Malone, NY Manhunt: Becoming a Hero

Main Street

Malone, NY had been my hometown since 1980. It has a world class golf course headed by PGA president Derrick Sprague, a beautiful ski resort and masses of wilderness. Little else except wonderful people I love to pieces.

Few people knew of its existence until the recent manhunt for convicted killers Richard Matt and David Sweat.

Lake Titus from Elephant's Head

For me, the misery of that time was muted by distance. Neil and I had moved into our home in Tennessee the day the killers escaped. Unfortunately, Neil had to return for the last of our belongings. Of course, he arrived in Malone, the day before Matt was killed--a distance of six miles from our home.

In the course of the manhunt, Neil was detained in the perimeter as thousands of Law Enforcement Officers (LEO) guarded 22 miles of wilderness--places I've hiked and kayaked. Areas where my friends live.

Friends had to leave their homes and seek safety with relatives. Others armed themselves, some with guns, others with wasp spray or ankle-biting dogs.

No one had peace.

The Salmon Rive above the falls

And least of all me as those I loved lived in fear. The potential for danger was not as thrilling as a Law and Order episode.

The LEOs swarmed downtown, the area by Elephant's Head, Fayette Road and the the dam at Chasm Falls where the Salmon River spills to lower levels and flows through the village.

Each of these men and women--many of them my friends--were heroes. Yet the man who finally brought down the last of the murders, Jay Cook, was not even part of the manhunt.

On the day he encountered Sweat, he was going about his business, doing his job--a mundane assignment of patrolling the area. Alerted by Sweat's appearance and behavior, educated in who to look for, conscientious in performing his duty, he brought the last of the men who held a town hostage for weeks.

The lesson here has little to do with two heinous men, but our own simple lives. We can be heroes simply by doing our jobs and living our lives in the manner we were trained to do. The teacher need not stop a sniper, but her love for a student could end the abuse he endures. The shopping clerk can be the solace for the lonely widow who has no one to talk to. The retired worker from Alcoa can check on his neighbor in times of trial and save a life.

Malone, NY is a filled with heroes--the LEOs deserve their kudos. But remember, we, too can be a hero.

And end of blog for today--but I have two odd "commercial" announcements.

My debut novel: DWF: Divorced White Female takes place in the heart of the search zone:

• Cheryl Chandler, the protagonist, lives in Mountain View
• her home on Moose Hill Road is, in fact, a fictionalized Wolf Pond Road--where the hunting camps are
• she snowmobiled along the roads Sweat and Matt took
• Marina, her baby, was born in Alice Hyde Hospital.
• Check it out on Amazon.com--click on the picture above for a direct link

Then, I've extensively dealt with Malone, NY on this blog: Dutch Shultz, wolf-head scandals, Underground Railroad and much more. Type in Malone in the blog search and you'll find more.

Leave a comment. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Fenians in Malone: Part 4

On May 27, 1870, five hundred additional Fenians reinforced the straggling,  poorly trained group at Leahy's farm in Trout River. They were well situated behind a ditch in a hops' field, had a stout barricade across the highway and woods and the river on

their flanks. Had they been well trained and well led, they could have withheld against any attack and had a successful raid on Canada.

Of course, that did not happen.

One thousand Canadian troops attacked. After a short, disorderly battle, the Fenians scattered. "They fired only a single full volley when the advance began" (Seaver 674). All these shots, and the few rounds that followed, all flew over the heads of the Canadian troops.

Only a few injuries resulted overall, so the Canadians were not much better prepared.

The fleeing Fenians escaped over the border, and the Canadian troops did not follow.

And the fleeing scene is something worthy of a Hollywood comedy. The Fenians swarmed Trout River, ran to Leahy's far and continued on back to Malone throwing away their armaments, or battering them away for food, as they scattered.

On May 28, back at the Fairgrounds, some officers tried to rally the troops for another attack. Hungry and tired, the refused. This appears to be good for them as one thousand US regulars arrived the next morning and would have suppressed the attack.

