By Maureen O’Donnell
Chicago Sun Times
JOLIET, Ill. — It didn’t matter how big or bad they were. Everybody at Stateville Correctional Center respected jailhouse Capt. Estee “Sonny” Hall Jr.
The inmates respected him because he treated everyone the same, said Robert Griffin, who became an assistant warden after being mentored by Mr. Hall.
Mr. Hall, 73, died Jan. 6 from lung cancer at Silver Cross Hospital in Joliet.
He could quell a jail fight with a lightning-fast headlock. But he was more likely to use psychology to stop trouble before it happened.
“When Capt. Hall came through the hallway, everyone knew to come to attention,” said his wife, Deena.
His son remembers a walk down those hallways. Then a teen, Gregory Hall was visiting his dad when someone called out from a cell: “How you doing, Capt. Hall?”
It was Richard Speck, the killer of eight student nurses.
Mr. Hall was one of the very few skilled enough to move notorious inmate Henry Brisbon to the exercise yard -- which Brisbon always had to himself, Griffin said. Always. The so-called “I-57 killer” was sentenced to up to 3,000 years in prison for murders that included the slaying of an engaged couple told to “kiss your last kiss.”
At Stateville, Brisbon attacked officers and prisoners, killed an inmate and stabbed John Wayne Gacy, one of the most prolific serial slayers in U.S. history.
Brisbon “was a very dangerous guy. He had some eyes -- and there was nothing there,” Griffin said. “You did not turn your back on Henry.”
Yet Mr. Hall always escorted Brisbon without incident.
If a cellhouse was out of control, Mr. Hall stepped in. “He would tell [inmates] what the rules were and what his expectations were,” Griffin said.
At times, an inmate might refuse to go back to his cell, and Mr. Hall would step in. If an inmate had a TV, Mr. Hall would discuss the playoffs. They’d talk about the weather or family. Then, Mr. Hall would get to his point, Griffin said, telling the inmate: “You know you gotta lock up, don’t you?’'
Others were amazed as the inmate said OK -- and went back to his cell.
One time, Mr. Hall did a cell “shakedown” on a 300-pound gang member who liked junk food. Mr. Hall took away his unauthorized snacks, along with his stereo equipment and track suit. It didn’t matter that the inmate was widely feared, as far as Mr. Hall was concerned, only that it was against the rules.
Gang leaders exerted control by sitting in the cafeteria like potentates, surrounded by bodyguards. “My dad said he walked right through the circle and said, ‘Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m Capt. Hall,’ ” his son said.
Echoed Griffin: “They would part for him. I saw them do it many times.”
Mr. Hall also owned Estee’s Lounge in South Shore, where Muhammad Ali stopped by, his son said.
In 2003, he ran unsuccessfully for a seat on the Joliet City Council.
Mr. Hall grew up at 47th and Calumet and went to DuSable High School before joining the U.S. Army.
He loved Nat King Cole’s “Nature Boy” and saxophonist James Moody’s “Mood for Love.” Mr. Hall and his sons Gregory and Earl sang it at Gregory’s wedding.
He told his sons he didn’t care what work they did, but he wanted them to wear “a white shirt.” They each obtained advanced degrees.
Mr. Hall is also survived by his mother, Sallie Roundtree; stepchildren Petra, Torrence, Lavale, Tanisha and Desiree, and many grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Services have been held.
Copyright 2010 Chicago Sun-Times, Inc.