Infiltrating The Castle - Preston Castle History

Daily News Archived Clipping

When I started investigative writing, only one thing was on my mind, revealing the truth. I think I can speak for all reporters and journalists who truly love their jobs, when I say that being a writer is a passion that drives you to do some pretty insane things at times. One good example, crime reporter Scott Thomas Anderson had put himself in harm’s way when he spent time traveling the country with various departments of law enforcement to investigate the harsh element of meth driven crime, in his book “Shadow People.”

It’s just a known fact that sometimes, in order to get the scoop or just to unravel the pieces of an intricate and enigmatic puzzle of a good mystery, a writer must immerse themselves in the element they are researching. One person that stands out as an original truth seeker, and one who may have very well been the first truth seeker at Preston Castle, was a reporter by the name of Leon Adams. 

In 1923, Adams, a reporter for the San Francisco Daily News, was assigned to investigate the Preston School of Industry undercover as a ward. His assignment was to expose the school for all the terrible things that were being done, not only to the inmates but also within the administration. In order for Adams to fit in as a real inmate, he had to be arrested and convicted in a criminal court. He was purposely “framed” for attempted burglary, to which he was brought before the court and pled guilty, requesting to be sent to Preston. 

In his series of articles exposing the Preston School of Industry’s dark secrets of mistreatment and torture, he states: “Upon seeing Preston at close quarters, one wonders that any boys go “straight” after leaving there. Terrible punishments that impair mentality and physique are administered by officers who are unable to control the youths they guard unless they make an example of every offender.” It was obvious for Adams that the element he had thrust himself into was going to be a tough one to deal with.

In his first article, he mentions the fact that he had to get into trouble there, in order to witness firsthand the brutality inflicted on the other wards. “No one at Preston knew who I was. To reach the cells, I had to “fake.” I had my choice of running away, disobeying an officer, assaulting a guard or continued defiance. My pick was the mildest-disobedience. It wasn’t hard. I picked a fight with Jack Hindsman, who always “had a chip on his shoulder.” We went to it. I soon found I had picked the wrong opponent, but didn’t mind so much. As we fought, the officer stood by and watched.

Fighting is against the rules at Preston, but it didn’t matter there, Capt. J.W. Sibole was enjoying the sight. We finally quit from the exhaustion. My face was bloody, my lips cut, and both eyes beginning to swell. Looking defiantly at Sibole, I silently dared him to enforce the rule which so often is violated at the school. He took the dare and ordered the two of us to stand the “guard line.” Boys on guard line must stand erect, facing the wall, while others rest. It is a physical punishment. 

 After a few minutes, on the line, I sat down.” As his story went on, he explained that his refusal to stand the line made Sibole angry. Adams was then sent to the detail office to receive a punishment for his insubordination. When questioned about the fight and his disobedience, Adams refused to answer, thus only getting him into more trouble. He then was sent down the hill to the cell house with his punishment awaiting him, an order to withstand 15 days in solitary confinement.

He described the original detention building being too dark and having two tiers of barred doors set in a solid wall made of stone. He states that the doors were fastened in four ways, and each cell having two gates. Windows were high above their reach, also barred. The inner gate was a solid oak lined with quarter-inch steel, while the outer gate was metal. After being ordered to strip naked and lay face down on the icy cement floor, a guard handed him a piece of canvas that he was supposed to fashion as some sort of undergarment. He then had to follow the guard up the iron ladder to cell No. 22. 

“My cell was 10 feet high and 9 feet wide. A faucet, a bowl and an iron bunk, two dirty blankets, a little wad of cloth for a pillow - that was my furniture.” He goes on to mention that the windows had heavy wire screens on them, layers of bars and opaque glass that kept the light out, leaving the inmates in total darkness, day or night. 

“My tomb, I called the place. It was the tomb of many boys before me. Scratches on the wall revealed the presence there of an assemblage of notables, names were followed by crosses....Before an hour had passed, I began to calculate how long it would be before I left my dungeon. Fifteen days, each with 24 long hours, seemed like years. What I am trying to tell about is impossible to conceive. Think, think and suffer. That's all one can do in a cell. Sleep affords no rest. Some even counted up to 13 and 14- evidently the number of days a prisoner had spent in the place. I didn’t spend the full 15 days in the cell. Watson took me out on the 11th day, when I was too sick to sit up and reach for the cup of skimmed milk that came through the little hole in the thick cell door.

