The Infamous Life of William Schmulbach

Early Life and Personal Background

William Thompson “Billy” Schmulbach was born in 1874 in Kentucky, the son of John and Sarah Schmulbach. He grew up in a large and complicated family, with five full siblings and thirteen half-siblings. While little is known about his early years, records indicate that by 1880, his family had moved to Beaucoup, Perry, Illinois, where they likely engaged in farming or other local trades.

By the early 1900s, Schmulbach had settled in Joplin, Missouri, a city rapidly expanding due to the lead and zinc mining boom. He married Ida Mitchell on April 13, 1903, and by all appearances, was establishing a stable life. However, his name would soon become infamous in Joplin due to his involvement in violent altercations and criminal activity.

Schmulbach was physically imposing, as described in his 1917 draft card, which listed him as having a stout build, medium height, and blue eyes. Throughout his life, he maintained a reputation as a tough and aggressive individual, which would later serve him both in law enforcement and criminal encounters.

By 1923, Joplin city directories listed William and Ida Schmulbach living at 826 Grand Avenue, with William working as a night watchman. This job marked his first step into law enforcement, but it also positioned him in a world where he would be as feared as he was respected.

The Joplin Shootout and Murder Trial 

Schmulbach’s first brush with major criminal notoriety came on November 15, 1909, in Joplin, Missouri. That night, Patrolmen William Smith and Timothy Graney were escorting Schmulbach’s wife, Jessie, and her employee, Maude Martin, to the police station. The two women had been arrested for running a house of ill repute, a charge that was common in Joplin’s red-light district at the time.

As the officers walked their prisoners down Eighth and Main Streets, Schmulbach confronted them. An exchange of words quickly escalated into gunfire, and within moments, Patrolman William Smith lay dead, while Officer Graney was wounded in the knee. Witnesses at the scene later described how Schmulbach fired multiple shots before fleeing the scene.

For the next two years, Schmulbach evaded capture, first hiding locally and then traveling through Oklahoma, New Mexico, and California. Authorities eventually tracked him to Seattle, Washington, where he was arrested on September 1, 1911. Extradited back to Missouri, he faced a dramatic murder trial, where the prosecution sought the death penalty.

During his trial, Schmulbach’s attorney, George R. Clay, argued self-defense, claiming that Officer Smith had approached Schmulbach with a gun drawn. Initially, the jury did not believe this claim, and Schmulbach was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to 30 years in prison. However, Clay successfully appealed to the Missouri Supreme Court, which granted Schmulbach a new trial.

On January 26, 1913, after 15 hours of jury deliberation, Schmulbach was acquitted. The jury found reasonable doubt in the testimony, particularly regarding whether Smith had drawn his gun first. Though he was now a free man, the violent nature of his actions had already set a precedent for his future.

Rather than stepping away from violence, Schmulbach soon found himself involved in even more deadly encounters.

Life in Picher, Oklahoma: Lawman or Outlaw?

After his acquittal in Missouri, Schmulbach relocated to Picher, Oklahoma, a booming mining town known for its lawlessness and frequent gun violence. Here, Schmulbach reinvented himself as a merchant policeman, a role that was effectively a privately hired enforcer for local businesses. However, his methods of policing were often just as brutal and controversial as his criminal past.

In his early years in Picher, Schmulbach established himself as a feared and respected figure. He frequently carried a large revolver, patrolled the streets without hesitation to use force, and became involved in multiple high-profile violent incidents.

One of the first major accusations against him in Picher came on February 1, 1921, when he was charged with accepting bribes related to bootlegging operations. The Prohibition Era had led to an explosion of illegal alcohol sales, and Schmulbach, like many other law enforcement officials, was suspected of turning a blind eye in exchange for money. He posted $1,000 bail, but the charges did not seem to damage his standing in the town.

His violent encounters soon escalated. On June 10, 1926, Schmulbach shot and killed two men, Lee Flournoy and Charles Mayes, who were suspects in a Kansas bank robbery. However, in the process, he accidentally shot the chief of police from Picher. Despite the collateral damage, Schmulbach faced no charges for the deaths of Flournoy and Mayes, solidifying his reputation as a ruthless enforcer.

Only months later, on December 14, 1926, he shot Roy Epperson in the leg while investigating a bandit trio. However, Epperson was not involved in any crime. He survived the incident, but Schmulbach once again faced no serious legal consequences.

His most controversial killing in Picher before his murder conviction came on November 15, 1927, when he shot and killed Hugh Harreld in a Picher alley. Harreld, carrying a large sum of money, was suspected of wrongdoing, but it was later revealed he was outside the home of a relative. Despite shooting Harreld in the back four times, Judge Davidson dismissed the charges, ruling it as self-defense.

