The Saturday press., October 01, 1927, Image 2

About The Saturday press. (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1927-1936

Image provided by: Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

                
Page Two
lyzed, but if you fail to even
whisper your condemnation of
CONDITIONS AS THEY ARE
IN THIS CITY, you need ex
press no surprise at the down
ward-bound host and the piti
fully few who go up.
Criminals are MADE, not
born, and they are made by
hundreds, by thousands in the
very institutions the Saturday
Press is opposed to—the gam
bling joints in this city. Not the
petty baseball “pools” that
your hair-brained sleuths rave
about and rant over, but COM
MERCIALIZED GAMBLING
JOINTS—PROTECTED dens
of vice—criminal incubators
such as are operated by the
owners of the Twin City Re
porter and their allied thugs.
That’s all. Send the two boys
on down to Stillwater, but
DON'T OVERLOOK THE
THINGS WHO EMPLOYED
THEM, that made them what
they are.
Remember Don Mellet!
Well, gangland has won the
first round but as usual, gang
* land has forgotten that this is
no one-round affair BUT A
FINISH FIGHT.
The Saturday Press HAS
JUST BEGUN TO FIjjJHT!
If the ochre heart lent
who fired those shots-lnto the
defenseless body of my buddy,
thought for a moment that they
were ending the fight against
gang rule of this city, they
were mistaken.
Had they given him the same
chance that a sportsman gives
his prey, what a different end
ing there would have been to
the affair.
And you nameless, sireless
spawn who plotted that shoot
ing but who didn’t have the
guts to turn the trick your
selves, I wish there were words
in the English language that
would enable me to express my
contempt for you, you carrion
buzzards.
You hired your gunmen and
then scuttled for cover, prepar
ing your alibis, arranging your
schedule, protecting your own
leprous hides, rearranging
your smirks and planning your
future earnings when, with
“Gil” out of the way, you
would feel safe once more. You
thought, you hoped that with
the shooting of “Gil”'the “Old
Man” would fade out of the
picture, but you sickqd your
dogs.on-the wrong cat. The
fight has just begun.
—The Old Man.
THE SHOOTING OF HOWARD A. GUILFORD
AND SOME TWIN CITY REPORTER HISTORY
(By J. M. Near)
Folks, I am going to tell you
this story in my own way, in
my own style, or lack of style,
and in language so plain that
all can understand.
Mr. Guilford and myself
started the publication of the
Saturday Press with but one
aim in view and for one pur— >
pose only and that was TO
CLEANSE MINNEAPOLIS OF
THE TWIN CITY REPORTER
AND ITS PROTECTED GAM
BLING SYNDICATE OWN
ERS.
Three weeks before we put
out the first issue, we were
threatened with death if we
persisted in our expose of the
gambling syndicate and the
Twin City Reporter. Our first
issue (dated Saturday, Sept.
24) appeared on Thursday,
September 22. But few copies
were distributed at that time,
for reasons I shall disclose fur
ther on, but on Saturday morn
ing we were told with charm
ing frankness that “if you
don’t lay off you will get your
ear slapped BEFORE THE
27th.” We have both been ac
cused of many things of which
fwe were innocent, but not even
o3|r most bitter enemies ever
accused us of having cold feet.
We have “quit” at the END of
many fights but never at the
BEGINNING.
On Monday morning, Sep
tember TWENTY-SIXTH, just
one day sooner than the date
set on which our ears would be
slapped, Mr. Guilford phoned
me a few moments before 8
o’clock a. m., from his home in
Robbinsdale that he was leav
ing for the office and asked
me to meet him there at 8:30.
Before I had left the house,
a phone call informed me that
he had been shot down JUST
ONE HUNDRED FEET OUT
SIDE THE CITY LIMITS. I
ask you who read these lines
to remember the date set for
our “ear slap” and the distance
OUTSIDE the city limits at
which the shooting occurred.
With Mr. Guilford at the
time, was hfs sister-in-law, Miss