As a result of the battle, no Canadians were killed, Three or four Fenians were wounded, and one was taken prisoner. According to Seaver, the Fenians themselves were good fighters, but their leadership lacked talent.

Seaver, Fredrick. Historical Sketches of Franklin Countly. Albany: JP Lyons, 1918.

Related articles

• Fenian Uprising--Malone: Part 3 (carol-mcclain.blogspot.com)
• Fenian Uprising, Malone: Part 2 (carol-mcclain.blogspot.com)
• The Fenian Uprising in Malone: Part 1 (carol-mcclain.blogspot.com)

Fenian Uprising--Malone: Part 3

Fenian raids (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Fenians arrived in Malone expecting to find arms awaiting them. Wrong. The US government had confiscated most of them along the border. Thus, unarmed, the Fenians thought it best to not attack Canada in 1866.

Border agents seized a trainload of arms in Watertown. The Fenians recaptured them. Once more, in DeKalb, all the arms were confiscatedm and the Fenians were unable to get them back.

General Meade approached Malone with one-thousand regulars. On June 3, 1866, he ordered the Fenians to disband. Many desertions followed and all who applied for  transportation home were given it. Thus, Malone became a peaceful village once more.

Over twenty-thousand prisoners were captured in Canada and sentenced to be hung. Most were commuted to life imprisonment.

For four years, not much happened as far as the Fenian revolution. In the early spring of 1870, a second movement began. This time, they forwarded their arms months ahead of time. These supplies were hidden in the barns of sympathetic farmers. Chateuagay, Fort Covington and Hoagansburg were principle hiding places. Arms were then hauled to Trout River.

Malone was chosen as a principle invasion point. They would rush a troop into Canada. There they would wait for reinforcements. The troops who assembled in Malone did not camp here as they had in 1866. Instead they hurried off to Trout River

On May 25, 1870, they marched into Canada from the farm of George Lahey, a half mile south form Trout River. The Canadians were warned by spies, but no Canadian troop reached Huntingdon until May 26, so the place was undefended.

The Fenians advanced about three miles, and staked out a position on the Donnelly farm. Here they levied the farmers for food, raided stores and, in general, acting like invading armies.

Because their reinforcements failed to come. The Fenians retreated back to Leahy's farm on May. 26.

Next week: the conclusion of the Fenians in Malone. Do any of you have information regarding these raids you'd like to share?

All work for this article taken from:
Seaver, Fredrick. Historical Sketches of Franklin County. Albany: JP Lyons, 1918.

Related articles

• Fenian Uprising, Malone: Part 2 (carol-mcclain.blogspot.com)
• The Fenian Uprising in Malone: Part 1 (carol-mcclain.blogspot.com)
• The day the Irish Fenians invaded Canada (IrishCentral) (irishcentral.com)

Fenian Uprising, Malone: Part 2

Canadian Home-Guard defending against Fenians in 1870. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Canadians worried about an attack by the Fenians from the States. As early as November 1865, they placed troops at the borders and kept them on duty. In March they asked for 10,000 volunteers to guard the border and got 14,000. Eventually, they let their guard down and the volunteers returned home.

Then on June 2, 1866, reports came to Huntingdon that trains loaded with Fenians headed for Malone. The Canadians quickly re-assembled. Unfortunately, they had no firearms. Had the Fenians advanced at this point, they would have met no resistance and possibly have succeeded.

The Trout River Highway became heavily guarded and the Canadians placed at a fortification built to defend the road. Heavy rains turned that road into a quagmire and conditions persisted that would make advancement by the Fenians improbable.

Canadian farmers moved their families to their hunting cabins and some families moved in with American friends across the frontier.

On the first days of June, about 2,500 Fenians poured into Malone by train under the command of General M.J. Heffenan and Generals Murphy and O'Rielly--Civil War veterans. The bulk of the troops camped at the Fairgrounds on Main Street.

