Old Sparky

by Anthony Galvin

  She gained the reputation as a killer in 1900 after two incidents in Texas. It was said that she killed two circus workers, one in Waco and the other in Paris, Texas. This reputation drew in the crowds when Forepaugh & Sells Brothers’ Circus came to Coney Island. However, like her size, there was an element of exaggeration. A circus worker had been injured in Paris, but he made a full and speedy recovery. And there was no injury in Waco. However, the bad temper was no exaggeration.

  Things came to a head on the morning of May 27, 1902. The circus was in Brooklyn. A drunk keeper, James Fielding Blount, wandered into the menagerie where all the elephants were tied up together. As he staggered down the line, he teased the massive animals, waving a bottle of whiskey under their trunks. Not getting enough of a reaction, he threw sand into Topsy’s face, then offered her a treat—a lit cigar. The trunk of an elephant is highly sensitive, and this must have caused her agony. Topsy lashed out with her trunk, tossing Blount to the ground. She then stood on his head, crushing his skull and killing him instantly.

  Newspaper accounts, of course, exaggerated the incident. The elephant had gone on a rampage and savaged Blount with her tusks. Female Asian elephants do not have tusks, but why let the truth spoil a good story. Accounts also surfaced claiming that Topsy had killed twelve people in total. The truth was one death and one injury. But it was enough to make the circus a huge draw. There were full houses for weeks after the death of Blount, with everyone eager to see the rogue killer elephant.

  But a few weeks after the death, there was another incident. The circus had moved on and was pulling into Kingston, New York. The train stopped at the platform and the carriages opened. As the elephants were being led from the station to the field, a spectator with a stick, Louis Dodero, raised the stick and tickled Topsy behind the ear. She whirled rapidly and seized Dodero around the waist with her trunk. She hoisted the startled man into the air and slammed him into the ground. Immediately her handlers surrounded her and brought her under control. Beyond minor injuries, no harm was done. But the circus knew they could no longer tour with the temperamental elephant. The owners decided to sell Topsy.

  Back then there was a demand for elephants. Coney Island’s Sea Lion Park was glad for an addition to their lineup. Topsy came with her handler, William Alt. But when the Sea Lion Park went bankrupt, the whole concern was sold to Frederick Thompson and Elmer Dundy, who wanted to develop a far larger attraction—Luna Park. Luna Park was a large amusement park with spectacular rides and attractions, as well as shows and animals. It was due to open in May 1903, and the owners wanted to stage a spectacular event to announce its arrival.

  They decided that Topsy could help. They used the elephant during the construction phase, allowing newspaper men to photograph her hauling large loads of lumber. They said it was part of her “penance” for killing a spectator. But her handler, William Alt, was drinking heavily and was losing control of his charge. He turned the elephant loose in the streets one day, and on another day tried to break into a police station on top of the elephant. He was fired.

  Now there was no one who could control the elephant who had a reputation for irascibility. The park owners decided that they would have to move her on, but with her reputation no one would take her. There was only one solution; they would have to put her down. This presented a tremendous marketing coup; they could make her execution a public spectacle.

  The date was set for January 4, 1903. It would be a big after-Christmas attraction, an event for the whole family. Luna Park would charge twenty-five cents a head. Previous executions of elephants in other parts of the country had been big draws. Elephants had been hung, strangled by ropes tied to other elephants, poisoned, and shot. There had even been an attempt to electrocute an elephant, but the current didn’t seem to have any effect on the massive animal, so Luna Park dismissed that idea. They opted for hanging. An industrial crane would be used. Their press agent swung into action, publicizing the execution. Posters were put up all over the city, advertising both the hanging and the opening of the park a few months afterward.

  But the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals was horrified and protested. So Luna Park decided to use the more humane execution method of electricity, which had replaced hanging for people. Now it was going to replace hanging for animals. They also agreed not to charge for the spectacle.

