First of the Policy Kings
Bronzeville aka the black belt of Chicago was home to numerous pimps, whores, racketeers and gamblers in 1900 none more prominent than John "Mushmouth" Johnson. The first of the Bronzeville gambling czars, Johnson enjoyed a 17 year reign which began on the south side in 1890. Sprinkled throughout the downtown area, Johnson's gambling houses were often the scene of high stakes tournaments lasting days on end. Favored by many of the legendary gaming personalities of the day, any operation run by Mushmouth was known to be on the level.
In terms of size and splendor. Johson's casino located at 464 South State street was by far his most oppulent. A multi-purpose facility, the site also housed a popular saloon patronized by the cities elite. Johnson's political savy led him to set aside $20,000 during mayoral campaigns which he astutely split 50/50 between the Democratic and Republican candidates. In addition to an annual protection budget estimated at $50,000, Johnson made sure everyone from the flat foot to the notoriously corrupt political super powers were taken care of. The infamous duo of John "Bathouse" Coughlin and Michael "Hinky Dink" Kenna ensured Mush need not worry about troublesome police raids interrupting the rivers of cash and coin flowing into his coffers. The Gentleman GamblerIn furiated by eroding social conditions, Rev. Ransom won the respect and admiration of Mott by promising second ward Alderman Addison Ballard that he would personally see to his removal from office during the upcoming election period. Ballard responded with a hearty laugh, indicative of his disbelief. For all of his promises, Ransom was unnerved by the lack of a strong black political candidate to promote in opposition to Addison. He also recognized he lacked the finances needed had he been able to identify a viable candidate. Realizing he had painted himself into a corner and armed with a burning desire to see his promise through, Ransom struck a deal with Robert T. Mott, gentleman gambler. A Political AgendaRev. Ransom's battle was to take place on two fronts as he first had to allay the fears of church officers who strongly objected to his alliance with the polished yet unholey hustler. Ransom accomplished this feat at a special Wednesday night meeting which he closed by announcing "Mr. Robert Motts wants what we want and as long as a man is going my way to accomplish the same objectives, I am willing to walk with him." The following Sunday Rev. Ransom delivered a soul stirring sermon laced with political retoric aimed at rallying the troops. On this day the congregation softened some after learning that Bob Motts had pledged $1,000 toward the election campaign of Charles "Candy Man" Gunther. Gunther's march to victory began simultaneously in the pulpit of The Bethel A.M.E. Church and the saloon of Bob Motts. One can only imagine the shock and dismay of Alderman Ballard once the final talley had been amde and he learned he had lost his position of power courtesy of a street hustler turned political patron and a firery Methodist preacher. The election of Charles Gunther was followed by the election of Attorney Edward D. Green to the House of Representatives thanks to generous contributions from Robert Mott. As his success in backing political candidates increased so to did his interest and participation in second ward politics to the point that he came to be viewed as much a political boss as he was a gambler and racketeer. In pursuit of power, respect and influence Mott began paying the patrons of his saloon $5 per day to register black voters within the second ward and get them to the poles. During Mott's reign second ward social conditions improved drastically as did the perception of the black vote in city wide elections. No matter the brevity of Mott's reign as gambling czar (1907-08) his political activity proved to be far more important and long lasting as his example would be remembered and duplicated for years to come. Henry (Teenan) JonesPolitical intrigue and good old fashion back stabbing led to the ascent of Henry T. Jones and the fall of Bob Motts illicitly funded political organization. Jones, Motts and Daniel M. Jackson had all been members of Mush mouth Johnson's gambling ring and co-existed amicably on a social level in later years. Motts political success earned him as many enemies as he had admirers. Some of those enemies had once been friends or in the case of Edward H. Morris a disciple. Mott and Morris parted ways after Bob dealt the brilliant yet less than loyal former lawyer a crushing blow by arranging his removal from the Illinois assembly. Morris stunned Mott by introducing a bill which called for a state controlled lottery less than a year into his first term (1902). The bill ultimately failed and Mott quickly retaliated by grooming, sponsoring and promoting the rise politically of the aforementioned Edward D. Green. Green was a close personal friend of Mott's gambling cohort Henry T. Jones and thus promised to be more compliant to the whishes of his benefactors than the ungrateful free thinking Morris. In a move which most certainly signaled the end of an era, Morris to turned his back on Mott throwing his lot in with rising political star Martin B. Madden. Madden was said to have been the liason between city hall and the second ward gambling bosses. With two betrayals fresh in his mind, Mott became desperate and abandoned his usually cautious mode of operation. Uncharacteristically Mott agreed to invest in a venture outside of his sphere of protection. In conjunction with the Jones brothers "Teenan and Giver Damn," Mott opened a white only theater on the north side of town. The old Columbia Theater opened at Clark and Division streets to great aplomb on February 23, 1908 yet struggled mightly before shutting its doors on May 8 of the same year. More important than the loss of income was the respect within the second ward. Mott's attempt to curry favor with white gamblers was either an ill-conceived attempt to expand his power or a last desperate attempt to hang on to the power base he had worked so hard to obtain. Whatever the reason the deal proved to be the ultimate undoing of Motts. Robbed of his political influence, financial stability and health, Robert T. Mott died in July 1911. Mott was buried in grand style as four thousand of his constituents and esteemed colleagues showed up to pay their respects and say goodbye to an old friend.  