Death Row All Stars Read online

  On Monday, July 24, 1911, the front page of the Washington Post ran a story about the Wyoming State Penitentiary’s newly formed ball club and their first game. The story centered on the player that helped the penitentiary team to their first win. “With a murderer condemned to death as the right fielder, and other members of the opposing team convicts, the Wyoming Supply Company ball club put up a classy game against the Alstons, losing, however by the score of eleven to one,” the article touted. “Joseph Seng, right fielder for the Alstons, is under sentence to be hanged. Seng made two home run hits over the penitentiary wall. One of his hits cleared the bases bringing in three others and scoring himself.”

  Warden Alston’s critics were keeping a watchful eye on his reforms—and especially on the baseball team. Warden Alston would come to realize that the task at hand was even more contentious and daunting than expected.

  Chapter Two

  The Captain and the Critic

  Sheep rancher Joe Emge woke up fast from a fitful slumber late on a chilly night in early April 1909 near Spring Creek, Wyoming. There was no light inside the wagon where he and one of his ranch hands had bedded down. When the darkness around him began to break up, he saw the dim, blurred outline of a man standing over him. Joe strained to focus on the object the imposing figure was pointing at him. When he realized the object was a six-­shooter, it was too late.1

  Cattleman George Saban pulled the trigger back on his .35 automatic and fired a shot into Joe’s face. He quickly pulled the trigger back again and slapped the hammer with his left hand; it was the fastest way to get off several more shots. His objective was to kill not only Joe but also the other man in the wagon. It was a job the gunman dispatched with ease and no regret.2

  Saban jumped out of the vehicle and stood in a pool of light cast by a smoldering campfire. He heard gunfire erupting inside a second wagon close by, and he turned to see what had happened.3

  Joe Allemand, a sheep rancher with a bullet hole in his back, stumbled out of the second wagon, picked himself up, and staggered away from the scene, his hands in the air. Two more gunmen, Herb Brink and Ed Eaton, stepped out of the wagon behind him. Herb leveled his Winchester at Joe and fired. Joe lurched forward and fell hard in the dirt, dead. “It’s a hell of a time at night to come out with your hands up,” Herb quipped.4

  Herb marched over to a stand of sagebrush, snapped off a branch, and lit it from the campfire. The brush crackled and snapped as it burned. He held it up in the air and watched the flame grow, then tossed it under the wagon nearest him. In a matter of moments the vehicle was engulfed in fire. George followed Herb’s lead, grabbing dry vegetation and fueling the flames licking the wheels of the wagon.5

  As the three men watched the fire burn and consume the vehicles and the gear around them, they heard the report of another series of gunshots in the near distance. Four of George and Herb’s cohorts had unloaded their weapons into a large herd of sheep. The few animals that managed to escape scattered, bleating loudly as they ran away.6

  George walked over to his horse, which was tied to an old, rain-­bleached post, and lifted himself into the saddle as though he hadn’t a care in the world. He nudged his ride away from the chaos and trotted off into the shadows of the landscape, leaving the others to follow after him.7

  On April 3, 1909, Felix Alston, then the Big Horn County sheriff, arrived at the scene with a few deputies in tow. He found Allemand’s body lying near the smoldering embers of his wagon with one of his sheep dog’s puppies curled up on his chest. The burned bodies of Emge and his ranch hand were among the charred vehicles as well.8

  The brutal murders were the product of an ongoing feud between Wyoming cattlemen and sheep ranchers over the use of rangeland grass. Cattle owners had long shown their intolerance for the encroaching wave of sheepmen eager to take advantage of the opportunities of the open range. The cattlemen claimed the land was for their specific use based on land-­use terms drawn up in territorial days. Anyone who challenged the cattle ranchers’ claims to their proprietary use of the resources of the plains was dealt with harshly.9

