4A COTTAGE GROVE SENTINEL DECEMBER 6, 2017
O PINION
Offbeat Oregon History: No. 471
Stapleton Air-
fi
eld,
Denver,
For The Sentinel
Colorado — No-
vember 1, 1955.
The killer is sitting with his wife and young son at
a little airport coffee shop, chewing on his fi nger-
nails, trying to act natural.
No doubt he’s going over the numbers again
and again in his mind. According to the schedule,
United Airlines Flight 629 was supposed to arrive
at 6 p.m., and be on its way to Portland at 6:30.
That’s what the killer planned for when he slipped
a sack containing a 25-stick dynamite bomb into
his mother’s suitcase after they arrived at the ter-
minal at around 5:30 p.m. He set the timer for 90
minutes, so that it would go off 30 minutes into
the fl ight. By that time, he calculated, it would
be over some of the most rugged, mountainous
country in Wyoming. Everyone would assume the
plane had crashed into one of those mountains,
and even if they got wise, they wouldn’t be able to
get to the wreck site until the late-spring thaw —
leaving him with plenty of time to cash out his in-
heritance and collect the payouts from the various
life insurance policies he’d taken out on Mother.
It was a well-thought-out plan. But the airplane
was already 11 minutes late when it arrived from
New York. And now, sitting at that coffee shop
table waiting as the scheduled 6:30 departure time
comes and goes, the killer is meditating on how
badly awry things could go, and trying to keep his
nervous excitement secret from his family.
It turns out one of the other passengers — Pres-
ident Eisenhower’s deputy secretary of public
health, Harold Sandstead, who’s on his way to
Oregon State University to give a speech — is
running late. Sandstead’s connecting fl ight from
D.C. has been delayed, and he’s a big enough VIP
that they’re holding the fl ight for him.
So there he sits, this killer, with his family, at
that little airport coffee shop, trying to eat, oc-
casionally hurrying to the bathroom to vomit his
nerves as the clock ticks on and the doomed air-
liner waits on the tarmac: 6:48 ... 6:49 ... 6:50 ...
will the plane be delayed long enough for it to
still be on the ground at 7 o’clock? If so, will the
blast kill his mother, or will she survive ... and
fi gure out what he tried to do? Is he about to lose
... everything?
By Finn JD John
What a sigh of relief he must have breathed
when Flight 629 fi nally taxied into position and,
at 6:52 p.m., launched itself into the black Colo-
rado night sky.
The airliner was supposed to explode over the
mountains, but it never even made it out of sight
of the airfi eld. At 7:03 p.m., the air traffi c con-
trollers in the tower saw two bright lights appear
suddenly in the sky northwest of the airport, then
fall toward the ground. When they reached the
ground, the bottoms of the clouds were suddenly
lit up with another bright fl ash. It sure looked like
an explosion.
Controllers got on the air and called for welfare
checks from all the aircraft in the area. Flight 629
did not respond.
Meanwhile, telephone calls were pouring into
law enforcement agencies from witnesses who
had seen it. And some of those witnesses were
already suspicious. If the plane had exploded in
fl ight, how could it explode again when it hit the
ground?
All that night and the next day, local fi rst re-
sponders worked to recover the bodies — all 44
of them. The next day, FBI agents arrived. At the
time, identifi cation wasn’t required to get on an
airplane, so the airline didn’t know who everyone
was; with its extensive fi le of fi ngerprints, the Bu-
reau was able to help.
But the Bureau was also looking into the cause,
and quickly fi gured out what had happened. There
was explosive residue all over the remains of the
checked baggage, and the tail had been blown
clean off the plane.
They looked at the luggage that was most heav-
ily damaged in the blast; a 53-year-old business-
woman named Daisie E. King was on that list.
They checked to see which of the passengers had
air-crash insurance, purchased from vending ma-
chines in the airport; Daisie E. King was on that
list too. Then they looked into her background,
and quickly fi gured out who their number-one
suspect would be: Ms. King’s lean, squirrely
23-year-old son from a previous marriage, Jack
Gilbert Graham.