Henry Jones was the more prominent half of a south side duo which briefly grabbed the reigns of power in Bronzeville. Born in Alabama, the Jones brothers were raised in downstate Illinois but moved north when Henry was 16. Jones became an underworld fixture after opening the Lakeside Club a flourishing saloon in Hyde Park during the mid 1890s. Jones aligned himself with John "Mush mouth" Johnson erstwhile kingpin and mentor to future underworld leaders. With Johnson's tutelage and connections, Jones developed into a promising businessman, gambling operator and a brilliant political strategist. One major difference existed between the Lakeside Club and Johnson's State street casino. The Jones operations catered primarily but not exclusively to Hyde Park's clientele of white gamblers and boozers. Jones club and casino were fixtures in Hyde Park for 15 years before being run out of town by the Hyde Park Improvement Protective Association whose stated goal was to run all of the niggers "sinners and saints alike out of Hyde Park." Realizing the end of a very good thing, Jones packed his money bags and moved his clubs to the black belts equivalent of Broadway combined with the Vegas strip. Prior to their opening in the 300 block of State street, Teenan and Giver Damn named their two clubs after the establishments that housed them the Windermere and Lakeside Clubs. The Windermere and Lakeside operations were rechristened Elite clubs #1 and #2. Both locations proved to be wildly profitable and provided the bulk of the financing for the Jones brothers political activities. Jones "as Mott and to a smaller degree Johnson," aggressively courted any politician regardless of race if he had even the slightest inkling of power or influence. Jones shrewd investing in political figures provided him with a direct link to the Mayors office. The small detail of who was sitting in the big chair be it Carter Harrison, George Swift, Fred Busse or Edward Dunne, Teenan Jones was held in high esteem. As Jones authority usurped that of Bob Motts, Mayor Harrison issued an order closing all Chicago gambling houses except those run by "Negroes." The official reason given for this unusual exemption was given as "Jim Crow laws restricted the recreational activities in which Negroes could participate; therefore, I feel it would be therapeutic to permit them to shoot craps so long as it is within the confines of the black belt." Obviously Harrison stood to benefit from this order as white and black gamblers flocked to Teenan's Elite clubs #1 and #2 in record numbers. Suddenly the black belt became the center of Chicago's nightlife. A night on the town during this period usually began with a show at one of four black owned theaters (the grand, Vendome, Manram) with the most impressive being Jones's Pekin Theater. Other popular belt nightspots were the Cafe de Champion owned by colorful heavy weight champion Jack Johnson, the Dreamland Cafe and the Panama. In an effort to distinguish his club's from all others, Jones hired the top entertainers of the day such as legendary Jazz figure Jelly Roll Morton to ensure a good time was had by all.  For the mountain of cash rolling in from his black belt investments, it all paled in comparison to the income the Jones brothers made running numbers on the south side. While Henry ran the saloons, nightclubs and doled out political protection payments, Sam supervised their thriving numbers operation. Less polished in his mannerism than his brother, Sam is said to have earned his nickname during a court appearance in which he replied to the Judges order of paying a $100 fined with the curt reply, "I don't give a damn." When the judge doubled the fine Sam repeated his initial statement. This exchange went on until the fine reached $500 at which Sam wheeled around peeling five crisp bills from the pocket of his finely tailored suite passing them over his shoulder to a trailing minion who hurried off to settle the manner in the judge's chamber. Henry Jones donated large sums to civic, cultural and athletic organizations yet was suspended from the Mason's because of his "shady dealings." The Jones run ended in scandal as Teenan appeared as a witness against Oscar DePriest Chicago's first black alderman. The dye was cast as Teenan admitted to heading a gambling combine and serving as the bagman for DePriest in 1917. Dan the man takes overDaniel M. Jackson operated as a silent partner to the Bronzeville overlords for three decades. The ultimate authority in Bronzeville, Jackson ran gambling halls and saloons all while dabbling in second ward politics as a partner of Robert T. Motts and the Jones brothers. It was Jackson who brought Edward Green to the attention of Mott in his drive for a seat in the House of Representatives and then opened the door for the well to do batchelor with Martin Madden as his star rose at city hall. On the surface Jackson appeared to be little more than the local mortician but in reality he was the brains behind his brother-in-law (Bob Mott) as well as the Jones boys. 