  Scenes such as the one that Sheriff Alston was investigating that April morning were all too common. And justice for the perpetrators was all too rare, partly because they were often some of the most influential men in the area. “We know who some of the participants were, but had no bona fide evidence,” Alston wrote in his memoirs. “There are many depredations committed against the sheepmen. Thousands of sheep killed and left to rot on the plains, a number of sheepherders murdered.”10

  A number of popular saloons and gambling dens lined Front Street in Rawlins, Wyoming, in 1911. Wyoming State Archives, Dept. of State Parks & Cultural Resources

  Seven men, all prominent Big Horn County stockmen, were eventually arrested for the crime and were placed on trial in mid-­October 1909.11 According to the October 19, 1909, edition of the Montana newspaper the Anaconda Standard, the arrests of the men came as the result of “an investigation started by the Wyoming Wool Growers Association.” Members of the Wool Growers Association had little trust in the efforts of county officials. Many of those officials were cattlemen, and the association doubted that the region’s law enforcement agents could perform their duties in an unbiased manner.12 That doubt extended to Sheriff Alston, who himself had come to Wyoming in 1892 in search of a “new and more fruitful range for his cattle.”13 The Wyoming Wool Growers Association initially hired Pinkerton detective Joe LeFlores to investigate the Spring Creek Raid, but ultimately it was Sheriff Alston who apprehended the killers, including George Saban.14

  Even after an escape attempt was thwarted while the perpetrators were on bail awaiting trial, the accused were still convinced that the cases against them would be dropped because sheep raiders were generally not prosecuted, but a jury found them guilty of murder.15 Saban was sentenced to more than twenty years in prison and was ordered to serve his time at the state penitentiary in Rawlins.16

  Fifteen months after Saban began serving his sentence, Alston, the sheriff responsible for his arrest, was hired on as the warden of the facility.17 In May 1911, when Warden Alston formed the penitentiary baseball club, he made Saban the team captain.18 Historian Duane Shillinger speculates that the State Board of Charities and Reform pressured Warden Alston to give Saban special treatment in prison—including letting him participate in a work release program and play on the baseball team. Many prominent cattlemen and politicians, after all, viewed his crimes as necessary for the survival of cattle ranching. There may have been another reason as well. According to the warden’s grandson, Scott Alston, Saban, a longtime neighbor of the Alstons and a guest at Felix’s 1900 wedding, was the warden’s closest friend.

  Felix Alston served as penitentiary warden from 1911 to 1919. Wyoming State Archives, Dept. of State Parks & Cultural Resources

  Otto Gramm was suspicious of the influence cattlemen had on the State Board of Charities and Reform and on Warden Alston. Still irritated by Governor Joseph Carey’s decision to terminate his role with the lessee program, Gramm paid close attention to the situation at the prison in hopes of acquiring evidence of wrongdoing and using the knowledge as leverage to reinstate the lessee program and get himself reappointed head of the profitable venture.19

  By June 1911 Gramm had begun the process of transferring the duties of running the Laramie Broom Company to L. W. Senville.20 The lessee program had ended, and rumors of reform permeated the cells and mess hall at the penitentiary. Inmates discussed the need for better food, uniforms, and both recreational and educational programs.21 Articles in the penitentiary newsletter addressed inmates’ concerns about how law-­abiding citizens would react to convicts participating in activities that would take them off prison grounds for a time. Who George Saban and Warden Alston would select for the baseball team and when the team would be ready for a game, and whether the public would accept them, were
other topics of great speculation.22

  Inmate #1441 George Saban, Team Manager. Wyoming State Archives, Dept. of State Parks & Cultural Resources

  Saban had been in prison more than a year, awaiting an answer on an appeal to overturn his conviction on the grounds that his guilty plea had been obtained under duress, when Warden Alston enlisted his leadership skills for the baseball team. If not for Saban’s physical challenges (two of the fingers on his left hand had been amputated at the second joint, and two fingers on his right hand had been amputated at the third joint), he might have been an exceptional player and not just the team captain.23 But he was a logical choice for captain nonetheless, as the respect Saban had among many of the cattlemen in the community was shared by the inmates at the penitentiary. He was considered by his partners in crime as an old cowman, well suited for the job of attacking sheepherders who dared bring their animals into the cattle region.24 Some prison guards and prison officials felt the same way about him.

