Kewaunee County's One-Armed Bandits and a 1940 Wedding Picture

 If You Must, Shoot Crap with Honest People, Forget Slot Machines. Such was the headline of an Algoma Record Herald article on November 17, 1949. Statisticians at the University of Wisconsin figured out that the one-armed bandit ate quarters while the player had a  seven to one chance of winning. The stats further showed that three machine jackpots occurred in every 8,000 plays.

Sometimes a small jackpot is as good as it gets, and it was good in September 1940. The 13^th and 14^th were days of the annual Door County Teacher’s Institute at Sturgeon Bay High School, although the teachers weren’t learning how to prepare their charges for sin and corruption.

East Maplewood’s primary teacher had been married three months earlier. Having been in Sturgeon Bay on Labor Day, she and the new groom spotted their wedding picture in the window of Rieboldt Studio on (what was) N. Cedar Street. The  photo was beautifully bordered by an ivory, mother-of-pearl, and silver frame, something far too expensive for the newly married couple.

On second meeting day, the young bride needed gas, which she purchased at Yahnke’s Wadham’s Filling Station at 4^th and Jefferson in Algoma. Like many other stations of the era, Yahnke’s had a one-armed bandit. Using the dime in change from her fill-up, the young woman impulsively put it into the slot machine. It paid! When she traveled to Sturgeon Bay for that second day, she used the noon break to dash to Rieboldt’s where she bought the exquisite picture. Telling the story in years to come, the aging bride said she had never done anything so foolish in her life. Ten cents was real money in the post-Depression/pre-war years. Eighty-three years later, that photo is every bit as beautiful as when it hung in the studio’s window.

Where did slot machines come from?

If the November 16, 1906, issue of Algoma Record Herald had it right, slot machines were invented by the Egyptians for use in Egyptian temples before the Christian era. That machine was “a covered stone vase for holy water. There was a slot in it and a five-drachm piece dropped into it caused the cover to slide back smoothly so the worshipper could take a little holy water, whereupon the cover moved back into its place.” The 1906 article said such perfect devices could be found in museums and English army officer, Col. Sandeman, gets credit for inventing a penny slot machine, but it was Percy Everett of New York who was the first to imagine the machine’s possibilities and begin marketing.

It didn’t take long for the machines to make the news.

In May 1913, clergy throughout Green Bay addressed the city’s moral conditions in their Sunday sermons. Church goers were urged to fight the evils which were a menace to the community’s youth by weeding out disreputable saloonkeepers, dance hall owners and promoters. It was noted that the mayor and council committees took away 11 licenses during the year. Control was necessary in River City!

The slot machines brought crime to Algoma in November 1923 when burglars broke a rear window to enter the Nesemann saloon at 2^nd and Navarino in Algoma. The perpetrator got a nickel slot machine owned by Charles Hopp of Kewaunee. Mr. Nesemann felt that about $15 was in the machine which was found in the pea canning factory and broken into pieces. Bars and beach stones were used to smash the machine to get at the nickels.

 It was reported in early December 1925 that the Casco barbershop was burglarized on the preceding Sunday night, a time when there was no money in the cash register. The only thing missing was the slot machine. The burglar broke a rear window for entry.

Forst Hall in Tisch Mills saw one of the boldest robberies in the area during early September 1926. When lights went out at midnight (because it was time to go home), robbers helped themselves to $60 or more from the cash register and a 25-cent slot machine before the dance crowd knew what was happening. Change on the bar was also scooped up to produce more than 100 bucks in the heist.

Authorities said two men were seen running from the hall to a waiting car. It was felt three or more men were in the gang as the slot machine was large and heavy. The robbery appeared to be well planned and timed because the robbers were at the cash register and had removed the slot machine within a minute of the lights going out.

In late July 1929, a few months before “The Crash,” Algoma’s Henry Muench foiled a robbery at Schmitty’s Inn on west side of town when he heard the robbers and shouted. The thieves were attempting to carry off a slot machine, cartons of cigarettes, and two pistols taken from a punch board. Running, they dropped the slot and cigarettes and one of the pistols was found near the Wenniger home. Authorities thought they had information, however the “culprits” left the city.

 Algoma barber Otto Krohn found a dime slot machine and several cartons of cigarettes were stolen when his shop was entered on Sunday night in July 1931. The machine was found in the rear of the Dug-Out the following noon by janitor Frank Prokash. Though the machine was broken and coined were gone, the thieves missed 40 cents.