  Power in that part of New York was supplied by the local Edison Electricity Light Company. The power plant still bore the Edison name, but the inventor was no longer involved in the electricity supply business. But now his name was linked to the elephant execution. A team from the park liaised with the plant engineers. They began by stringing a wire the nine blocks from the substation to carry the power needed. Secretly, the park owners decided to administer a poison just to help things along. The previous attempt to electrocute an elephant had been a spectacular failure, and they wanted to get this one right.

  On the morning of the execution, Topsy was led from her pen into the unfinished park. There was a raised platform near the edge of a lagoon where the execution would take place. The spectators—1,500 of them, alongside 100 press photographers—were on the other side of the lagoon. Topsy was led through the crowd and onto a bridge across the lagoon. But she refused to cross the bridge, even when bribed with apples and other treats. Someone was sent to fetch William Alt, the fired trainer, but he was too attached to the elephant and refused to come. They offered him twenty-five dollars, nearly $700 in today’s money. But he said he would not come for even $1,000.

  Unable to get the elephant to the electrocution platform, the park was forced to improvise. They hastily tore down the platform and moved it across the bridge to the spectator side of the lagoon. The electricians managed to get a copper-lined sandal onto Topsy’s right forefoot and another on the rear left foot. Once these were connected, power would flow through the entire torso of the elephant, frying the vital organs. Then, at the last minute, Topsy was given a bunch of carrots—laced with 460 grams of potassium cyanide.

  The call went through to the power station nine blocks away and the power was turned on. Luna Park chief electrician Hugh Thomas threw a switch at his end, and 6,600 volts shot through Topsy’s body for ten seconds. The massive creature stiffened instantly and smoke billowed from both copper plates. Then the back leg flashed bright as it caught fire. The flames shot up about a foot high, and then the hind leg came up off the ground, and Topsy, her body rigid, fell over onto her side, her legs sticking up in the air. It took only seconds. Veterinarians on the scene ran forward and quickly gave assurance that the elephant had died instantly. But they were taking no chances. A noose was placed around Topsy’s neck and pulled tight, the pressure being maintained for ten minutes. At the end of that time it was obvious that the elephant would not be getting up again.

  The Commercial Advertiser wrote the following day: “Topsy, the ill-tempered Coney Island elephant, was put to death in Luna Park, Coney Island, yesterday afternoon. The execution was witnessed by 1,500 or more curious persons, who went down to the island to see the end of the huge beast, to whom they had fed peanuts and cakes in summers that are gone. In order to make Topsy’s execution quick and sure, 460 grams of cyanide of potassium were fed to her in carrots. Then a hawser was put around her neck and one end attached to a donkey engine and the other to a post. Next wooden sandals lined with copper were attached to her feet. These electrodes were connected by copper wire with the Edison electric light plant and a current of 6,600 volts was sent through her body. The big beast died without a trumpet or a groan.”

  The entire event was filmed by the Edison Manufacturing Company, who shot many shorts of animals and other subjects. The footage, entitled “Electrocuting an Elephant,” was shown in cinemas throughout the country but was not very popular, so it was eventually removed from circulation. It is now available on YouTube. That film forever linked Edison with the electrocution of an elephant, and eventually the legend replaced the truth—th
e truth being that Thomas Edison never killed an elephant to advance his cause during the current wars.

  9

  LAST MEALS

  In the summer of 2014 someone in London, England, had a great idea for a pop-up restaurant. The whole country reacted with predictable horror. “Death Row Dinners” closed before it even opened. Yet the fledgling venture got great publicity. Everything surrounding the death penalty has a visceral power over us.

  The last meal is one of the enduring traditions surrounding execution, like the last cigarette before a man faces the firing squad. The last cigarette is a thing of the past. In these days of health consciousness smoking has been banned in prisons, and the condemned man is not allowed his last nicotine hit. He has to remain healthy for the bullet. But the last meal has endured in most states.

  The history of the last meal does not stretch back nearly as far as people imagine. In fact, it is less than a hundred years old in America as a formal part of the execution ritual. But it has roots stretching back to medieval European superstitions. In that era they believed that the last meal was a symbolic act. When the condemned man accepted the freely offered food, it was a sign that he was making peace with those who had condemned him to death. In accepting the last meal he was symbolically forgiving the judge and executioner. With luck his spirit would not come back to haunt them all afterward.