  Saban was one of the prisoners assigned to road improvement work. Guards daily led the inmate work crew to sections of roads in Rawlins that needed to be repaired and escorted them back to their cells in the evenings. Because several guards, whose families were in the cattle business, believed his actions against the sheepherders were justified and the sentence imposed too harsh, Saban was allowed to leave the detail dressed in civilian clothing and frequent popular gambling dens when he pleased.25

  Warden Alston was hopeful that his prison ball club would be received as the hometown favorite. Patrons of gambling parlors along the South Front–East Fifth Street railroad crossing in Rawlins looked forward to the day when the team was organized. The earlier the odds­makers could evaluate the players, the better idea they had about how much to wager on the team. Customers who frequented establishments such as Wolf’s, the Senates, the Elkhorn, and the Alhambra followed the baseball clubs that came up against the Rawlins team, scrutinized their weaknesses and strengths, and bet appropriately.26 And some of them may have had inside information from prisoner and team captain George Saban.

  Chapter Three

  Outlaw in the Infield

  Few spectators would have bet against Joseph Seng when he was catching for All Stars pitcher Thomas Cameron.1 Cameron, a twenty-­year-­old coal miner and native of Tennessee, had a terrific fastball and was a good hitter.2 Seng, the standout performer on the team, signaled the talented pitcher on what throw to use. Under Seng’s direction Cameron struck out the majority of batters that faced him.3

  Born in Allentown, Pennsylvania, in 1882, Seng came from a large German family.4 His father, Anthony Seng, was a proud man who had been born in Baden, Germany. He moved to the United States with his parents in 1878 and married Anna Sapple in the Sacred Heart of Jesus Parish in 1880. All of Anthony and Anna’s children were christened at the parish.5 Just before the turn of the century, Joseph Seng had been a laborer at one of the textile mills in the area. From 1903 to 1908 he resided in New York, and some history records indicate he worked for a prominent railroad line as a detective.6 Then, after a brief visit with his parents in Allentown in the summer of 1908, the twenty-­six-­year-­old Seng departed for points west.7

  The Union Pacific Railroad was the leading employer in Wyoming in the 1900s. Wyoming State Archives, Dept. of State Parks & Cultural Resources

  Baseball had always been part of Seng’s life. According to notes made by his spiritual advisor, Rev. Peter Masson of the Sacred Heart of Jesus Parish in Allentown, Joseph had a “natural aptitude for baseball, but never displayed ambition for much else.” Still, he didn’t appear to be much of a troublemaker. In fact, the brown-­haired, blue-­eyed Seng was a diminutive five-­foot-­five and was said to have a very moderate temper.8 “He never shied away from long hours on the job,” Rev. Masson continued, “and was mindful to give an employer all that was required of him and then some.”

  After Seng stepped off the train in Rawlins, Wyoming, in July 1908, he walked to one of the saloons just beyond the railroad tracks. Rev. Masson’s notes about the letters he received from Seng painted a picture of his visit to the saloon:

  When he entered the business he heard the sound of chips clinking from a side room. A bartender was behind the bar pouring drinks. Patrons were scattered about talking and laughing. Joseph found a spot at a table and sat down. He ordered something to drink while studying the “help wanted” section of a newspaper left behind on the chair next to him.

