Hello, everyone, and welcome to another edition of Canal Stories, a series brought to you by the Canal Corridor Association to celebrate the 175th anniversary of the Illinois & Michigan Canal and the communities that were shaped by its legacy. When we last left our rebellious friend, Tom Cawley, the infamous “Czar of Gambling” was feeling quite untouchable.
Despite countless raids by law enforcement, a grand jury’s attempt to crack down on his business, and a condemning exposé in the local newspaper, Cawley and his beloved gambling house had survived unscathed. It seemed that Cawley’s enduring luck could always be counted on to carry him through sticky situations. Little did he know that his thriving empire was about to meet its biggest threat of all. Today, we’re strapping in for Tom Cawley’s final stand against justice, as his infamous empire teeters on the brink of destruction. Once again, this story comes to us from our friend, Steve Stout, and was originally published in his classic book, Starved Rock Stories.
The start of the 1950s was the beginning of the end of the Kelly and Cawley era, when Tom Cawley’s path crossed that of United States Senator Estes Kefauver, an ambitious politician from Tennessee who found national prominence as he attempted to expose organized crime throughout the country. As chairman of the U.S. Senate Special Committee to Investigate Crime in Interstate Commerce, Kefauver conducted hearings across the nation that led to the already accepted conclusion that gambling in the nation was almost invariably connected with organized crime. He also publicized his contention that organized crime and political corruption went hand-in-hand in a most profitable alliance. In his personal memoirs of the congressional hearings, “Crime in America,” Kefauver wrote,
“The pattern suggested so far (by the committee’s probes) is that crime and contempt for the law are big city operations. That is not necessarily so… Had time permitted, I should have liked the Senate Crime Investigation Committee to conduct at least one complete case study of such a small-town operation. The small cities and towns, as has often been said, are the backbone of America. If corruption threatens to take over small towns, it is important that we find out about it and turn the spotlight of exposure upon it, so an aroused public opinion can get to work on cleaning up conditions.
“In many big cities, young people come to maturity with the attitude of contempt for the law, because almost daily they see and hear of instances wherein criminals, through alliances with conniving politicians and crooked law enforcement officers, are bigger than the law. It would be a frightful thing if the same disillusionment should spread to the small-town youngsters of America.”
In his book, the Senator, who would later nudge aside John F. Kennedy for the 1956 vice-presidential nomination, pointed an accusing finger at LaSalle. He relates the recorded testimony of the subpoenaed Cawley, who unlike witnesses before him, surprised nearly everyone on the panel by not refusing to speak on the grounds of self-incrimination. The gambler’s bold candor was publicized by the national press.
Cawley’s first appearance was in executive session on October 18th, 1950, at the U.S. Court House in Chicago, with Associated Counsel George Robinson examining. Questioning revealed Cawley’s business connections, including the racing wire service he used. The astounded officials pressed Cawley for more details, but the shrewd businessman sidestepped their questions easily. Following his return from Chicago, LaSalle city officials, embarrassed by the national publicity, publicly ordered that Kelly and Cawley’s be shut down. However, in reality, very little was done to discourage Cawley from returning to his normal operation. Even a revoked liquor license could not quell the popularity of his establishment or the amount of liquor served to his patrons.
Despite increased pressure on county and city officials to close down the now even more famous gaming house following the Senate hearings, Cawley had once again beaten the odds. Business went on, and went on well. Well, that is, until a young lawyer named Harland D. Warren was elected LaSalle County State’s Attorney in the fall of 1952.
Born into a farming family whose ancestors were among the first pioneers to settle in the county, Harland Warren grew up on a 150-acre homestead in Serena Township, 13 miles north of Ottawa. He attended local schools and majored in business and political science before graduating from law school at the University of Illinois. He maintained his interest in law and government during the four years he served in World War II on board amphibious units in the U.S. Navy Reserve.
