Word: conviction
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Ward was an ex-convict (Leavenworth on a narcotics charge) who had gained respectability and success as president of B. & B., which grew under him from a $2,000,000 gross to $59 million last year. Yvette Ward's first big job for his company was redecorating the conservative, antique-filled lobby of the main plant in St. Paul. Recalls she: "I went extremely modern, but before the paint was dry, the executives were crying that I was ruining the place. My husband told them to stay out of the lobby until it was done. Then they loved...
...Theodore O. Thackrey, onetime editor of the New York Post, ran into difficulties with the haulers in his attempt to publish a new tabloid, the left-wing Compass. Referred to an ex-convict (bail jumping, dope peddling) named Irving Bitz, Thackrey paid Bitz $10.000-half what Bitz demanded-for a trouble-free contract with the Deliverers. After collecting the money, Bitz introduced Thackrey to Joseph Simons, then president of the Deliverers' union. The Compass died three years later, but it had no trouble with Simons' union...
...half a dozen other hard cons in a fast grab of two guards, armed with .30-cal. rifles. Young Smart coldly shot Deputy Warden Theodore Rothe dead. Other ringleaders captured Warden Powell, used the telephone to lure in other staffmen, slashed one guard who resisted, locked up five stoolpigeon convicts, whipped up some 30 other inmates (total: 435) and armed them with knives and meat axes. At nightfall the warden talked one convict into helping him escape, quickly called for an attack by National Guardsmen...
Hearing about the Guard call on prison radios, Myles and Smart herded their 18 handcuffed hostages, including Prison Sociologist Walter Jones, into a pair of cell cages in the third tier. On the bars above and around the sides, the ringleaders stationed convicts with jugs of naphtha from the laundry. Their orders: at the first noise of an attack from outside, pour the naphtha on the hostages, light it. "We'll burn 'em," shrieked a convict from the wall, and Warden Powell got word from inside that they meant...
Under the Jug. For two nights and a day the hostages huddled under the naphtha jugs. Around them, convicts hopped up on dispensary narcotics and kitchen-made "pruno" alcohol brandished their meat axes and jittered wildly. Rawboned Sociologist Jones, 24, was twice sent out to tell Powell that any move would mean death to the hostages, and to report convict grievances (bucket toilets, young prisoners mixed with older men, a hated state parole commissioner). "It's tighter than hell," he said. "They're shook." Once he went back, as he had promised, to sit under the jugs...