They were poorly provisioned and depended upon the locals for food and supplies. The troops were relatively ungoverned, so they had free access to the town. The residents, at times, feared their looting and rioting, but it never happened.

The only event that created a problem occured when William C. Sylvester, N.J. McGillivray and Dr. MacIntosh, all from Canada, came to see what was happening. By their dress, the Fenians assumed they were spies.

Hundreds of crazed Fenians convened by the Miller House, which  stood where the Flanagan stands today, in order to attack these three men. The commanding officers had little control over their troops. They tried to mingle with the mob in order to rescue the innocent victims.

One, Dr. MacIntosh, unhurt, hid under a lounge in the office of the lawyer William Cantwell. Sylvester's injuries weren't severe. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about McGillivray who was hidden in the attic of the south tower of the train station. Eventually, they secreted him to Pearl Street to the home of Colonel Seaver. He was badly injured. Here, his wounds were tended until the he and Sylvester could be secreted out of Malone. I assume MacIntosh escaped prior to these men.

That was the only Fenian attack in 1866.

Tune in next week for the next installment.

Related articles

• The Fenian Uprising in Malone: Part 1 (carol-mcclain.blogspot.com)

The Malone County Fair: It's origins

On August 25, 1851, Malone formed its first agricultural society. It was too late in the year to have a fair, so the first Malone County Fair was held the following year, in October, and ran only two days.

About seven acres of land was leased from William Andrus (of which Andrus Street--aka the River Road) for five years. His remuneration? Fence the land and remove the stone. . In 1856, the fairgrounds was enlarged to ten acres, and a contract was issued for $1,000 to buy the land. by the time Seaver wrote his history, the grounds had been enlarged to about twenty-five acres.
The first fair had no race track, but a race track measuring one-third of a mile was constructed for 1853The purse for this track was twenty dollars with special events consisting of Indian foot races, which I believe are our contemporary relay races, and lacrosse.


I suppose in the honor of community spirit, the railroad carried competitors stock for free, but would not be held liable for any damages. Of course, they eventually began charging.

In 1862, Malone held no county fair because of the war, but aside from that year, it had been in existence ever since 1852. However, in 1863, they numbered the fair as though one ran the previous years. So the number of fairs equals one less.

Related articles

• Malone & Chateaugay: The War of 1812, Part 2
• Malone: The War of 1812: Part 1

Malone Railroad: A Few Oddities

Ogdensburg-Lake Champlain Railroad Station

Just as Malone craves the "Rooftop Highway" to free it from its economic isolation, in the nineteenth century, the county wanted a railroad. It became the single greatest force for economic growth and prosperity in Malone.

The Ogdensburg-Lake Champlain Railroads began construction in 1848 and 1850 saw the first passenger trains which ran in an east-west direction. This railroad ran through the twin, brick turrets of Community Bank on Elm Street. This made Malone an economic hub. Previously, commerce centered in Fort Covington (formerly French Mills) because of the St. Lawrence River.

In 1892 we got the Adirondack and St. Lawrence Railroads which ran north-south. It's station is now Dr. Weisman's office near Raymond Street.

The farmers prospered because these railroads opened up markets around the state. Because of them, dairying became popular.

Some interesting facts about our railroads--according to Fredrick Seaver, pg. 50:

1. Conductors did not need to collect fees from extremely poor or disabled people.
2. Baggage that weighed over eighty pounds was charged a fee.
3. No work was done in any of the stations on the sabbath.
4. As late as 1885, when other railroad lines offered excursions to the Thousand Islands or Lake Champlain on Sunday, the Ogdensburg-Lake Champlain lines refused.

Malone & Chateaugay: The War of 1812, Part 2

Fort Covington, Franklin County, New York, USA (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Everyone in the Malone and Chateaugay area has used the Old Military Turnpike. Did you know it got its start in the War of 1812?

After the capture of General Tilden in the French Mills (Fort Covington area--seen to the left), the next "significant" battle took place in Chateaugay.

