stranger that just approached him might have been Roy Gardner. Wend decided to head to town to find him again.

Gardner walked into town and found the Royal Restaurant where he went in and ordered ham, eggs, and mush. His mush just being set down, Gardner took one bite and looked out the window to see Henry Wend walking past. At the same moment, Wend looked inside the restaurant and noticed Gardner. Wend walked past the window then decided to turn around and walk past the window again. Gardner saw him a second time, stood up and ran out the door. Gardner later said in an interview, “No sooner had my order been taken than the same man came up and peered through the window. Right then I decided it was time to go. I knew my mug had been posted all about the country and was known. I ran through the town to the rock and hid.”

Witnesses say Gardner turned the corner and headed south towards Frank Wolfe’s residence. He turned into the school yard and then ran back onto the road towards the Rock and then disappeared.

The alarm went out that Gardner was seen in town. Word reached Sheriff Hoggatt in Kalama and the posse in Kelso was dispatched towards Castle Rock. Five carloads of deputies were sent. Castle Rock Town Marshal and Deputy, Clarence “Humpy” Dunbar (pictured left) is immediately summoned and put together a hastily formed posse and they set out for Gardner.

Dunbar and his posse searched as far as Ostrander but found no trace of him. The assumption was made that he was hiding somewhere near the Rock so Dunbar’s posse turned around and went back to Castle Rock and surrounded the Rock.

By 10:00 in the morning, the Sheriff and his posse, U.S. Marshals, Railroad detectives, and a search team from Clark County all arrived in Castle Rock. Along with the searchers, truck loads of newspapermen began arriving and literally lined the streets. Newspapers across the country ran the headlines that Gardner is seen in Castle Rock and “sightings” of Gardner began to roll in. At one point, the posse was directed across the river to a potential sighting that proved to be a false alarm.

Each train that rolled into town was thoroughly searched by the posse. They would begin at the front of the train and would go completely through it until they were satisfied that Gardner was not on it.

The posse scoured the rock. They combed the island and the brush north and south of the highway and found no sign of Gardner. But, Gardner never ventured far. He stayed just across the highway and watched the posse search for him. He claimed that it was the most miserable day of his life and that he would rather spend time in prison than go through that day again. The rain poured down in torrents and not getting to finish his meal, Gardner could do little more than think about eating. Wet, cold, and starving, he waited.

The search continued through the wet, miserable day. Around 10:00 that evening, Gardner had had enough. He decided that he needed to make a break for it. After watching the posse and how they checked each train, he moved from his hiding place and made his way across the highway. He circled back around the north side of town to the train depot and waited for the next train to arrive.

Shortly thereafter, a freight train arrived with a large cow catcher on the front. The train rolled to a stop and Gardner watched through the windows of the train depot as the engineer dismounted and began to walk around the train. As soon as the posse and the engineer move toward the back of the train, Gardner moved up and climbed up on the cow catcher. The train departed and Gardner safely made his way out of Castle Rock.

Captured

With no success finding Gardner, the search began to wind down. On June 18th, 1921, word came down that Gardner was captured in Centralia at the Oxford Hotel by Centralia Policeman Louis Sonney.

Gardner eventually made it to McNeil Island only to escape on September 5th, 1921 during a prison softball game. On November 15th, a mail clerk was accosted by Gardner brandishing a gun but the clerk fought back and held Gardner until the police arrived. In court, Gardner was sentenced to another 25 years in prison and this time was sent to Leavenworth Kansas.

Gardner made several more escape attempts but all failed. He was eventually sent to prison in Atlanta and ended up finishing his prison time in Alcatraz where he was finally paroled in 1938.

Officer Louis Sonney of the Centralia Police Department became famous as “the man who captured Roy Gardner”. Jumping on this new found fame, Sonney went on the Vaudeville circuit pitching his “Crime Doesn’t Pay” show and demonstrated before the awe inspired crowds his handcuffing prowess while reliving the story of the capture of Roy Gardner.

Soon after, Louis Sonney discovered motion pictures and decided to make a movie about the capture of Roy Gardner. So in 1924, Sonney’s newly formed production company shot on location around Kelso, Castle Rock, Centralia, and McNeil Island. They re-formed part of the posse and they played themselves in the movie, “Roy Gardner, Notorious Bandit”. The movie was filmed in all of the locations that the search happened. When finished, it was shown at Castle Rock’s Dreamland Theatre.

Sonney stayed in contact with Gardner and ended up forming a close relationship with him. Sending him $10 each month while in prison, Sonney worked tirelessly to get Gardner out of prison. When Gardner was finally paroled, Louis Sonney was the only person standing outside the gates to greet him. Sonney had Gardner work for him for a short time and convinced Gardner to star in a movie titled, “You Can’t Beat the Rap”. In the movie, Sonney and Gardner played themselves and they recreated the great capture of Gardner in the hotel room in Centralia.

In 1940, tired and unable to keep a job, Roy Gardner committed suicide by gassing himself using cyanide tablets dropped in acid. His body was found in the bathroom of his hotel room by a housekeeper in the run down hotel he was staying in. He was 56 years old.

~ DcU

The Elephant, the Photographer, and the Sheriff

Sitting in the desk of a good friend of mine at the Cowlitz County Sheriff’s Office, (Detective Marc Gilchrist) is a postcard that his sister found on a postcard rack in Germany while on vacation in Europe. Heather (Gilchrist) Hunt was looking for a post card to send home to her mother. Suddenly one caught her eye. In the picture lies a large elephant in the middle of the road. In the lower right corner of the picture there is, what appears to be, a Cowlitz County Sheriff’s Office patrol car. Heather immediately recognizes the picture and coincidently knew the story behind it.

