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Blonger Day, April 22, 2004
Just one year ago today, Scott's relentless digging finally payed off when he spied that first fleck of gold, an online article on AmericanMafia.com that told us something amazing about our great-great-grandfather's brother. Lou Blonger (not Belonger, his father's name), a forgotten uncle on a lost branch of the family tree, was a man they called The Fixer, perhaps the Fixer, one of America's earliest crime bosses.
Shortly after Scott's initial discovery, he received the Virginia Armstrong account, an essay written in 1962 that recounts stories originally spun in the late Twenties by an old Joe Belonger. Astonishingly, the account makes no mention of Lou's nefarious career (his tale was probably not a big family favorite at the time), but instead speaks of saloons, gold mines and badges, Geronimo and Sitting Bull and Custer's Last Stand.
We were, Scott and I, from long lines, in all directions, of farmers, laborers, and working class folk — good, sensible people all. Regular Joes. So where the hell did these guys come from?
Genealogically, this was a windfall. And that was challenge enough. If half of this were true, why weren't these guys a part of history? Not big parts, mind you. But history is crawling with bit parts and character actors.
As it happens, the Blonger boys were often overlooked when historians came calling. Lou and Sam are not unknown in the lore of the West, but are often inexplicably absent from scholarly works that, by all rights, should have given them their due. Two examples off the top of my head:
- A book on the saloons of Denver, 1858-1916, a scholarly accounting of barrooms and their keepers, makes no mention of the boys though they had two saloons in Denver over some twenty years, the Elite being a noted night spot — not to mention numerous saloons in boomtowns all across the West.
- A book on the early marshals of Albuquerque makes no mention of Sam (or Lou), though Sam was in office while Wyatt Earp was laying low in Albuquerque after his Vendetta ride. We could only confirm Sam's tenure as marshal through the newspapers of the day.
The point being, the Blonger Bros. often go unnoted in historical sources in which it would be perfectly reasonable to find them. But the good stuff is there, down deep, in microfilm, military records, court documents. So maybe they need a little PR. That's our job.
Their story stretches from Vermont to California, from Cuba to Washington, and most points between. Four fought for the Union in the Civil War, and five were involved in mining. Sam and Simon tried politics, while Joe chose the solitary life of a prospector and scout. Sam and Lou were lawmen and detectives, as well as saloon owners and con men.
Finally, at the end of a career that would fill most men to overflowing, Lou embarked on a new enterprise that would occupy him for the last thirty-five years of his life, a massive bunco ring that operated with impunity on the streets of Denver and raked in millions.
We've learned a lot about all the Brothers Belonger: Simon, Sam, Mike, Joe, Lou, and Marvin. Well, maybe not Marvin, so much. Many mysteries remain, but each new revelation makes one wonder just how outlandish a claim would have to be to be beyond them.
In the past year, we've met new family members, both near and far, and had the pleasure of collaborating with several researchers across the country, all of whom have gone above and beyond the call of duty in their efforts to assist us. We've even said hello to descendants of some of those involved with Lou's bunco ring and subsequent trial.
For the record: the boys had three sisters too: Julia, Elizabeth and Mary. It's certainly not our intention to slight them — you can learn most of what we know about them in the genealogy department — but the brothers here hold the center stage. They're a tough act to follow.
Stay Tuned,
Craig Johnson
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