Chateaugay River (Photo credit: NapaneeGal)

Late in the summer of 1813, the United States thought it would be a good idea to capture Montreal. According to Fredrick Seaver, it could have been accomplished had the United States had some competent generals.

From September 26-October 4, 1813, General Hampton's men worked improving the road from Plattsburgh to Chateaugay--our old military turnpike. Ostensibly, we could get goods, but some people believed it would be needed for a hasty retreat. The latter proved more likely.

On October 21, Hampton, whose troops had been camping on the Chateaugay river NW of the village, followed the river north for twenty miles.

Here he came into contact with the enemy which numbered only about nine hundred.

The Canadian army, under the command of deSalaberry, ran away when the American forces came into view. DeSalaberry grabbed his bugler by his collar and wouldn't let him flee. He then made every buglar space himself in the woods. Together they sounded the alarm. The Indians fighting with the Canadians let out war whoops.

Hamilton's troops, who far outnumbered the Canadians, descended into chaos. One troop got lost. Others fired at each other. Eventually they retreated to their camp in Chateaugay.

Hamilton's officers figured, had their boos been competent and sober, they would have won Montreal and possible all of Canada.

Good thing we didn't succeed. How else would we have gotten our poutine, eh?

Related articles--see complete works citations below. All info from Historical Sketches.

• Malone: The War of 1812: Part 1

The Pound: Malone's Early Years

Poor Pig in Malone's Pound

Do you know anything about Malone's first pounds?

Malone's first pound had nothing to do with stray dogs or cats, rather it confined stray cows, pigs and sheep. Certain barnyards were designated as pounds. The first official pound was established at the northeast corner of Academy Green, and the final one was built on the corner of Rockland and Main Streets. The latter pound closed somewhere around 1866.

If citizens found a barnyard animal roaming the streets or eating a garden, they could drive it to the pound, and according to Fredrick Seaver, the owners had to  pay a quarter to retrieve it. In our early years, a quarter would have been a substantial sum.

The pound keeper had to be elected--and he became the butt of jokes. In the fifties, the editors of Malone's two papers, The Palladium and The Gazette were named as opponents for the office of "hog reeve" (pg. 413 Historical Sketches).

Sounds like a cartoon Thomas Nast would have loved. What do you know of Malone's early history?

Malone: The Beginning

English: Armory, Malone (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

As we look out the window, not daring to take a step outside on these frigid winter days, it's easy to see why Malone had been called the Siberia of the North. The forested landscape and hills as they rolled down from the Adirondacks, were as beautiful then as they are today. However, no one wanted it. Not even the Indians.

In 1791, a section of New York called the Macomb Purchas was made. This was the Old Military Tract of about four million acres. Richard Harison bought the middle tract, and thus Malone had its beginnings.

Portrait of John Jay (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Richard Harison was a frined of John Jay's (a governor of New York from 1795-1801) and was once a law partner of Alexander Hamilton's, as well as a friend of George Washington.

The first settlers who came to Malone in 1802 were Enos, Nathan and John Wood, three brothers who had fought in the war for Independence. Noel Conger and Noah Moody followed shortly after. They, along with others, came from the Vermont corridor. These first settlers cane "with devotion to home, with belief in the church and the school and with fidelity to conscience" (Seaver, Historical Sketches 14).

The young town grew up around Main and Webster Streets, and you can see the historical marker of Harison's home next to Davis School on Webster.

Our town, erected in 1805, was originally named Harison, but he settlement along the river was more frequently called the Center. In 1808 Harison changed its name to Ezraville after his friend Ezra L'Hommedieu. Eventually it was named Malone after Edmund Malone and eminent "Irish Shakespearean scholar" and another friend of Harison's.

And today, people complain about the lack of activities in Malone. Today, as in 1805, aside from churches and government, no other organization existed. A situation soon to be rectified.

Coming next week: early growth.