  Customers filtered in and out of the establishment, some exchanged a word or two with a couple of men near the bar. Before walking away from the men the patrons handed them money. Like many saloons throughout the West, gamblers had staked out their territory and were enticing people to wager on boxing and wrestling matches, horse races and political races.9

  A reading of the Rawlins Republican between May and June 1908 might have led to the conclusion that there was wide interest in stamping out vice in the region—or at least regulating it for the better of the community. In fact, gambling had been outlawed statewide in 1902, but in many communities, it was still widely accepted and officials followed a strict policy of pretending not to notice the poker games and bookmakers in local saloons. The Rawlins Republican revealed the ambivalence about the prohibition of gambling and prostitution. “This paper is opposed to gambling,” a May 13, 1908, editorial read.

  Nothing can be said in its favor; but we can’t approve of the action of the county authorities in putting the lid on it just at this time. In as much as it was prompted by a desire to get even with a few who opposed them in the primaries, had this action been taken months ago it could have been defeated. Coming at this time all thinking people will understand its political significance.

  The county and prosecuting attorney, disgruntled by defeat at the last election, have taken it upon themselves to try and rid certain sections of the city of gambling and deplete the treasury to the tune of over twelve thousand dollars a year, to say nothing of the individual losses the program will entail. As a consequence public improvements so far as the city is concerned will have to be discontinued; expenses will have to be cut in almost every conceivable way, and the great majority of our merchants will experience a sudden and serious decline in business. . . .

  So far as the inmates of houses of prostitution are concerned they should be regulated and that is all. The highest practical civilizations on earth recognize such institutions as necessary evils and it is possible that great harm [to the economy] will result if these people are forced to leave the city.

  This newspaper is opposed to gambling but do not favor its abolition at this time. We do not believe that gambling should be made a political issue. . . . From a monetary point of view gambling is a good thing for Rawlins—it puts money in the treasury and improves the city. Consequently, since those who gamble are not necessarily heads of families and have only themselves to look out for, and since those who gamble will gamble regardless . . . we can’t see why the city and its individual enterprises should suffer.10

  According to the July 20, 1908, edition of the Carbon County Journal, “residents throughout Wyoming challenged the law as unconstitutional” and noted that the “penalty provided [which was sometimes five to ten years in prison] was excessive and inhumane.”

  According to Rev. Masson, Seng absorbed the scene in the saloon as a few more eager individuals conducted gambling business with the men at the end of the bar, and then he went on his way. After the brief stop in Rawlins, Seng traveled more than two hundred miles west to the town of Evanston in Uinta County, near the Utah border.11 In Evanston, Seng rented a room from a lodger named Moroni Ewer, who was also of German extraction and was originally from Pennsylvania. The fifty-­five-­year-­old Ewer worked for the Union Pacific Railroad as a laborer and was married with two children.12

  The town of Evanston was bustling due to the influence of the railroad—Evanston w
as “the end of the tracks.” The Union Pacific Railroad machine shop and roundhouse was located just outside of town. The facility offered a convenient location for steam locomotives to fill up on coal and water. The roundhouse was used to service locomotives. The massive circular workstation featured a turntable that enabled access to engines and cars being stored or repaired. The roundhouse and machine shop combined employed 125 people, and the railroad line was always in need of new workers.13 Seng was hired on as a watchman, perhaps because of his earlier experience in New York.14

  At the end of a long workday, Seng and the other railroad agents would have flocked to the gaming houses that were just as abundant in Evanston as they were in Rawlins. Some politicians and some community members wanted the houses shut down because they believed that gambling was immoral, degraded communities, and led to violent crime. However, some prominent public figures such as Governor Joseph Carey were rumored to have enjoyed placing wagers on horses.15 In fact, he raised racehorses on his twenty-­one-­thousand acre CY Ranch south of Fort Casper with his brothers, Dr. John Carey and R. Davis Carey. The brothers ran forty thousand head of cattle and five hundred head of horses on their spread, and C-­Y Ranch horses participated in endurance races from Evanston, Wyoming, to Denver, Colorado.16 Governor Carey’s peers, believing he had a history of betting on the races, felt he was being hypocritical by opting to enforce antigambling laws.17