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And finally, to my late friend Michael Lundeen, my best friend – Godspeed...
Thank you all,
Michael Esslinger
Foreword
Darwin Evert Coon
I can still vividly remember that crisp September day in 1958. I stepped from the prison launch, the Warden Johnston, straining to get a good view of my new surroundings. The cold steel shackles chafed against my skin as I walked through the gates and into a world kept secret from the public. It was a somber feeling, trying to come to grips with the idea that I had been branded as one of the nation’s most incorrigible inmates in the federal prison system. I had been a bank robber, and I was now collecting the wages of my sin. After processing I was strip-searched, then permitted a brief shower and escorted to my new home – a diminutive five-by-nine-foot cell. As I lay back on my hard bunk, I realized that this was it... I had finally reached the end of line... Alcatraz.
I lived under the strict routine of America’s most infamous prison and faced head-on the relentless pressures of existence within my cramped and tiny cell. I became well versed in the cloak-and-dagger underground of Alcatraz, a silent code known only to the inmates. Not everyone was able to come to terms with the stressful and unrelenting regimen. Some responded by committing suicide, and others with explosive surges of deadly violence. Meanwhile, the painful landscape of freedom was spread before us, just out of reach across the bay. The sights and sounds were a continuous reminder of everything we had lost. On some occasions while we were locked in our cells, an eerie quiet would pass over the men. Distant feminine laughter would resonate from a passing tour boat through an open barred window. The voices would quickly fade into the backdrop of seagulls and slow time, and the men would be left with only their thoughts and their memories.
I personally knew many of the famous and not-so-famous inmates who served time on The Rock. I helped my friends John Anglin and Frankie Morris to acquire some of the essential tools that they used in their famed escape attempt (later portrayed in the motion picture Escape from Alcatrazstarring Clint Eastwood) and I would dream like so many others of someday making my own escape.
A long time has passed since I last heard the frequent clashing of steel gates, and the prison guards calling out their counts. Even still, I remain a marked man. One ca
I think you will enjoy reading Michael’s book. Through meticulous research, he has captured the experience of Alcatraz with an authentic voice. It is a skillful blend of history and character study, and a compelling portrait of America’s most notorious prison.
Over the years, I have returned to the island on various occasions to share my experiences with inquisitive visitors. I sometimes return to my old cell and think of that young man lying on his bunk, dreaming of this day. As Richard Nixon once said: “...only if you have been in the deepest valley can you ever know how magnificent it is to be on the highest mountain...”
Darwin E. Coon, AZ-1422
Former Inmate, Alcatraz Federal Penitentiary
Dedication
Philip R. Bergen
“Lieutenant Bergen was a tall, square jawed, handsome man who looked as if he could have been the hero of every Saturday movie serial ever made. He had cool direct eyes and a natural fearlessness. On Alcatraz, he was a “high-risk” guard. He was a daredevil who thought nothing of plunging head-first into danger. In addition he was a deadly shot...”
This is how Clark Howard described Philip Bergen in his brilliant novel Six Against the Rock. Bergen is also depicted in classic novel Birdman of AlcatrazbyThomas E. Gaddis and he appears in numerous and films other books. When I asked Bergen which character depiction he found most accurate, he simply replied: “Well... the birds were very well written don’t you think?”
I doubt that I will ever forget the time I first handed over my “completed” manuscript to Bergen, former Captain of the Guard at Alcatraz. He had spent sixteen years working and living on the island and had raised his two daughters on “the Rock”. I had spent several years conducting exhaustive research and I was quite pleased to hand him what I considered to be the final version of this book. A few weeks later I called Phil to get his opinion of the content and to see if he had any last minute recommendations. He stated in a very matter-of-fact tone: “Sure, rewrite the whole thing or make sure that it is marked fiction.”
Over the next eighteen months I recommenced my long journey, heading back to the archives, cross-checking references against archival records, conducting additional interviews, attending lectures, and even going out with County staff (in the rain and mud) to verify the unmarked burial sites of a few deceased inmates. Thus while Bergen did not have any formal co
Well into his nineties, Phil Bergen remained an Alcatraz aficionado. I attended several Alcatraz reunions and would watch in amazement as Phil rattled off names of people he hadn’t seen in over fifty years. His ability to recount specific events and their chronologies was phenomenal. Phil Bergen represents only one of the many voices of those that lived the Alcatraz experience – but his was a very prominent and authoritative voice. Getting to know Phil was a rare privilege and I feel blessed that he was able to read and comment on all but the final two chapters. Although he has passed, his voice has not been silenced.
Thank you Phil, for helping me to see Alcatraz through your eyes and leaving behind such a remarkable legacy.
Preface
My first introduction to Alcatraz came at a very young age, during a visit to San Francisco with my parents in the late 1970’s. Just as thousands of others had done before me, I peered in wonderment from across the Bay at the small and forbidding island known as “the Rock.” I had seen the books that lined the sidewalks of Fisherman’s Wharf, illustrated with the faces of hardened convicts and vintage photographs, all indicating that the island prison was a kind of living hell. My parents were generous enough to purchase a few of these books for me and I was destined to immerse myself into this fascinating history. As we walked along the pier of Fisherman’s Wharf, I sneaked a few quick peeks into my shopping bag, hoping to catch brief glimpses of the inmates and prison photos. I knew that there were no longer any prisoners residing on the island, but to a young and curious mind, there was still something intriguing and mysterious about it all.