Dutch Schultz: The Malone Trial

Dutch Schultz (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

After living as a free man for his Malone trial, Dutch Schultz was remanded to jail on July 23, 1935. For the first day, he had to endure the same food as the other prisoners. This included sardines, boiled potatoes and cabbage, tea or water--certainly not the fare we serve today. However, after the first day, Schultz could order out.

The jurors for Schultz's trial included many names still prominent in the area today:

1. Arthur Quinn from Malone--a farmer
2. Hollis Child from Malone--a farmer--his daughter stated her father said, "(t)he majority, seven jurors, felt that Judge Bryant brought the trial up here so he'd have a bunch of dumb farmers, and get what he wanted." (Adirondack Life,  August 1991, p. 30).
3. Ralph E. Westcott from Malone--a farmer
4. Hugh F. McMahon from Malone--a farmer
5. L.P. Quinn from Tupper Lake--school superintendent
6. Charles Bruce from Santa Clara--a manager
7. Leon A. Chapin from Bangor--a farmer--and the foreman of the jury
8. John Ellsworth from Ft. Covington--a farmer--the last to hold out for acquittal
9. Arthur J. Riedel from Malone--a baker and related to the baseball commissioner
10. Hugh Maneeley from Malone--a farmer
11. Floyd Brown from Owls Head--a farmer
12. Frank Lobdell from Saranac Lake--a guide

His defense team:

1. James M. Noonan
2. J. Richard "Dixie" Davis--“whose task was made more tolerable by the presence of a very well-endowed, red-headed show-girl name Hope Dare, who became the center of attraction and distraction in the crowded courtroom during the trial” (Franklin County Historical Review, vol 12, 1975, page 24). He eventually married and then divorced her.
3. George Moore from Malone
4. Robert G. "Bud" Main from Malone

The prosecution:

1. Martin Conboy--a protege of Thomas Dewey who had vowed to get Schultz/in order to undo the travesty of his earlier trials.
2. John Burke Jr.

The judge was a former Malone resident: Judge Frederich H. Bryant

For a while, it appeared this jury would be deadlocked. At 7:30 p.m., Aug. 1 as word leaked out of a 9-3 decision for acquittal. Later, only one juror held out against acquittal, John Ellsworth. After 28 hours and 20 minutes, the jury came back with a not-guilty verdict.

Judge Bryant “who was visibly astonished, disappointed and thoroughly exasperated. In fact, he practically ‘lost his cool.’ ‘Your verdict,’ he declared, ‘Is such that it shakes the confidence of law-abiding citizens in integrity and truth. It will be apparent to all who followed the evidence in this case that you have reached a verdict not on the evidence but on some other reason. You will go home with the satisfaction, if it is indeed a satisfaction, that you have rendered a blow against law enforcement and given aid and encouragement to people who would flout the law. In all probability they will commend you. I cannot!’” (Franklin County Review, vol 12, pg. 27).

In the answer to last week's quiz, the Rev. John R. Williams, the pastor of the First Congregational Church, made the national news as he spoke out against Schultz. He said, “the tendency of certain humans to desert spiritual for material gains” (p. 25 Franklin Historical Review, vol 12, 1975), he found it deplorable “that men in high places would fawn over gangsters and that communities would hail them with rejoicing because their arrival meant money.” (Kill the Dutchman, p. 245)

Quiz: How did Schultz's win turn out to be his loss?

Next week: the fallout from the trial

Related articles

• The Dutch Schultz and Malone: Part 1
• Bootlegging In Malone
• Bootlegging Buffoonery

The Dutch Schultz and Malone: Part 1

Prohibition ended in 1933, but Malone's last hurrah with it came in the summer of 1935 when the gangster Dutch Schultz came to town.

Schultz, whose real name was Arthur Flegenheimer, made his fortune bootlegging. He dodged $92,000 in taxes on $481,000 income. He said he was told he didn’t have to pay taxes on it because it was illegal income.

