Baker - Alcatraz: #1259

All the photos in the front section of this book owe credit to the following:

The National Archives and Record Administration, International Press Photos, Image Vault, Acme Photo Service, and Michael Esslinger, author and Alcatraz historian.

Alcatraz Prison: See the cell house on top of the hill, factory building along the waterfront.

Forest Tucker, bank-robber and leader of the Alcatraz band. A great guy, he was to become a lifetime friend.

The wide corridor between B and C blocks called Broadway.

Warden Paul Madigan (Promising Paul) with convict Blackie Audett, behind, in whites and bow tie.

ISBN-13: 978-1482754070

ISBN-10: 148275407X

BISAC: Biography & Autobiography / Criminals & Outlaws

Alcatraz-1259 copyright 2012, William G. Baker. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

Every word in this book is true to the best of my memory of events and conversations that took place while I was serving time at Alcatraz and that I witnessed with my own eyes and heard with my own ears and felt with my own heart. As I write this I am eighty years old, and while today I may forget where I put my false teeth last night, like many old men I have a clear and vivid memory of events and conversations that happened in my youth many, many years ago. This is the true account of that time in my life when I was a bad boy.

Warningstrong language in character with a prison environment. This account is told from the viewpoint of the Alcatraz convict.

William G. Baker 1259-AZ

Alcatraz Cell (dressed up for show). Cells were only 5 x 9

Life is a contest,

And when I fail to compete I will die,

And even though the grim reaper may not collect my body,

When I fail to compete I will surrender to the comfort of the bells,

And my soul will belong to my keeper,

For life is a contest.

William G. Baker 1259-AZ

Mess hall, 1962. They believed in feeding good at Alcatraz. They had no canteen, so you couldnt buy any snacks, so you couldnt miss any mealswhich I didnt.

To Mae

When God made Mae He must have dipped her in honey,
because she is the sweetest woman in the world.

Recreation Yard, 1956. Daytime rec weekends & holidays only.

D Blockthe hole (six punishment cells bottom tier, back)

Richard (Jackrabbit) Bayless, bank-robber. A quiet and thoughtful man, he too was to become a lifetime friend.

Aaron Burget. He died trying to escape. They found his body floating in the Bay but his soul was long gone.

FOREWORD

Hello.

Im Bill Baker. I guess Im one of the last living prisoners from Alcatraz, thats what Ive been told. I know that everybody I knew from Alcatraz is dead, gone to that big prison in the sky, for I know that the Bureau of Prisons must have figured out a way to build a prison there and that Federal Prison Industries has built a factory there to employ the heavenly convicts, for they dont miss a chance. I once heard that if you die at Alcatraz they bury your body standing up and dont lay it down until your time is up, but I think its more likely that you go straight up, or maybe straight down, and finish your time sewing white cotton gloves for Federal Prison Industries.

Im retired now. Ive been trying to retire for many years, and I finally got a parole officer who was wise enough to let me. They dont really need me anymore anyway, for there are millions of young gang-bangers and crack-heads and such out there just knocking on prison doors to get in, enough to provide job security for the entire criminal justice system for ever and ever, so why bother with me. The gang-bangers are easier to catch anyway. They shoot each other, and the ones who get shot go to the hospital and the ones who survive run to their mamas house.

I retired at the top of my game. Im the best counterfeit check casher there is. I learned my trade at Alcatraz from Courtney Taylor, the best there was. The only problem is the best isnt good enough. You can get away with it a thousand times, but all you have to do is get caught once and youre caught.

I guess you could say Im a career criminal, but that really doesnt fit my track record, for a career criminal jacket best fits somebody with a greater degree of success than I had. You could better describe me as a career convict. I mean Ive either been a convict or an ex-convict all my life, doing a life sentence on the installment plan. But, for all that, Im still the best there is. I just cant seem to solve the problem of getting caught.

Not that the law is so smart. They never once caught me by their own effort. They didnt have to. I caught myself, one little mistake after another, on the job training, but thats what it takes to be the best, I guess.

I have no love for the law, nor they for me, but me and the law had a congenial dumb and dumber relationship, they being dumb and me being dumber.

Now at eighty years of age theyve turned me out to pasture. Its nice to not be needed any more. Once upon a time, though, I was desperately needed. The Bureau of Prisons needed me to fill up a bed. The Federal Prison Industries needed me to work in their factories. And when I was free, every cop from sea to shining sea wanted me badly, had a set of shiny handcuffs ready just for me. I can imagine law enforcement agencies throughout the land saying, Oh shit! Bakers on the loose again! For I was wide open and they knew me well by name. So there were a lot of Oh shits when I was free.

Now Im a relic, a fossil from a time before the gang-bangers came along and changed the world with their overwhelming numbers, those numbers created by new federal drug laws that made it highly profitable for even the lowest street peddler to make pockets full of money, which meant new prisons had to be built to hold them all, an impossibility, of course, because for every dope peddler they arrested there were two to take his place. So, if youre crying about not being able to find a job, try the Bureau of Prisons. Become a prison guard. Then youll have it made from cradle to grave, for no profession on the face of the earth has a higher growth rate or better job security than they. And you dont have to have any qualifications other than the ability to stand on two feet and count to ten, in my admittedly biased estimation. For in my estimation theres room for dumb and dumber and