Journal Notes

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The Death Row All Stars: A Story of Baseball, Corruption, and Murder

What the heck has happened to our formerly pastoral pastimes? Sports in this country. Owners are rapacious and disloyal, players are spoiled, ill-mannered lowlifes, coaches are abusive psychopaths, hotdogs are $9.50…

It seems the level of sportsmanship in America is dropping faster than the balance in Prince Harry’s kid’s trust fund. If I see one more athlete make a routine play and do a wild banshee itchy dance I’m going to hurl myself into a trash compactor. And today’s fans aren’t much better either. Their rudeness makes it impossible to go to the stadium and enjoy the game. For example, why is it at every football game, even in Buffalo, where it’s twenty below in the sun, there’s always that guy in the stands with no shirt on?

And you know, the guy that takes his shirt off at the football game is always the guy that really really shouldn’t. Not only should this guy be wearing a shirt, he should be wearing a bra. He is why shirts were invented in the first place. He’s a huge man with large breasts, folks, and he’s standing on his chair with a giant beer in one hand a pile of nachos in the other, no plate, just nachos in his hand, and he’s screaming out the names of the players on the field. And the announcers say, “There’s a real Bill’s fan, he’s painted his body Buffalo Blue.” Hey, that’s not paint, the guy’s dying of exposure.

The inmates who played for the Death Row All Stars were good sports on the field. They patted each other on the back when they made a good play and they occasionally cheered for their teammates. They spurred one another on in a dignified manner because their very lives depended on a win. Wins meant stays of execution. They had to be magnanimous winners because there was no way for them to be gracious losers. I’d like to see some magnanimous winners and gracious losers in sports today. I’ve seen too many shirtless guys in the stands whose cup-size are larger than mine.

To learn more about the prison inmates who played ball for their lives in 1911 read

The Death Row All Stars: A Story of Baseball, Corruption, and Murder.

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The Death Row All Stars: A Story of Baseball, Corruption, and Murder

The Death Row All Stars at Play

The Death Row All Stars had serious incentive to play baseball at Wyoming’s Crossbar Hotel. If they won they were given stays of execution. I would like to have seen them play. I like baseball, especially the Kansas City Royals, but it’s not as exciting as football. Just saying.

Truth be told, baseball is slower than Joe Biden trying to master trigonometry. Many people think baseball is a metaphor for life. What I want to know is whose life are they talking about? Last time I checked, life didn’t seem to last for an eternity. Life is short; baseball goes on forever.

Let’s face it, not much happens in baseball. Abner Doubleday gets credited with inventing the game, but Harold Pinter was the one who did punch up. The only thing worse than a bad baseball game is realizing that you have to stay until everybody leaves because you can’t remember where you parked.

Now football, that’s fast paced and probably why it’s replaced baseball as the number one pastime. I have one suggestion for baseball if they want to get back into the hunt. There’s a lot of unused space in the alley between right and center field. Why not have a football game going on out there to keep the fans occupied during some of the longer lulls in the baseball game.

There were very few lulls in a game in which the Death Row All Stars played. Even in practices, the Death Row All Stars played with gusto and even temperament. They worked together as one cohesive unit and made the sport look like the easiest game in the world. They seemed to cherish the smell of the leather glove, the snap of the ball smacking their palms, the sensation of letting loose a throw and kicking up a cloud of dust.

Read about the winning team in the bestselling book

The Death Row All Stars: A Story of Baseball, Corruption, and Murder

Enter now to win a copy of

The Death Row All Stars: A Story of Baseball, Corruption, and Murder

No thrill equals that which comes when a home player sends the ball ringing off his bat safely to the outfield. As the number of bases gained by such a hit increases, so does the excitement mount. When one of those drives wins a game, its maker is a hero.

The American West of the early 1900s was the scene of great change. The trans-continental railroad cut a swath through the country, pulling the population away from the East, bringing progress to and signs of the coming industrial age. Boomtowns were turning into cities; the ways of the west were disappearing and giving way to the inevitable intrusion of change. But as life became more sophisticated and industrial, a simple and pure game captured the attention of a nation.

It would become a national pastime, but in Wyoming in 1910 baseball was an obsession. Every town, every camp had leagues or teams of their own. Every team had stars that could easily play alongside Honus Wagner or Ty Cobb. But there were no baseball stars as unique as the Wyoming State Penitentiary Death Row All Stars of Rawlins, Wyoming. And the star of the All Stars, Joseph Seng.

From the moment he arrived at the penitentiary, Seng was known more for his baseball prowess than his murder conviction. Within moments of his incarceration, prison officials got around to the task of creating a team and building a place to play.

The concept of prison reform and prisoner welfare was nonexistent in 1910. Time on the field was a precious escape from day-to-day life that could be both extremely hellish and (for some) lavishly privileged. Corruption and graft ran rampant. Prisoners were forced to work for little or no wages in the prison broom factory, denied basic necessities, fed rancid food, and forced to work road crews. Others were allowed to openly wander the streets of Rawlins, hunt rabbits outside the prison walls, and reap the monetary windfall of betting on the All Stars.

