Male Fraud

Male Fraud

SEATTLE, Nov. 11 — Maggie Snyder, Patrick Snyder and Lester Levins were arrested this morning by a deputy marshal and two hours later were indicted by the United States Grand Jury and charged with conducting an illegal marriage bureau and fraudulently securing many thousands of dollars through the mails. Snyder conducts a mattress factory here and the other two run the bureau. The scheme was to get a man of means in communication with a woman located somewhere on the coast. After some correspondence regarding marriage the woman usually wrote she was ill and begged for money to be sent to her. Nearly all the victims have been from Western Washington.

The San Francisco Call, November 12, 1905

An article in the Huffington Post titled “How a Billion-Dollar Internet Scam is Breaking Hearts and Bank Accounts” serves as a reminder that some scams never die; they simply morph over time as technology changes. The criminals described in the article steal photos of actual people and use the photos to create fake Facebook profiles to trick lonely individuals into believing they are real people in search of a romantic relationship. Once the victim is hooked, she’s told a sob story and asked for cash — repeatedly. One woman lost two million dollars to the thieving scammers.

One hundred years before Facebook launched, Maggie Snyder and two male “colleagues” were arrested for a running a scam marriage bureau that targeted men as victims, in 1905. They advertised in Washington state newspapers, offering a “fine line” of young women, all of who claimed to be anxious to marry a lonely bachelor. At the time, women were in short supply in the state.

Fake matrimonial bureaus, such as the one run by Maggie, were similar to the current romance-for-money scam. The bureaus were fairly common in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Both men and women were the targets of such criminal operations.

In the case of Maggie’s bureau, the men exchanged letters with young ladies who supposedly lived somewhere on the west coast. Once a man was hooked, his “fiancée” asked for money to be mailed to her because she was ill or to help her pay her railroad fare — excuses varied. After the money was received the lady mysteriously disappeared. Of course the women never actually existed; Maggie and her cronies wrote the letters and collected the cash.

After receiving more than a dozen complaints from men who’d been duped and robbed, the Seattle police arrested Maggie, Patrick and Lester and charged them with mail fraud on November 12, 1905. Of the three, only 40-year-old Maggie got prison time. She was sentenced to a year at McNeil Island Federal Penitentiary on January 23, 1906. She was also charged a $100 fine and court costs. Given the primitive state of that prison in the early 20th century, Maggie’s stay, particularly since she was one of the only women convicts, would not have been a pleasant one.

Nowadays middle-aged women are often the targets of fake romance scams and many of the criminals live and operate outside the United States. The use of Facebook and other social media makes these criminals hard to trace. While the method of communication has evolved with technology, the basic human instinct to trust others, along with the need for love and companionship haven’t changed, so the scam continues in a modern form.

Featured photo: Maggie Snyder, McNeil Island Penitentiary Prisoner Identification Photographs, NARA Pacific Alaska Region.

 

Wayward Girls

Wayward Girls
Hazel Raymond_back_marked

Reverse side of criminal I.D. card of “Hazel Raymond.”

She was down on her luck when she was arrested and photographed in San Francisco, in April 1913, on a charge of grand larceny. She looks world-weary in her mugshots. And it was no wonder, given all she’d been through. Despite the listing on her identification card, her name wasn’t Hazel Raymond. She was either Grace or Zola Swenson. The Swenson girls were twin sisters from Salt Lake City.

The previous year she’d tried to commit suicide after she was arrested in her Seattle hotel room for indecent conduct. Claiming to prefer death to disgrace, she picked up a bottle of toothache medicine and swallowed all of it. Fortunately the arresting officers got her to the hospital in time and she was revived.

Her father, Otto, was born in Sweden and her mother, Charlotte, hailed from France. She was born and grew up in Salt Lake City, where her family joined the Mormon Church and her father became a missionary. She and her twin sister were the youngest of their large family and her dad, who sometimes traveled for work, was away from home for periods of time.

Their parents moved to Washington State and their older siblings got married and moved away from Utah. The twins stayed on in Salt Lake City, where one worked as a waitress and the other was employed as a clerk.

The twins decided they could earn better money as prostitutes. They worked, along with several other white women, at a place in Plum Alley, Salt Lake City’s Chinatown. It didn’t last long. After several police officers were dismissed for taking bribes to look the other way, police raided the house on March 5, 1910, and arrested the inhabitants.

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Plum Alley in Salt Lake City, circa 1907.

On March 17, 1911, the twins, using the names Hazel and Pearl Raymond, along with another woman, identified as Irene Raymond, were taken into custody after a raid on a “negro club” in Salt Lake City. Federal authorities believed the women had been brought from Wyoming and forced to work as prostitutes at the establishment. This was a violation of the 1910 Mann Act, sometimes called the White-Slave Traffic Act.

The Mann Act made it a felony to take females across state lines for immoral purposes. Though the law was supposed to combat human-trafficking and forced prostitution, primarily of white women, the act was ambiguous and led to arrests of people engaging in consensual sexual activity. By 1916 it was known as the “The Blackmail Act.”

The owner of the club was an African-American attorney and newspaper editor named Lawrence Marsh. Marsh, Utah’s first minority attorney, was not popular with the white community in Salt Lake City. He’d lobbied for and succeeded in getting an equal rights bill for minorities into the state senate. The bill would have made it illegal for businesses to refuse to serve people based on their race.

Federal authorities declared that a white man in cahoots with Marsh lured the women, who claimed they’d worked as a vaudeville team, away from their theatrical troupe, and took them to Marsh’s rooms, or maybe it was his club — reports varied. Newspaper reports claimed that Marsh pulled a gun on the women, plied them with strong drink, made them smoke opium, and invited his friends to join him in subjecting the women to unspecified “abuses” while holding them against their will.

Supposedly the women escaped out a window, with the aid of a messenger boy, after a three-day ordeal.

Initially the women played along with the story of abduction and abuse. But when it came to testifying against Marsh in court, “Hazel” refused, saying she feared she would incriminate herself. The other women followed suit.

The case fell apart, however the taint of it caused Marsh to be disbarred and his senate bill went nowhere. On April 8, 1911, the women were released from jail where they’d been held during the trial.

Hazel_Raymond_parent__039_s_letter

The day after their release The Salt Lake City Tribune published a “pathetic letter” from Mr. and Mrs. O. J. Swenson of Aberdeen, Washington. According to the letter, Hazel and Pearl Raymond were actually the Swenson’s twin daughters, Grace and Zola Swenson. They had not been brought from out-of-state to Salt Lake City but were native daughters. The letter begged the “wayward girls” to go to their parents in Washington. The girls promised to comply.

At least one of the twins headed north to Washington State. In Seattle, again using the alias, Hazel Raymond, she tried to end her life after she was arrested for indecent conduct. Next came her 1913 arrest for grand larceny.

The story has a good ending. Grace ended up in El Paso, Texas, living with a man ten years her junior named Oliver Rice. Oliver was the breadwinner — he worked as an auto mechanic. He and Grace got married in 1926. For many years Zola, who never officially married, lived with her sister and Oliver in El Paso.

When Zola died of a stroke on January 10, 1943, the name listed on her death certificate was not “Zola Swenson, but “Zola Rice.” Of course it might have been an error, but it’s just as possible that after the wayward Swenson girls settled down, they took their Mormon faith to heart and shared a husband.

Featured photo: Police identification card mugshots of “Hazel Raymond,” whose real name was either Grace or Zola Swenson. Collection of the author.