Judge Bryant, a native of Malone, decided to take him to his home town because he believed Schultz could be convicted. Unfortunately, the jurors disagreed. According to Jean Child, daughter of one of the jurors, Hollis Child, "(t)he majority, seven jurors, felt that Judge Bryant brought the trial up here so he'd have a bunch of dumb farmers, and get what he wanted." (Adirondack Life,  August 1991, p. 30).

In July, members of Schultz's mob began migrating to Malone. They took up residence in the Flanagan Hotel--a suite of rooms on the fourth floor for Schultz, the first floor for the defense team which included local lawyer, Bud Main. Immediately the gangsters began to buy the town.

Schultz arrived on July 17, 1935 with his chauffeur and body-guard, Lulu Rosencrantz.

He played up his role as a wonderful, misunderstood man by making sure:

1. People knew he served as a deputy sheriff at Long Lake. He had, at one time, for about six months.
2. Was seen with locals such as Harold Main and Mayor Ralph Cardinal
3. He went horseback riding with Main's son Robert. There were stables behind his house on Elm St.Young Main and Schultz would ride along a bridle path by the Salmon River.
4. He'd pick up tabs for everyone in bars such as the Hillview and other nightspots.
5. He'd leave $100 tips in restaurants.
6. He'd buy new jerseys for our baseball teams. At this time we had a semi-pro team named the Stars that appeared to play at the Fairgrounds. Schultz shared Mayor Cardinal's box seat.
7. He'd bring toys to children

And the town loved him, seeing him solely as a man on trial for tax evasion. Even though he was known as a bootlegger, most people, especially near the end of Prohibition, had made and/or sold their own liquor, so they saw Schultz as just a regular guy.

He dressed well. Was mild-mannered. And if he was so bad, why was he only being tried on tax evasion--especially as he had tried to pay the back taxes?

On July 23, 1935, his bail was revoked the trial began.

Answers to last weeks quiz: Who were the two gangsters in the North Country? Obviously, Dutch Schultz in Malone. The other was in Saranac Lake--Legs Diamond.

Next quiz: Which local person made national headlines speaking against Schultz and Malone's buyout?

Related articles

• Bootlegging In Malone
• Bootlegging Buffoonery
• Bootlegging: Then and Now
• Moonshine Madness: The Source of Prohibition Alcohol

Bootlegging Buffoonery

1931 Packard 833: it'd be a shame to
shoot up this beauty.

Information for this article was found in: Mooney, Elizabeth C. "War on Rum Road." Adirondack Life. November 1980.

Buffoonery in Rumrunning? Yes, some of the things people did in the name of booze was quite funny. And there were no shortages of risk takers seeing as $240 in Canadian hootch netted the running $700 in NYC. A quite handsome Canadian exchange!

Getting to Canada, in those days, was quite easy...head to a neighbor's farm and drive over the back pasture. Voila. Load up your Packard and head on down to the Big Apple.

But what if a revenuer or Malone's Black Horse caught on to you?

1. through the lever on the dashboard and lay down a smoke-screen. OR
2. press the air compressor throttle and throw up dust. OR
3. lay down an oil slick. OR
4. aim for the prohi (fed) OR

if all else failed, go low tech--toss out the nails and broken glass you stored on the passenger seat. That would flatten any tire.

Fortunately for the bootleggers--the troopers didn't have cars in the early years. Your nemesis road a horse and Troop B of the NY State Police was known as the Black Horse Troop. They patrolled the border in pairs. The Captain of these troopers only had a general idea where their officers were. The bootleggers, via their underground network, knew to a man, where they hid.

Synonyms for the Black Horse Troop:

• dressed up Boy Scouts



Map showing Rouses Point, New York (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

• gun-toting tin soldiers

What happened when a roadblock netted a bad guy?

The car was put up for auction, and guess who usually bought it? At least the troopers got some revenue.

How'd the revenuers get rid of the booze?