Warren, an intensely honest man, returned home from the war to find gambling, prostitution, and liquor interests virtually controlling law enforcement agencies from one end of the county to the other. Fed up with the corruption and encouraged by many friends, the attorney won the Republican nomination for the county prosecutor’s job early in 1952. He then began a vigorous campaign, barnstorming every town to promise that he would rid the county of all vice and remain immune from any tempting monetary influences.
The electorate acknowledged their disgust with the gambling problem by electing the crusading Warren that fall. Minutes after he was sworn into office, the new state’s attorney made it clear to all city mayors and police agencies that their era of widespread corruption was over. “Gambling and prostitution cannot exist in a city if the police chief wants to do his job!” he insisted in post-election interviews.
A short time later, a stone shattered a front window at his home, an apparent warning to keep his hands off the local rackets. Unafraid, Warren began to crack down on illegal bingo games at local churches, cash-paying pinball machines, local lotteries, and even removed several of the slot machines at his own Elk’s Club—an act for which fellow members never forgave him. Warren also decided to strike boldly at the heart of the county’s most flagrant gambling center by initiating an investigation of Kelly and Cawley’s.
Using his own personal money, the new state’s attorney hired two private detectives from Chicago to assemble detailed evidence against the LaSalle business, as he felt that he couldn’t trust any of the local officials. The investigation, for which the county later reimbursed Warren, didn’t take long.
The handwriting on the wall marking the end of Cawley’s reign occurred as Warren, flanked by county deputies, personally led a raid on the “cigar store” during the afternoon of February 21st, 1953. That particular date was chosen deliberately to further aggravate his adversary Cawley, Warren later admitted, as the reasoning became apparent.
Booty from the raid included two crap tables, a roulette table, poker tables, cards, chips, a bingo barrel, and various racing paraphernalia, including scratch sheets, racing newspapers, form sheets, and cards. Without the customary warning, Cawley’s crew didn’t even have a chance to switch the new working game tables with the worn ones stored away.
Even as Warren and his deputies listed the items to be confiscated, telephones in a cashier’s cage on the second floor rang constantly. Smiling, the prosecutor answered some of the calls himself, telling Cawley’s customers that there would be no bets taken today. Utilizing a state commerce commission regulation that prohibited the use of telephones for illegal operations, Warren later contacted the phone company, who soon removed the equipment.
The raiders had no warrants for the arrest of any particular individuals, since it was not know who would be present on the property that Saturday. Instead, Warren politely requested that Cawley and the few employees in the building come to the county courthouse in Ottawa to have formal charges preferred against them there. Amazingly, the gamblers agreed without protest.
The reason for Warren’s weekend timing of the raid soon became obvious as Cawley stood before a judge to arrange bond for himself and his workers. The state’s attorney strongly insisted that only cash bonds be posted to the court in order for the accused men to obtain release. The judge agreed and declined to accept Cawley’s or anyone else’s personal check.
It was a Saturday. The banks were closed. And Monday, as Warren knew too well, was Washington’s birthday. No local bank would be open for three days.
Those present that day in the courthouse said later that it was the first time they had ever seen Tom Cawley angry. “”I’ve been in things before,” he snapped at reporters swarming the courthouse hallways, “and I’ve always been able to sign my own bond before! If Warren doesn’t think I’m worth the money, he can check my Dunn and Bradstreet rating!”
Warren was out to show every LaSalle County resident that breaking the law in his jurisdiction would no longer be tolerated and the penalty would no longer be a slap on the wrist. He had purposefully made it difficult for Cawley to come up with that much cash for bail in the hope that a few hours behind bars in the county jail would prove to the “czar” that it would never be business as usual during his term in office.
Scrambling for the cash, the visibly-shaken Cawley quickly called some Ottawa business associates. Soon that evening, after a nearby bank was quietly opened and the bonds were paid, he and his men were released.
Warren had shown Cawley that he was not bluffing about putting an end to LaSalle’s national reputation as a “wide-open town.” The cigar store owner was later fined several thousand dollars for opening a gambling house. During the short trial, Cawley’s popularity with local officials was illustrated by a high-ranking policeman who testified with a straight face that he had been in the accused’s cigar store several times and swore under oath that he had never seen any gambling take place.