Once again thieves broke a rear window to enter Harold Jenquin’s place in Brussels for the second time in three months. Cigars and cigarettes were stolen in August 1933, however in November, the crooks carried off a radio tube tester, a slot machine, and more cigarettes.

Joseph Wagner, a 24 year old Green Bay man, was released by Kewaunee County authorities in 1933 under a $2,000 bond furnished by his father. He was arrested at his Preble home after his license number was noticed when his auto was parked at Jule Dalebroux’ Thiry Daems softdrink parlor which was enter the night a slot machine and other items were stolen.

Wagner’s back cushion and part of the front seat were removed from the 1932 Chevrolet coach to make space for three slot machines and a cigar box holding about $25 of nickels and dimes. A 32-calibre fully loaded revolver was found under the hood. The machines were stolen from Dalebroux, George Hruska in Alaska, and Tony Worachek in Slovan. Entry at Alaska and Slovan was gained by crashing the front door, possibly with the iron jimmy he was carrying.

Authorities had been watching for the suspected Mr. Wagner for months. He refused to speak about the robberies though said if he wanted to do so, he could give the names of 20 others. Because of similarities, Wagner was suspected in several other roadhouse robberies such as Rubens at Rosiere where a coin operated music box was lifted. Other slot machines were found at Wagner’s residence and it was reported that he was wanted for pulling similar jobs in Manitowoc (where his father lived), Sheboygan, and Door Counties.

Wagner’s new car indicated he was making money. The young man operated his own roadhouse near the Hagemeister Brewery on Manitowoc Rd. in the Town of Preble, now in the City of Green Bay. Getting many of his products “free” was guaranteed to boost his income. Since two of the slot machines had the serial numbers filed off, authorities were sure they were among the ill-gotten loot.

Slot machines were on the minds of many in December 1937 when Wisconsin Attorney General Loomis came up with a new plan for ridding cities and villages of the nefarious games. It was simple: call them gambling machines. Proof had to be offered under state anti-gambling laws, although under the new ruling, a municipality could ban the machines by ordinance.

County District Attorney  Bruemmer  was criticized by A.J. Murphy in a letter to the editor of Algoma Record Herald, published on June 22, 1934. In his letter, Murphy said his criticism was Bruemmer’s indifference to the gambling influences and slot machines in Kewaunee County. Bruemmer had suggested to Murphy that since he knew where the office was, he should come in to sign complaints.

Murphy claimed to have no issue with isolated incidents, but strongly suggested the D.A. should do his duty - his responsibility to keep “racketeers and vice-rings” out of the county. He said citizens should not have to sign complaints when the D.A. was being paid to uphold the law and prosecute. Murphy said if Bruemmer was afraid of prosecuting because he’d lose popularity, his failures were not enhancing his reputation and that he was losing prestige by his “dictatorial manner and methods.” People were said to be “fed up” with the “arrogant attitude on the part of a public servant.”

Murphy concluded his letter asking, “What is the answer” if Mr. Bruemmer refuses to act? He went on to say, “In the words of ‘Roundy,’ I say, ‘Write your own ticket’.”

What did that mean? Murphy was referring to Roundy Coughlin, the popular Wisconsin State Journal sports’ writer who wrote in what some called stream-of-consciousness style. Wikipedia gives this as one of Roundy’s comments: “A lot of times slot machines spit and you get some money, but the parking meters just say so long sucker.”

By February 1942, Kewaunee County which ranked 54^th in population of Wisconsin’s (then) 71 counties, gained statewide publicity when the internal revenue collector in Milwaukee said it ranked 5^th in slot machines and pin ball devices that paid off. The county had 236 machines thus 1 for every 71 residents compared to the state average of 1 for every 561 residents. Kewaunee County’s per capita figure was about 8 times greater than the state average. One state paper said the six people paying the 100-dollar tax were all named Worachek – Albert, Anton, Edward, Gilbert, James, and Robert. Wisconsin took in 5,588 separate tax payments although it was felt more than 5,000 people were illegally operating more than 11,000 slots.

It was the first time such information became public due to the new $50 federal tax. Prosecutors believed recording names of the operators would make prosecution less difficult and that prompted going forward with immediate action.

By September, the big news from the new District Attorney A.G. Murphy’s office was that slot machines would be cleaned up. Murphy couldn’t understand why Kewaunee County was being picked on by Wisconsin Attorney General John E. Martin. At that point, Murphy who had criticized his predecessor, didn’t think slots were a problem and had received no complaints. The slots in the county were owned by private individuals, not by a syndicate. Kewaunee County did not have organized crime and racketeering, although in 1934 Murphy was sure the slots would lead it.

