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| Main Street Oshkosh, early 1900s. |
The operation began after the State Legislature established a committee to investigate Wisconsin’s white slave traffic. “White slavery” being a euphemism for sex trafficking. America was in the throes of moral panic over sex for hire. Nobody was more panicked than Howard Teasdale, head of the Wisconsin Vice Committee.
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| Howard Teasdale |
Teasdale was a stout and dour man with a left eye set to permanent wink. He’d been elected to the State Senate in 1911 to represent Jackson, Juneau, and Monroe counties. Farm country. He was a hardcore moralist and an enemy of city life and its trappings. His political views were framed by his disdain for liquor and unlicensed sex. A rock-ribbed Methodist and workaholic, Teasdale appeared hell-bent on proving that everyone was having more fun than he was.
As captain of the vice committee, Teasdale hired private detectives to sneak around the state and sniff out commodified pleasure. He hoped to create a lurid exposé that would send a shock through the system. And in turn, build a groundswell of support for invasive policing to prosecute the erotic pursuits that he considered sinful.
Uncovering the goods in Oshkosh was literally a walk in the park. Teasdale complained that public parks were “dangerous to public morals” because they “furnish convenient places for immoral practices.” His anxiety was inflamed by what his men stumbled on in Oshkosh.
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| Waiting for Dark in Menominee Park. |
Park & Ride
An investigator prowled Menominee Park on a warm evening in early summer. After midnight, the action became so heavy that he had to step around the “many” young couples feasting on one another in the picnic area. The romance in the meadow soured his mood. “There should be a special policeman for this park by all means,” the snoop complained to Teasdale.
South Park was just as lusty. The detective found young folks gathering there at dusk, preparing for an evening hook-up. Most were underage. The investigator claimed to have been approached by no fewer than eight young women offering him sex for a nominal fee. He saw couples making out on benches. Others were going at it on the grass. A young man he spoke to said that South Park was known as a "Lovers' Paradise." The detective confirmed that the park was “certainly on a level” with its reputation.
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| A Lovers' Paradise, South Park in the early 1900s. |
The Tunnel
Lower Main Street had been crawling with hustlers for years. But Teasdale’s detectives managed to finger just one of their hot spots: the celebrated saloon at the northwest corner of Main and Marion (now Ceape) called the Tunnel Sample Room. The Tunnel in the name was a reference to the railroad corridor next door. The photo below, from the mid-1940s, is annotated with an arrow pointing into the train tunnel and a red dot at the entrance to the old Tunnel Sample Room.
That is long gone, but in 1913, this place was a gem. William Fenrich took over the saloon in 1904 and later installed a Palm Garden, hoping to attract more women into the place. Teasdale was haunted by the very thought of a Palm Garden. He referred to them as "infernos" of sin “commonly frequented by prostitutes seeking customers. They freely mingle with inexperienced young people, and moral contamination surely follows.”
The moral contamination at the Tunnel was spreading fast on the night when Teasdale’s sleuth slipped in. He clocked a pack of hustlers working the room. At least six women “were seen there to pick up men and go off with them.” Maybe they were on their way to this next place.
Calamity Jane’s
Ella Merry was a 60-year-old widow living on the 300 block of Division Street. She couldn’t get by on the Civil War pension she inherited from her late husband, Franklin. Yet she found a way to make ends meet. Ella's little home had a set of bedrooms at the back. She sublet them to couples seeking privacy. The lease expired upon the consummation of their endeavor.
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| The yellow floor plan illustrates the layout and location of Ella Merry’s home directly behind what is now Barley & Hops Pub and Beer Garden. |
Ella was a legendary character among those in the know. They called her “Calamity Jane,” and she was proud of the service she provided. The Teasdale snoop who interviewed her seemed surprised by her candor. "She has a good trade for which she is well known," he reported with a note of grudging respect.
The Ozark Flats
This saloon and bawdy house was one of the longest-lived and most flagrant “hells” Oshkosh has ever produced. It was near the north bank of the river on what was then Light Street and is now the southernmost run of Division Street. “The Flats” began proffering liquor, gambling, and flesh in the mid-1890s. It had been gushing mayhem ever since.
