City of St Louis Metropolitan Police Department
City of Saint Louis Missouri
BRAVERY NEVER GETS OLD
By Kim Bell
kbell@post-dispatch.com | 314-340-8115
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
04/25/2008
Major Harry Hegger, left, from the St. Louis Police Department honors
former police officer Mel Stein, 94, along with his wife, Mavis,
at a special ceremony commemorating the 55th anniversary
of the Southwest Bank robbery that Stein helped break up.
(J.B. Forbes/P-D)
Former city police Officer Melburn F. Stein has a roomful of memorabilia and a vivid memory
about his role 55 years ago in foiling the famed Southwest Bank heist .
The lanky ex-Marine, now 94, was promoted hastily to corporal for what he did .
He received letters of thanks that year from the circuit attorney and mayor .
The hostage he saved lauded him for dropping the head bandit with "a perfect shot ."
He even played himself in Hollywood's depiction of the botched holdup,
"The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery," starring Steve McQueen .
Stein pulled off his speaking role flawlessly in a single take, even persuading the director to keep things real .
But one thing Stein never got was some sort of formal recognition or awards ceremony
from the Board of Police Commissioners or department brass .
His younger comrades tried to make up for that Thursday .
Better late than never," Stein quipped .
Sgt. John Vollmann, who collects police history and befriended Stein last year,
helped organize a ceremony at the South Patrol's afternoon roll call Thursday
to mark the 55th anniversary of the robbery attempt .
"If he did that today, he'd get highly awarded," Vollmann said .
Stein and his wife, Mavis, came to the South Patrol station on Sublette Avenue .
About 60 police officers looked on as he received commendations from a police colonel and others .
Stein then gave a pep talk to the young officers .
"In 31 years on duty, I never took a drink on duty. I never took a bribe,"
"If you want to sleep well at night, play your cards off the top of the deck . Don't take a shortcut." he said .
Lt. Dan Coll welcomed that kind of inspiration .
"We're trying to show the younger generation the bravery and tradition the older guys had ."
At 94, Stein is quick-witted and jokes how he only has "one eye, one ear and one brain left ."
"I've still got all my marbles, if that's what you mean," he says. "I can still lick my weight in wildcats ."
At roll call Thursday, Stein gave only the condensed version of the holdup,
but it's a story Stein figures he's told hundreds of times.
In an interview with a reporter, Stein's details are sharp,
as fresh as the newspaper accounts from the day it happened .
The gang of four bandits from Chicago struck about 10:10 a.m. on April 24, 1953,
at the bank at the busy corner of Kingshighway and Southwest Avenue .
Stein and his partner that day, Cpl. Robert L. Heitz, were in the Hampton Avenue District's
only cruiser that had distric twide patrol duty .
The robbers had meticulously planned the crime, casing the bank for a week and charting when police cars drove by .
They didn't count on Stein and Heitz being so close .
The partners had just pulled up to a restaurant under the Kingshighway viaduct, about a block away, when the alarm sounded .
An "attention all cars" came out for a possible holdup .
When they got to bank, the call was upgraded to "a holdup at Southwest Bank now in progress."
"That's when the hair goes up on the back of your neck," Stein says .
Heitz ran to the side door. Stein ran toward the front .
Shooting broke out, and bank employees and customers cowered inside .
Heitz shot one robber in the buttocks, before another robber shot Heitz in the neck .
Stein fired twice through the door .
A robber returned fire. Two shots "went four inches over my head," Stein says .
"And that's why I hid," Stein says .
He crouched behind a metal newspaper stand on the sidewalk outside the bank .
He knew from his days as a Marine Corps drill instructor to make himself as small as possible and take cover .
The robbery was unraveling quickly .
Dozens of police cars had arrived by this time .
Police lobbed tear gas into the building .
The driver of the getaway car fled .
A robber inside the bank, fearing a return to prison, shot and killed himself .
Gang leader Fred Bowerman, who was on the FBI's 10 Most-Wanted list, used a female customer as a shield .
He walked out the front door, holding his shotgun to the woman's back .
In the other hand, he carried the bag of loot: $140,769 .
Crouching outside to the left of the bank door, Stein steadied his gun .
When Bowerman walked into his line of sight, Stein fired once .
Bowerman - felled by Stein's bullet - died about a week later of pneumonia and a kidney wound .
It was the only time Stein ever shot someone as a policeman .
None of the bank employees or customers was seriously hurt .
The woman hostage jolted forward with such force after Bowerman was shot that she fell on the ground, breaking her wrists .
In Stein's Creve Coeur home, a spare bedroom is a shrine of sorts to Stein's exploits .
On two white shelves rest a collection of photographs and memorabilia,
including his Medal of Valor for his military service as a Marine .
A bayonet he took off the body of a Japanese soldier in Guam hangs on the wall above .
A VHS of "The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery" is on the shelf in pristine condition,
partly because Stein has only watched it once or twice, he says .
He's not a movie fan, and thinks Hollywood's take on the robbery had too many inaccuracies .
"I didn't care for it," he says .
He also didn't think too much of McQueen, who played one of the bandits and wasn't friendly on the set .
"Cold as a cucumber," Stein says .
For the record, Stein never got paid for his role in the movie .
"Not a cent," he says .
He didn't even have a choice about being in it .
His supervisor called and told him to do it .
Stein got that merit promotion, to the rank of corporal, because of his heroics at the bank,
but Stein always assumed he was overlooked for public awards because of the politics of the day .
"I was not in favor with the Board of Police Commissioners because I was a straightforward policeman,"
Stein told a reporter .
"I told them, 'I'm going to do police work according to the book.'
And I did, and I offended a lot of friends of the police commissioners.
"It's my contention I was ignored on purpose," he added. "But that's my own opinion."
Stein, whose funny quips kept the officers chuckling at roll call,
never mentioned the politics to them, just the pride he had for the badge .
His partner that day, Heitz, left the force in 1957 on disability and died in 1993 .
Stein retired from the St. Louis Police Department 35 years ago and went to work for Brinks security for nine years .
