February 2008 Archives

“The Moretti case stinks to high heaven.”
This was Pete Akers talking, an editor who kept a gun in his desk. He was incensed by what looked to be a whitewash:
On a night in 1951, Chicago Police Officer Michael Moretti, on a narcotics case, had shot and killed two suspects, one of whom was 15, supposedly in self-defense.
The Cook County state’s attorney had accepted Moretti’s version of the shooting and declined to indict.
But Akers saw a cover-up. Moretti wasn’t just any cop — he was assigned to the state’s attorney’s office, the very agency that had given him a pass.
“I want to go after this situation in a manner such as we have never gone after anything before,” Akers wrote in a memo to his staff. “The state’s attorney’s office should be blown wide open for its failure to indict Moretti.”
Reporters revisited the crime scene and interviewed witnesses. In no time, a more sinister story emerged. Moretti, it appeared, had gotten into a drunken argument with the young men in a tavern, followed them outside and shot them.
The state’s attorney’s office reopened the case. Moretti was convicted of manslaughter. He was paroled in 1964.

Tubbo was a cop.

Cops almost never get rich. When they do, you should wonder.

In 1950, Tubbo reported an income of $45,000 for the previous year, though his cop’s salary was only $9,000.

In a secret session, a Senate committee investigating the mob asked Tubbo how this could be.
“Good investments,” he said.

As we say, this was a closed-door proceeding, but an enterprising Chicago Sun-Times reporter, Ray Brennan, got hold of a transcript of Tubbo’s testimony, and on Nov. 2, 1950 he broke the story: “Exclusive! What Gilbert told Kefauver.”

Normally, this might make for nothing more than amusing reading: Cop on the take or genius stock analyst?

But Capt. Daniel “Tubbo” Gilbert was running for Cook County sheriff, and the election was in five days.
Thanks to Brennan’s scoop, Tubbo lost big — sparing the people of Cook County yet another sticky-fingered pol — and brought down almost the entire state Democratic ticket with him.

Most significantly, Tubbo’s “investments” ended the career of Democratic U.S. Sen. Scott Lucas and launched the career of Republican U.S. Sen. Everett Dirksen.

Sun-Times staff

Maybe you’ve seen the movie — “Call Northside 777.”
It’s a classic newspaper movie, starring Jimmy Stewart, based on a classic newspaper investigation — the true story of how two reporters proved the innocence of a man convicted of murder.
The innocent man was Joe Majczek, convicted of killing a cop in 1932. The reporters were James McGuire and John J. McPhaul, who in 1944 proved Majczek had been railroaded.
The newspaper they worked for was the Chicago Times — one half of what soon would be the Sun-Times — a tough tabloid that stuck up for the little guy.
How fitting it was, then, that when the very first edition of the new Chicago Sun-Times hit the streets on Feb. 2, 1948 — 60 years ago Saturday — a banner headline revealed the latest twist in the Majczek saga: “Majczek tells $5,000 ‘gift’ to Ill. legislator.”
Joe Majczek again needed a champion. And the Sun-Times, like the Times, came to his aid.
The Sun-Times had learned that a state legislator was shaking Majczek down for a $5,000 “gift,” threatening to kill a bill that would give Majczek $24,000 for his wrongful conviction.
That Sun-Times story triggered a grand jury investigation.
And Majczek got his money. Every dime.

When the Chicago Sun and Times merged for the edition of Feb. 2, 1948, a great Chicago institution was launched that would serve to inform, entertain, enrage and champion the city. The Sun-Times has been a neighbor, a watchdog, a cheerleader and a trusted companion. Throughout the month we'll be sharing some of our fondest memories from through the years and asking you to share yours with us. Check back each day for a new moment.