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| The layout and approximate location of the Ozark Flats (#22). |
The Ozark Flats occupied the middle unit of an ugly building next to ribbons of railroad track. It was wood-framed and wrapped in sheet iron to keep it from being ignited by sparks that popped off the rails. The main attraction was the women who made the place infamous for the pleasures they peddled in the adjoining rooms.
When the vice-sniffer came around, he found the place unusually quiet. He managed to get Pearl J., the madame of the place, to spill the beans. She told him that she usually kept 14 to 16 women busy at The Flats. At the moment, though, there were just six.
Teasdale had taken a special interest in the Ozark Flats. He wanted a scandal he could use to smear Martin T. Battis, a political foe from Oshkosh. Battis had an ownership stake in the property where the rent was charged at five times the going rate. A typical predicament for a brothel.
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| M.T. Battis, in the light suit, hanging out on Main Street in the early 1930s. |
Battis was elected to the Wisconsin State Assembly in 1912 and was considered a rising political force. And he was stridently opposed to everything Teasdale was fighting for. Battis was also rumored to be behind a conspiracy to put a lid on the flesh trade in Oshkosh while Teasdale’s men were here. In the end, Battis seems to have outfoxed his rival. Teasdale failed to make hay from Battis’ connection to The Flats.
Ethel Miller’s Brothel
Teasdale’s detective headed for the Southside and Ethel Miller. The veteran sex worker was born in Illinois in 1875 or 1876. She hit the bricks as an Oshkosh streetwalker in the early 1900s. Ethel later joined Frankie Howard’s stable. Frankie had been in the underworld trenches for more than 20 years as both a street hustler and a house madame. Ethel bought Frankie’s brothel in 1909. The place operated out of a large home on 6th Avenue, just east of Nebraska Street.
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| The layout and location of Ethel Miller’s brothel on 6th Avenue. |
The detective reported that Ethel had just two women working for her. She may have deceived him. Ethel was known to house as many as six inmates, along with a middle-aged housekeeper willing to turn tricks in a pinch. In any case, Ethel told the undercover operator that, at the moment, there was no room for him at her inn. She sent him on his way, saying he could come back later if he wished. He didn’t. Good riddance.
Ella Stewart’s Sporting House
There was a warmer reception a block away on 7th Avenue. A saucy sporting house was there just around the corner from what is now Bottoms Up bar. The owner was Ella Stewart, an Illinois expat by way of Milwaukee. Ella was 54 and widowed when she moved to Oshkosh in 1909 to take the helm of a bawdy house that had been launched several years earlier by a hustler named Ollie May.
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| Ella Stewart's Sporting House was located at what is now 133 W. 7th Avenue, the current site of M.P. Kelly Plumbing. |
Ella had seven women working in her brothel. This wasn’t a come-and-go joint. Ella’s place included a parlor saloon where she sold beer and whiskey. Guests were encouraged to linger in the parlor before and after conducting their affairs. A bottle of beer cost 50 cents. The romance went for $2 a pop, or about $50 in today's money.
Teasdale assumed that his crusade would lead to the shaming and rejection of women like Ella Stewart. From his cloistered point of view, that probably made sense. But Ella Stewart was never shunned. Her family members, including her widowed father, her siblings, and their children, often visited and stayed with Ella at her brothel on 7th Avenue. Her situation allowed her to support them when they were ill or in need. Of course, none of this made its way into Teasdale’s report.
Emma Grave’s Place
Teasdale's report also had little to say about the tactics of his investigators. They had been vetted by the American Social Hygiene Association, a group dedicated to fighting venereal disease with scare tactics and moral stigma. So it’s probably safe to say that the Teasdale squad didn’t go to the extent of pressing flesh during their carousing.