• In Rouses Point they tried flushing it down the toilet. But like today, flushing stuff not supposed to go in the sewer had dire consequences. The sewer line burst. It's said the railroad tracks in Rouses Point ran with rum.



"Whiskey Gully" (my name) on Webster St.

• In Malone, uncorroborated reports say Canadian whiskey was dumped on Webster St. About a mile up from Route 11 a gully tuns down toward what is now Wilcox St. and the Rec Park. Supposedly lots of booze got jettisoned there. (I think it's time for a walk to look for some wayward bottles. Should be appropriately aged by now).

And I'll close with a quiz:

Who was the beer baron associated with Saranac Lake?

Who was the beer baron known in Malone?

The answers next week.

Bootlegging: Then and Now

1930 Model "A" Ford - Deluxe Fordor Blindback #170-B (Photo credit: Timothy Wildey)

Wending my way to Ellenburg, I run into an old friend, Sgt. Martin (or whatever you call the border guys). He sports Elvis-styled sideburns and a gun. Yikes. You know I stop, not because I'm an Elvis fan. We meet on a regular basis--either on Rt. 11 of 190.

 Fortunately, Sgt. Elvis isn't interested in me or what I'm toting in my suitcase. He's looking for drugs or aliens (of the earthling persuasion), and he knows this old granny doesn't fit the profile of a drug runner.

And speaking of profiles, Sgt. Elvis fits that of North Country law enforcement fighting the opportunism of a rural border which allows good to happen--like the runaway slaves and the Underground Railroad--as well as bad.

But my tale deals with Prohibition which became law on November 18, 1918, and according to Del Forkey in the Sesqui-centennial of Malone: 1802-1952, "...a complete history of this region's part in the 'dry era' would contain some rather stirring, blood-flecked pages, including everything in the rum-toting category from bootlegging and high-jacking to running gun fights through the streets of peaceful villages" (87).

Ouch. And Sgt. Elvis thinks we have it bad.

The bootleggers means of hiding booze aren't different from drug hiding today--in the woman's bloomers (which is why they grope us in airports), baby diapers, false doors in their cars. And they loved BIG cars (carried more Mountain Dew aka hootch). Some bootleggers became such good drivers they could spin the car around and then aim for the law officers. Or they'd use decoy cars--autos that would speed off in an opposite direction allowing the one loaded with white lightening to flee.

 I love this stunt the best. A bootlegger would get through the road blocks and then be hijacked by another bootlegger who now didn't have to face the 1920's Sgt. Elvis.


 These booze runners were depraved. One even went so far as to dodge rabbits skittering across the roads, but he'd aim his car at law enforcement officials.


 Forkey claimed most of the villains were outsiders like the infamous Mobster Dutch Shultz and Legs Diamond. I'm not so sure. Many arrested for drug dealing aren't native, but many are. And we must remember:
     

     What has been will be again,
   what has been done will be done again;
   there is nothing new under the sun. Eccl. 1:9

The Border Conundrum: Bootlegging in Malone

     Wending my way to Ellenburg, I run into an old friend, Sgt. Martin (or whatever you call the border guys). He sports Elvis-styled sideburns and a gun. Yikes. You know I stop, not because I'm an Elvis fan. We meet on a regular basis--either on Rt. 11 of 190.
    Fortunately, Sgt. Elvis isn't interested in me or what I'm toting in my suitcase. He's looking for drugs or aliens (of the earthling persuasion),
and he knows this old granny doesn't fit the profile of a drug runner.
     And speaking of profiles, Sgt. Elvis fits that of North Country law enforcement fighting the opportunism of a rural border which allows good to happen--like the runaway slaves and the Underground Railroad--as well as bad.
     But my tale deals with Prohibition which became law on November 18, 1918, and according to Del Forkey in the Sesqui-centennial of Malone: 1802-1952, "...a complete history of this region's part in the 'dry era' would contain some rather stirring, blood-flecked pages, including everything in the rum-toting category from bootlegging and high-jacking to running gun fights through the streets of peaceful villages" (87).
     Ouch. And Sgt. Elvis thinks we have it bad.
      The bootleggers means of hiding booze aren't different from drug hiding today--in the woman's bloomers (which is why they grope us in airports), baby diapers, false doors in their cars. And they loved BIG cars (carried more Mountain Dew aka hootch). Some bootleggers became such good drivers they could spin the car around and then aim for the law officers. Or they'd use decoy cars--autos that would speed off in an opposite direction allowing the one loaded with white lightening to flee.
      I love this stunt the best. A bootlegger would get through the road blocks and then be hijacked by another bootlegger who now didn't have to face the 1920's Sgt. Elvis.
     These booze runners were depraved. One even went so far as to dodge rabbits skittering across the roads, but he'd aim his car at law enforcement officials.
     Forkey claimed most of the villains were outsiders like the infamous Mobster Dutch Shultz and Legs Diamond. I'm not so sure. Many arrested for drug dealing aren't native, but many are. And we must remember:
    