The postcard itself may be peculiar enough, like something you would find in a gag-gift store like Spencer’s Gifts, but what’s even more peculiar is the story behind the postcard. On this one day in June of 1979, three worlds intersected in Cowlitz County; a renegade elephant, a world class photographer, and the Cowlitz County Sheriff’s Office.

Tuesday June 26th, 1979 – 11:00 P.M.

Deputies Dan Sheridan (pictured left in 1986) and Brad Bright are on patrol, graveyard; A typical evening with nothing spectacular going on. While enjoying a cup of coffee with their fellow team members, they receive a call for a welfare check on a gentleman named Morgan Berry. The caller is Morgan Berry’s son, Ken Berry, who says that he is unable to get in touch with his father who has been having heart problems. Ken says he calls his father every evening to check up on him around 9 P.M. but on this particular evening, there is no answer.

It’s around 11:00 p.m. and the deputies drive out to check on Mr. Berry. When they arrive, they are met by a neighbor who is also concerned. They knock on the door. No answer. They notice the door is open, so they go inside and check throughout the house but find no sign of Berry. They go around back and are startled to find a large elephant chained to a tree, rocking back and forth acting very strange. They call out for Mr. Berry, but there is no response.

Being careful to keep their distance from the chained, angry, elephant, the Deputies check all around the property and cannot find Morgan anywhere. They decide to drive around the area in an attempt to find Berry but find nothing. Assuming he left, they decide to come back in the morning.

Morgan Berry – Elephant Trainer

In 1965, Morgan Berry moved to the 75 acre farm south of Kalama. The farm contained nine elephants and two wolves. An experienced elephant trainer, Berry came to Kalama after spending time as a keeper with the Woodland Park Zoo. In all, he had 38 years as an animal trainer and dealer. He became world famous for being the first person to breed elephants in the western hemisphere in 40 plus years and it was his elephants that gave birth to “Packy” at the Oregon Zoo (pictured right with Berry in white shirt).

A year prior to this event, in 1978, Berry’s partner Eloise Berchtold, was killed by an elephant while performing with a circus in Quebec Canada. The elephant, Teak, had been trained by Berry and Berchtold on the farm in Cowlitz County. Teak was immediately killed by the veterinarian at the circus. During the fracas, another elephant, Thai, had escaped from the circus and Berry was flown in by helicopter to help capture the frightened animal. Riding around in a patrol car, they were able to find Thai hiding in the bushes. Berry walked into the bushes and came out with Thai, without incident.

Wednesday June 27th, 1979 – 5:00 A.M.

Ken Berry is still concerned about his father so he makes his way to the farm in the early morning hours of June 27th. When he arrives, the sun is just coming up and he finds the elephant, Tonga, still chained to the tree. He also notices his father’s shirt near Tonga. While still searching for his father, Ken notices that one of the other elephants has escaped. Thai was missing, again.

Berry calls the Sheriff’s Office and reports that there is an elephant loose. Dan Sheridan and Brad Bright immediately head back out to the property and meet up with Ken. Ken describes what he knows and then they all start the search for Thai.

Sheridan describes the events as almost being surreal. He drives around a corner and sees an enormous pile of dung in the middle of the roadway and literally says, “Oh shit.” A little past the pile he sees Thai standing in the roadway. Bright pulls up behind Sheridan and they begin to try to coax the animal back towards the property. Sheridan hits his siren and lights off and on trying to move the startled pachyderm. As Thai backs up, he suddenly decides he’s had enough, and starts to run straight at the deputy’s vehicles.

Sheridan and Bright quickly throw their vehicles in reverse and start backing up furiously trying to get out of the way of the charging bull elephant. As they are backing up, they are turning to their left going down the hill when Sheridan notices that the elephant has gone off the roadway, through a garden on a neighboring property, and disappeared.

They stop and quickly exit their vehicles. Sheridan grabs his shotgun and starts into the brush after Thai. Ken Berry arrives about the same time and tells Sheridan, “I hope you have slugs in that shotgun.”

As they search the brush, it becomes evident that Thai must have fallen off the embankment, but they can’t find him. They can hear him, but they can’t see him. They decide to back out and call in reinforcements.

Are You Kidding Me?

Thai the elephant is loose, his trainer is missing, and there is an angry elephant named Tonga chained to a tree. This is not the way most deputies like to spend the end of their shift. Trying to figure out what to do next, Deputies Sheridan and Bright along with Ken Berry decide they better call for help.

One of Sheridan’s first phone calls is to the Undersheriff Bob Swanson. Swanson responds with, “Are you kidding me?”

Calls go out to Ron Cram (a Longview Police Officer) and Dan Bender (a Deputy Sheriff) who are both known to be big game hunters and each have large rifles if they need to dispatch the animal. The Oregon Zoo and the Woodland Park Zoo and notified and immediately send personnel to the scene. Other deputies begin to arrive to assist while on-lookers begin mobbing the bizarre situation.

Thai is quickly found on the main road and is obviously exhausted, hurt, and confused. As the day progresses, several attempts to coral the elephant are unsuccessful. A Zoo staffer is finally able to tranquilize the animal and Thai goes down in the middle of the road.

Exhausted and overheating, Zoo staffers quickly ask for water to start tying to cool Thai down while they figure out how to get him back to the farm. Hours go by before they are finally able to get Thai up and back to the property.

In the meantime, Tonga (pictured right) is still chained to the tree and is not happy. Ken Berry quickly realizes that the shirt near Tonga is actually his father, trampled into the ground. Ken and the concerned neighbor make several attempts to get to his father while they watch Tonga pick up and toss the mangled body. Each time they try to get to Morgan, Tonga charges at them (probably trying to protect him).