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| A poster from the American Social Hygiene Association. |
At Emma Graves’ place, we see how these guys operated. The investigator told Emma he was shopping for sex and wanted to know what she offered. Emma gave him the tour. The snoop described it as “a regular parlor sporting house with three inmates and a hustling housekeeper.” At $2 a toss, Emma was charging the standard rate.
The Teasdale man said he’d be back. Emma told him to bring his co-workers, too. She probably thought nothing of the encounter. Emma Graves had seen it all by then. She had opened her brothel on 8th Avenue in 1903 when she was about 25 years old.
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| The layout and location of Emma Graves brothel, just around the corner from Houge’s Bar. |
1903 was a fine time to get into the flesh trade in Oshkosh. The city was allowing its brothels to run wide open. There was one hitch. The keepers were ticketed at least once a year for selling liquor without a license. The Daily Northwestern complained about “the city’s method of legalizing disreputable houses” to boost the city’s coffers. But most folks seemed OK with it. Emma Graves paid her fines and was left to conduct her business as she saw fit.
Pick-Up on Nebraska Street
The private investigation of Oshkosh vice turned into something more like a stroll through a public market. Half a block away from Emma Graves’ house, an investigator ran into three couples leaving a bar at 8th and Nebraska. He correctly assumed that the women were hustlers. He asked if he could get in on the action. He was denied, but told to try again later, "If he had the price." He learned that they were headed up to Jess Gokey’s place in the Town of Oshkosh. The Teasdale man followed.
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| The saloon (no longer standing) at the northwest 8th and Nebraska where the Teasdale man met three couples headed for Gokey’s. This was taken about 40 years after the encounter. |
Gokey’s Roadhouse
Jesse Gokey enjoyed a long and sleazy career as a saloon keeper and pimp. His freak flag flew at the Ozark Flats and what is now Oblio’s. But those are earlier and dirtier stories for another day. In 1913, Gokey was running a roadhouse in what was then the Town of Oshkosh. He called it the Way Side Inn. It was the last stop on the way to what is now the Winnebago Mental Health Institute. In Gokey’s day, it was called the Northern Hospital for the Insane. Gokey’s advertising advised the unwell to “Drop in on your way to the State Hospital and he will save your life.”
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| The Cheatin’ Heart Bar now resides at the former site of Gokey’s Way Side Inn. |
Gokey’s roadhouse saloon doubled as a coitus resort. Hustlers would pick up men and lead them to Gokey's for a few drinks, followed by a copulation session in one of the “neatly furnished bedrooms.” Due in no small part to Gokey, the Town of Oshkosh voted itself dry in 1911. So every bit of what was going down there in 1913 was patently illegal.
That Town of Oshkosh dry decree seemed to whet the township’s appetite for vice. By 1913, there were at least four roadhouse saloons in the Town of Oshkosh linked to the sex trade. The Teasdale snoop found his way into another of them about half a mile south of Gokey’s place.
Ella Cass’ Roadhouse Brothel
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| Ginger Snaps at 2314 Harrison Street where Ella Cass ran a brothel and roadhouse. |
Teasdale’s detective was impressed by Ella’s place. This is from his notes...
"On the first floor is a neat bar room, at the side of which there is a large wine room. In the wine room there is an electric slot piano and a nickel in the slot gambling device. Upstairs are furnished rooms let to couples for assignation purposes, price $1 to $1.50. They have no license, but found them drinking whiskey and what appeared to be brandy. A young woman was tending bar. Bought a bottle of beer, 25¢. Said they had to ask that because of the risk they took in selling it to accommodate their friends."The woman in charge was a storied Oshkosh lady of pleasure named Ella Cass. Ella was born in Iowa, but had been around Oshkosh selling carnal delights since at least 1900. She had previously operated brothels on 7th Avenue and on State Street. She even found time to establish satellite love shacks in Appleton, Neenah, and Lincoln, Nebraska. A busy lady.
Ella set up shop at the Harrison Street roadhouse in late 1912. When the Teasdale detective dropped in, she had two women turning tricks in the roadhouse’s “furnished rooms.” Ella never liked to hang around any place for too long, though. By 1916, she was done with the roadhouse on Harrison. The property was later sold to Rudolph and Olive Foelsch. Rudy died a few years later, but Olive continued the tradition, selling amour there well into the 1940s.
