Hidden Americans

Faster Than Light—James Thomas “Cool Papa” Bell (1903–1991) might have set all sorts of records in major league baseball had he not played before the color barrier was broken by Jackie Robinson in 1946. As it was, Bell became one of the all-time greats of the old Negro Leagues. Bell starred on a number of teams, most notably the Pittsburgh Crawfords, regarded as one of the best squads ever assembled. Among Bell’s teammates were future National Baseball Hall of Famers Satchel Paige, Judy Johnson, Josh Gibson, and Oscar Charleston. Bell began his career as a pitcher, but because of his amazing speed he was shifted to the outfield. Once timed zipping around the bags in twelve seconds, Bell recalled stealing 173 bases in 1933 (the modern era single season record is 130, set by Rickey Henderson in 1982). Satchel Paige said Bell was so speedy he could turn off the light in his room and be in bed before it was dark. Others claimed that Bell once hit a grounder up the middle and made it to second before the ball got there. One startling feat that is true is that he scored from first on a bunt in an all-star game. Bell, who turned down a major league contract in 1951—at age forty-eight!—was inducted into the National Baseball Hall of Fame in 1974.

Pistol-Packin’ Nellie—Nellie Madison (1895–1953) had an affinity for the number six—six slugs in her pistol and six husbands to her credit, one of whom she would blast to kingdom come. Born Nellie May Mooney, Madison grew up on a Montana sheep ranch. At thirteen, she eloped with a local cowboy, although her parents had the marriage annulled. By 1930, the fast-living Madison had wed and divorced three more times. In 1933, she married Eric Madison, who turned out to be a wife-beater. The new Mrs. Madison ended that behavior in their Burbank, California, apartment on March 24, 1934, when she put her husband on a strict lead diet. Arrested and charged with first-degree murder, the tall, attractive widow was portrayed by the news media as the type of femme fatale that would become popular in noir fiction. On June 23, 1934, Madison was found guilty of murder and sentenced to be hanged—the first woman in California to face the death penalty. After a year on death row, she admitted to the killing, citing her husband’s abuse. When a previous wife of Eric Madison corroborated his abuse, Nellie Madison’s sentence was reduced to life in prison. In March 1943, she was set free. After one last marriage, she died in July 1953.

The Bee’s Knees—Lorenzo Langstroth (1810–1895) had three main interests—the ministry, teaching, and bees. Born in Philadelphia, Langstroth launched his career in religion and education after graduating from Yale. For several years, he alternated between preaching and teaching in Andover and Greenfield, Massachusetts. In 1848, he became the principal of a girls’ school in Philadelphia. During his spare time, Langstroth pursued his third passion: beekeeping. For centuries, bees had been kept in domed straw hives called skeps, which had certain drawbacks. For one thing, the closed hives made it hard to examine the bees for parasites or disease. A bigger problem was that the bees had to be driven off or killed in order to collect their honey, since the combs were attached to the inside walls of the skeps. To overcome these disadvantages, Langstroth designed a wooden beehive that opened at the top and featured removable frames, permitting inspection of the hive and extraction of the honeycombs without harming the bees. Created in 1851, the Langstroth hive is now used by three-fourths of the world’s beekeepers, but patent infringements in his lifetime kept “the father of modern beekeeping” from making much money from his invention.

A Wasted Life—Growing up in an impoverished California family in the 1920s and ’30s, Caryl Chessman (1921–1960) turned to petty thievery as a youngster. During high school, he ran with a crowd involved in burglary and car theft. In 1937, he was busted for stealing from a merchant’s till, and he was in and out of reform school for other crimes committed as a juvenile. He received his first prison sentence—five years to life in San Quentin—for robbing a gas station soon after being paroled from a work camp in 1940. In 1943, he was transferred to a minimum-security prison but promptly escaped, earning him a return to San Quentin. Paroled in 1947, he was arrested for robbery, kidnapping, and rape less than two months later. A jury didn’t believe his claims of innocence, and he was given the death penalty. While spending the next twelve years on death row, Chessman wrote four books. The autobiographical Cell 2455, Death Rowbecame an international bestseller and was made into a movie in 1955. Although Chessman won broad support from opponents of the death penalty, he was executed on May 2, 1960. Whether guilty or innocent of the deeds for which he died, there’s little doubt that he squandered his life and his obvious talents through crime.

Publishing Visionary—Hugo Gernsback (1884–1967) loved peering into the future. As the publisher of America’s first science fiction magazine, he helped popularize stories combining “scientific fact and prophetic vision.” Contributors complained about slow or nonexistent payments, but Gernsback’s status is reflected in the name of the top honor for sci-fi writers—the Hugo Awards. Immigrating to New York City from Luxembourg in 1904, Gernsback got his start selling parts and equipment to amateur radio operators. In 1908, he launched a parts catalog/magazine called Modern Electrics.In 1911, he began serializing a science fiction novel he’d written called Ralph 124C 41+. The story proved popular, leading Gernsback to publish other science fiction pieces. In 1926, he launched Amazing Stories, the first English-language magazine devoted exclusively to science fiction. Amazing Stories went bankrupt after three years, but Gernsback followed it with several similar magazines. While none of his science fiction titles thrived, Gernsback had success with his more mainstream magazines, including Science and Invention, which merged with Popular Mechanicsin 1931. A talented inventor, he also pioneered radio and television broadcasting in New York.