As the events of the day play out, Sheridan and Bright are sent home and other deputies arrive to help with the scene. A small crowd of people show up and watch in amazement not quite sure what to think of the situation. Amongst the crowd is a photographer who snapped a picture.

On this one day in June, at this one moment in time, Joel Sternfeld just happened to be in Cowlitz County. What he captured was something that he has titled, “Exhausted Renegade Elephant”. The photograph and subsequent postcards have been sold and displayed around the world.

Joel Sternfeld – Photographer

In the late 1970’s, a photographer named Joel Sternfeld was making his way around the western United States in his Volkswagen bus taking pictures. Using a large format 8x10 view camera, Sternfeld was trying to document “site-specific landscapes somehow connected to human presence”.

Joel went on to become a world-renown photographer and has been honored for his work with color photography. He is known as helping to establish color photography as a respected artistic medium. Several books of his work have been published and his work is featured at the Museum of Contemporary Photography amongst other places.

The Columbia College Museum of Contemporary Photography describes Joel this way:

“Joel Sternfeld's projects can perhaps be divided into two general groups: site-specific landscapes somehow connected to human presence (though people are rarely present in them) and shot during distinct periods of time, and a more ranging, long-term examination of the United States accomplished largely by photographing Americans contextualized by their environments. The large format 8-by-10 view camera Sternfeld employs may be part of the reason for that formality, but the camera's more obvious function is to capture and render the rich textures and telling details that draw Sternfeld to a particular scene. Sternfeld's sense of irony comes through in the way these subjects are dressed as if to color-coordinate with their surroundings, while the darkness of his humor is suggested by their unsettling expressions.”

After the “Exhausted Renegade Elephant” hit the art world, like any piece of art, it was analyzed by art critics. Here are a couple of reviews of “Exhausted Renegade Elephant”:

“In one well-known picture, an elephant lies collapsed on a country road (Exhausted Renegade Elephant, Woodland, Washington, June 1979, 1979/2003). It's a jarring image that may look staged or PhotoShopped to an eye nourished on Jeff Wall or Gregory Crewdson and his spawn. But no: It's just that Sternfeld has a knack for homing in on improbable situations, and his lucid, hieratic style, which suggests the gaze of an omniscient narrator, heightens the pictures' resemblance to fiction.”

This one is quite possibly my favorite:

“…The elephant is also flanked by a variety of human onlookers whose reactions to it's predicament read in sharp contrast to each other. The family peering cautiously from their driveway seem to perceive it as a threat, the man with the hose is providing physical relief to it in the form of water, the teenagers on the bank are amused by it, and the sheriff? We can't say. All that shows of him is his pant leg, stretched casually out in his cruiser as if he were taking a nap. There is a silent, unsettling authority to the form of this man and his cruiser, sitting comfortably at the bottom right of the image. A final blockade against any ideas the viewer might have of further action about to take place. The action is over.”

When The Dust Settled

Morgan Berry’s body was eventually recovered. His official cause of death was labeled as a heart attack. However, what isn’t known is the sequence of events. Did he have a heart attack and was then trampled or vice versa. We’ll never know. Thai and Tonga both survived the ordeal and Berry’s son, Ken ended up moving to Florida.

While the headline of the day, the event passed off into history, quickly to be forgotten. The elephant, the photographer, and the Sheriff are all now perfectly preserved in time in one celebrated photo captured by pure luck and complete happenstance.

~ DcU

Then and Now

If you missed it, here is the podcast from the radio program I appeared on "Then and Now" hosted by Deborah Stopper. Deborah asked me to come and talk about law enforcment history in September. The first time I wasn't very well prepared but it wasn't bad.



Then and Now Sept 4th

http://www.4bluecollarworkers.com/4bluecollarworkers.com/Podcasts/Entries/2009/9/4_HISTORY_OF_LAW_ENFORCEMENT_IN_COWLITZ_COUNTY.html

Then and Now October 30th

Here is the second time I was on the show. This time I told the story of "The Elephant, The Photographer, and the Sheriff", Roy Gardner, and some on the hangings.

http://www.4bluecollarworkers.com/4bluecollarworkers.com/Podcasts/Entries/2009/10/30_HISTORY_OF_LAW_ENFORCEMENT_IN_COWLITZ_COUNTY.html

~DcU

A Lasting Impact - Lt. George Dunn, Longview Police 1950-1980

On May 7th of this year, I received an email from a Scot Dunn telling me that if I was interested in some history of the Longview Police Department, I might want to contact his father, retired Lt. George Dunn. Thinking that I was going to get a little information to add to what I had, I had no idea the amount of information I was going to get. The sad part of this is that about that time, I got incredibly busy and didn’t have a chance to get in touch with him. In June, I finally had the chance to get with him and hear his incredible story.

Now, I want to warn you, George’s story isn’t sexy. George wasn’t a SWAT operator or the Sheriff who conducted the first hanging. No movies have been made about him and no books have been written. However, a lot was written, but it wasn’t about George, it was written by George. In addition to writing down the history of the Longview Police Department (which I’m very thankful for), he created his own history.

When George was hired in 1950, life as a cop wasn’t great. You really had to want to be a cop, as George quickly learned. There wasn’t any money to be made and you had to buy your own uniforms and equipment. There was no police academy so your introductory training was a day with Sgt. Ray Bailey. That was it. After that, you were on your own. Back then, most guys didn’t retire early because there wasn’t a retirement system for local cops. A good example of this was Sgt. Ray Bailey. Sgt. Bailey ended up dying in 1956, thirty years into a career that he never had a chance to retire from. George recognized these hardships early on and spent his entire career trying to fix it.