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| Olive Foelsch’s Harrison Bar and love nest in the 1940s. |
The Dirty Laundry
Beginning in January 1914, Teasdale held a series of hearings across the state to report his findings. It turned into a humiliation tour. In city after city, Teasdale was derided for his meddling, his methods, and his zealotry. He took his lumps in Oshkosh on June 30, 1914.
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| Oshkosh Daily Northwestern, June 30, 1914. |
The hearing began on a Tuesday morning at City Hall. Teasdale and his crew came armed with a pile of photos and revealing evidence. But his typical bluster and moralising were under wraps. He began the day praising city officials for the progress they had made in cleaning up this notoriously wicked city. He probably came to regret that.
The first set of “witnesses” included local physicians and clergymen. Most of them shared Teasdale’s view of sex as a filthy compulsion in need of regulation by people like him. They favored eugenics and enforced sterilization. Teasdale was in his element. And then Frank Stein crashed the party.
Stein had recently opened a women’s clothing store on Main Street called the Style Inn. Most of those who worked there were women. Teasdale’s narrow mind struggled with the idea that some women preferred selling sex over conventional work. He hoped a guy like Stein might have an acceptable explanation. Stein was the wrong guy to ask.
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| Frank Stein (standing near center of image) with workers from his store. |
He came out swinging: “I want you to know that I am not in accord with this investigation,” Stein began. He told Teasdale that his committee was doing more harm than good. That he didn’t like the way Teasdale “tried to make out that every girl was a prostitute." He told Teasdale that he ought to hear what people were saying about him behind his back. Teasdale got pissed and threatened to charge Stein with contempt. But Stein refused to be intimidated. The senator was struggling.
It didn’t get any better. Teasdale brought through a parade of local officials. They toyed with him. Municipal Court Judge Arthur Goss gave him a thorough gaslighting. Goss said that since the launch of the vice campaign, his court had handled more cases concerning brothels and sex workers than at any time in the past 20 years. In fact, the opposite appears to be true. Court reports indicate such prosecutions had decreased since the start of Teasdale’s investigation.
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| Judge Goss, circa 1913. |
When Police Chief Henry Dowling came up, Teasdale grilled him about sex in the parks. And how the Oshkosh pool rooms were filled with teenagers. Dowling brushed him off, saying the police were criticized for everything and given credit for nothing. Teasdale’s agitation grew. He demanded to know if Dowling was aware that young men were hanging out in the pool rooms. “I believe they are,” Dowling casually replied. Teasdales kept at him. Are you aware that it’s illegal for minors to visit pool rooms? “Yes, I suppose so,” Dowling said with total disinterest. It was the chief's way of politely telling the senator to go fuck himself.
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| Oshkosh Police Chief Henry Dowling. |
It went on like this, from the Oshosh mayor to the city attorney. Teasdale’s righteousness smothered in the bog of their indifference. He was worn out and angry by the time he got to Thomas McCool, Chairman of the Town of Oshkosh.
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| Thomas McCool, Town of Oshkosh Board Chairman. |
Teasdale lit into McCool about the rampant prostitution in the township’s roadhouses. McCool was either subnormal or adept at playing the part. He responded by saying he didn’t know what a roadhouse was. Teasdale couldn’t take any more of this. He raged at McCool, warning him that if he didn’t clean-up the township, the state would. Another threat that fell flat. Teasdale was finished. He rode the morning train out of town.
The Vice Committee's final report was submitted on December 2, 1914. Teasdale's obsession with alcohol won out. The report concluded that demon rum was the cause of it all. And Prohibition the only solution. A hard sell in a state like Wisconsin. Impossible in a city like Oshkosh. The recommendations in the report were ignored. The hustlers and brothels of Oshkosh endured.
“Certain disorderly houses are being conducted on the sly.”
– February 10, 1915, Oshkosh Daily Northwestern.
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