Details about Johnson's early childhood are largely unknown. Born on August 21, 1919, in Linn Grove, Iowa, he grew up in the northwestern United States within a sizable family. Johnson's journey into a troubled path began during his tenth-grade year in Cody, Wyoming, where his first brush with the law occurred. On November 23, 1935, he was arrested and convicted for larceny in Rapid City, South Dakota.
Despite being just 16 years old, the legal system granted him probation under the assumption that youth comes with a learning curve. However, this leniency was short-lived, as three months later, Johnson faced another arrest in Santa Fe, New Mexico, this time for breaking and entering. Sentenced on February 2, 1936, with a potential term of eighteen months to two years, he was surprisingly released after only 11 months.
Under the alias "Eric Vernon Jefferson," Johnson continued his delinquent activities, getting arrested for investigation of car prowling in Salt Lake City on March 2, 1937. His criminal career persisted, leading to his apprehension by Los Angeles authorities on August 16, 1938, for burglary. This incident resulted in his transfer to Rawlins, Wyoming, where the crime had taken place. Johnson, now 19, received a sentence of two to three years, and after twenty-three months, he reentered society in August 1940.
Just a month later, on September 17, 1940, a lone bandit armed with a blue steel revolver robbed a bank in Los Angeles, California. The Hollywood Branch of the Citizens National Trust and Savings Bank was conducting its routine business when the young man entered, initially approaching the first teller's cage. Directed to the second teller by the manager, he handed over a sum of small bills, claiming it was $80, and requested four $20 bills. However, as the larger bills were being handed to him, he brandished a gun and demanded, "Give me the rest." The teller relinquished $610 to the armed robber, who swiftly fled the bank.
Following the bank robbery in Los Angeles, both FBI agents and the Los Angeles Police Department promptly initiated an investigation. Remarkably, three additional bank robberies occurred in the city on the very same day.
Initial suspects were swiftly identified among known criminals in the Los Angeles area, but John Align Johnson was not among them. However, on October 28, 1940, the Los Angeles FBI Office received crucial information from the Des Moines, Iowa, FBI Office. This intel disclosed that a certain John Elgin Johnson had been apprehended by the Sioux City, Iowa, Police Department for robbing a department store in the city. Notably, among his possessions was a newspaper account detailing the Los Angeles bank robberies on September 17, 1940.
The FBI agents handling the case immediately recognized the similarity between the modus operandi in the Iowa robbery and the description of the Los Angeles bank bandit. It was swiftly established that on September 17, 1940, Johnson had acquired a 1939 Mercury Sedan, along with a new car radio and two tires, paying around $300 in cash. During this period, he was also noted for his active night-clubbing and excessive spending. Johnson's photograph was circulated among officials at the four banks targeted.
Tentative identifications linked him to two of the banks as the lone bandit responsible for the September 17, 1940, robberies. Despite having been free from law enforcement for less than three months, Johnson found himself on the brink of returning to prison life.
In an ironic turn of events, Johnson admitted to FBI agents in Des Moines, Iowa, that he had indeed committed the Los Angeles bank robberies. However, his confession extended to all four robberies that occurred on September 17, 1940. Subsequent investigation clarified his involvement in two of the incidents, revealing the criminal's attempt to claim credit for crimes he hadn't committed.
Federal justice swiftly took action against Johnson. He was transported back to Los Angeles, California, where, on November 27, 1940, a federal grand jury indicted him on two counts of bank robbery. Opting to plead guilty in United States District Court, Los Angeles, Johnson received a sentence on December 23, 1940, comprising two concurrent 15-year terms. Shortly thereafter, he began serving his third prison term at the United States Penitentiary, McNeil Island, Washington, at the age of 21.
Within the clandestine world that defined prison life, Johnson remained an outlier. Following his transfer to U.S. Prison, Leavenworth, Kansas, due to disciplinary issues stemming from a bank robbery conviction, his skewed mindset once again led him down a path of chaos. Shortly after arriving at Leavenworth, Johnson, accompanied by two fellow inmates, embarked on an escape attempt that involved assaulting prison guards. The man who had consistently displayed disdain for society was paradoxically striving to re-enter it. This audacious act led to Johnson being convicted by a Kansas jury on April 18, 1944, for assault with intent to kill a federal officer. He received a four-year sentence and was recommended for transfer to the U.S. Penitentiary at Alcatraz in San Francisco, California.