Starting as a patrolman, walking the beat on Commerce Avenue, George can tell you stories of the days before handheld radios were used. According to George’s son, Scot, “Longview never had a call box system that anybody remembers. As you know they used a call light system. The system was called a "Gamewell" and in the 1940's and 1950's, it was well before hand held radios. One light was at Commerce and Broadway at the Columbia Mercantile Bldg and the other was on the old station on the 1100 block of Commerce. During the 30's and 40's if an officer was needed, they would flip the light by toggle switch from the station. During the night hours 6pm to 6am, there was one man working town patrol and he was assigned a car. When the light went on he would "hotfoot" back to the station and get the call.”

In October of 1951, George was on patrol when they got a call of a robbery at the St. Helen’s Inn. The armed suspect fled in a taxi cab and George and Merchant Patrolman Fred Binkley were in hot pursuit after spotting the vehicle near Mt. Solo.

With George behind the wheel of the Longview Police Paddy Wagon, they chased the cab west on Ocean Beach Highway. Hitting some loose gravel, George lost control of the vehicle and it shot off the roadway, towards the river, striking a pole. The pole was severed and Binkley was ejected from the vehicle. With the vehicle on its side, and parts and pieces strewn about the highway, another patrol car quickly rushed Binkley to the hospital while George jumped into a third patrol car and continued the pursuit with another officer.
The suspect was then stopped and George and the other officer held the suspect at gunpoint with the suspect pointing his rifle back at them. After a few very tense minutes, the suspect finally lowered his gun and George lowered the hammer of his revolver taking him into custody.

Binkley later died of his injuries and George suffered a slug into his heel from an unintentional discharge of his gun. It was later noted in the State Patrol’s report that they believed Binkley may have tried to jump from the vehicle, before impact, for fear of it plunging into the Columbia River. Binkley didn’t know how to swim and was very afraid of water. George was later cleared of any wrong doing and the accident was blamed on the road conditions at the scene.

What’s impressive about this incident is George’s willingness to stay in the fight. He could have just stopped when the vehicle crashed and went to the hospital, but he didn’t. If you’ve never been in a vehicle accident like that one, you can’t imagine what it is like.

George went on to be a detective for a while and then was promoted to Lieutenant where he basically stayed for the rest of his career but never forgetting where he came from. With his new position, George was determined to make life better for cops. Not just the cops that worked under him, but all cops in the State of Washington.

One way he found to do this was to help found the Washington State Law Enforcement Association (WSLEA). George then became a lobbyist for the group spending each legislative session in Olympia over the next several years. During his time in Olympia, George authored hundreds of bills, most notably, the Felony Eluding Statute. He also wrote the LEOFF 1 retirement system which was the first retirement system in the state for law enforcement officers outside of the major metropolitan areas.

Also, his son Scot explained, “Dad went to CA and worked with Northwestern Traffic Institute studying colors and densities of lights. He stood downtown one night (who knows why) and noticed with the drizzle rain and all the colored store lights, that Red on the Patrol Cars was barely visible. He and Lloyd Inman went over to 15th and shot pictures down 15th in a drizzle rain and with all the tail lights, store lights and traffic signal’s, you couldn't see the Patrol cars overhead red lights. They did a study with NW Traffic and some Law Enforcement "think tank" in San Luis Obispo CA. Dad then went back to the State Legislature and got a bill made in to law to allow Law Enforcement to get blue for their vehicles and volunteer firefighters were then assigned green.”

Then in 1976, George developed and commanded the first Police Academy at the Longview Police Department. According to Scot Dunn, “In 1976, dad told me because of the way he was treated and trained, he decided to start the Academy which he was the Director. The academy was recognized by the State Law Enforcement training commission. As quoted by the commission, ‘Lt Dunn has built one of the finest Law Enforcement training programs in the state.’ Each session was 8 weeks (463 hours). Dad put a lot into that training. He worked with a lot of people and with LCC to get it accredited.”

There are a multitude of other accomplishments that George Dunn contributed such as designing two of the four different patches that LPD has had over its 70 plus years. He also worked to get Opticon units installed on the patrol cars so that the cars would trip a green light while running code across town making it safer for the officers.

George retired on March 17th, 1980. He spent his career making life for other cops better than it was when he was hired in 1950. A lot changed over that time frame to include the major advances in training and equipment. George could have spent his 30 year career behind the steering wheel of a patrol car or quietly sitting behind his desk but, he didn’t. George decided to make a difference. In doing so, he not only made a difference, he made an impact.

I want to thank Scot Dunn for bringing his father to my attention and for providing me with so much information. I would also like to thank his father, George Dunn, for making my career better, safer, and more secure.

~ DcU

I Guess You Got Me Boys

In the late 1960’s, a big-time moonshine operator ran his still near Silver Lake. A lot of moonshine was produced and ultimately called the attention of the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax authorities, who spent weeks searching for the location. The finally found it hidden behind the fish farm pond where they stopped to buy fish for dinner. Here they found evidence in a batch of mash scattered along the bank where the spent grain was left as fish food. In order to proceed, a search warrant was necessary, so Sheriff Merle Bevins was contacted.

Without hesitation Sheriff Bevins secured a warrant and joined the party. At that point of time, he himself had to serve it and make the arrest. Unfortunately no one was home when the search warrant was served. Never-the-less, the site was located and searched. It was well-hidden in an old saw-filing shed from the early logging days. The inside walls were lined with bales of hay which kept the light from shining through the cracks while the still was in use at night.

