A message scratched onto one of the flat bars of cell #23 in A Block, where several inmates were temporarily housed during the “Battle of Alcatraz.”
On May 2, 1946, six convicts embarked on one of the most violent escape attempts ever made on the Rock. Many historians rank this as the most significant event in the island’s twenty-nine-year history as a Federal penitentiary, and it was appropriately labeled by the contemporary press as the “Battle of Alcatraz.” Of the thirty-nine convicts who attempted to escape over the years, only one successfully plotted and executed a plan to secure weapons – and they were used with deadly consequences. In the wake of the conflict, two correctional officers and three inmates lay dead from bullet wounds and several others were left seriously injured. This legendary escape attempt would remain a topic of discussion by inmates and guards alike until the prison’s closure in 1963.
THE CONSPIRATORS
Bernard Paul Coy
Bernard Paul Coy was the primary architect of one of the most ingenious escape plots ever implemented at Alcatraz. He would be the only inmate in the prison’s history to successfully secure prison firearms.
Forty-six-year-old Bernard Paul Coy was a hillbilly bank robber serving out the remainder of a twenty-five-year sentence on The Rock. Bernie was born to a hauntingly poor Kentucky hill family of one brother and four sisters, all of whom suffered the consequences of extreme poverty. By the time Bernie reached his late teens, his teeth were horribly decayed and he was afflicted with excruciatingly painful gums. It was rumored that Coy had been neglected as a child and had received frequent beatings from his father. Even in his earliest years, Coy had allegedly exhibited violent tendencies.
At sixteen years of age, Bernie decided to leave home and enlist in the U.S. Army. It was in this context that he would enter into his first battle: World War I. Coy served in the Army with great distinction until the war ended in 1918. After finishing his tour of duty, he fell in love with a woman from Wisconsin and the couple soon married. In order to maintain a steady income, Bernie reenlisted in the Army in 1920. As the war effort came to a close, Coy frequently found himself in trouble and it was during this period that he changed the direction of his life, and began moving toward his eventual destiny. In 1921, Bernie was arraigned in Chicago for abandoning his post assignment and going AWOL. He was found guilty of desertion and was sent back to Camp Taylor in Kentucky, where he served fifteen days in the military detention center. Soon afterward, he received a dishonorable discharge and therefore had to make the transition back to civilian life with few job opportunities and limited prospects.
Coy feverishly attempted to find work, in hopes of making a decent life for himself and his wife. He was a gifted craftsman and artist, and made use of his talents as a decorator and painter. However, despite his earnest attempts, the Great Depression had left him unemployed and desperate to support himself. Bernie found himself backed into a corner with few options left by which to survive. In 1923 Coy was arrested in Draper, Wisconsin, for violating liquor laws along with an assault and battery charge. He was released with time served and fined $250, which he clearly could not afford to pay in his state of unemployment. He was convicted of larceny charges in 1928 and 1930, and eventually served nearly five years in the Wisconsin State Penitentiary.
Reading Coy’s letters from the years prior to his Alcatraz escape attempt, it would be nearly impossible to predict his violent and premeditated break for freedom. His letters articulate what appear to be a true desire to reform, as is illustrated in these excerpts written to the superintendent of the prison where he was incarcerated on August 30, 1936:
I regret that this request [for release consideration] must be made under the present unfavorable conditions, rather than under circumstances relevant to the continued progress of some noble social service. Please believe me sincere in my regret, and if there is a loyalty of promise incapable of future betrayal, you may be assured, Sir, that your confidence in me, however great or small, shall never be abused. Since my incarceration, I have made a record which is the envy of everyone. Not one time have I been disobedient, or sullen, nor have I set an example which would not be commendable in the best society. I am a firm believer in discipline, and regulate my actions according to my belief. I believe I have proved myself trustworthy. I am president of the Holy Names Society here inside the prison, a Catholic society, and I know that I have acquitted my office satisfactorily every moment. I do know right from wrong, and certainly try to be well thought of by everyone I meet. The Army and the World War, at age seventeen, gave me a background upon which to build a life equally as remarkable as your own; and I may yet put the right foot first. I am not too proud to ask for help, nor too weak to win if refused. I am not guilty of any crime and have nothing of which to be ashamed. Your will is my determination, Sir, in prison or, at home. More than this no man can promise.
Only six months after composing this letter Coy was released from prison, but he was soon involved in another crime. On April 18, 1937, armed with a sawed-off shotgun, Coy robbed the National Bank of New Haven Kentucky with a friend named Delbert Lee Stiles, and a relative named Richard Coy. The three fugitives made off with just over two thousand dollars and retreated into a small cave by the Rolling Fork River. Three days after the heist, local farmers noticed smoke from their campfire and alerted officials. During the trial that followed, Coy was identified by cashier A.E. Kirkpatrick as the man who had walked up to the cage, drawn a sawed-off shotgun and held him at bay while an accomplice scooped up the money. On June 3, 1937, Bernard Paul Coy was sentenced to twenty-five years and five days in a federal penitentiary. The trio would all be sent to serve out their respective sentences at the Federal Penitentiary in Atlanta.
Bernie did not adjust well to prison life and frequently found himself in isolation as punishment for engaging in altercations with other inmates. It is recorded that Coy physically attacked another inmate with a brutal implement consisting of a razor blade mounted onto a toothbrush handle and this incident would earn him his one-way ticket to Alcatraz. Bernie arrived at Alcatraz on July 31, 1937, and he got off to a rough start during his first years on the Rock. On September 21, 1937 he participated in a work strike stating: “I’m not a big shot or looking for glory, I just want to be locked up in my cell and not be bothered by anyone.” He thus received his first introduction to D Block, and was placed into segregation for one week.
On April 4, 1939 a heated dispute broke out between Bernie and fellow inmate Joe Varsalonawhile they were working in the prison kitchen. In a violent fury, Bernie hit Varsalona, knocking him to the floor. One of the guards came up from the basement, and after trying unsuccessfully to break up the fight, he summoned other correctional officers. But before the other guards could intervene, Varsalona grabbed a butcher knife and inflicted several minor stab wounds on Coy. Bernie was admitted to the prison hospital for seven days and then released back into the general prison population. His first aborted escape attempt came in December of the same year, when it was suspected that Bernie was trying to cut through a steel window-guard in the bakeshop. His actions were quickly halted and as a punitive measure he was thrown into the strip cell and placed on a restricted diet.
Joe Varsalona
It wasn’t long before Bernie found himself back in the general prison population, quietly serving out his time. He soon became what could be considered a model inmate. Despite his limited education, Bernie was a passionate reader, and was thought to be very intelligent. He also found the opportunity to reengage his passion for art. In October of 1944, Warden Johnston wrote Coy a lengthy congratulatory letter regarding a few paintings of landscapes and wartime subjects that Coy had contributed for an exhibit in Washington D.C. at the Congress for the American Prison Association. Johnston remarked that Coy’s paintings were very popular and mentioned how pleased he was to have them representing Alcatraz.