When Mott died Dan's wife Lucy inherited her brother's entire estate. In short order Dan opened a casino in the Pekin Theater and simultaneously expanded the size of the small casino he had run for years in the parlor of the family undertaking business located in the 2600 block of South State street. Toward the end of his career, Jackson served as the link between black belt gamblers and Mayor Big Bill Thompson. Jackson by this time had condensed his gambling interests to a small casino known as the Dunbar club on South Michigan Ave.
While maintaining a low profile yet powerful prescence in gaming circles, Jackson began to focus on political action as prohibition and racial strife severely curbed the profits made in the saloons and gambling houses located in the black belt. More and more black belt racketeers depended on the numbers game to subsidize their income. Jackson of course was the man they turned to inorder to keep the path clear for their runners, collectors and bankers. The Numbers Game RebornOn the heals of the Jones brothers Dan Jackson supported the Kelly boys. This trio of brothers ran one of the most successful policy wheels during the early 20s. From their headquarters on 29th and State streets, the brothers "Illy, Ross and Kelly," fortunes swung wildly soaring at times and bottoming out months later forcing the trio out of business. In the best of times, the Kelly's Tia Juana wheel earned thousands of dollars daily much of which was then passed onto Dan Jackson for for distribution at city hall. As the Kelly boys gained valuable experience Illy Kelly emerged as the undisputed leader of the group. At his urging the brothers opened other thriving wheels such as the Lucky Strike, Lake Michigan and Greyhound which provided them with enough operating capitol to open a string of gambling houses and blind pigs. Part of the cash flow problem the Kelly's often experienced stemmed from their generous nature. The polished well educated trio went out of their way to serve as benefactors to the patrons of their wheels and gambling establishments often paying rent, buying groceries and clothing for needy families. These acts of generosity were repaid as the denizens of the Bronzeville religously supported the Kelly brothers operations without fail.  The Policy Game Under AttackBlack support of the Republican candidates was half the cause Chicago Mayor Anton Cermak in his own words was stung by the rejection of his "effort to woo the colored vote on behalf of Democratic Mayoral candidates William E. Dever (1923) and Edward Sneed in 1928." Cermak frequently claimed to have done more to secure the Negro vote than any previous Democrat and pledged that under his leadership "colored folk will not only retain their jobs but would get more." Inspite of Cermak's campaign promises most black belt gamblers continued the time honored tradition of directing their block of votes to the Republican candidate who at this juncture was William H. Thompson. Cermak's victory was a costly miscalculation for black belt racketeers as the new Mayor made it a priority to break the Republican stronghold over the black vote which meant destroying the existing political alliances by depriving them of their financial support. Cermak's plan was instituted two days after the election closed and 13 days before his inauguration, Cermak showed up at City Hall and took control of the Mayors office. The day Cermak took office he fired 3,000 city workers the majority of which were black and all supporters of the Republican party. This unprecedented act was undertaken to deprive the Republican machine of "its nuts and bolts." With the first part of his plan instituted, Mayor Cermak turned his attention to the gambling lords of the 2nd, 3rd and 4th wards. The offensive launched July 11, 1931 on the direct order of the Mayor, Democratic Judge Samuel Heller issued a search warrant calling for the arrest of Jules Benvenutti one of the first Italian's to operate a policy wheel on the southside. The Benvenutti brothers "Jules, Leo and Caesar," operated in the same area "29th and State," as the Kelly brothers controlling the popular Blue Racer wheel. Jules quietly surrendered and pled guilty to possession of gambling paraphernalia. The arrest did little to deter the popularity of the numbers racket as Jules quickly returned to business. Cermak instigated raids continued throughout his first summer in office concluding with the arrest of George and McKissick Jones on Monday, September 21, 1931. Eddie And The JunkmanThe leader of the group was Edward who led his brothers into the policy business after their father died in the early '20s. Jones parlayed a $1,500 investment into the Goldfield wheel which within a few months of its inception provided the Jones boys with enough capitol to launch three other wheels. Jones realized Cermak's power lay in his ability to bring considerable heat on his operation and thus struck a deal with the Mayor which led to the rise of William R. Skidmore as a key player in Chicago gambling circles. 