Being persistent, they finally found the moon-shiner at home. The Alcohol and Tobacco Tax authorities told him they knew he was making “moon” and did he want to show them where he had his still? According to Sheriff Bevins, “He stuck his hands in his bib overalls and looked down at the ground for a long time, then he said: ‘I guess you got me boys!’ Then I served the warrant and arrested him.”

He took us out to the shed where we found a bunch of gallon jugs sitting around, one of which was full. This was taken as evidence. “I took the man to jail,” said Bevins.

In the end it was discovered that this still operator had been supplying wholesalers who bottled it for resale.
________________________

Interestingly enough, I found this story in “Law Enforcement in Washington State: The First 100 Years”. One day, while at the beach, I was browsing through the book and read this story. As I read the part where “He stuck his hands in his bib overalls and looked down at the ground…” I realized that I had a picture from this event. In one of the first batch of photos I got from the museum, there was this one. The description that came with it said “Sheriff Bevins with man arrested in an illegal wine making operation.” Sheriff Bevins is on the left in the photo and there is also an unidentified deputy on the right. I was facinated at how well the story described the photo perfectly since the book did not have any photos for the story.

~ DcU

One Cell Jail Cell

When I initially wrote about Cowlitz County’s First Jail (January 22nd Blog), I new at the time that the jail cell sitting at the Cowlitz County fairgrounds was not the first jail in the county. The first jail in fact was a room used to store firewood in the Kalama courthouse.

That revelation was a bit disappointing since having the jail cell that housed the three men hanged for murder in Cowlitz County would have been an important piece of history (in my mind anyway). Well, this is where the other interesting phone call that I received comes in.

Once again, thanks to Leslie Slape at The Daily News, I received a call from Walter Hanson who lives outside of Woodland. He left me a mysterious message saying he had information about the jail that is sitting at the Fairgrounds. More importantly, he mentioned that the jail cell at the Fairgrounds was not the first jail. How did he know this? He knew this because HE has the original jail cell.

I immediately called Walter back and set up a time to meet with him at the Burgerville in Woodland the following Monday. When I arrived at Burgerville, I met up with a lively bunch of gentleman who I had the pleasure of losing the daily coin flip affording me the opportunity to buy everyone’s coffee. The discussion was lively and a bit reserved since none of them knew who I was.

One of the gentleman (96 years old), and I’m sorry but his name has slipped my mind, stated that his father knew Robert Day. Robert Day, as you’ll recall, was the first documented hanging in Cowlitz County. According to him, the only reason Robert Day hanged that June day was because he fired the first shot. As the story goes, Robert Day and James Beebe were having an ongoing property line dispute. When they stepped out onto the road to settle the dispute, shots were fired and James Beebe died.

Subsequently, I’ve been told that the family of Robert Day and James Beebe still reside in the Lewis River Valley and I’m hoping to meet each family to learn more about what really happened on that day. The rest of the conversation bounced all around that morning before it turned back to the original reason I was there, to hear about the jail cell.

Walter said that he has been in possession of the jail since the late 1960’s. According to him, the jail cell that he has was from the courthouse in Kalama. When the City of Woodland incorporated in 1906, they built a new city hall and jail. (According to my records, Woodland did in fact build its town hall and jail in 1906. It was 16’ x 24’ and cost the city $285.) The cell, according to Walter, was given to Woodland to use since they didn’t have a cell for their jail. The cell was used in the Woodland jail for years before it ended up underneath the stairs at the original fire hall.

Nobody really paid any attention to the iron cell under the stairs other than to store junk inside of it. As time went on, the cell made it’s way out into the back of the public works lot and then eventually to a private business in downtown Woodland where it was used to store fertilizer. When word came out that the cell was to be cut up for scrap, Walter Hansen recognized the historical value of it and offered to take it for preservation purposes. He cleaned it up and painted it battleship gray. The cell was then mounted onto a trailer and he used it in events like the Planter’s Day parade. Since then, it has been stored in the barn on his property collecting dust.

We then drove to his property and I had the opportunity to see the jail cell. Wrapped in the darkness of the aging barn, resting atop a trailer with flattened tires, sits the piece of history I’d been looking for. A large, square, gray, …… thing. It was a 10’ x 10’ ugly piece of metal. And boy was it ugly. No windows and no bars, simply a large, square, gray…. thing. At first sight, I actually had to try and figure out what I was actually looking at.

We walked around to the back of this, thing, and Walter opened the stiff, iron door to reveal the emptiness of the interior. Nothing but blackness. Using a flashlight, you could see that there was no floor thanks to the years of fertilizer. You could also see where the bunk once hung from the wall but is now forever lost to history. On the door is a small port window that Ben Holmes would have opened to pass meals to Robert Day.

Could this be the jail cell that W.A. Williams sold to the county commissioners in 1892 for $2000 (which is the equivelant of $45,000 in today's money)? Is this the cell that housed the three men hanged by the County? If this is the jail cell purchased to protect Robert Day, what a fantastic piece of history sitting before me. Now, keep in mind, I haven’t proven that this is in fact the original jail cell, yet, but I’m confident it’s close. ~ DcU ~

Sheriff Benjamin Lechmore Holmes

As it turns out, my theory of how the hanging of Robert Day must have affected Former Cowlitz County Sheriff Ben Holmes appears to be right on. Shortly after the article about my historical journey appeared in The Daily News (thanks Leslie), I received a couple of very interesting phone calls. The first was from a gentleman named Mark Holmes (the second I will describe in another post). Mark is the great-grandson of Ben Holmes and was very interested in talking with me about his great-grandfather and provided me with some great information about how Ben Holmes was indeed, a good man.

