Despite many court appeals and pleas for executive clemency, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg were executed by electrocution on June 19, 1953, at Sing Sing Prison in New York. They became the first U.S. civilians to suffer the death penalty in an espionage trial, and the controversial case received worldwide attention. Some supporters claimed that the political climate in the country had made a fair trial impossible, while others questioned the value of the information that had been transmitted to the Soviet Union, arguing that the death penalty was too severe in this case. President Eisenhower was unsympathetic and unyielding, stating: “I can only say, that by immeasurably increasing the chances of atomic war, the Rosenbergs may have condemned to death tens of millions of innocent people all over the world.”
No other spy case has had such global ramifications. The description of the Rosenbergs’ executions reverberated throughout the world, and would forever call into question the cruel process of death by electrocution. The Associated Press printed a disturbing and vivid account of Ethel’s death, which ultimately weakened public support for capital punishment.
Morton Sobell arrived at Alcatraz on November 26, 1952, as inmate AZ-996. His background as an engineer was not parallel to the criminal histories shared by his new neighbors and he seemed an unusual candidate for the island prison. The administration had worried that because of the nature of his crimes, Sobell could be targeted by the other inmates who by nature were extremely patriotic. But Sobell was also Hoover’s archenemy, and this would in fact earn him a special status amongst the inmate population. In his personal memoir entitled On Doing Time, Sobell recounted his experiences in seemingly unbiased detail. He wrote that the environment at Alcatraz was different from that of any other prison he had seen. The inmates seemed unusually curious, and the guard staff was openly courteous, initially going as far as to address him as “Mr. Sobell.” Like most other new “fish,” he was placed in B Block for a quarantine cycle and it would be several weeks before he was given a job assignment.
Sobell also commented that the population at Alcatraz seemed unusually subdued when he first arrived and that the prison was “like a tomb of living souls. ” Unlike many of the other inmates he was able to adjust to his environment at Alcatraz and used his idle cell time productively by reading extensively from the prison library. Sobell was eventually moved to a cell located at the far corner of C Block. Warden Swope frequently stopped at Sobell’s cell when giving tours to special visitors. He commented during an interview, that without fail, every time the Warden would bring people by as they were touring the prison, they’d catch him sitting on the toilet. He would later reside on the top tier in cell #C-342, where it was significantly warmer and he had a spectacular view of the Golden Gate Bridge.
On March 7, 1958, Sobell was received at Federal Penitentiary in Atlanta, and then on May 30, 1963 he was transferred to the Medical Facility for Federal Inmates in Springfield Missouri. At Springfield Sobell developed a close friendship with Robert Stroud, the “Birdman of Alcatraz,” and would later be the one to find him dead of natural causes in his cell. Sobell was transferred to the Federal Penitentiary in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania on January 30, 1965, and was finally released on January 14, 1969.
Sobell in 2001 returning to Alcatraz as a visitor.
Roy Gardner
Roy Gardner
In the late 1930’s Roy Gardner was known as one of the last notorious train robbers from the old western era, and in the first years after Alcatraz became a Federal prison; Gardner’s name was synonymous with the island institution. He spent two years incarcerated on the island from 1934 until 1936 and after his ultimate release in 1938, he peddled a small informational book and narrated boat tours for San Francisco tourists. Jim Quillen once said that if the walls of Alcatraz could talk, every cell would be novel of tragedy and despair, and he felt that this was especially true in the case of Roy Gardner. When Gardner arrived on one of the first trains from Leavenworth to Alcatraz, he was already a “solid con,” or a seasoned inmate. Gardner was known to the public as a brilliant escape artist, and he was famous for his Houdini-like jailbreaks. Up until his arrival at Alcatraz in 1934, he had seemed nearly impossible to keep caged.
Gardner was born on January 5, 1886 to a poor family in Trenton, Missouri. He entered the U.S. Army, and served in the 22 ndInfantry stationed in the Philippine Islands from 1903 to 1905. After returning to the U.S., he deserted the military because of what he described as “serious gambling debts.” Fearing for his life, he fled to Mexico and took a job working in the mines. In 1909 Gardner was arrested in Mexico for smuggling weaponry, and was sentenced to death by a firing squad for his involvement with the Mexican Revolutionary Army. While awaiting his execution, he was confined in a dungeon under the most horrific conditions. The cells were rat-infested and dimly lit, and he was forced to relieve himself in a bucket that was emptied infrequently. Just three days before his scheduled execution, he amazingly overpowered his sentry and fled to Arizona. From there he eventually traveled northwest to San Francisco.
On December 22, 1910, during the busy Christmas shopping season, Gardner robbed Glindemann’s Jewelry Store on Market Street in San Francisco. Posing as a distinguished customer, he waited as the clerk laid a full tray of diamond rings before him. After taking some time to examine the gems, he grabbed the entire tray and fled into the street, but he was quickly spotted and tackled by a San Francisco police officer. Following his trial he was sentenced to serve five years in a California state prison, and he entered San Quentin on February 16, 1911. He was by all accounts a model inmate, and worked productively in the Prison Industries. He was released in September of 1913, and secured a job at a copper mine in Kennett, California. He eventually took a welding job at the Mare Island Naval Ship Yard, and sold war bonds during World War I. During his short reprieve from crime, Gardner met and married a pretty waitress named Dolly Wades. But despite this interlude of normalcy, Gardner’s link to the world of crime had not yet dissolved.
Dolly Wades-Gardner
After a busted gambling spree during a business trip in April of 1920, Gardner was again arrested for robbing a postal mail messenger in San Diego, taking approximately $75,000 in bonds and securities. He was sentenced to a twenty-five-year Federal term at McNeil Island. The thought of enduring another prison term was unbearable to Gardner, and during his transfer by train, cuffed in hand and leg irons, he made a bold escape from the Federal marshals who were accompanying him. He somehow managed to secure their guns, and made them take off his shackles. He fled, and immediately thereafter committed another robbery. This time he had truly struck gold as his heist would net him over $200,000. But his luck was to prove short-lived. Only days after the robbery, Gardner was recognized while playing poker at a saloon in Roseville, California. The Porter House Saloon was only blocks from where he had committed the robbery. He was captured, and was sent back to McNeil to serve out an additional prison term. Amazingly enough, just like a modern-day Houdini, he again escaped from the Federal marshals. But he was recaptured soon after, and this time extensive precautions would be taken to ensure that he had no means of escape.