For the players, baseball was their life, their saving grace. Inside their cell, they were rapists, robbers, burglars, and thieves. But on the playing field, they were fast, hard, and possessed an inside fast ball no one could hit. Primarily off the strength of Seng’s arm (and his bat), the Death Row All Stars quickly became the talk of barrooms, brothels, and even political circles. Fortunes were being made by wagering in exchange for promises of time taken off their sentences and, for Seng, the possibility of a death penalty commutation.

To learn more about Joseph Seng and his teammates read

The Death Row All Stars: A Story of Baseball, Corruption, and Murder.

Enter now to win a copy of

The Death Row All Stars:  The Story of Baseball, Corruption, and Murder

A fascinating and captivating story in which the game of baseball is a matter of life and death for the players.”

George Brett, Hall of Fame baseball player for the Kansas City Royals

Bestselling authors controversial baseball book will carry readers to the World Series. Based on the true story of the death row inmates in Wyoming in 1911 who played baseball in exchange for stays of execution, The Death Row All Stars is the tale of accused murderer Joseph Seng and the team of sluggers who took on all comers with considerably more at stake than just winning a game.

“Here’s a wild tale from the Old West, only instead of gunslingers it gives us convicted murderers, burglars, and rapists transformed into gentlemen playing the national pastime. This book puts a while new twist on the genre of a season in the life of a given team, one that seduces you into rooting for the Death Row All Stars.”

John Rosengren, author of The Fight of Their Lives and Hank Greenberg: The Hero of Heroes

“Chris Enss and Howard Kazanjian do an excellent job of portraying some of the early frontier days in Wyoming, including their favorite sport-baseball.”

“It is ironic that the Wyoming State Penitentiary in Rawlins opened for business in 1901, the same year as the American League, but that is where comparisons end between these ‘outlaw leagues. The prison ballplayers knew real pressure, facing death if their defeat cost their jailers money in lucrative bets on the prisoners. Authors Chris Enss and Howard Kazanjian do a wonderful job of recreating the era and the prison system that put these Death Row All Stars on the playing field as black hats facing local nines throughout the Wild West.”

Matthew Silverman, author of Swinging 73: Baseball’s Wildest Season and Baseball Miscellany: Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Baseball.

Published by TwoDot Books, The Death Row All Stars: A Story of Murder, Corruption, and Baseball by Howard Kazanjian and Chris Enss has been showcased in the New York Post and the Christian Science Monitor.

The Death Row All Stars is available everywhere books are sold, on

Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.com

Enter now to win a copy of The Pinks

The Pinks: The First Women Detectives, Operatives, and Spies with the Pinkerton National Detective Agency is recommended for history, women’s issues, and sociology holdings with a special interest in law enforcement as it surveys the Pinkerton Detective Agency and the true stories surrounding the first woman detective in America and those who came after her. Chapters capture feats of courage, daring, and historical import as they follow female agents who pursue justice and whose exploits added to American history and early struggles for justice. No women’s history collection should be without this lively, important survey.

To learn more about Kate Warne and the other operatives read

The Pinks: The First Women Detectives, Operatives, and Spies with the

Pinkerton National Detective Agency.

Road trip today to beautiful Plumas County to give a book presentation for the National Federation of Republican Women.

The setting was gorgeous.

Next trip is to Colorado and the Tesoro Cultural Center in Morrison.

There’s nothing like Deadwood in the fall. I had a wonderful time at the South Dakota Book Festival and at the Brothel Deadwood Museum. Readers lined up to buy An Open Secret: The Story of Deadwood’s Most Notorious Bordellos. The incredible staff at Deadwood History Inc. and I will be working on a series of books about the infamous Bad Lands brothels focusing on each decade from the 1870s to 1980.

Maggie McDermott peered into the grimy windows of the Mascott Saloon and eyed the faces huddled around the bar. When she didn’t see who she was looking for, she removed the note tucked in her pocket, tilted it toward the lit oil lamp hanging outside the door, and studied the message. It read, “Frank and I are at the Mascott. Come on. Austie” Maggie exchanged a knowing glance with her friend Hattie Rice as she wadded the note in her hand. Hattie nodded to her, and the women proceeded inside.

The pair weaved through the rowdy patrons in search of Frank and the author of the invitation. The business was crowded. Men and women on a congested dance floor flitted about to a lively song a piano player was pounding out on an instrument badly in need of tuning. Occasionally, the women were stopped and propositioned by men who recognized them as prostitutes from the Gem Variety Theater. After inviting the potential customers to visit them later, Maggie and Hattie continued with their hunt. They asked a busboy for help, and he directed them to a room in the back of the busy tavern.