Jack Gilbert Graham was born in 1932, at the
height of the Great Depression. When, fi ve years
later, his father died, Daisie was forced by pov-
erty to lodge young Jack at an orphanage. And
although Daisie remarried in 1941, to wealthy
rancher John Earl King, she didn’t bring Jack
home from the orphanage.
Doubtless that’s because new husband King re-
fused to allow it. Whether it was because of abuse
suffered in the orphanage, or just a natural baked-
in sociopathy, Jack turned out to be the very pro-
totype of a bad seed. He dropped out of school
in the ninth grade and embarked on a career as a
small-time hoodlum. His rap sheet soon grew to
include bootlegging, gun possession, and a seri-
ous forgery case in which he stole checks from his
employer, cashed 43 of them at $100 each, bought
a convertible with the proceeds and went on the
lam.
But by 1954, he seemed to be doing better. He
was married, with two kids. Daisie, his mother,
very much hoped he was ready to settle down; and
after the death of her new husband, she found her-
self in a position to help him. So she opened a fast-
food restaurant in Denver — a broasted-chicken
joint called the Crown-A Drive-In — and set Jack
up as manager.
This did not go especially well. Worse, being
entrusted with high-value things seemed to have
inspired Jack to get into insurance fraud. Soon
there was a strange gas explosion at the new
restaurant, from which Jack collected $1,200 in
insurance money. Shortly thereafter, he turned in
an insurance claim for his new 1955 Chevrolet
pickup, which he said had stalled on the railroad
track just in time to get hit by an oncoming loco-
motive. Nobody had been able to prove anything,
but given Jack’s track record, it seemed funny.
And now he was in a fair way to collect a whole
lot more insurance money, wasn’t he?
Jack Graham, of course, denied everything
when the FBI started asking questions. But after
the Bureau searched his home and found bomb
supplies there (along with another $37,500 in in-
surance policies taken out against his mother’s
life, on which he apparently intended to forge her
signature), he confessed.
In preparation for the trial, federal authorities
found, no doubt to their astonishment, that there
was no law against blowing up an airplane. Of
course, this oversight was quickly rectifi ed; but
that didn’t help them with prosecuting Graham.
The most they could get him for was “sabotage
during peacetime,” which carried a maximum
penalty of 10 years in prison.
Luckily, though, there was a law against mur-
der — a state law, not a federal one. So the case
was thrown over to the state of Colorado — which
immediately got busy preparing to send Graham
to the gas chamber.
This appears to have been the point at which
Graham actually realized how much trouble he
was in. Before that, as the Life Magazine report-
er noted, his attitude was sullenly optimistic. “He
seems to feel he’ll be able to get out,” a jailer told
the reporter at the time.
But when the case was turned over to the state
district attorney, and the phrase “gas chamber”
started getting bandied about, suddenly Graham
was recanting his confession and exploring the
possibility of an insanity plea.
Psychiatrists evaluated him at the state hospital.
To them, he said some very odd things; whether
they were sincere, or represented him pretending
to be crazy, is unclear. “(I) realize that there were
50 or 60 people carried on a DC-6,” the FBI fi le
quotes him saying, “but the number of people to
be killed made no difference to me; it could have
been a thousand. When their time comes, there is
nothing they can do about it.”
But then he followed up that cold-blooded mor-
sel by adding that it was a great relief to tell the
doctor about it, because he had been “quite con-
science-stricken.”
Unimpressed, the doctors certifi ed him as sane.
After that, the outcome of the trial was never
really in doubt. Jack Graham was convicted on
one count of fi rst-degree murder on May 5, 1956;
and, after the usual round of appeals, he was ush-
ered into the gas chamber at the Colorado State
Penitentiary on Jan. 11, 1957. In his fi nal words,
there by the gas-chamber door, he doubled down
on what he’d told the doctors earlier.
“As far as feeling remorse for these people (the
43 other passengers), I don’t,” he said. “I can’t
help it. Everybody pays their way and takes their
chances. That’s just the way it goes.”