Benjamin Lechmore Holmes was born in Doaktown, New Brunswick March 9th, 1837. Lewis, Ben’s father came from Sharon, Massachusetts and spent his adult life in Doaktown, in the lumber business. In 1862, Ben at the age of twenty-five, went to Sharon Massachusetts during the Civil War and joined the Union Army. He never returned to Doaktown. After the war, he left his relatives in Sharon and went to the logging center of Neceah, Wisconsin along the Lemonwier River and worked as a logger.

Susan Smith arrived in Neceah Wisconsin, from Ireland, in 1851 at four years old with her parents Patrick and Catharine Smith. Susan and Ben married in Mauston, Wisconsin on June 27th, 1870.

Jim Carter and Susan’s older sister, Mary Carter, were on the Kalama River Prairie in 1870 (the year Ben and Susan were married). Jim and Mary were doing well raising sheep and cattle as well as raising a family. The accounts of their success reached Ben and Susan in Wisconsin and they followed the Carters to Washington. Susan’s three brothers, Hugh Smith, Charlie Smith, and Jimmy Smith followed suit and came to Kalama.

In 1876, Ben and Susan packed up their children Annie Teresa and Lewis Charles and boarded the train for San Francisco. To get to Kalama from San Francisco, they went by steam ship to the Columbia River. After a month of travel, they arrived in Kalama aboard the T.J. Potter, a side wheeler.

Ben built his house on the Kalama River, “where the stream rushes out from the hills and deepens into many pools. He could see Salmon resting in them until they ascended into the rapids to spawn. He contemplated the swirling might of water emptying into the Columbia three miles to the west.” In 1885, the Washington Fisheries Commission built a fish hatchery consisting of one rearing pond and incorporated Ben’s house on his Kalama River homestead site. The home sat where the lower Kalama fish hatchery sits today.

Ben and Susan had two more children while living in Kalama. Francis Lechmore (1877) and John Warren (1879) bringing the brood to four. The Holmes children attended a one room school house that served the families of the early settlers. The pupils played games at recess and were accustomed to lend and borrow chewing gum from each other. In time, all walked the railroad tracks to Kalama to school.

A piano was a joyful addition to a home on the Kalama River Prairie. When one came to her home, Annie learned to play. A glorious day came to Annie and Charlie when they, many, many years later, entered the Dearborn Henry Ford Fiddlers Contest and competed at the Rivoli Theatre in Portland.

Little Francis and John were a bit more mischievous. The Holmes family had befriended an old Native American named Doc. Doc had lived his whole life in the developing territory of the Kalama River and would come daily for biscuits and baked beans. When he arrived, Doc would hold out his hat and Susan would fill it to the brim with beans and biscuits. One day, Doc came by not for food, but to retrieve his indispensable ax that Little Francis and John had stolen and hid. When confronted, the thieving rascals lied and claimed to know nothing of the ax. Charlie protested and said to old Doc, “Truff, truff” and led old Doc to where his ax was hidden. Susan was very proud of Charlie’s forthrightness in befriending and helping Doc.

Ben Holmes was born to logging. During seven years of homesteading in Kalama, he built and operated a saw mill. He had a yoke of oxen to handle the operation. It was natural for him to sign for a timber claim on the Coweeman River. Ben worked as a logger until 1889 when he was elected as the fourth Sheriff of Cowlitz County. He held the Sheriff’s Office for two terms leaving office in 1892. Ben Holmes was the first Sheriff charged with having to hang a man in the line of duty.

He was then appointed postmaster of Kalama of that same year. On April 1st, 1895, while walking down the sidewalk, Ben Holmes suffers the effects of a “paralytic shock”, causing him to fall on the sidewalk striking his head on the pavement. He was taken to his home where he later died.

Susan Holmes never remarried and her daughter, Annie, never married either. Annie spent a year in the galley of a river boat and for many years was a Milner in the ladies shop in Kalama. She and Susan moved to Portland in 1911.

Charles Lewis Holmes was a bridge carpenter and switchman for the OWRR and N system. He married Nadean Cook in 1905 and moved to Portland. Francis Holmes was a purser on the OWRR and N transfer boat between Kalama and Goble, Oregon. He moved to Portland in 1905. John Holmes was an accountant for the Union Pacific Company in Portland.

Mark Holmes is the grandson of John Holmes and said that the only information passed on through the years about Ben Holmes and the hanging of Robert Day was that it left a really bad taste in Ben’s mouth. “He had a problem with killing Robert Day and never got over it.” ~DcU~

Capitol Punishment in Cowlitz County

Death is a part of life but killing is a little more complicated. Coming off the cuff of a Civil War, our young country had faced unimaginable death and the psychological consequences of killing. This is something that must have been playing out on a warm June day in 1892, when Cowlitz County Sheriff Ben Holmes placed a dark hood over Robert Day’s head looking him in the eye one last time. What must have been going through his mind? Was this his friend or did he loathe the man to such a degree that the mere thought of his death brought with it a certain satisfaction of final judgment. With the hood in place, his sweaty hands slipped the noose over Day’s head letting the slipknot rest against the condemned mans heart while it beat furiously in its last few moments. Yes, death is a part of life but, killing is not.

Robert Day’s killing of James Beebe sent him to an inevitable rendezvous with death at the hands of an otherwise good man in Sheriff Ben Holmes. For Ben, killing in self defense would have been one thing. But, killing just because it is “your job” would suddenly make it much more difficult. In Cowlitz County in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s this was something that was dealt with by four particular Sheriff’s. Each of which had to make a decision; to kill in the name of the law, or walk away.