Soon after his conviction, Cawley grew weary of continued investigations by county officials. Fearing that another arrest could result in a jail sentence, the smart businessman decided to take the money and run. He poured his fortune into a real estate business, where he again was successful.
The old man’s nephew, Ryan Cawley, remembering the famous club, said, “When I first started with Tom as a kid, I had no idea that what we were doing was illegal. We also thought that it would last forever…” Thomas J. Cawley died on January 18th, 1961.
Other small-time bookmakers and vice leaders in the county “saw the handwriting on the wall” and gradually closed up their open gambling establishments, with Warren’s strong encouragement. The names of popular hangouts, such as Club 359, Tinney’s Silver Congo, El Mirador, The Stables, The Rocket Inn, Denny’s Tavern, The Twin Bars, The Senate, The Empire, Little Jimmy’s Club 109, The Gay Mill, The Cotton Club, The Rose Bowl, and Kelly and Cawley’s are now only memories.
However, the fever continues. Gambling in LaSalle County is far from being just a memory. Despite more police raids on various local taverns and clubs during the late 1950s and ‘60s, which resulted in regular arrests and confiscation of enough gaming devices to fill a building, they did little to discourage local residents from gambling. Locals, many of whom had been raised on tip boards and sports parlays, continued to take a chance on various gaming options at their favorite tavern or restaurant.
The 1970s produced less spectacular raids, which were just as ineffective in eradicating the inbred gambling habits of LaSalle County citizens. However, by standards set in the Kelly and Cawley era, the games were at least restricted to far less flagrant operations.
In the 1990s, the “victimless crime” continued throughout the county in neighborhood pubs, at social functions, even at community and church bazaars. Tip boards and other gambling paraphernalia continued to be seized by county and state police authorities in sporadic raids of various area businesses. Faced with simple fines, the owners of these establishments often reopened their doors a mere few hours after being “closed down.” As the long-dead Tom Cawley noted decades before, occasional court fines were simply the cost of doing business.
An analysis of LaSalle County’s gambling history would not be complete without commenting on the Illinois State Lottery and the state’s excursion into riverboat gambling. Taking the attitude of “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em,” state legislators legalized their own form of controlled gambling with the creation of the state lottery in 1974. The rationale was that the lottery would raise millions of dollars to fund state schools and other projects without the imposition of additional taxes. In fact, many state officials refer to the lottery as a “voluntary tax.”
However, despite the state’s publicized good intentions, a moral question has been voiced constantly and consistently through the past decades: should citizens be encouraged to participate in games of chance that rob them of their basic resources with little hope of any sustainable return? Legislators who supported the state lottery’s creation claim that legalized betting takes gambling dollars out of the hands of organized crime. But those who oppose the games contend that rather than making gambling honest, lottery legalization only makes the government corrupt.
What can’t be argued is the fact that both the Illinois State Lottery and the state’s riverboat casinos are both overwhelming successes. Illinois’ Gaming Board and state lottery officials have reported that the state-controlled games have generated billions of dollars since their creation, making the lottery one of the largest revenue producers in the state.
Even now, as we prepare to enter another new year, scratch-off tickets are proudly displayed in gas stations, and gaggles of bright, beautiful slot machines beckon patrons to the darkest corners of local bars. New and modern gambling houses are popping up in downtowns across the Illinois Valley, breathing new life into the legend of Tom Cawley and the glory days of Little Reno. It seems the fever is on the rise once again.
That concludes today’s Canal Story. Thank you so much for joining us as we continue our journey through the history of the Illinois & Michigan Canal. If you’ve enjoyed this episode, pass it along to your family and friends, have a safe and happy holiday, and we’ll see you again very soon.
Notes:
Want more great stories from Steve Stout? Check out his book, Starved Rock Stories!