most dreaded places to be incarcerated. There had been allegations
of corruption at the prison, and the assistant attorney general had
told Hoover that White was ideal for the job: “I hate to give up the
chances of getting a warden that I think will be as good as Mr.
White.”
Hoover did not want White to leave the bureau. He told the
assistant attorney general that it would be a tremendous loss. Still,
Hoover said, “I feel that I would be unfair to [White] if I should
oppose his promotion. I have, as you know, the highest regard for
him, personally and officially.”
After some torment, White decided to leave the bureau. The job
offered him greater pay and meant that he would no longer need
to uproot his wife and young boys. It also offered him a chance to
preside over a prison, just as his father had, although on a far
larger scale.
On November 17, 1926, when White was still settling into the
new job, two new inmates were convoyed up the prison’s
horseshoe driveway by U.S. marshals. The inmates took in their
grim destination: Leavenworth was a 366,000-square-foot
fortress, which, as a prisoner once described, rose out of the
surrounding cornfields like a “giant mausoleum adrift in a great
sea of nothingness.” As the two inmates approached the entryway
in shackles, White walked toward them. Their faces were pale
from a lack of sunlight, but White recognized them: Hale and
Ramsey.
“Why, hello, Tom,” Hale said to White.
“Hello, Bill,” White answered.
Ramsey said to White, “Howdy.”
White shook hands with both inmates, who were then led away
to their cells.