For the first three days I only received one thin slice of bread, one cup half full of thin milk, shoved at me by a hand belonging to a face I never saw. On the fourth day, came a dish of cold meat, cold gravy and cold potatoes. That night I became deathly sick. I think I cried out once, but don’t remember much about that. The nights that followed weren’t quite so bad. I hadn’t enough strength to cry out much more.” Adams’ account of his eleven days in solitary ended with the guard removing him from the cell and forcing him to “stand the line” for ten hours. The first night they forced him to do such a thing, he fainted. For that, they made him stand even longer the next day. 

While Adams was in solitary confinement he found the name "Tuffy" Reid etched into the wall, following "third time over the hill." Other names were also scratched into the walls along with marks of how many days spent in solitary. Adams claimed that the name "Tuffy" kept standing out in his mind, and later he remembered where he had heard it, the media!  Tuffy was a death row inmate who made headlines in the newspaper for a murder in Los Angeles in 1923.

In his article, Adams’ makes a moving statement: “What earthly good can come to a boy in a cell? What human ever was worth a straw whose spirit was broken?” That statement rings true in so many ways. It was apparent to him that the disciplinary actions or rehabilitation that Preston was inflicting on their wards was doing more harm than good. In Adams’ article “Youths Kept in Dark Basement,” he goes on to state that the Administration building’s basement was being used to hold 50 boys in the dark. He also mentions that the basement held six solitary confinement cells where boys had been kept for weeks at a time while there was also a flogging room to beat the boys. It seemed that although Preston was content with their methods of punishing the boys, that the results weren’t really making a positive effect on anyone at all.

The statistics alone were proving that Adams’ opinions were correct. The boys who endured any time at Preston were leaving the place more corrupted than when they had arrived in the first place. In his exposé of Preston’s goings on, he revealed the following statistics from that time period: 

“Only two out of every 100 boys who were taught trades at Preston School of Industry follow those trades after being released. Ninety boys over every hundred who leave Preston are back again in some state institution within five years. Seven of the 127 prisoners in the San Francisco jail today, were at Preston at some time or another Out of every 100 criminals at San Quentin State Prison, four are “graduates” of Preston. Many of California’s most notorious crooks received their “education” at the reform school.” 

In his published articles, Adams revealed not only the harsh treatment but also the filthy living conditions, proof of the managerial incompetence of the Superintendent and also his advice on the measures that should be taken to make the necessary changes for improving the school. When Superior Court Judge Louis H. Ward had heard of Adams’ experience at Preston he felt so moved with emotion that he was quoted saying: “I’ll never feel comfortable again in my conviction that I am doing right when I commit a boy to a reform school."

Thankfully, a man in his position of authority had been reached and moved by the proof Adams had been able to expose about Preston. Unfortunately, the school seemed to be untouchable, even after all that exposure and not much changed over the years. With all that Adams went through in order to shed light and truth for the world to see, unfortunately, as many stories related to Preston, this one was long forgotten in the archives, waiting for someone like me to find it. 

Although there may have been other writers, like myself, who have written about Preston Castle and its mysteries, Adams was the one who paved the way. He was the first truth-seeker to expose Preston and call them on all the horrendous things they were doing to those boys. For that, I tip my hat to Leon Adams and his incredible journalism. "

--- from the book, "Behind The Walls: A Historical Exposé of the Preston School of Industry," By J’aime Rubio

ISBN-13: 978-1481075046 - Copyright 2012,  All rights reserved. J'aime Rubio identified as the AUTHOR of the work in accordance with U.S. Copyright Act 1976 and all U.S. Copyright laws. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission by the author/publisher.

The Escape Artist - Robert E. Byrd

Photo: courtesy of the Byrd family

"The story of former Preston ward, Robert E. Byrd started long before his stay at the Preston School of Industry. In fact, to understand why he ended up there at all, one would need to know his back story.  Robert E. Byrd was born on January 8, 1882 to parents Joseph Edgar Byrd and Helen M. Wilder. His father, Joseph, was a Confederate Veteran from New Orleans, LA, while his mother Helen had been brought up the daughter of a farmer and former Union Soldier from Forestville, New York.