     What has been will be again,
   what has been done will be done again;
   there is nothing new under the sun. Eccl. 1:9

Tyranny of the Quick Fix

Image by jimmywayne via Flickr

     Malone, NY, I do love thee...but have you learned the tyranny of the quick fix? We look for easy ways out of problems and so we bring in prisons. Oh the economy will revive.
     Nope. Just brought in prison families and lots of convicts who clog the judicial system.
     We hope the casino will have a trickle down effect and build more hotels.
     Nope. Didn't work either.
     But we're not to blame--it's in our DNA. From the town's inception we've looked for the get rich quick schemes. Last week we explored the wolf head scandal...oh those dastardly dogs look so much like wolves. However, that scandal had a forerunner--espionage and fraudulent land claims.

Image by dougtone via Flickr

1. During the War of 1812 many county residents favored the British. And they discovered a benefit to that favoritism. They traded military secrets for the filthy lucre. Being a border town wasn't much different than as it is now--only today our barter is with the drug and alien trade.
2. During this time period, we had fraudulent land claims. People would state that property had been confiscated or destroyed or goods consumed. Then they received payments. Oddly, once the investigation proved the fraud, the claimants claimed they didn't know the claims were made. Oh, my bad.
3. Hops didn't do it either.

    So, you ask, this is an itty-bitty, inconsequential village in the frozen tundra, what does it have to do with me especially as it happed over 200 years ago?
     There is nothing new under the sun. How else do we try to skim the cream?
     

The Wolf Head Scandal

Image via Wikipedia     Everyone loves a good scandal, so how do we create one? We are all familiar with Dutch Shultz, but gangsters like him are either in short supply or unwanted in our communities--unless we stuff them in the prisons that decorate our outskirts of our lovely villages.

     In 1815 we discovered a great scheme that perhaps we could turn to good use today--after all, our politicians believe the ends justify the means.

     Way back in Malone/Bangor/Chateaugay's beginnings, we turned quite a profit off the "noxious" wolves and this scandal made Franklin County notorious in New York State.
  
     Prior to 1815 the state paid us approximately $1,000 per year in bounty for wolves, all we had to supply were the heads. (What government office wants the whole carcass rotting in the file cabinets?) From 1815-1820 that sum jumped to $55,269. This solved our financial problems back then--perhaps we can resurrect one in the same spirit.

     How did our forefathers alchemize wolf heads?

     1. When out of wolves--they'd been known to substitute dog heads. Okay, I know this appalls many of my readers as we do not condone chopping up Fido. A deer head had been documented as a good substitute. Who knew: deer/dog/wolf--what's the difference?

     2. If they only have one wolf head, they passed it out the window to their buddy. While the clerk still filled in the document for that head, a buddy would carry it back in and voila, more cash for the coffers.

     3. Everyone kept quiet because no one had been prosecuted for the crimes.

Maybe this is a way to lower our taxes--after all: 1. we learn from experience  2. our legislatures aren't shamed by wrong doing.