  In France, the prisoner was even offered a small shot of rum a few minutes before the execution. This was not just a kindness—a slightly inebriated prisoner was easier to handle.

  The one place where considerations such as a last meal were not a feature of executions was in England. The law was clear: “During the short but awful interval between sentence and execution, the prisoner shall be kept alone, and be sustained with only bread and water.” (Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws of England, 1765).

  The tradition of the last meal was formalized in America in 1924. Texas was the first state to introduce it, and it quickly caught on. Prior to 1924, executions were carried out on a county by county basis, and last meals were organized locally. In 1924 the state took over executions, and last meals became a fixture of the procedure. But last meal is a misnomer. It isn’t always the last meal served to the prisoner, because hours away from execution many cannot face it. Sometimes the meal—called a “special meal”—was served a few days prior to the execution.

  Each state does it in its own way, but almost always alcohol and tobacco are denied the prisoner. Unusual items are not always available and often substitutes are used. Some states have tight restrictions on what may be ordered. For instance, Florida limits the budget to forty dollars and the ingredients must be purchased locally. Oklahoma is even stingier, limiting the budget to fifteen dollars. Occasionally, family members are allowed eat with the prisoner. In Louisiana, the prison warden traditionally joins the condemned prisoner. On one occasion, the warden actually paid out of his own pocket for the two of them to enjoy a lobster dinner.

  A certain latitude is often allowed. Francis “Two Gun” Crowley, a New York gangster who went to the chair in Sing Sing in 1932, was allowed to share his last meal with John Resko, a murderer also on death row. Resko never got his own last meal; his sentence was eventually commuted to life imprisonment. Raymond Fernandez, the Lonely Hearts Killer, was fried in 1951. He requested that his last meal be distributed among the other inmates in the prison. They got his omelet and fries.

  It is impossible to go through every last meal request, but some do stand out. Here are some of the highlights of the last meals of those who went to death in the electric chair.

  Ruth Snyder was famously photographed in the electric chair by a reporter who used a concealed camera. The shocking image was front page news in 1928 when she was executed for the murder of her husband. Ruth’s final meal was chicken Parmesan with alfredo pasta, followed by ice cream, and washed down by two milkshakes and a twelve-pack of grape soda.

  “Two Gun” Francis Crowley was a punk Irish gangster in Prohibition-era New York. During a three-month murder and robbery spree he killed a number of times. He was caught after a two-hour shootout, during which cops fired over seven hundred rounds into the apartment he was holed up in. His last meal, in 1932, was steak and onions with french fries, followed by apple pie and ice cream. He shared it with a fellow prisoner. His last words were to ask for a cloth to wipe off the chair, as it had been used in a previous execution.

  Bruno Richard Hauptmann, convicted of the kidnapping and murder of the Lindbergh toddler, was executed in 1936. He asked for a last meal of celery, olives, chicken, french fries, buttered peas, cherries, and a slice of cake.

  The “Lonely Hearts Killers,” Raymond Martinez Fernandez and Martha Jule Beck, murdered as many as twenty women for their savings between 1947 and 1949. They were executed in Sing Sing, New York, on March 8, 1951. Fernandez had an onion omelet and french fries, followed by a chocolate candy bar and a cigar. He asked that the meal be shared among his fellow prisoners.

  Original teen “rebel without a cause” Charles Starkweather was executed in Nebraska in 1959 for a series of murders committed with his teen girlfriend. He declined the usual steak dinner and opted for a plate of cold cuts instead.

  Joseph “Mad Dog” Taborsky was sentenced to death in 1950, partly on the testimony of his brother. But when his brother was declared insane and institutionalized, Taborsky appealed and was released from prison after serving just three years. In 1955, he went on a crime spree, killing six people in a series of brutal armed robberies. He was executed on May 17, 1960, at Wethersfield Penitentiary, Connecticut. His accomplice in the six murders got a life sentence, in part because he had protected a three-year-old who Taborsky had wanted to kill. Taborsky asked for a banana split and a cherry soda, followed by coffee, before going to the chair. He also asked for a pack of cigarettes.