As certain as the tales of Romeo and Juliet, it was also obvious that the pair were in love. They even went so far as running away together against Helen’s father’s wishes, later eloping in Covington, Kentucky. Helen’s father did not approve of her marrying a “reb,” as Joseph was from the South while Helen’s family was from the North. After marrying his love, Joseph became a traveling salesman, who represented cotton brokers, publishers and dry goods suppliers to retail stores, while Helen became a seamstress to make ends meet. They traveled a lot during their first years of marriage, going from Louisville, KY, Evansville, IN, and Nashville TN.

In 1881, due to the tiresome life of being a traveling salesman with a family, Edgar Byrd chose to become an entrepreneur by opening a tavern in Florence, AL, hoping to make roots there. Unfortunately, this choice proved more harmful that good. In late December, Edgar Byrd became entangled in a fight with the former Mayor of Florence inside of his own tavern. The fight broke out and took to the street where it ended in a shootout, leaving the former Mayor dead. Although Edgar was indicted for murder, the charges were later dismissed due to “self defense.”  After being subjected to extreme stress, Helen gave birth to Robert two weeks later. Eventually, the family sold the bar and moved their family elsewhere.

  Around 1884, while traveling for work, Robert’s father, all alone in his hotel room, died from malaria. Suddenly, Helen became the sole provider for her children which must have put a strain on her. She eventually moved back to her home county of Chautauqua County, NY. Once there, she bounced from boarding house to rented houses for many years, never being able to give her children the sense of stability she yearned for. After the death of her youngest son William, Robert seemed to have strayed down a path of delinquency. This was more than likely due to the lack of a father figure, unending hurt from the loss of his father and brother and also instability at home.

  By the time Robert was 12 years old, he had been in trouble with the law. In 1894, he was sent to the Burnham Industrial School in Eastern New York State (now the Berkshire Farm School) where wayward boys were taught to farm. He received a rigorous education there, until his release on March 1, 1896. He then when home to Fredonia, NY, only to get arrested again three weeks later. By March 26, he was sentenced to the New York Industrial School near Rochester, N.Y.  For two years he served his time in a manufacturing trade school environment not so different from Preston. By January of 1898, he was paroled into his mother’s care, moving to Buffalo, N.Y.

As the Byrd family story goes, while Robert was working as a clerk in Buffalo, he became “restless.”  He then ran away to California at the young age of 17. Apparently, due to the stories of endless opportunities out west along with the romanticized folklore of the “get rich quick” life during the gold rush, he traveled to the Golden State with dreams of making it big. News accounts of that time period even mentioned that Robert went west “on a wheel,” meaning he rode his bicycle from New York all the way to California. By the fall of that same year, Robert had made it to Gardnerville, Nevada and then onto Reno. After finding himself in trouble once again, Robert sold his bicycle and bought a train ticket to San Francisco.

How Robert E. Byrd Ended Up In Preston (Ward # 416)

       In November of 1899, Robert had made friends with a piano player, Jesse Russell. Eventually the two teamed up and decided to steal a horse and buggy rig in Oakland.  Driving the buggy to Irvington, they stopped to stay at the Irvington Hotel and skipped out on their bill. Leaving the horse and buggy behind, they left on foot onto San Jose down the railroad tracks, more than likely hitching a ride on the train as it rolled by. By the time Robert had made it to San Jose, he stole another horse, this time taking it from a livery. He had played the part of a potential buyer wanting take it for a trial ride with the full intention on purchasing it, however he never returned. He rode that horse all the way to Solano, CA.  He was then apprehended on November 16, 1899, being charged and tried for Grand Larceny in January of 1900 and sent to Preston for three years. 

Within two months of being sent to Preston, Byrd had become an ‘escape artist’, walking out of Preston undetected. He did so by making a false key and opening his way out of the building. Within three days he was captured. Once again in July he attempted to escape only to be caught again. By December, it was reported that Byrd had broken into an officer’s room and stolen his revolver, concealing it for weeks while the officer never noticed his gun was gone. I don’t know about you, but one would think that as an officer at a boy's youth reformatory, how could you not know that your gun was missing for weeks?