A gambler named Frank DeBelloy and his date Austie Trevyr a sixteen-year-old soiled dove employed at Madam Belle Haskell’s house of ill repute, were waiting on the other side of the door when Maggie and Hattie entered. The couple was seated at a table, drinking whiskey. Frank offered Maggie a smile, and, before he opened his mouth to speak, a bartender carrying a tray of glasses and a bottle of wine pushed past the two women. When the bartender left the room, Austie set a glass in front of Maggie and poured her a drink. “You have your nerve to ask me to drink with you and Frank when I have more claim on him than you,” Maggie barked at the teenager, “We having been together for the past three years.” Maggie then removed the note Austie wrote that she had wadded up and shoved in her pocket and tore it into pieces.

Austie glared at her rival, cursed at her under her breath, and drank down the last of wine she had poured for Maggie. She then pushed her chair back and stood up, her eyes fixed on Maggie. She reached into the top of her dress and removed a gun. Frightened, Hattie grabbed Maggie’s arm and tried to pull her out of the room. Maggie watched as Austie leveled the .32 caliber Smith and Wesson revolver at her and cocked the weapon. “Well, if I can’t have him you can’t,” she spat. The report of the gun was loud. Hattie screamed, and Maggie grabbed her chest and staggered backwards. Austie was about to shoot Maggie a second time when Frank grabbed her arm and hand. In the scuffle, the gun went off again.

Maggie sank into a chair, crying, “she shot me.” Hattie rushed to her side and tried to help Maggie get to her feet and escorted her to an adjoining room. She barely made it across the doorsill when she fell to the floor screaming, “Oh! Hattie! Oh! Hattie! I’m gone.” Frank quickly picked the injured woman up and laid her on a sofa. Moments later, Maggie was gone. She died on December 17, 1893.

Austie raced out the room and asked one of the owners of the saloon to get the police. She was gone by the time the authorities arrived. She ran to Belle Haskell’s house to grab her hat and shawl. After letting her employer know she’d shot a woman, she returned to the Mascott and confessed her crime to the investigating officer at the scene. When asked where she got the gun, she bragged that Frank had given it to her as a present. On her way to jail, Austie told the police she had intended shooting Maggie, her friend Hattie, and Frank, and that the second shot she fired was meant for Frank. The arresting officer noted in his report later that day that when he placed Austie in the cell she didn’t break down or exhibit any remorse. In his estimation, Austie seemed almost happy she’d killed Maggie McDermott.

To learn more about Maggie McDermott and the woman who murdered her read An Open Secret: The Story of Deadwood’s Most Notorious Bordellos.

Join me at the Brothel Deadwood Museum on Sunday, September 24 from 11 A.M. to 6 P.M. for a tour of the brothel and stories of the many raids on the houses of ill repute in the Black Hills. Visit DeadwoodHistory.com for more information.

It was a warm, mid-July evening in 1913 when twenty-six-year-old Private Fred Koetzle began hurling rocks at Poker Alice Tubb’s brothel in Sturgis, eventually shattering the upstairs windows. Koetzle and several other soldiers with K Company from Fort Meade stood outside the business throwing rocks and cursing at the occupants inside. Moments before the rowdy, intoxicated group had begun pelting the two-story bordello with stones, one of the men had cut the electrical wires leading to the house, casting it into darkness. Owing to their unruly behavior, it was 10:30 at night when Koetzle, Private Joseph C. Miner, and more than fifteen other infantrymen had been evicted from the business by the feisty madam who ran the resort.  Less than two weeks prior, the men had been thrown from the premises for the same reason.

In retaliation, the soldiers had gathered every rock and pebble in sight that July evening and had begun destroying the property. The misguided troops were assaulting the house with another volley of rubble when shots from a Winchester automatic rang out. Koetzle, Miner, and the other men scattered to avoid the spray of bullets.

When the magazine of the gun was empty, all but two of the soldiers emerged unscathed. Private Koetzle had been shot through the head, and Private Miner had been hit in the chest. Both men were transported to the post hospital. Koetzle died shortly after arriving, while Miner was in critical condition and, in time, made a full recovery. Poker Alice was arrested and charged with the shooting death of Private Koetzle. Six prostitutes were also taken into custody. The gun the notorious madam used was found outside the door of her house, and the magazine was found lying on Alice’s bed. A box of shells was found under the bed.

In addition to being charged with killing a man, Alice was charged with violating the state law prohibiting the operation of a house of ill repute. Her bond was set at $1,000. The bond for the women who worked for her was set at $200 each. The five patrons in the brothel at the time Alice opened fire on the soldiers were taken to jail along with the business owner and her employees. Each man was fined $15 for frequenting a house of prostitution.

Alice was scheduled to appear in court in September 1913, but a few weeks before the hearing, state and city authorities decided not to prosecute. The facts of the case laid out for the judge showed that the madam had acted justly in defending her property and life, and she was released. Alice and the women who worked for her returned to their jobs soon after.

To learn more about Poker Alice Tubbs read An Open Secret: The Story of Deadwood’s Most Notorious Bordellos.

Join me at the Brothel Deadwood Museum on Sunday, September 24 from 11 A.M. to 6 P.M. for a tour of the brothel and stories of the many raids on the houses of ill repute in the Black Hills. Visit DeadwoodHistory.com for more information.