On June 10, 1944, after nearly a decade of near-continuous criminal activity, Johnson found himself on Alcatraz. Placed among America's most hardened criminals, those who resisted rehabilitation to the utmost, John Elgin Johnson became part of the enigmatic population on "The Rock."
The stringent discipline at Alcatraz likely posed a significant challenge to a mind as erratic and undisciplined as Johnson's. However, his mind sought a crack in the structure. Johnson earned a reputation as a regular attendee at church services, becoming a devoted visitor to his spiritual advisor and expressing a consistent desire for baptism into religion. Despite the advisor's sympathy, cautious against emotional conversions, Johnson's request was not granted. He initiated a correspondence course on the subject from a Midwest university, astonishingly grasping the faith's spiritual aspects. Johnson, seemingly imbued with the principles, expressed a strong desire to embrace the religious life as a lay brother, a goal that never fully materialized.
It is challenging to fathom what Johnson truly absorbed during his time at Alcatraz. In his own words, he claimed to have learned to hate. Over nine years, Johnson likely heard countless pleas of innocence from prisoners asserting they were "framed." His own mind, possibly seething with resentment against the forces that kept him confined, may have been exposed to notions of "FBI agents' cruelty," as he later asserted, "The FBI stinks—they hold guys out of windows and even sometimes let them drop!"
Johnson's education in bitterness was now complete. He harbored deep-seated animosity towards society, law enforcement, and perhaps himself. He was poised for his most significant undertaking, which would unfold in due course.
March 20, 1953 marked a significant day for Johnson, as he was granted a conditional release from Alcatraz. At the age of 34, he found himself technically free, yet the question lingered – was he truly liberated?
Upon his arrival in Los Angeles, California, on March 21, 1953, Johnson, in accordance with California law, took the mandatory step of registering as an ex-convict. Displaying a seeming commitment to rehabilitation, he reached out to the federal probation office and sought to reconnect with his former prison chaplain, now stationed in Los Angeles.
Taking a proactive approach, Johnson approached Sid Hughes, the assistant city editor of the Los Angeles Mirror, seeking assistance in obtaining a driver's license. During their interactions, Johnson shared tales of hardships at Alcatraz and revealed details about innocent men held there. Intrigued by Johnson's journey towards rehabilitation, Hughes not only secured a California driver's permit for him but also allowed him to use a Mirror-owned car while preparing for his driving test. Motivated by genuine interest, Hughes went a step further and assisted Johnson in securing a position with a heater company located in Huntington Park, a suburb of Los Angeles.
For the ensuing three months, Johnson's release appeared to validate the faith invested in him. No reports surfaced of his involvement in criminal activities. On April 22, 1953, he dutifully registered with the Huntington Park Police Department as an ex-convict, seemingly becoming part of the often-overlooked segment that forms the fundamental core of society.
On July 19, 1953, the Robbery Detail of the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Office received a report about an individual who had presented himself at a Los Angeles County supermarket, claiming to be "Watkins" from the Los Angeles Police Department Chain Store Robbery Detail. This imposter, posing as a police officer, inquired about the store's funds, their amounts, and the banking schedule, while also sharing a tip about a planned robbery. The manager, however, grew suspicious when he noticed the man arriving in a red convertible. Taking note of the California license number, the manager alerted the authorities.
Subsequent investigation by the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Office revealed that the red convertible belonged to a resident of Huntington Park, California, who had recently acquired the vehicle but had not yet obtained a driver's license. This car had been loaned to several individuals, including John Elgin Johnson, identified as the imposter claiming to be "Watkins" from the Los Angeles Police Department.
On August 4, 1953, around 5:40 p.m., Lieutenant Kenyon Kendrick of the Huntington Park Police Department responded to a call regarding a body discovered at a local residence. In the stall shower of the residence, the owner of the red convertible was found strangled with a necktie tied in a square knot. Johnson, the former companion of the victim, was nowhere to be found for questioning.
The landlord of the murder victim informed the police that he had last seen Johnson with the victim on August 1, 1953, while he was painting screens on the building. Johnson's picture was subsequently identified by the landlord as the individual seen with the victim.
Further investigation revealed that on August 2, 1953, the deceased was observed in his backyard with several men, one of whom was described as tall. The Huntington Park Police Department, at this point, considered two prime suspects in the murder, with Johnson being one of them. The other suspect was apprehended five days later but provided a solid alibi. Johnson emerged as the lone and primary suspect, although he remained unavailable for an interview, and his whereabouts were unknown.
