The Violent Years (18 page)

Special Prosecutor Chester P. O’Hara, left, and Wayne County Circuit Judge Homer Ferguson. Judge Ferguson was appointed a one-man grand juror to investigate charges of corruption in the Detroit Police Department.

(Photo courtesy of the Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library)

Elmer “Buff’ Ryan. Ryan was the bag man who delivered graft protection payments from the Detroit underworld to police and city officials.

(Photo courtesy of the collections of the
Detroit News
at the Walter Reuther Library, Wayne State University)

Detroit Police Inspector Raymond Boettcher, January 16, 1940. Boettcher’s career was destroyed by the Ferguson Grand Jury investigation. He later became a State’s witness.

(Photo courtesy of the collections of the
Detroit News
at the Walter Reuther Library, Wayne State University)

Former Detroit Mayor Richard Reading being fingerprinted at Detroit Police headquarters April 24, 1940. Both Reading and his son were convicted and sent to prison as a result of the Ferguson Grand Jury investigation.

(Photo courtesy of the collections of the
Detroit News
at the Walter Reuther Library, Wayne State University)

Dr. Martin Robinson, M.D./bookmaker. A phony robbery at Robinson’s office touched off a series of events that started the Ferguson Grand Jury investigation.

(Photo courtesy of the collections of the
Detroit News
at the Walter Reuther Library, Wayne State University)

Everett Watson, September 15, 1941. Watson was a major Detroit numbers operator whose business was destroyed as a result of the Ferguson Grand Jury investigation.

(Photo courtesy of the collections of the
Detroit News
at the Walter Reuther Library, Wayne State University)

Eddie Sarkesian was a tough Detroit mob collector who went into the unhealthy business of robbing Mafia protected handbooks. He paid with his life.

Chris Scroy was a bookmaker and racketeer. His brother Sam and a cousin were murdered by the Detroit mob in 1948 when they tried to set up an independent gambling operation.

“How many coppers did I get today? Only one you say, that’s too bad. I had always hoped to get six of them before they got me. They got me today buddy!”

—Paul Jaworski, September 13, 1928

T
he morning of June 6, 1928, was typical of an early summer’s day in southeastern Michigan. The weather was mild, and a light rain was falling. At approximately 11 a.m., a sedan pulled up in front of the
Detroit News
building located on West Lafayette Boulevard. Five men climbed out of the car, while another man continued to sit behind the wheel. The men were all well dressed. One of them carried a large package wrapped in red paper. The only thing that looked out of the ordinary about the group was that they all seemed to have their hats pulled down over their faces. An attendant inside the lobby of the
Detroit News
building paid little attention to the men, as they walked briskly past his information desk and trotted up the staircase to the second floor of the building. When they reached the second-floor landing, the man carrying the package ripped it open. The package contained three sawed-off shotguns, which were quickly distributed to the others. The sound of shotgun shells being racked into chambers echoed down the stairway corridors of the building. Two of the bandits pulled pistols and walked over to the entrance of the editorial offices. Each of the men quietly took up positions at the doorway, menacing the
News
staff on duty that morning with their guns. The other three men walked into the
Detroit News
business offices located across a hallway. All three gunmen quickly jumped up on a long counter that ran almost the entire length of the large room ending at the cashier’s cage. The sound of typewriters and conversations abruptly ceased as one of the bandits yelled, “Put ‘em up!” The two other gunmen ran the length of the counter and scaled a 10-foot framed glass partition that separated the cashier’s office from the rest of the room. There were about 50 people in the
News
business offices that morning. Most of them were women stenographers. All hands were instantly held high in the air on the gunman’s command. The marauders had suddenly turned a routine morning into a terrifying nightmare. One of the ladies in the group edged quietly toward a nearby fire box and tried to pull an alarm. The bandit standing on top of the counter noticed the movement and screamed, “Get away from there!” firing a pistol at the floor and creating a tremendous commotion in the room. One of the two bandits who had dropped down into the cashier’s cage held a shotgun on the four employees who were working at that location. Another bandit dumped a box of pay envelopes into a satchel and grabbed at loose bills laying on the countertops, shoving them into his pockets.

While the outlaws were busy in the
News
business offices stuffing pay envelopes into their satchels, Mrs. Mary Lunger, an elevator operator at the
News,
stopped her car on the second floor. The two gangsters who had been guarding the entrances to the editorial offices heard the floor bell ring as the elevator came to a stop. One of them ran over to the elevator entrance and waited for the doors to open. Unaware that there was a robbery in progress, Lunger opened the doors of her elevator car. Instantly, the gunman lunged through the opening and grabbed hold of the terrified woman’s arm, attempting to pull her out of the car. Lunger panicked and jerked free of her assailant’s grasp, throwing a door stick at the outlaw. She slammed the elevator doors and took it quickly down to the first-floor lobby. As the car doors opened, she screamed to the lobby attendant and another employee of the
News
that the business offices were being robbed. Both men ran out the Lafayette entrance of the building for help. Their cries for help caught the attention of a Detroit police traffic officer who was posted at the corner. He was told by the men to come quickly.

By this time, the bandits had walked out of the cashier’s cage and were backing out of the business office. One of the gunmen yelled into the room that an alarm had been given. All five bandits raced down the exit stairway toward the lobby. The attendant in the lobby attempted to close an iron gate that ran across the Lafayette entrance, effectively locking the gangsters into the building. Patrolman George Barstad, who had been on duty directing traffic at the corner of Second and Lafayette, parked his traffic semaphore at the curb. At this point, the five bandits came pounding down the staircase into the lobby. One of them raced up to Sloan, who was still struggling with the gate. Shoving a pistol into Sloan’s side, the gunman yelled, “Lookout!” Sloan jumped aside.

Officer Barstad opened the outside door to the vestibule at the same time that the first bandit entered the foyer. The outlaw carried a sawed-off shotgun in his right arm and a satchel in his left. Coming face to face with Barstad, he leveled the shotgun and pulled the trigger. Barstad went down in an explosion of flame and smoke. A
News
employee who was directly behind the police officer was also struck by the pellets and fell. The gunman plunged through the doorway and ran for the sedan that had brought the bandits, now parked on the opposite side of Lafayette. The next bandit through the door stopped long enough to fire two more rounds into the prostrate body of the police officer. According to witnesses, one of the other outlaws was heard making the remark, “Don’t let him play possum this time. Make sure he’s dead.”