J E R R Y ' S . R I O T . A . T R U E . S T O R Y . O F . A . R E A L . P R I S O N . D I S T U R B A N C E
SKY BLUE WATERS PRESS
The Col. Ed "Bus" Ellsworth story
By ***** S. *****
Author of Jerry’s Riot: The True Story of Montana’s 1959 Prison Disturbance
In the 30 years since his last days as warden, Ed “Bus” Ellsworth had never gone inside the old prison in Deer Lodge. I coaxed him back on a raw March afternoon, anxious to hear what he could remember about the 1959 riot and its aftermath.
I was researching a book that I planned to write someday. I didn’t have a title for it because, like writers do, I was trying to find the central story. Newspaper reports of the day described the riot as “a failed escape attempt by a desperate madman.” That seemed much too predictable an explanation, and I thought Ellsworth could give me some perspective.
I knew he played a prominent role in ending the riot. I wanted him to trace the steps he took that cold starlit night on April 18, 1959, when National Guard troops stormed the cell houses to rescue 23 hostages the ringleaders had vowed to shoot, hang or burn.
Old Montana State Prison’s brick and stone facade loomed just blocks from Ellsworth’s living room window, yet in the sunset of his life, he thought of it as a distant place. At first he told me he didn’t want to go. He said he couldn’t remember much that would help me.
When I was a boy I knew him as Warden Ellsworth, an iron-disciplined man with a military buzz-cut. Being my dad’s boss, he seemed all the more unapproachable. One summer he caught me sneaking into the drive-in theater south of town. All the kids did it, once or twice anyway. My friend and I, creeping through the river willows near the drive-in, attracted attention from passing motorists who had heard news reports of two inmates escaping from a prison ranch. I don’t know if I was more scared of the warden and the tall prison guard who stood beside him with a rifle, or of my dad if he found out. Ellsworth drove us home in the back of a prison cage car, gold with a green stripe across the hood. If he ever told my dad, I didn’t hear about it, but I regretted right away that I hadn’t paid the dollar or so to see the movie.
On the day that I drove Ellsworth to the prison in my blue pickup, he didn’t mention that incident. Maybe he forgot it, but at my age I didn’t feel inclined to remind him.
He forgot his earlier hesitation when we started talking about the riot. An opportunity to set the facts straight can be powerful persuasion to an old man. I told him how I had collected hundreds of pages of documents that detailed the long federal prison career of Jerry Myles, the riot’s chief antagonist. Anyone familiar with the riot knew his name but not much else.
Until I read those records, I didn’t realize that Myles was much more than an ordinary convict. His riot wasn’t an escape attempt, as Ellsworth’s predecessor, Floyd Powell, tried to convince everyone. Myles was a psychopath, trained in America’s worst prisons. The riot in Deer Lodge mimicked a bloody outbreak he had watched at Alcatraz Island during his incarceration there, and even earlier, a mutiny he led at a federal penitentiary in Atlanta. Myles was a student of prison riots. He didn’t want to escape from Montana State Prison. He wanted attention, even if that meant dying.
When Ellsworth and I arrived at Old Montana Prison, now a museum, we met retired guard Bob McNally. He brought the key to the outside door of the northwest cell house tower, where Ellsworth led three men up the stairs to flush out Myles and Lee Smart, his teenage boyfriend. Smart, convicted of murdering a traveling salesman in northern Montana, shot and killed Deputy Warden Ted Rothe when the riot began. More than 30 hours later, as the riot crumbled, Myles and Smart retreated to the tower of Cell House 1 with two rifles they seized from catwalk guards.
McNally pried open the rusty lock. He waved his flashlight beam around the dark cavern. Plywood covered windows from the inside. Bars remained intact. Pigeon droppings matted the stairs and floors.
We climbed the narrow concrete stairs to rooms that were dark and cold and felt, in the context of our visit, like death. We crossed the landing where Myles shot and wounded Capt. Francis “Russ” Pulliam, a National Guardsman from Missoula. On the fourth floor, sunlight peeped through the broken brickwork along tall windows where two bazooka rounds hit before rifle teams charged into the prison yard. Then Ellsworth took us to the tomblike room at the top of the tower.
In a measured voice he described the murder-suicide that took place there. Before the National Guard could take them captive, Myles killed Smart and then himself. Ellsworth found the bodies. Like many other people I had interviewed, he described Myles as having no other apparent motive but to make a name for himself.
“It was his riot,” Ellsworth told me.
Suddenly the meaning of that riot jumped out at me from documents, interviews and photographs. Yes, the story was about guards and prisoners caught in violence. Yes, it was about the failed attempts of Powell, the new warden, to reform a terrible prison. And yes, the story was about a small town in western Montana that sent generations of men to work inside the walls.
Without the tragic self-indulging Jerry Myles, however, the story didn’t exist at all.
That’s why I chose “Jerry’s Riot” as the name of my book.
As Ellsworth wandered around the old prison that day, encountering memories wherever he turned, he told me that the prison was a terrible place to work. Many guards never wanted to come back inside.
Ellsworth, a World War II veteran, former Powell County sheriff and a longtime National Guard colonel, died in 2001. Many others I interviewed are gone too: Everett Felix, the guard captain taken hostage; Victor Baldwin, another guard hostage who died recently in Deer Lodge; Elmer Erickson, the prison’s business manager at the time of the riot, and Carl Parish, a prison employee nearly captured during the takeover.