That information from the officer makes me think the gun was actually planted in Byrd’s room to get him into trouble. How convenient that one random day, the staff just decided to raid his belongings and discovered the gun and a pack of red pepper. The pepper, they claimed, had been concealed for him to use at a later time in an escape to throw off his scent from any dogs used to chase him. Of course, because of this Byrd was punished severely and kept from being able to write his mother.

Superintendent Hirshberg wrote several letters to Byrd’s mother, claiming to be sincere at helping him and also making sure to reiterate that he “was not” keeping Byrd from writing his mother. Eventually the Superintendent grew tired of Byrd’s shenanigans and the ward was later deemed “wholly incorrigible and rebellious, not amendable to discipline and not fit for detention.” Hirshberg then shipped Byrd off to the Court in Santa Clara where he was sent to jail there for the remainder of his sentence.

What I find interesting is that after his ordeal at Preston, Byrd was never incarcerated again. In fact, he later went on to marry and have children and filed several patents with the Government for inventions he made. Byrd went on to work for and own several manufacturing companies including Pajaro Industries and R. E. Byrd Manufacturing in Erie, PA. Robert had done so well in his business, that in the 1920's his ads were seen published in various editions of Popular Mechanics magazine. During the 1930’s and the height of the Depression, Robert's manufacturing business was doing so well that he had over 150 employees working 3 shifts, 7 days per week. 

Robert’s legacy was then passed down to his sons, grandsons and great-grandchildren, who still  continue to remain in the manufacturing industry as successful entrepreneurs to this day.  Sadly, Robert didn’t live a long life, dying at the age of 48 from congestive heart failure and kidney failure. One good thing that Robert took with him when he left Preston was a trade. Learning how to manufacture the key that he used to escape from Preston, was the catalyst that inspired him later in life to become a manufacturer.

Courtesy of Kevin LeBeaume 

Robert E. Byrd’s experience at Preston was one of infamy as far as his many escapes, but the real legacy he left behind was the value of hard work and skills he acquired at Preston that catapulted his life into one of great success for the rest of his life. "

 --- Chapter 5. From the book. "Behind The Walls: A Historical Exposé of The Preston School of Industry" by Author, J'aime Rubio (Copyright 2012 - ISBN: 13: 978-1481075046)

UPDATE: Last year in 2017, I was contacted by a gentleman by the name of Kevin LaBeaume who discovered a small bird water whistle at an old antique shop that bore Robert Byrd's name on it. As it turns out it was one of many items manufactured by Robert's company the Robert E. Byrd Manufacturing Company of Erie, Pennsylvania back in 1920. I have since been able to get Mr. LaBeaume in contact with Robert's family and I am happy to see that Robert's legacy is still being appreciated even today. 

A Sad Suicide

February 12, 1917--- Locked away in a dark, cold cell somewhere in solitary confinement, Frank Cardarella, a young man, suffering from epilepsy, allegedly ripped his sleeping shirt into pieces, fashioning a makeshift noose and began to fasten it to the pipes above his cell.  He had just suffered another episode again, one of many, and despite his obvious health conditions, the school did little to help ease his afflictions.

Yes, he had been in some trouble with the boys in his neighborhood, the Fillmore District in San Francisco, which led him down the wrong path. He wasn't like his older brother Michael, a conductor for one of the street cars in town who seemed able to stay busy and out of trouble.  He wasn't like his father Philip either, an Italian born immigrant who owned a small fruit store and seemed to be a hard working, reputable business man. No, Frankie got into trouble at the age of 14, landing him in court and facing time in a juvenile detention facility for burglary.  The first time he was sent to Preston he did a year.

By 1916, he was out and about again, but old habits die hard and he found himself hanging around the same ol' boys he had got into trouble with before. Shortly thereafter, he was picked up on charges again. Whether he was just guilty by association or he had been caught red handed, the papers don't say. What they do say is that he was convicted for burglary a second time and sent back to the red clay hills of Ione, California. Back to the infamous Preston Castle.

Because of being a repeat offender, this time the Superintendent made Frankie stay in solitary confinement at night, instead of sleeping in a dormitory.