  Richard Kiefer, from Fort Wayne, Indiana, grew tired of his wife’s nagging about his fishing and drinking, so he took a hammer to her in 1957. When his five-year-old daughter tried to break up the fight, he killed her too. His final meal, before being executed in 1961, was fried chicken and french fries, followed by banana cream pie and vanilla ice cream.

  Ralph Hudson went to the chair in Trenton, New Jersey, in 1963. He was the last person executed by that state, for the crime of stabbing his estranged wife to death. His last meal was prime rib steak and ice cream, followed by a good cigar.

  Ted Bundy was the handsome boy-next-door who killed thirty women. He was executed in Florida in 1989. When it came time to face the chair, his courage—or at least his appetite—failed him. He declined a last meal, and was instead given the standard steak (medium-rare), eggs (over easy), hash browns, toast, milk, coffee, and juice. But he didn’t eat any of it.

  Allen Lee Davis was a huge man with a huge appetite. He had bludgeoned a pregnant woman to death and had killed both her young daughters. Weighing 344 pounds, he requested a feast—a lobster tail, half a pound of fried shrimp, six ounces of fried clams, and a side of fried potatoes. He also had half a loaf of garlic bread and washed it down with root beer. When he was electrocuted in 1999, he bled profusely from the nose and suffered severe burns to his groin and legs. There was an outcry, which Governor Jeb Bush dismissed, saying, “Everybody’s getting all worked up about a nosebleed.” But the horror of his execution caused Florida to switch to lethal injection immediately afterwards.

  James Neil Tucker was a rapist and career criminal, convicted of shooting two women in the head during two burglaries. He was executed in South Carolina in 2004. For his final meal he chose a pizza, two BLT sandwiches, and Mountain Dew.

  Some last meal requests are denied by the state. Philip Workman was facing lethal injection in Tennessee when his final request was turned down. He had been convicted in 1982 for the murder of a police officer during a botched armed robbery. After serving twenty-five years—more than a life sentence in most developed countries—he was finally strapped to the gurney on May 9, 2007. He had asked
that his last meal—a vegetarian pizza—be given to a homeless person. It was a selfless gesture, but one the prison authorities decided was not possible. So he refused any last meal. But his attempt to give a pizza to a street person got widespread media coverage. The attempted gesture seemed to tug at people’s heartstrings in some way, and in the hours following his execution local homeless shelters received several hundred pizzas. They were not all vegetarian, but it is the thought that counts. One woman donated $1,200 worth of pizzas to Nashville’s Rescue Mission. An employee of the mission, Marvin Champion, told The Tennessean: “I used to be homeless, so I know how rough it gets. But we got pizza to feed enough people for a while.” PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) president Ingrid Newkirk donated fifteen veggie pizzas, saying, “Workman’s act was selfless, and kindness to all living beings is a virtue.”

  Perhaps the most unusual last meal request was from Victor Feguer, a drifter who kidnapped a doctor and killed him for whatever drugs he had in his possession. He was hanged in Iowa in 1963, the last execution in that state. His final meal was a single olive, with the stone still in it. Robert Buell, a serial child rapist and murderer executed in Ohio in 2002, enjoyed the same last meal.

  James Edward Smith, executed in Texas in 1990 for the murder of an insurance clerk, claimed to be a voodoo priest, having been obsessed with black magic and voodoo since the age of six. He asked for a plate of dirt but was given a yogurt instead. There were questions about his mental competency, but the execution went ahead none the less. The reason he asked for dirt was because he believed it would prevent his spirit from coming back as a ghost. When his request was denied, he told officials that his ghost would haunt the facility at Huntsville for the next three hundred years.

  Ricky Ray Rector, executed in Arkansas in 1992, was severely mentally disabled (as a result of an attempted suicide, when he shot himself in the head). He enjoyed most of his last meal but left the pecan pie on the plate, telling stunned warders that he would eat it later, after the execution. Many people felt great unease at his execution due to his poor grip on reality and obvious disability.