And that was just the way it went for Graham as
well, about 10 minutes later, at 8:08 p.m.
LETTERS TO THE EDITOR
Enjoying the dog park
C ottage G rove
S entinel
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Have you noticed your dog acting strange, distracted, or inquisi-
tive when you're strolling downtown with her on your walk? There
may well be a good reason why. You are probably in the vicinity of
Lulu's dog park, Cottage Grove's fi rst off leash area for our pets to
run. fetch and socilalize with each other. The park is located directly
behind the DIY carwash on Main St.
Lulus was privately built by Steve Nicewander, the owner of the
carwash. His vision of creating a dog park turned into reality when
the park opened around the fi rst of the year. No public tax money
was used in it's construction.
The Cottage Grove Police Department provides protection for the
park in case of an emergency. Dogs of all ages and sizes are wel-
come, but dogs displaying aggressive tendencies are encouraged to
stay home.
Nicewander has provided poop bags and trash cans at each end
of the park, and patrons must pick up their dog's waste. Rules of the
park are posted at each entrance. A very important one is that own-
ers must keep a watchful eye on their pet while visiting the park.
The park is funded by the Cottage Grove Car Wash. Nicewan-
der has installed a kiosk in the middle of the park, for any animal
related posts. There are soon to be functioning dog bone machines
located at either end of the kiosk. When this project is completed,
it will be a nice way of saying 'thanks' to Nicewander, as well as
paying forward, on a small scale, to the Cottage Grove community
effort to keep our park safe for the human and animal interactions
that are so vital to most dog owners.
The park has recently been retro-fi tted with pipes thagt will pro-
vide water for the dogs and sprinklers for the grass begining in
Springtime. Meanwhile, patrons who frequent the park are encour-
aged to bringtheir own water for their pets.
As with any dog park, there are the regulars that come frequently.
On any given day, you may be greeted by the 'welcoming commit-
tee', a pack of small, but vocal dogs who, on their own, are playfull,
loveable and quiet. When these guys band together though, they
charge the fence or gate, vocalizing their greetings for all to hear.
It's quite amusing to watch!
Lulus is a great place for all dogs; large and small, old and
young.. There have been dogs as old as 15 who have visited the
park. One female who comes to visit can be seen eating dirt instead
of retrieving the ball. Another will greet you at the gate and follow
you around, hoping for treats. One is known for her drooling jowls,
while many, many others are all about the ball. It's as if their life
revolves around it. Then there are others who fi nd contentment just
being part of the ambiance of the park. They stay with their owners,
who might be in a group socializing themselves.
The many different animal breeds that visit the Lulu's are
matched with the myrid of owners who frequent the park. There
are all walks of life: retired, students, vetrans or professional peo-
ple, artists, homeless, musicians, unemployed and disabled people.
Everyone is interested in a safe and relaxing visit. The nice thing
about dog parks is the actual diversity of it's clientelle. We are many
different people, but the bonds of commonality are strong between
us through our animals themselves.
The dog park is open from dawn to dusk, but with the cold weath-
er approaching, the park will undoubtably get much less use. We
here in Oregon know that there is winter, then there is July.... Most
of us will be home this winter, trying our hardest to think of ap-
propriate activities we can entertain our pets with, until the rainy
season is fi nally over. Last year summer fell on a Saturday... so let's
hear it for Saturday! Afterall, it's just around the corner isn't it?
Cathy Benjamin
Cottage Grove
North Douglas fi rst quarter honor roll
4.0 – 3.8:
Joanna Alcantar
Estefani Alcantar
Gerardo Alcantar
Katelyn Andes
Andy Barrone
Kyle Bowen
Tim Claiborne
Amy Dooley
Aedon Douglas
Lilly Downie
Natalie Draeger
Tim Ford
Austin Frieze
Shayla Holmberg
Levi Jentzsch
Brandon Rundell
Abby Whipple
3.79 – 3.5
Sofi a Alcantar
Cody Black
Carson Burris
Arianna Helgren
Please see HONOR ROLL PG. A11
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