It was the afternoon of February 12th when Frankie fell into convulsions, violently seizing on the floor. Instead of being treated in the school hospital to rest and recover, once his violent spasms stopped, the guards were instructed to carry him back to his cell and lock the door behind them. Hours later he was found dangling from a pipe above his cell.  According to several newspaper reports at the time, it was determined that Frankie Cardarella had apparently taken his own life.

What I found interesting is that the Biennial reports contradict themselves, as I have often found during my investigating of the Preston School's records in the past. One page mentions that during 1917, there were 2 deaths at the school. However, on another page of the same report, it shows a summary of deaths at the school, based on year from 1894-1918, and there is a complete blank for deaths during 1917.  In total, according to the report, only 21 boys died at Preston the first 14 years that the school was open and most of which occurred between 1895-1900 and 1911 to 1916. There is absolutely no record of a death, let alone a suicide, in the biennial report for 1917.

Why Frank Caldarella's death was not even noted in the biennial reports will remain a mystery, as will the reason for his death. Did Frank feel that life was so meaningless, that his suffering was so great that he could no longer carry on? I also wonder if he actually took his own life at all? Did Frank really commit suicide?

It is also interesting that there is no notations in the biennial reports of treating any wards with epilepsy, nor medications used during that time frame.  At that point in history, it is odd to think he was not being regularly treated in the infirmary or hospital with daily medications such as phenobarbital, which were readily available at the time to treat and supress his condition. If that is the case, and he was not being properly treated, that was a grave negligence on the part of the school.

Had he been treated properly with regular medication, his epileptic spells may been able to be controlled, and he would not have faced the possible bullying and ostracism that also may have very well occurred. It is sad to think what he must have faced day by day at Preston, around the other boys and the staff who might have made him feel like a freak.  A constant barrage of insults and belittling that could have pushed him over the edge and on the end of a rope. Still, we don't know exactly what happened to Frank. Did he commit suicide, or was it an act of bullying that went too far?

I will always wonder what really happened to Frank Caldarella that day in February, 1917.

(Copyright, 2016- J'aime Rubio. www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Sacramento Union, (2/13/1917)
Los Angeles Herald, (2/12/1917)
U.S. Census Records
Biennial Report, 1918

Preston Castle Was Compared To Spreckels Palace

Post Card- Spreckel's Mansion

Let me first say that during the writing of my book, I did the best I could with the information I had at the time. I have made a few revisions in my first publication of the book, as far as editing grammatical errors that were overlooked. In my research to provide the most accurate information pertaining to any and all history of the Preston School of Industry, I have learned that I misquoted something in my book that I wanted to make sure is fixed. So, I am taking it upon myself to clarify this very easily misunderstood information and make note on this blog that I plan to update this in future copies of the book.

What mistake was made, you may ask?

You see, in the beginning of my book I mention an 1895 article in the San Francisco Call, where writer Joaquin Miller compared the beautiful stonework of the Preston School to that of the "Spreckels Palace" in San Francisco.  Well, at the time of researching this information, the only " Palace" I could find that the Spreckels family was involved in was the Palace of the Legion of Honor. My mistake was not checking the date of construction of that building, as I would have immediately noticed it was built after Preston Castle, not before. For that I apologize.


So then, what was this "Palace" that Joaquin Miller  was talking about? Well, Miller called it Spreckels Palace but in actuality it was known as the Spreckels Chateau or Spreckels Mansion (not to be confused with the one in San Diego bearing the same name). This mansion was located on the corner of Van Ness and Clay Streets in San Francisco. It had been built in the 1880s, about a decade before Preston was built.  In retrospect, this makes more sense being that the Palace of the Legion of Honor doesn't have any similarities to Preston at all. This mansion does however show similar style and grand design as well as its use of stonework.


So what happened to the Spreckels Chateau? Unfortunately it was damaged by a fire after the great earthquake in 1906 when the army decided to create a fire break in order to curb the fire at Van Ness Street,  and was dynamited. Even after such damage the structure remained intact although the insides were gutted. Sadly, in 1927 it was finally demolished entirely and turned into apartments which still stand to this day. What an architectural tragedy.

Demolition 1927

 -- J'aime Rubio (Copyright 2015, All Rights Reserved). 

Photos: by the California State Library, California History Room
via Calisphere, California Historical Society, State Archives and historical post card.