Letters From Alcatraz - Michael Esslinger [238]
Criminologists were also starting to publicly cast doubt on the effectiveness of Alcatraz as a deterrent for organized crime. The corrosive effects of the saltwater and the exorbitant cost of running the prison (Cost per inmate had risen to over $13.00 per day, as compared with $3.88 at USP Atlanta, not including an estimated five million dollars in expenses for restoration) provided U.S. Attorney General Robert Kennedy with grounds for closure.
An aerial view of Alcatraz before its closure in 1963.
Several photographs from 1962, showing the severe deterioration of the concrete structure.
The base of the north wall of the utility corridor inside the main cellhouse. Senior Officer James Lewis is seen indicating the gaps that had appeared in the crumbling cement, due to years of environmental corrosion.
In the autumn months of 1962, the Federal Bureau of Prisons started to transfer inmates to other institutions, and prepared to shut down the facility. Bureau Director James Bennett wrote:
During the 1960's, financial considerations determined the issue and freed me from my dilemma. Alcatraz's buildings and steel towers were gradually being eroded by the salt spray, and would cost several million dollars to restore. The cost of supplying the island prison was exorbitant since food and water had to be brought across the bay. Alcatraz was also expensive to run, because it was located far from the continental center of population, far from most of the other prisons, and men had to be transported long distances from and back to the East and Middle West.
The daily per-prisoner operating costs at Alcatraz were far higher than at any other federal institution. So we drew up plans for a new maximum security prison to be built in the heart of the continent at Marion, Illinois, which could be built and operated at a lower cost. When the federal funds were made available for the new prison, we could close Alcatraz down
On March 21, 1963, the final day of operation for Alcatraz, Warden Blackwell invited a press pool to witness the last small group of inmates leaving the Rock. On that day, twenty-seven inmates filed into the Mess Hall for the last time, and lined up at the steam tables for one final breakfast. Even on the last day of the prison’s operation, the meal period would last only twenty minutes, as the Warden was determined to adhere to the rigid regulations right up to the final hour. While the inmates sat in the Mess Hall, Deputy Director of the Bureau of Prisons Fred T. Wilkinson answered questions for the press, and took reporters on a brief tour of the cellhouse. After the inmates had filed back to their cells, each one was met by an officer and then handcuffed and shackled, and prepared for final departure.
Correctional Officer Keith Dennison standing guard inside the main cellhouse corridor on the day of the prison’s closure.
The inmates stood quietly until the cellhouse officer gave the final signal to march quietly down Broadway in a single-file procession. There were only the eerie sounds of the inmates’ shackles, and the snapping shutters from the press-pool cameras. Several men covered their faces as the flash bulbs burst off in quick succession, trying to capture the final march of prisoners at Alcatraz. Interestingly enough, the last inmate to be incarcerated at Alcatraz would also be the last to leave. Frank C. Weatherman, inmate #AZ-1576, was the last inmate to board the prison launch. When the press asked him how he felt about the closure, he uttered what would become the prison’s eulogy: “Alcatraz was never good for anybody.” The members of the press were then invited back into the cellhouse for coffee and donuts in the Mess Hall. Meanwhile the remaining officers