Eventually, the Huntington Park Police Department received information that a letter addressed to Johnson had been sent to one of his former residences. The sender, Dawson, was incarcerated in the Missouri State Penitentiary in Jefferson City, Missouri, suggesting that Johnson was still associated with the criminal underworld.
On August 31, 1953, intelligence from the Jefferson City Penitentiary revealed that Dawson had received a letter postmarked in Cincinnati, Ohio, supposedly from Frank Gifford in Florida. The message mentioned receiving a letter from their mutual friend, John, and included a $50 money order for Dawson.
The FBI became involved in the hunt for John Elgin Johnson following a request from the United States Board of Parole in Washington, D.C. On August 10, 1953, a conditional release violator's warrant was issued against Johnson, citing loss of contact, association with individuals with criminal backgrounds, impersonation of a police officer, auto theft, and alleged murder. Just four months after leaving Alcatraz, Johnson seemed to have chosen a return path to the world of crime.
The Huntington Park Police Department shared the latest account of Johnson's activities with FBI agents in Los Angeles. Despite local efforts, there was no immediate success in locating him. Acting on the information about the letter received by Johnson's convict associate, Dawson, a request was swiftly forwarded to the Miami FBI Office to identify Frank Gifford at the Florida address.
The investigation revealed that Frank Gifford had never lived at the provided address. However, it was discovered that the residence belonged to a Johnson family, specifically the parents of John Elgin Johnson.
On September 22, 1953, FBI agents interviewed Johnson's father, who disclosed that Johnson had visited them just four days prior and left on September 21, 1953, mentioning he was "heading north and then back to Los Angeles." Through the vigilance of a West Coast police officer and the coordinated efforts of the FBI, they had come within a day of Johnson's movements.
Despite exhaustive interviews with the cooperative parents, no conclusive leads on Johnson's whereabouts emerged. The search persisted, but as of then, it remained fruitless.
By 4:44 p.m., Sid Hughes had not yet received any indication from Johnson regarding his exact location. However, the battle against time in Baltimore was reaching a critical point. Five minutes earlier, the FBI had discovered that Johnson was inside the Towne Theatre, a cinema situated in the heart of downtown Baltimore.
Upon this crucial information, four nearby agents swiftly proceeded to the theatre. Upon arrival, they discovered that the mezzanine, closed to the evening's patrons, could be accessed through two stairways. The agents split into two pairs, ascending cautiously up each stairway.
Among the FBI men was Special Agent J. Brady Murphy. As they reached the lobby of the mezzanine nearly simultaneously with the other two agents, they observed a solitary figure in the telephone booth—the elusive John Elgin Johnson.
Inside the booth, Johnson, ever alert to his criminal instincts, sensed the imminent threat of capture. Two shots erupted from the booth, one piercing the abdomen of J. Brady Murphy and the other tearing into the hip of Murphy's fellow agent. In response, all four agents opened fire on the phone booth. Despite being mortally wounded, Agent Murphy emptied his revolver at the desperate man behind the glass and wood partition. Fifteen shots were fired, and 15 fatal slugs tore into the booth. Johnson slumped toward the floor, his head partially held erect by the shattered glass of the door. In his final moments, he futilely attempted to lift his head.
In Los Angeles, Sid Hughes had been conversing with Johnson for nearly 50 minutes when he suddenly heard what he later described as "commotion and the sound of coins ringing in the telephone pay slot." The line abruptly went dead, and the Baltimore operator informed him, "I am sorry, sir, your party's line seems to be out of order."
At the Towne Theatre, FBI agents had to remove the door of the phone booth to extract Johnson's lifeless body. The receiver still dangled from the telephone, and a P-38 automatic slipped from Johnson's hand. Struck seven times by the agents' gunfire in the stomach, head, chest, and shoulder, he was pronounced dead upon arrival at a nearby hospital.
Simultaneously, J. Brady Murphy and the other wounded agent were rushed to a hospital. The latter eventually made a full recovery, while Murphy, just before heading to the operating table, sensed his impending demise. Inquiring about Johnson, he was informed of the criminal's death. In a testament to the profound contrast between the two men, Murphy's dying prayer was, "May God have mercy on his soul," spoken of John Elgin Johnson, the murderer.
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