A good friend of Mayor Cermak Skidmore vigorously supported the Democratic party and was rewarded handsomely for his efforts when Cermak awarded him the city contract to haul scrap iron. This arrangement proved to be little more than a concession as gamblers of all persuasion flocked to 2840 South Kedzie to pass on their weekly tribute to Mayor Cermak. Skidmore aligned himself with Cermak in his bid to destroy the Capone mob. To acheive this goal Billy sought out alliance with anyone willing to go to war with the powerful syndicate. In addition to his junk business, Skidmore functioned as a bail bondsman, gambler and fence. He had been a regular visitor to Johnny Torrio's Four Deuces Salon which sat 2222 South Wabash Ave.
A skilled political functionary, Skidmore had been charged with running a graft ring in 1917 on behalf of then Cheif of police Charles C. Healey. Healey lost his job but Skidmore escaped punishment and continued to act in the same capacity throughout the '20s, 30s and a portion of the '40s. As a show of solidarity with Mayor Cermak in his war against the Capone gang, Skidmore courted the Bugs Moran gang, Jack Zutta and bagged tribute from the Jones, Kelly and Benvenutti brothers. Inspite of Mayor Cermak's war on policy the Jones brothers flourished with minimal interference from police or anyone else until the death of the Junkman in 1944. The Jones Brothers posperFrom their headquarters at 4724 South Michigan, the Jones brothers employed anywhere from 250 to 500 fulltime employees making them the largest employer within the black belt. With the proceeds of their thriving empire, the Jones boys purchased the Ben Franklin department store on 47th Street which added another 150 people to their payroll. This purchase was followed in short order by a food store at 43rd and Prairie, a string of apartment houses on the southside and four hotels. For their widowed mother, the brothers purchased villa's in Paris and Mexico in addition to a summer home in Peoria. Eddie took great pride in the Mexican villa which he named Lomas Dechapuotepec. When the brothers were absent the place was run by popular cabaret singer Ida "Brick top" Smith who inspite of her own wealth and celebrity took great care of the Jones property. On the streets of Chicago, the Jones brothers were icons. Symbols of the dreams and wishes of the impoverished people they so readily exploited. Make no mistake about it the Jones brothers did exploit their patrons, probably to a greater extent than any of their predecessors with the exception of Mush mouth Johnson. Eddie Jones with his polished demeanor meticulously tailored suites and beautifully manicured hands was "distrustful and miserly," when it came to dealing with other black operators. Jones never parted with a dollar in the black belt that didn't stand a chance of returning home with a friend or two.  Most of the Jones money went toward fine clothes and expensive furnishings like those found in his home along south Michigan Ave. When mobster Sam Giancana visited the Jones home he later reported to a confidant "I had no ideal there were niggers who lived like that." What Giancana found was an immaculate palace decorated with fine French provincial furniture sitting black carpet so plush your feat sunk in nearly to your ankle. Expensive murals and imported paintings adorned every wall. The restrooms were no less impressive with their gold gold fixtures and monogrammed towels. Eddie's wife Lydia "a beautiful former member of the chorus line at the famous cotton club," greeted guests wearing a wardrobe of silk and or satin house dresses topped off with an expensive mink. For all of the black earned dollars the Jones's made, an all white cast comprised their management staff. Jones penchant for relying on and taking white racketeers into his confidence would cost him dearly in the years to come.  Thieve in the TempleEddie Jones reportedly met mobster Sam Giancana while serving time for income tax evasion. Jones impressed the wild eyed muscleman with his charm, grace and manners. Giancana was a product of his environment, vehemently racist in his views of blacks yet Eddie Jones sought to take him into his confidence. The initial introduction of Jones and Giancana was most likely made prior to the two landing in prison but assuming they didn't no one another it is a safe bet to assume William Skidmore did the honors as the old Chicago middleman was among those serving time in Leavenworth. Jones realized muscle like Giancana could be useful as a rackets war was underway which had claimed the life of Illy Kelly's brother Teddy in January 1939. The Kelly's were a troublesome duo as their financial stability evened out. Illy and Teddy "also known as Hoppy," sought to expand their influence and steaily applied heat to the Jones brothers wheels employing a busy team of gunmen who beat, robbed and sometimes murdered their competitors. Teddy had at one time paid $35,000 to Italian racketeers in exchange for his freedom after a kidnapping episode. Since that time the brothers fortunes had soared and there wheels were under the protection of Alderman Louis B. Anderson Illy's son-in-law. The importance of the Kelly brothers in the career of Alderman Anderson was demonstrated by the arrangement the politician made to his hired help. Corneal Davis "who often served as the Alderman's