Esther Siede, who is employed
in one of the largest financial
institutions in the city. When
the killers pulled up alongside
•Guilford’s car, crowding it
close to the curb, the doors of
the “Chivvy” touring were
thrown open and with “We’ve
got you now, you ,’’
THE SATURDAY PRESS
the killers began firing. It is
certain four shots were fired,
with possibly several more.
Guilford, who is an expert
marksman, groped for his gun
which, unfortunately, was in
the side pocket of his car. Be
fore he could reach it, one shot
struck him in the left side of
the abdomen and the gunmen,
as “Gil” slumped over against
the steering wheel, still grop
ing blindly for his gun, sped
away.
Had Mrs. Guilford instead
of her sister been in the car
that morning SHE WOULD
HAVE BEEN SHOT DOWN
AS DELIBERATELY AS HER
HUSBAND but the killers,
after the first shot, which went
between Miss Siede’s and Guil
ford’s heads and crashed
through the windshield, evi
dently discovered that the lady
was not Guilford’s wife and
concentrated their fire on
“Gil.”
IT WAS THEIR INTEN
TION TO KILL BOTH GUIL
FORD AND HIS WIFE, UN
DOUBTEDLY ! The dead are
silent and to the soulless fiends
who fired those shots, nothing
is sacred, nox even womans
hood. They intended killing
both Guilford atid his wife,
BUT THEY HESITATED TO
KILL A WOMAN THEY
HADN’T BEEN TOLD TO
KILL. They might forfeit their
“fee”! Miss Siede escaped, not
because the Fates were kind to
her, but because she was not
MRS. HOWARD A. GUIL
FORD !
Who- were these killers?
Who employed them ? WHO
WOULD BENEFIT BY GUILr
FORD’S DEATH? Who would
have an incentive to kill or
have killed? Within the last
eight years there has grown up
in this city the most powerful
blackmail and gambling syndi
cate that ever operated in the
Northwest. It has terrified the
public, it has intimidated po
lice administrations if it has
not controlled them. It has op
erated gambling hells in vari
ous sections of the city AND
WITHOUT INTERFERENCE
FROM THE LAW ENFORCE
MENT LEAGUE OR THE PO
LICE DEPARTMENT.
In our former issue neither
Guilford nor myself mentioned
names. I am going to, in this
issue, AND IF GANGLAND
WANTSi ME, GANGLAND
Saturday, Oct. 1, 1927
KNOWS DAMWELL THAT
I’LL MEET IT. AT ANY
PLACE IT DESIGNATES AND
GANGLAND KNOWS THAT
WHEN WE MEET (THEY
CAUGHT POOR OLD “GIL”
OFF HIS GUARD FOR A MO
MENT) THAT MY GUNS
WON’T BE IN THE INSIDE
POCKET OF A CAR.
The law declares that I and
thousands of other law-abiding
citizens shall go unarmed, yet
the law KNOWS that gang
land, sneering at the law,
scornful of it, IGNORING IT,
is armed to the teeth.
THE LAW ISN’T POWER
FUL ENOUGH TO DISARM
GANGLAND but it’s powerful
enough to require law-abiding
citizens to go' about unarmed
—to be shot down in cold blood
by a gang of murderous ruf
fians WHO KNOW THEY
ARE TAKING NO CHANCES
because the law has already
disarmed their victims. I re
spect the law. I am no an
archist, but I refuse to stand
defenseless while gangland
riddles MY body with bullets.
I know thst I am marked
“Next” on gangland’s list but
when I go, I’ll send one or
more rats over the Divide
ahead of me.
Neither Guilford or myself
are posing as “reformers.” We
are not “vice crusaders.” We
are simply tired of having our
names connected with that vile
sewer mop, the Twin City Re
porter; determined that its
gang rule of Minneapolis,
SHALL BE BROKEN, SHALL
END—NOW!
We—but let me go back a
few years to the beginning:
Mr. Guilford launched the
Twin City Reporter m 1313.
Early in 1916 I came down to
this city and went to work for
him as editor. That summer I
became acquainted with Jack
Bevans, the suave, smooth
“tough boy” from Chicago—
so “tough” that he had fled
that city in order to escape
PROVIDING FOOD, CLOTH
ING AND SHELTER FOR HIS
ONLY CHILD. He was about
two jumps ahead of the Chi
cago police.
Here he secured employment
on the TRIBUNE—the present
owner of the Twin City Report
er WAS AT ONE TIME EM
PLOYED AS POLICE RE
PORTER BY THE MINNEAP
OLIS DAILY TRIBUNE; For-