The daily sentinel., 1908-06-25
ANNIVERSARY OF FAM
Gus TRAGEDY.
(Snecial to The Sentinel

New York, June 25.-Harry Ken
dali Thaw, millionaire madman, will
todal begin the third year of his con-
finement behind prison and asylum
bars. 1t was just two years ago to-
night that the Pittsburger fired the
shot which ECHOED round the
world" sent Stanford Whites soul
into eternity and startled New York
as Il had seldom been startled before
From that night, when Thaw was
led from scene of revelry, suddenly
transformed into bloody tragedy, to
the West Thirtieth street police sta
ton, aud later to Tombs prison, he
has nor known a moment of liberty
The millions of his family and
friends. poured out Ike water in his
behalf, have not served to save him
Surrounded by gibbering, muttering
lunatics, by men whose darkened
minds are filled with insane fanciss,
widest fears and memories of bloody
crimes, he is apparently destined to
live out his life.
A big. indifferent first-night audi
ence jammed the roof of Madison
Square Garden on the evening of
June 20, 1906. 1t was the first per-
formance of a musical hodge-podge
'Mamzelle Champagne" More than
Il y
relative explained that the great
building with its tail. Diana-crowned
campanile towering above the roof
theater was of Stanford Whites de-
sign, and that the famous architect
had his studio in the tower itself
A few of the more knowing whis-
pered of rumored orgies in that same
studio, whereat Diana, and not
Venus, was the presiding deity.
The performance droned along.
People who were not especially inter
ested in 1t noticed Harry Thaw and
his wife at one of the tables. They
had been dining at restaurant and
later reports stated that Evelyn had
shown annoyance at seeing Stanford
White dining there also.
After time Thaw left his wife
and began to pace aimlessly about
the roof. He seemed to be looking
for some one. His tall figure in its
long, gray raincoat attracted atten-
ton, as he passed the outer fringe
of the audience. At last he took up
position behind a bank of palms at
the southern end of the auditorium.
The center of the roof was occu-
pied by rows of theater chairs facing
the stage. On either side of this
square of seats were tables. At the
southern end was a cleared space. AT
the southeastern corner was rather
narrow exit leading to the elevator.
Through this passage at about
$3.50 came a large, florid, middle
aged man, accompanied by some
friends. He was Stanford White He
had dined with his son and had later
gone to his club. Now he was drop
ping in to see the final act of the new
summer show. He sat down at one
end of the central tables on the
southern side of the roof, chatted
with one or two people who recog-
nized him, and at last was left alone
at the table, where he idly watched
the performance drawing to a close.
The tall man in the gray raincoat
left his retreat among the palms and
walked quickly forward to where
White sat. The architect looked up
and met Thaw's glare. But he did |
not rise or make the slightest effort |
at self-defense.
Thaw whipped out revolver and |
probably before the architect could |
guess his intent-certainly before he |
could avert 1.-THE young man fired
Three times he shot, slowly, delib-
regularly.
Every shot took effect.
White tumbled heavily from his |
chair to the tiled floor-dead.