Lou’s View: FORGE AHEAD
By Lou Bernard
There’s something about the low-level crime from the past that interests me. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not exactly fascinated with crime in the present. Someone commits theft or vandalism now, and I’m genuinely furious. But, assuming it happened between seventy and a hundred years ago, and it makes an interesting story.
I’ve written about some neat ones. The Wrist Bag Grabber, who waited at the railroad stations to snatch purses. The Match-Light Burglar, who lit matches to see what he was stealing. Those interest me. So my attention was caught recently by a Clinton Democrat headline from January 23, 1890, that read,”Check Forger In Town.”
The whole thing happened over the course of maybe a week. A man arrived in town, described later as “A tall, slim man, thin-faced, wears a slouch hat, blue cut-away coat, black overcoat and striped woolen shirt.” So, essentially an appearance that could have described about sixty percent of the male population at the time.
He began at Bentley’s shoe store, which was at the moment attended by young Johnny Bentley, the small son of the owner. He had a check drawn from the First National Bank for eleven dollars, and he used it to buy a three-dollar pair of shoes and get eight dollars change. Then he left, and it was later discovered that the check had been forged. Having proven that he could outwit a little boy, the forger then went in search of other targets.
(As I write this, I’m getting this sneaking feeling I’ve written about this one before. It sounds strangely familiar, and I can’t tell if it’s because I’ve done this one previously, or because it’s so similar to other incidents from that era. Oh, well. I’m stuck for ideas here, and I suppose you all will enjoy this anyway. If anyone wants to be really picky about it, go ahead and check my old columns. If you can find a time when I wrote about this same incident, I’ll publicly apologize in print.)
Not long after, the forger made a reappearance armed with more fake checks, this time from the office of C.S. McCormick, a prominent local attorney. He stopped at the Raff Brothers clothing store, on Main Street. This time, he picked out seventeen dollars’ worth of clothing and tried to cash a fake check for twenty-four dollars. The check was dated for January 15, 1890, and something about it made the Raff brothers somewhat suspicious. I don’t know what; I barely passed Business Math in high school and haven’t made any progress since.
Anyway, the newspaper didn’t differentiate between the Raff Brothers, or even mention either of their first names. Apparently they were interchangeable. One of them stayed in the store while the other said he was going to run out for change. But instead of bringing back money, he ran around the corner to McCormick’s law office, to check on the authenticity of the check.
The check had been made out to a Charles Miller, likely not the forger’s real name. So, we know that his name was either Charles Miller, or it wasn’t. (Of course, that applies to literally everyone.) McCormick was legitimately surprised to hear that he was issuing checks to Charles Miller, or whom he’d never heard. He left with half the Raff Brothers to go back to the store and confront the forger.
Meanwhile, the forger had gotten nervous while waiting, and left the store. He claimed to have suddenly remembered that he needed shoes, so his stated plan was to run out and purchase a pair of shoes, and then come back for his clothing and change. Of course, he never came back. By the time Raff and McCormick returned, he was gone, and not seen again.
So that’s apparently what it takes to fight crime—A local attorney, a small business owner, and mild suspicion. Keep it in mind, citizens!