To them and many others I interviewed for Jerry’s Riot, what happened over three days in 1959 stuck to their minds like glue, but they didn’t care much for reliving their prison days.
Only Jerry Myles, it seems, wanted to stay.
Deer Lodge, Montana, April 16, 1959
Forty-nine years ago, on an afternoon when a warming wind off the mountains promised spring, Jerry Myles put in motion his plan to seize Montana State Prison. LIFE magazine would describe the event as 'one of the most desperate jail outbreaks in U.S. history,' but the real story was in fact quite different.
It starts like this:
'A board falling flat to the floor is thunder to the heart. And so it was when prison guard Clyde Sollars heard a hard clap, he stiffened in fear. For a few seconds he listened, breathless.'
What did Sollars hear? Why was he afraid?
It was April 16, 1959, in Deer Lodge, Montana. Few people at the prison knew much about Myles, a bull of a man built on tiny feet. Most of the guards didn't know about his extensive prison career, which included time at three federal penitentiaries: USP Atlanta, Alcatraz Island, and USP Leavenworth. Myles came to Montana State Prison on purpose. He had no intention of escaping.
'Prison is my home,' he told sociologist Walter Jones Jr.
When the riot began, Warden Floyd Powell and a few other Montana officials tried to spin it as a misguided escape attempt. But why would Myles want to leave?
Myles was a confirmed psychopath. He wanted attention and got it. The reasons lie deep in his tattered childhood. The dangerous old bastille in Deer Lodge, a fixture there since territorial days, gave him the perfect stage.
All about writing Jerry's Riot: Readers often ask how I found the high level of detail that appears in Jerry’s Riot: The True Story of Montana’s 1959 Prison Disturbance.
How to buy Jerry's Riot
Jerry's Riot is the definitive story of a prison riot that attracted attention on front pages across the country in 1959. More than just a book about a historical event, Jerry's Riot is a rare inside look at a real prison disturbance and the men on both sides of the bars. You can purchase Jerry's Riot by clicking on the "order here" button below. That will link you with an order form at www.booklocker.com, a secure site. Jerry's Riot also is available though other online sites like Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Powell's Books. In Montana, the book is for sale at Old Prison Museum gift shop and Browsing Bison Books, both in Deer Lodge, and at other book stores.
Did you know?/Real-life prison history
Before he came to Montana State Prison for burglary, Jerry Myles was considered a dangerous federal prisoner who spent several years at Alcatraz Island. Here's an actual report written about his conduct in 1948. Special Progress Report U.S. Penitentiary Alcatraz Island, California Richard Arthur Myles Age 33 August 1948 Subject is serving a sentence of 10 years, 1 month, 5 days and 20 months for Transporting a Stolen Automobile in interstate Commerce; Transporting Stolen Securities in interstate Commerce and Conspiracy to Mutiny, imposed Dec. 14, 1942, Jan. 19, 1943 and April 27, 1945. He is eligible for conditional release on May 20, 1954. He was received in transfer from [United States Penitentiary] Atlanta on May 8, 1945. Reports indicated that he was one of the leaders in the mutiny in the Special Treatment Unit in December, 1944, at which time prisoners armed with razors, knives and other dangerous weapons took control of the building and held four officers as hostages on threat of death. He has forfeited all statutory good time, 1211 days on the sentence of 10 years, 1 month and 5 days. The sentence of 20 months begins on January 18, 1953. He has received six reports for misconduct. Reports include: Taking extra rolls at breakfast, insolence and refusing to work; Leaving cell before signal; Disobeying orders, Not having collar buttoned, insolence to an officer; Contraband, part of razor blade found in his cell and last report, dated 4-21-48, being in an intoxicated condition in the laundry from drinking home brew. He has worked in the Tailor Shop, Laundry Brush Shop, Cellhouse orderly and since July 15, 1948 he has worked occasionally as a painter in the cellhouse. The Officer in charge of the painting detail states that he is a fair worker, but likes to pick his work if possible; Friendly with fellow workers; clean in personal habits; inclined to be a complainer; likes to talk, however has not been heard to agitate on the job; complains that paint fumes affect his health and that the Doctor advised him to keep away from paint. The Cellhouse Officer states that subject’s cell is kept in fair condition; is rather untidy; likes to “play around” and his bed is not made according to the sample bed. Medical Report: Constant caller at sick-line for multiplicity of minor complaints. Has a skin rash which appears now and then. Hard work seems good for this condition and subject requests that he be assigned to difficult work calling for physical exertion. Has an anxiety neurosis, remissions and exacerbations. Self centered and emotionally unstable. Chaplain reports: Reads quite extensively in detective and realistic fiction. No study courses but lead musical playing in chapel for over a year. Has some musical ability and is intellectually capable. Tends to be a non-conformist. Cooperates well if diplomatically made to feel some authority. Has sematic complaints which are no doubt products of an inferior attitude of mind. He appeared before the Classification Committee on August 20, 1948 and requested assignment to difficult tasks requiring physical exertion which helped eradicate a skin rash. Recommendations: Continue present program. This man has made some improvement in his adjustment but is rather unstable. No transfer indicated.
This is the northwest tower of Cellhouse 1 where Jerry Myles and Lee Smart hid near the end of the riot. Crushed brick beside the top window shows where two bazooka rounds hit as Montana National Guard troops started their assault on the prison. Myles and Smart made their last stand in the windowless room just above the one where the rounds hit. The cellhouse remains today just as seen. 
|