chauffer," related that he regularly picked up his pay check from a business at 5051 South Michigan Ave., the site of the Kelly brothers headquarters. The death of Teddy Kelly left Eddie and the Jones brothers as the dominant operators in the black belt. Other operators figured prominently in the day to day action but on a much lower level than Eddie and the boys. The policy game could be a rough business with gun play a fact of life. Policy men on the scale of Eddie Jones often employed a legion of ready triggers to protect them or initiate a takeover. Teddy Roe was one such character. Roe like his employers ran his own wheel but that is where the similarity between the two begin and end. Roe like Giancana was a product of his environment and resented the interference of the Italian rackets figure in "their business." Brash and gregarious, Roe was known as the mulatto wild man. Roe often bragged that no man would muscle in on his action black, white or other. Sam Giancana decided to test Roe and see just how much of Teddy was talk. Roe responded as he always did, violently. When Giancana threatened to expose Roe's operation in the papers if he didn't come up with $4,000, Roe laughed. Sam then resorted to diplomacy asking George Jones to handle the manner. When Jones approached Roe on Giancana's behalf, he got an ear full and a flat no. At this point Giancana resorted to threats and during one face to face encounter obscenities were traded back and fourth. The episode ended after a brief physical scuffle between the two was ended by Eddie Jones. The following day Giancana received a phone call from Roe indicating Teddy knew exactly where Giancana was along with the ominous threat "If you are not gone in five minutes, I am going to find out just how tough you are." Giancana's retort was "The next time we meet you will be glad to talk to us."  The meeting never occured and Roe continued to resist the mobs attempts to force him out of business at every turn. The heated battle carried on for the better part of 6 years with casualty's mounting on both sides. Giancana forces bombed Roe's home and Teddy retaliated by killing Fat Lenny Caifano a life long friend of Sams.  The two sides kept each other at bay occasionally launching an offensive attack aimed at rattling the opposition. In ther interim, outsiders looked on and wondered if the war would ever end. Through it all Teddy Roe maintained his swagger never wavering in his resolve. As wheel after wheel folded, Roe's wheels continued to flourish providing him with an income suitable for a man of his tastes. Teddy was no less of a dandy than Eddie Jones in terms of dress, silk monogrammed shirts, custom suites, alligator shoes, hand painted ties and wide brimmed stetson hats were as much a part of Roe's lore as his infamous temper. With the entire southside of Chicago rooting for Roe to emerge victorious, the war ended as suddenly as it had begun. On the evening of August 4, 1952 Theodore "Teddy" Roe was cut down in a hail of bullets fired by two unidentified white males as he prepared to get into a brand new Buick outside of his home at 5239 South Michigan Ave. Roe probably never saw the assassins as he was struck twice in the back by two shotgun charges. Roe's death sparked outrage from black politicians who blamed Mayor Martin Kennelly's lax attitude towards crimes committed by the Italian mob. Teddy Roe was laid to rest in a ceremony rivaling those of the bootleg barons of the 1920s. 4,000 people filed slowly past Roe's $5,000 bronze casket adorned with $10,000 worth of flowers. Songs sung by a choir 150 strong were rudely interrupted by a team of raiding Chicago storm troopers who to the shock and dismay of all present arrested 5 of Roe's 6 pallbearers. This action nearly caused a riot as Roe's friends, relatives and associates were still smarting due to the obvious lack of effort put fourth in solving his murder. Mickey Cobb last of the policy kings.Teddy Roe acheived near mythical status in his stand against the mob. No one thought he would survive as long as he did and in his fight a community took pride. During the heyday of the numbers racket, wheel operators were cornerstones in their community. Some managed to obtain mainstream respectability like realtor Julian Black and his partner John Roxborough who directed the career of Heavyweight boxing legend Joe Louis. Most were unknown to all but a few who firmly believed their ticket to a better life lay on the slip of paper they received in exchange for their nickels and dimes. Today state sponsored lotteries have rendered the numbers racket obsolete. The last man to hold the title of numbers king was former Chicago gang leader Henry "Mickey Cobb" Cogwell. During the mid 70s Mickey became the first black boss in the policy business since the murder of Teddy Roe. Cobb used muscle provided by the Black P-Stone Nation a collection of Chicago street gangs numbering in the thousands. Utterly unconcerned about reprisal attacks from an aging Chicago mob, Cobb used his position as President of Local 304 of the Hotel and Restaurant Workers Union as his front in the numbers business. Mickey's runners were seen making drops at Union headquarters. Like Roe, Mickey Cobb was shot in the back in front of his home in February 1977 effectively ending the reign of the last black power figure in the numbers racket.  |