“On Killing”

Our vision of the “Old West” being a lawless land where the Sheriff would gun down a man without hesitation is good for John Wayne in the movies but in reality, probably didn’t happen that often. Hangings, however, did occur. Capitol punishment was alive and well when Washington became a state in 1889. Hangings were conducted at the County Sheriff level until the State of Washington began handling executions in 1904.

With the Sheriff conducting the hangings brings up a difficult dichotomy. That is, a good man having to kill without provocation and the effect of that on him. During the Civil War there was a problem with soldiers not willing to fire even when faced with insurmountable odds. Lt. Col. Dave Grossman writes in his book, “On Killing”, about the difficulty of good people trying to kill, specifically, soldiers killing in combat. According to Lt. Col. Grossman, after the battle of Gettysburg, 27,574 muskets were recovered from the battlefield. Of those, 90 percent were loaded. Some were loaded with multiple rounds. In such a horrific battle, why weren’t these guns empty? Lt. Col. Grossman writes:

“That the average man will not kill even at the risk of all he holds dear has been largely ignored by those who attempt to understand the psychological and sociological pressures of the battlefield. Looking another human being in the eye, making an independent decision to kill him, and watching as he dies due to your action combine to form the single most basic, important, primal, and potentially traumatic occurrence of war. If we understand this, then we understand the magnitude of the horror of killing in combat.”

While law enforcement is not combat in the literal sense of the word, the traumatic aspects of killing remain the same. Lt. Col. Grossman engages the combat mindset in his writings and lectures and speaks to a vast audience from military personal to law enforcement officers. The understanding of the mindset of killing in combat and killing in law enforcement are undistinguishable.

That would have held true in 1892 as well. When Ben Holmes became Sheriff, he didn’t have a police academy or Lt. Col. Dave Grossman to explain to him the mental aspects of killing. Ben had to learn this on his own one day in June of 1892.

One Day In June

As part of his many diverse duties, Sheriff Holmes was tasked with the housing and care of prisoners. Whenever he was away, there would be others that would step in and assist, but the bulk of the work fell on Ben. The Sheriff would provide food, lodging, and more than likely, a good amount of conversation with whoever was lucky enough to spend the night in jail. The Cowlitz County Jail was located in the courthouse in Kalama and was not only used to hold prisoners, but it was also used to store firewood. Assuredly not the most secure facility on the west coast. But without a large tax base, it was probably the best the County could do at the time.

Having been convicted of First Degree Murder in October of 1891, Robert Day was placed in custody in the Cowlitz County Jail. Whether or not Robert Day and Ben Holmes knew each other prior to this is unknown, but in such a small community, they most likely did. They might have been friends but then again, they might have been raging enemies. Regardless of their past affiliation, Robert Day was now living face to face with Sheriff Ben Holmes on a daily basis, like it or not.

According to Leland Jackson’s book, “Early Castle Rock and North Cowlitz County, Washington”, shortly after his arrest, an impromptu “necktie” party went after Robert Day at the courthouse in an attempt to exact their own brand of frontier justice. According to Jackson, Sheriff Holmes thwarted the efforts of the disgruntled lynch mob by secreting Day out of the courthouse and hiding him in the attic of a nearby business. Ben Holmes was saving the life of a man that he was one day going to kill.

Obviously sensing the need for a more secure jail, Ben Holmes almost certainly spoke with the County Commissioners in this regard to protect his new inmate. Within a few weeks, a new iron jail cell was purchased from the Pauly Jail Company in St. Louis for $2000 and placed in the courthouse. Robert Day could now peacefully wait out his pending sentence.

Housing prisoners is not an easy job in 1891. It must have been exceptionally difficult with no running water, no bathrooms, to linen service, no kitchen, and no one to clean out the cells. Ben was a jack of all trades and probably a master of none. Waiter, housekeeper, servant, and cheap entertainment were all titles he could have worn with pride. Think of what a day must have been like, “Hey Ben, I’m thirsty.”

“Hey Ben, I need to use the outhouse.”

“Hey Ben, I’m hungry.”

“Ben, what are you doing? What are you doing that for?”

“Hey Ben, I’m cold.”

“Hey Ben, I don’t feel good. Hey Ben… Ben …. Ben ….”

Now Robert Day was in custody from October of 1891 to June of 1892. Ben would probably have had Robert helping around the jail, which wouldn’t have been uncommon in those days. He might have been helping clean or maybe helping haul in lumber or firewood. We don’t really know. But we do know that they were together. We know because of human nature that they talked. Robert and Ben must have had many a conversation in that time. All day everyday they would have been communicating. And in eight months of being together, they must have formed some sort of bond.

By the end of their time together, Ben Holmes either couldn’t wait to kill Robert Day or he may have discovered that Robert Day wasn’t that bad after all. Is it possible for a good man to make a bad decision? Is it possible that Ben Holmes knew all about the shooting of Beebe and the justification for it? If that was the case, then what was Ben Holmes thinking when he got ready on the morning of June 6th, 1892. Was this to be a good day or a day that will haunt him for the rest of his life?

Either way, now Ben Holmes was faced with a simple reality. He had to kill Robert Day as he stood there defenseless. Robert Day was going to look him in the eye and say, “I’m ready.” Ben Holmes was going to pull the hood over his head, slip the rope into position and kill a man that he now knows better than he ever did. This is no longer a stranger. This is a man that he sat with day in and day out for eight months. This is a man he ate many meals with, talked to, shared likes and dislikes with, and possibly came to like. On this day, Ben Holmes was to become a killer. If it wasn’t bad enough that Ben Holmes had to kill Robert Day, he also had to remove the body, haul the body, and dig the grave of Robert Day for which he was paid $6.