Martin said a group of Kewaunee County residents came to him in Madison informing him of the slots which were found in drug stores and ice cream parlors. Martin ordered the machines out, however he did not threaten to send state men to see to it.

Martin said Murphy pleaded for a letter from the state ordering the slots’ removal. Then the Record Hearld asked readership for opinions because the entire matter needed to be cleared up. The paper thought the official vagueness of responsibility was as bad as the slot machine racket itself – and the paper did think it was a racket. However, Kewaunee County owners and operators were quite frank in telling folks the machines were set for suckers. Maybe that’s why county residents were tolerant for so long.

The paper opined removal was what most citizens wanted, but it also said slots would probably be back. Illegal to be sure, the paper felt law enforcement would look the other way as it was to their advantage, and the state wasn’t serious enough to police the entire county.

The one place that didn’t get “all het up” about the slots was the Village of Luxemburg which hadn’t permitted the machines for years. Luxemburg did permit pin ball machines which were said to be a game of skill, but now that was coming to an end too.

Uncle Sam would be the loser said the Record. For its size, Kewaunee County paid more slot machine taxes than any Wisconsin county, and Wisconsin stood high in such taxes throughout the country. Editor Heidmann felt Uncle Sam didn’t have to worry yet because taxes were paid up to June 30 and a lot could happen before taxes came around again.

A month later, District Attorney Murphy’s bill including the expense of a trip to Madison relative to the slot machine situation was “laid over for investigation by the board.” The nature of the discussion between Murphy and state A.G. John Martin was not divulged, however it was felt the return of slot machines had significance in the meeting. As Yogi Bera would say years later, “It ain’t over till it’s over.”

Following orders from Gov. Goodland in August 1943, slot machines were ordered out of Kewaunee County taverns and public places by District Attorney W.A. Cowell and Sheriff Will Brusky. Six machine operators had recently paid the $100 federal tax on each machine. Madison said there were 130 such machines in the county. Did any survive?

This picture - taken in the early 1940s - appeared in the July 12,1972, Record Herald with a caption saying, “SLOT MACHINE CLEANUP” was the information noted on the envelope containing this negative from which the picture was reproduced. The two men in the foreground are Dist. Att. A.G. Murphy and Sheriff Thomas O’Konski.

The following May, some thought slot machines were an ancient issue in Wisconsin public affairs but hearings continued. While prohibited, they existed. A few weeks earlier, in April, two sheriffs – Clark and St. Croix Counties – were in trouble because they refused to get the slots out of their jurisdictions. The sheriff of St. Croix County said he knew of the operations, but the county’s public opinion approved them. During the three days of testimony, it came out that several municipalities in St. Croix County were collecting revenue through either assessments or through “donations” from their owners.

Gov. Walter Goodland forced the slot machine issue in February 1945. By 1 vote, the judiciary committee recommended passage of the Thompson bill driving gambling, including slots, from Wisconsin. The state senate took note of rumors suggesting slot machine interests were collecting money to fight anti-slot legislation. The senate directed the attorney general to investigate such rumors while religious denominations were generous in their support to aid the governor in stamping out the offensive machines.

The legislators’ most important work was seen as the measure to prohibit gambling in Wisconsin and to make slot machines illegal. The proposed law would give state treasury beverage tax agents the power to revoke liquor permits of those who owned or operated the machines.

The anti-gambling bill stalled a month later and was waiting for an opinion from the state attorney general. One suggestion – coming around again - was putting the issue to referendum. Senator Harold Lytie of Green Bay proposed amending the constitution to make licensed gambling possible, thus eliminating law violations and tax enforcement.

In mid-August state officers noted that first prosecutions of tavernkeepers under the new slot machine law were conspicuously unsuccessful.

So, what happened next?

Slot machines had a long history in Wisconsin. Popular during Prohibition, they remained until after World War ll when they were outlawed due to fears about organized crime. Everybody heard about Al Capone and his ilk. Commercial gambling in the state today is illegal with few exceptions. State law forbade gambling from the beginning, however, since there is Tribal sovereignty, casinos are legal.

It was in 1989 when Wisconsin legalized raffles and dog racing. in 1991, a court ruling paved the way for legalized Indian gaming.

Who could believe the source of o young bride’s money to buy a treasured wedding picture was a controversial issue that divided Wisconsin and beyond for years? Surely not that bride!

 

Sources: Algoma Record Herald; Wikipedia; https://www.lb7.uscourts.gov.documents