By Tony Sapochetti
The Pantagraph
PONTIAC, Ill. — Thirty years ago this morning, William and Jean Thomas were making plans for Jean’s 30th high school reunion.
Bill Fairfield was getting ready to celebrate his son’s birthday.
Robert Studley was preparing for his son’s wedding.
By the end of the day, their lives were permanently changed as the result of the worst prison riot in Illinois history, which left three prison workers dead and three others injured during a melee that involved more than 1,000 inmates.
“It was just full of smoke, fire and mass confusion,” said Studley, a prison lieutenant who led the tactical team that went into the prison. “The good thing happened quite a bit later as I was walking through the administration building when a man came up and said that he wanted to thank me for coming in to get him. I didn’t recognize him at first, but it was (injured correctional officer) Danny Dill. I didn’t recognize him because the last time I saw him he was covered with blood from one end to another.”
Officials believe the one-day riot was the outcome of a gang plan sent as a statement to then-warden Thaddeus Pinkney.
The riot started mid-morning, as 600 inmates were lining up to return from the recreational yard to the north cell house. Gang members armed with shanks jumped out of line and charged guards inside the cell house.
As the day wore on, prisoners set fire to several buildings. Killed were William Thomas, 49, of Saunemin; Robert Conkle, 22, of Graymont; and Stanley Cole, 47, of Pontiac. Correctional officers Dill, Dale Walker and Sharon Pachet were injured.
Fires and fields
Bill Fairfield, now a member of the Livingston County Board, was working as a firefighter at the Pontiac Fire Department that day. His department and 10 others were dispatched to the prison, where he fought a fire set in the chapel.
“There were 200 to 300 inmates all guarded by very few guards ... and we were not really scared to be there and we didn’t think that much about it as we were busy fighting the fire,” he said. “The police and sheriff did an excellent job on the perimeter, and I don’t believe that there was every any fear of a breakout.”
The prison had been part of the town for so long that its presence was taken for granted. That changed after the riot.
“It was very somber because three of our people were killed and some were severely injured,” he said. “There was a lot of apprehension in town. It was just worrisome around here and it went on for several weeks. The prison has always been there and things eventually got back to normal, and you got to accept that the prison is there and it’s a part of the town.”
Pontiac Mayor Scott McCoy was only 7 that day. He and his family lived across the street from the prison, along the 400 block of West Lowell Street.
“The thing that I remember the most is that where the soccer fields are now there were just fields, and it looked like a Cubs game because it just seemed every law enforcement car in the nation was there,” he said.
He remembers sitting with his family and neighbors on the lawn, watching an “organized chaos” with screaming and yelling. He used a Beta max camera to make movies.
McCoy doesn’t remember everything, but does remember not feeling scared.
“We were all used to the prison ... and we didn’t feel like we were in any danger,” he said. “It used to be that inmates would break a window and yell out at us, and that was all very common. The next day was just another day for us.”
Studley’s son’s wedding was rescheduled; Conkle was to have been best man. The family sometimes leaves flowers and a beer next to his grave.
At the prison, guards usually leave flowers next to a commemorative plaque.
‘A hardworking man’
After breakfast with her husband that morning, Jean Thomas left for work as a caretaker.
“I was at work and it was probably around 11 a.m. when the hospital called me,” she said. “They wanted to know if I could come to the hospital to give them some information. I asked what for, and they just said that they had a patient they needed some information on.”
“I said, ‘No, I’m at work,’ but they insisted so I finally asked if they had some of my family there. My daughter and youngest son were in Saunemin at the time, and my oldest son lived in Pontiac, so I thought about him,” she said. “I went to the hospital and that is where they told me that my husband had passed away.”
Today, she’ll go to the cemetery to visit his grave.
“He was a hardworking man, and he did the best at whatever job he had,” she said. “My youngest son and his family were here a couple of weeks ago, and one of my grandsons looks so much like my husband, so I get little reminders every day. … That day is permanently etched into my memory and I will never forget it. I’ve lived with it for 30 years ... and this has just robbed a lot of things from family and others.”
Today
After the riot, the prison started policies that allowed only a handful of inmates to move while in line. By 1997, disciplinary segregation kept an inmate in his cell for all but a half an hour during the day. Technology improvements also helped with security, said Derek Schnapp, a spokesman for the Illinois Department of Corrections.
“Every day, we look at our safety and security as a No. 1 priority,” he said. “Whether it be the safety and security of our staff, or safety and security of our inmates, everything is looked at on a day-by-day basis.”
Pontiac’s prison remains in headlines today, but for a different reason. Gov. Rod Blagojevich recently proposed closing the prison and moving inmates to a new facility in Thomson, but the proposed state budget includes money for the prison’s continued operation in Pontiac.
The town has rallied behind the prison, showing its support through a parade and group photograph that drew more than 1,000 participants.
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9:45 a.m. A group of inmates from the north cell house set off the state’s deadliest prison riot when they jump a line of nearly 600 inmates waiting to return to their cell house from the recreation yard. The inmates storm the cell house, overwhelming guards. Three correctional officers are immediately killed and three injured. About 500 inmates join the melee after leaving the prison’s chapel, where they had been watching a movie.
10 a.m. A prison tactical team makes its way to the north cell house and starts tending to officers who have been attacked.
10:10 a.m. Correctional officer Robert Conkle, 22, of Graymont, is pronounced dead on arrival at St. James Hospital in Pontiac.
10:15 a.m. Officers from Pontiac Police Department, the Livingston County Sheriff’s Department and Illinois State Police arrive at the prison; eight rounds of tear gas are fired into the prison yard.
10:30 a.m. Inmates set fire to several prison buildings.
10:45 a.m. Police establish a perimeter around the prison.
10:50 a.m. Lt. William Thomas, 49, of Saunemin, dies in the emergency room at St. James Hospital.
12:12 p.m. Correctional officer Stanley Cole, 47, of Pontiac, is pronounced dead on arrival at St. James Hospital.
12:30 p.m. Charles Rowe, state director of corrections, arrives.
3 p.m. Most of the inmates are contained to the prison yard, surrounded by police. State troopers armed with shotguns begin working in groups of 25 to 50 to return prisoners to their cells.
5 p.m. All inmates are back in their cells.
8 p.m. All inmates are accounted for.
The Pantagraph