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‘Sheriffing’ Remembered . . .Men are like buildings. When they are young, they are the center of attraction. But when they get old, they are often forgotten.And sheriffs are like jails. When they are used, everyone knows and respects them as thesymbol of law in the county. But when they are replaced, they often fade into the hazy memories of reminiscing old-timers.With the destruction of the Franklin County jail, the 67-year-old brick building that was for so long the husband of the Franklin County courthouse, memories of olden times, “sheriffing’' days in Franklin County come briefly to life.Law enforcement in Ottawa’s early days was difficult. Horse thieves were hanged. Saloon enthusiasts and temperance leaders were in constant battle. John Brown brought bloodshedinto the county. Indians were also a problem.To try to bring some sort of order to the county, a jail was begun in Ottawa in 1865 at a cost of nearly $20,000. It was the first jail in Franklin County. The two-story building, measuring 34 by 47 feet, was made entirely of wood.However, it was torn down and the Franklin County jail was started in 1906 at the site of the old jail. The Franklin County jail was made of limestone with iron cells and also cost around $20,000. Ottawa’s city jail was in the basement; the county jail on the main floor. The top floor was originally planned to keep the insane. The lone prisoner at the old jail was transferred to Olathe while the old jail was destroyed and the Franklin County jail was built The Franklin County jail also had facilities to house the sheriff and his family.Oldest living former sheriff of Franklin County is L. C. “Louie” Geiger, who was elected in 1928.Geiger said he had nevdthought about being sheriff until one day when a friend whom he was talking to on the street asked, “Geiger, why don’t you run for sheriff?”He went home, talked it over with his wife, Myrtle, and decided to run. Geiger was elected and became head of the two-man (including himself) Franklin County Sheriff’s Department.“Those were years of hard times,” Geiger said. “A dollar looked mighty big.”He explained that much of his time was devoted to selling real estate at foreclosures. Once a week, the county had a sale of property on which taxes had not been paid. Many of the people who were forced to sell their farms remained as tenants and bought back the farms when times got better.Checks were just coming into style and Geiger said he had many no-fund checks to trace. He also had problems with bootleggers.“This was one of the few ways people had of making a quarter. At least it got them something to eat. Cattle weren’t even worth rustling,” he said.But, it was his job to crack down on bootleggers. He tells the story about finding a still outside Ottawa. Instead of smashing it like some law officials did, he took it apart and re-assembled it at the trial of the bootleggers he had caught.“And I’ll be damned if the jury didn’t find them innocent,” he said. He said he suspects that the jury members felt sorry for them or were fearful of having their own supplies dried up.Another story he tells is about the death of a child on a train. It seems that a man gave his wife some poisoned candy for her to eat while taking a train ride. Instead of eating it herself, sheInnocently gave it to some children sitting beside her. The children became sick and one died.The candy was traced to the husband, who was arrested. He did not admit the act, though, until Geiger’s wife talked to him for several hours. She is the one who got the confession from him.He admitted he had poisoned his first wife, too.Geiger speaks fondly about the old times when the sheriff and his wife lived in the same building as the jail facilities. Geiger said Myrtle played checkers with the “boys” for hours and she learned more from them than anyone else could.Geiger said it was he and his wife’s policy to keep the prisoners, who numbered as many as 35, well fed.“If a man has a stomach full, he is a pretty good fellow,” Geiger pointed out.But times have changed, Geiger admits. He said law enforcement officials now have to know nearly as much as attorneys. There are so many law’sto watch out for.“Before, all we had to do was go and get ’em,” he said.Since being sheriff, he has been in the real estate business and at age 88, he maintains his real estate license. He and his daughter, Mrs. Florence Burke, live at 411 S. Locust.V. M. “Pete” Kinnison, 829 W. 5th, was sheriff from 1947 through 1950 but had served as an Ottawa policeman for 11 years before that;He said that one Saturday night when he was patroling Homewood, the action town of the 1950s, a small-sized prisoner escaped from the county jail. The other two prisoners involved in the break-out were caught. But, officers used the newly-installedshould be seen more often than at the scene of an accident or arrest.Kinnison, who worked for the State Department of Weights and Measures from the time he ended his term as sheriff to his retirement in 1962, spoke well of his relationship with prisoners.“I always tried to reason with them,” the 81-year-old man said. “They have their side. But, there is the side of the law, too. I tried not to leave anyone but that I could shake hands with ihim the next day.”Jack Oneal was sheriff from 1952 to 1955, and is the only former sheriff who does not live in the area. He is a salesman for Bucyrus-Erie, a dairy company in Birmingham, Ala.Having been undersheriff under Oneal, Jay Brown, who now lives in Williamsburg, was sheriff from 1956 to 1959. He is semi-retired but drives a Williamsburg school bus.Brown was sheriff during what he calls four pretty quiet years.” Like across the country during the Eisenhower years, people were enjoying the quiet of post-war days.He said that while he was sheriff, one prisoner hung himself with his own belt. Now, prisoners’ belts are taken from them.Brown said he was sorry to see the Franklin County jail torn down. It brought back a lot of good memories.“But, I suppose you have to live with the modern times,” he said.Max Gilmore followed Brown as sheriff. He served two terms as sheriff and then several terms as undersheriff. He resigned in 1969 to become a state parole officer.“I cut my teeth pretty fast when I became sheriff,” Gilmore said, referring to the fact that two suicides and one murder occurred the first three days he was sheriff.He said he expects people will remember the King-ChaseOttawa Hera Id, Saturday, December 29,1973 Page 6*%. i' GElt;' • 24- F*‘ ■ ■«' A'trM■ \% * %SHERIFFS—Five of the seven Franklin County sheriffs living line up in front of the Franklin County Jail. All of them lived and worked in the building that has since been torn down. Seated are V. M. Kinnison and L. C. Geiger. Standing are Jay Brown, Joe Ferns, and Lewis Ashcraft.. . But Only Brieflyreal estate property.Ferns said that during his term there were several attempted jailbreaks and a couple that succeeded. He tells the story about one convict who was wanted in twelve states. His girlfriend slipped some saw blades to him. He hit the jailer over the head and sawed his way out of jail. The jailer was able to get the attention of the dispatcher and the attempted jailbreak was stopped. The girl was chargedfamily, though, Ferns said. “The older one gets, the harder it is to get up in the middle of the night to answer an emergency call. So, I thought it was time to let a younger guy take over.”The younger person who became sheriff nearly a year ago is 30-year-old Lewis Ashcraft. Ashcraft heads a department that is considerably larger than the one Geiger headed nearly 45 years ago.The present Franklin County*jpssw•v/-; l'-w'.'-.-.- •* .M•Vr’V'V'.V \
Newspaper Details
Ottawa Herald
Ottawa, Kansas, US
Sat, Dec 29, 1973
Page 3
Full Page
Clipped by
Diana S.
KS, USA 12 Dec 2018
Other Publications Near Ottawa, Kansas
Ottawa Campus
Ottawa Daily Republican
Ottawa Herald