Ben Holmes ran again for Sheriff in 1892 but lost the election to A.L. Watson. But did the incoming Sheriff learn anything from his predecessor? Did Ben Holmes tell A.L. Watson how to tie a hangman’s noose and explain what it was like to hang a man?

The Same But Different

If the incoming Sheriff’s learned anything from the hanging of Robert Day, that was the fact that a public hanging is a spectacle that creates a community event. Some speculate that 1500 to 2000 people watched as the body of Robert Day dropped through the scaffolding in the courtyard of the Kalama courthouse. Former County Superior Court Judge J.E. Stone and several of his fellow classmates watched through their classroom windows as Sheriff Holmes prepared Day for his death. According to Judge Stone, though, they were put in their seats by their teacher prior to the actual execution.

When A.L. Watson was elected Sheriff in 1893 taking over for Ben Holmes, he made sure that the courtyard around the hanging scaffold would be enclosed and future hangings would be by invitation only. A fence was subsequently built and Sheriff Watson held true to this fact when he himself had to hang Charles Assimus for the murder of James Greenwood. Little documentation exists about this event but we know that a handful of people watched when on January 31st, 1896, Sheriff Watson pulled the lever sending Assimus to his death.

We don’t know how the hanging of Charles Assimus affected Sheriff Watson, if it even affected him at all. A similar situation existed in that, Watson and Assimus were together in the Jail for a prolonged period of time but, Watson would have know what to expect more so than Holmes did. There was something very different this time as well, Watson had help. This time, the Sheriff didn’t do it all on his own. Someone else spent the night on death watch with the condemned man, someone else built the scaffold, and someone else dug the grave.

This would have made the chore of executing a man a little easier by putting some distance between the two but they were still connected. Sheriff Watson and Charles Assimus had plenty of time to get to know each other and Sheriff Watson made sure that Asimus’ needs were met on a daily basis. This was evident when Watson brought in C.B. Magill to take care of Assimus’ ailing teeth on November 12th, 1895 for $2.

But, for whatever reason, Sheriff Watson slipped off into history when A.F. Kirby took over as Sheriff in 1897 in the first of his two terms. By that time, there had been two ‘successful’ hangings conducted by the Sheriff. Successful in that the bad guy was dead, but how successful was it in the way it affected the Sheriff’s.

The Final Execution

In 1900, Sheriff Kirby was tasked with investigating the murders of Cornelius Knapp and his wife in their home. Shot dead at their kitchen table on November 28th, 1900, the gunman snuck up on the couple and fired the fatal rounds through the dining room window as they sat eating a nice, quiet breakfast. Later, the murderer made his way to Kelso where he killed William B. Shanklin. Shanklin’s charred body was found inside the burned remains of his Kelso cabin.

The Sheriff’s investigation led him to a man who once lived with the Knapp’s in their Hazed Dell area home, Martin Stickle. Stickle was making his way through life as a fisherman working on the Cowlitz River. Growing up as the son of a former grist mill operator on Arkansas Creek, Stickle was ultimately convicted of murder by Judge A.L. Miller. However, there would be a catch.

Unlike Robert Day and Charles Assimus, Stickle was not sentenced to death and executed right away. For whatever reason, Sheriff A.F. Kirby decided he did not want to do the actual execution of Martin Stickle. Was this a friend of his? Were they related? Or did Kirby see how past executions affected the other Sheriff’s? That, we don’t know.

In an interesting political maneuver, Sheriff Kirby, according to Judge J.E. Stone, was able to convince Judge A.L. Miller to postpone the sentencing of Stickle until a new Sheriff took office. This would relieve him of the burden of killing the condemned man. Judge Miller agreed and the sentencing was postponed.

In January of 1901, Elmer Huntington was sworn in as Sheriff of Cowlitz County inheriting the unenviable job of executing Martin Sickles. Did Elmer Huntington know what he was getting into? Once again, we don’t know. We can only assume that since the murders and trial had already taken place that he did know. There was only one problem though; Elmer Huntington didn’t know how to hang a man.

Elmer Huntington deputized Kalama businessman J.M. “Pony” Bush to assist with the execution of Martin Stickle. Simply because, according to Leland Jackson, “Pony” Bush, had experience in hangings while living in the state of Arkansas. In addition, “Pony” Bush, is the only person around that knows how to tie a hangman’s noose. But with all of his “experience”, things don’t go according to plan. Reportedly there was a miscalculation somewhere in the planning and when Huntington pulled the lever, Stickle was nearly decapitated.

For Sheriff Huntington, there was no connection (that we know of) with Martin Stickle. Like Sheriff Watson, there was distance between him and the man he was tasked to kill making the task that much easier. Unfortunately, the same wouldn’t be true for what Ben Holmes must have faced nearly a decade earlier. By 1895, Ben Holmes had died from an apparent stroke at 54 years old. Undoubtedly Holmes was affected by the hanging of Robert Day but did that outcome play into his own death? Once again, we don’t know.

While at this point in history, we can only speculate as to how each hanging would have affected each Sheriff. After the State of Washington took over capitol punishment from the counties in 1904, two more Cowlitz County citizens were hanged after being convicted of murder sparing the County Sheriffs from having to deal with this perplexing situation. Clearly, based on what we know about the human mind and the difficulty a good person has in killing his fellow man, we know that it couldn’t have been easy for anyone, but obviously we can’t say for sure. Being a combat veteran myself and having been involved in a lethal force situation as a law enforcement officer, I can say that the actual decision to kill a man isn’t nearly as difficult as the aftermath of that decision.

-DcU