Monetizing the Dead—During the late nineteenth century’s explosion of interest in Spiritualism, phony mediums filled theaters and drawing rooms throughout America and Europe, gulling willing dupes out of whatever they could. Even prominent figures such as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Mary Todd Lincoln believed in the hocus-pocus. Among prominent Spiritualists, few were more brazen in their fakery than Ann O’Delia Diss Debar (ca. 1849–1911). Magician Harry Houdini—who did much to expose Spiritualism’s chicanery—noted that Diss Debar was “one of the most extraordinary fake mediums and mystery swindlers the world has ever known.” Claiming to be the daughter of King Ludwig I of Bavaria, the Kentucky-born trickster swindled a wealthy New York lawyer out of a valuable townhouse—earning six months in jail in 1888. Despite several other stints in the slammer, Diss Debar always bounced back, reinventing herself as Laura Horos, Vera Ava, or any of another half dozen aliases. In 1901, she was sentenced to seven years in an English prison for property fraud and sexual offenses. She ran cons in Baltimore, Chicago, and New Orleans during her career, and in 1909, she popped up in Cincinnati before finally disappearing.

Anonymous Benefactor—People tend to take the modern porta-potty for granted—if they give it any thought at all. But most of us can probably recall times when one of these outdoor conveniences has saved the day. The person who came up with the idea for today’s portable toilet remains nameless. The moveable outhouses are said to have originated in the 1940s, when workers at the Long Beach, California, shipyards were provided with onboard wooden johns so they wouldn’t waste time by traipsing back to the docks whenever Mother Nature called. Eventually, the primitive wooden toilets were replaced with fiberglass models, and today most porta-potties are made of polyethylene. One of the first companies to produce rental porta-potties was started in the 1950s by a chap named Andy Gump, whose Southern California company is still in business. Rental companies usually recommend one unit for every fifty persons at public gatherings—a ratio that might persuade some folks that they’d rather stay at home. At one appearance by the Pope in Germany, a mind-boggling 8,000 portable toilets were assembled. Now that’s something to think about…or not.

Both Hands in the Till—State legislator and ward boss George Washington Plunkitt (1842–1924) wasn’t your average politician. Oh, he was just as scheming and avaricious as the next officeholder, but unlike most of the prevaricating polecats with the audacity to call themselves public servants, Plunkitt didn’t hide his malfeasance. A leader in the legendary Tammany Hall political machine, which had a lock on New York City’s government from the mid-1800s to the early 1900s, Plunkitt made a fortune by capitalizing on insider knowledge about public works projects. He called such profits “honest graft,” blithely excusing his corruption with the immortal phrase, “I seen my opportunities and I took ’em.” Machines like Tammany Hall once existed in nearly every big city in America. They were usually run on the principle that government exists primarily to fatten the bank accounts of the bosses and their pals—the familiar “spoils system,” with its flagrant patronage appointments and shadowy backroom deals. However, when it came to whitewashing their dishonesty, few of the old political bosses could match G. W. Plunkitt, a man who thought that abusing a position of trust was just good business.

The Black Edison—Even Thomas Edison had to tip his hat to Granville T. Woods (1856–1910), a black inventor who patented dozens of creations, selling many to giants such as General Electric, Westinghouse, and Bell Telephone. Woods managed to accomplish this in an era when African Americans had few chances for advancement. Born in Ohio, Woods quit school when he was ten to learn the skills of a machinist and blacksmith. He got much of his education on the job, in machine shops and steel mills, but he also attended night school and private classes. He worked his way up from railroad fireman to engineer, and by 1880 he’d become chief engineer on a British steamship, a position he gave up to establish his own research company in Cincinnati. His first patent was for an improved steam boiler furnace. Electrical innovations that he developed sped the rise of urban rail systems. One of his greatest inventions was the multiplex telegraph, which enabled communication between train stations and moving trains for the first time, improving efficiency and reducing accidents. The innovation was so successful that Edison tried to horn in on Woods’s patents. After losing his lawsuits, Edison tried to hire Woods, but the black inventor turned him down.

Pirate in Petticoats—Rachel Schmidt (ca. 1760–1789) may have had a biblical given name, but she was an unholy terror. Said to be the first female American pirate, she took part in the murders of some two dozen sailors in the early 1780s. Born on a farm near Carlisle, Pennsylvania, Schmidt chafed under the discipline of her devout Presbyterian parents. She escaped by eloping with a veteran of the Revolutionary War, an iffy sort named George Wall. The couple settled in Boston, where Rachel found work as a maid while George went to sea on a fishing schooner. In 1781, George Wall came up with a devilish scheme that involved his wife and five of his friends. The gang pretended to be fishermen whose vessel had been disabled by a storm. Rachel’s job was to play the damsel in distress, calling out to any passing ship for help. When a rescuer came near, the pirates swarmed aboard, killing the crew, seizing their cargo, and sinking their ship. George Wall drowned at sea in 1782, leaving Rachel to continue her life of crime in Boston. In 1789, she was arrested for robbing a young woman. Confessing to acts of piracy, she made her final appearance at the end of a rope, the last woman to be hanged in Massachusetts.