As these violent incidents accumulated, Schmulbach seemed unstoppable, a lawman who operated above the law. However, in 1930, his violent past would finally catch up with him.

The Murder of Frank Carlock and the Fall of Schmulbach

By the late 1920s, William Schmulbach had built a reputation in Picher, Oklahoma, as a man who dealt with crime on his own terms. Despite multiple violent encounters and allegations of corruption, he continued his role as a merchant policeman, carrying out justice with his revolver rather than through legal means. However, his actions finally caught up with him on October 5, 1930, when he committed a murder that could not be brushed aside as self-defense or justified police work.

On that day, Schmulbach shot and killed Frank Carlock, a well-known Picher druggist, in what appeared to be a dispute over money. Carlock, who owned Carlock Drug Store at 201 Main Street, reportedly owed Schmulbach $1,000. That morning, as Carlock was stepping out of his car with a .22 rifle, Schmulbach fired four shots, striking Carlock three times in the back. Witnesses reported that Carlock had not threatened Schmulbach and was attempting to retreat when the shots rang out.

Unlike his previous violent encounters, which were often excused or overlooked, this brazen killing in broad daylight drew immediate legal consequences. A jury in Ottawa County, Oklahoma, found Schmulbach guilty of murder, and he was sentenced to life in prison. This marked a turning point in his life—after years of skirting the law and operating in the shadows of both crime and enforcement, he was finally held accountable.

Other Criminal Incidents and Controversies

Even before the Carlock murder, Schmulbach had a long list of violent and criminal accusations against him. His methods as a lawman were brutal, often leading to injuries and lawsuits.

One such case occurred on July 11, 1928, when Schmulbach was charged with assaulting E.R. Todd. According to reports, he struck Todd over the head with a revolver, an act consistent with his reputation for violent enforcement. As with many of his past offenses, he posted a $1,000 bond, and though legal proceedings were set for July 23, no record indicates he faced serious punishment.

Another legal issue surfaced on June 30, 1930, when he was charged with federal liquor protection violations. The exact details of this case remain unclear, but it aligned with previous allegations of bribery and corruption. Throughout the 1920s, Schmulbach was suspected of accepting payoffs related to illegal alcohol sales during Prohibition, further blurring the line between law enforcer and criminal.

Schmulbach’s unchecked use of force had made him an enigma in law enforcement circles. He was both trusted by some businesses and feared by civilians who knew that crossing him could mean severe consequences. However, the Carlock murder was the final act that led to his downfall, stripping him of his role in law enforcement and placing him behind bars.

Life in Prison and Final Years

After his 1930 murder conviction, Schmulbach was sent to the Oklahoma State Penitentiary to serve his life sentence. For most criminals, this would have been the end of their story, but in true Schmulbach fashion, he found a way back to freedom.

In 1936, after serving just six years, Schmulbach was pardoned and released from prison. The exact circumstances of his pardon remain unclear, but it was not unusual for politically connected individuals or former lawmen to receive clemency, especially during an era where justice was often influenced by local power dynamics.

Following his release, Schmulbach returned to Picher and took a job as a guard for the Eagle-Picher Company, a major employer in the region’s mining industry. Despite his past, he was able to reintegrate into society—although his reputation as a violent figure likely lingered. By this point, his years of gunfighting and legal battles had taken a toll, and he lived out his final decade in relative obscurity.

On his death in 1946, Schmulbach’s obituary listed him as a former merchant policeman and guard, but made little mention of the violent history that had defined much of his life. His widow, a sister (Anna Hoagland of Kansas City), and a half-brother (Clay Brown, a Joplin detective) survived him. Funeral arrangements were handled by Durnil Funeral Home, and with his burial, a chapter of the lawless past of the Midwest was closed.

Legacy and Historical Significance

William Schmulbach’s story is one of contradictions—a man who enforced the law while frequently breaking it, a gunfighter who escaped conviction more than once, and a lawman who operated more like a vigilante. His life provides a unique lens into law enforcement in the rough-and-tumble Midwest, where justice was often determined not by courtrooms, but by the quick draw of a revolver.

His acquittal in Missouri and later conviction in Oklahoma illustrate how the legal system struggled to deal with men like him, who occupied a gray area between public service and criminality. In Picher, where mining wealth created a lawless atmosphere, men like Schmulbach thrived by operating outside traditional rules. His career reflects the brutality of early 20th-century frontier justice, where violence was often tolerated if it served local interests.

Even today, Schmulbach’s name remains a subject of intrigue. His story has been pieced together from newspaper archives, court records, and local accounts, painting a picture of a man who left an indelible mark on the communities he lived in.