As revealed in part one of this article, my wife and I visited Little Bohemia Lodge on Monday, April 22, 2024, the 90th anniversary of the gun battle in Manitowish Waters, Wisconsin between FBI Agents and the John Dillinger gang. During our visit, I was surprised to find the lodge unopened and deserted. Well, the truth is, I wasn’t all that surprised. I have been calling, emailing, and Facebooking the folks at Little Bohemia since last year with no response. Although it is no longer a hotel, it does have a working restaurant. Albeit a working restaurant with sporadic hours of operation. The Internet is littered with stories about the inattentiveness and standoffish attitude of lodge ownership today. Luckily for me that anniversary day, there was a cleaning crew working at the lodge. The door was wide open and, since I would rather ask forgiveness than permission, I walked in. Rhonda was mortified and chose to remain outside (not the first time, by the way). I encountered a husband/wife team cleaning the oven vents in the lodge’s kitchen. I first spoke to the woman inside, then to the man working outside. I told them that I was a reporter from Indianapolis and asked if they would mind if I took some pictures inside the building. Both agreed and soon I was waving Rhonda into the building.
The lodge was dark and empty. Not for long, though. As I cautiously walked through the disjointed restaurant, Rhonda, apparently no longer mortified, flipped on every light switch she encountered. Telltale signs of the “aloof” attitude of the restaurant were found in the form of signs littering the walls of every dining room space stating plainly “We Do Not Split Checks.” The lodge dining rooms vary in size but all are characteristically lined with cedar wood panelling. The walls are lined with antique prints, a bear skin, hunting rifles, and an array of lidded beer steins, all dimly backlit by exterior windows. On each side of the doorway leading to the bar are small 6” wide hand-carved, recessed diorama scenes in each door jam leading into the bar. They each feature vintage room interiors that look oddly like log cabin scenes but may depict rooms typical of those frequented by guests like the Dillinger gang back in the heyday. The curved bar looks very authentic, right down to the brass footrail below, and may be original to the property. The fireplaces are most certainly original and a wonder to gaze upon. There is a small alcove entryway with a half dozen vintage framed front-page newspaper accounts of the shootout near a locked cabinet containing a precious few relics salvaged from the event. This is surprising since it is well known that in the weeks, months, and years following the incident, owner Emil Wanatka saw the Dillinger saga as a means to make money during the Great Depression.
An August 10, 1936, an FBI document survives that details Wanatka’s behavior after the shootout. Written to Director J. Edgar Hoover, it details a visit to the Lodge by two FBI agents. “It was found that the personal belongings of John Dillinger, such as his old clothing, etc., were maintained in a small cottage adjacent to Little Bohemia Lodge.” (No doubt the cabin where Baby Face Nelson briefly resided) “On one of the end walls, were tacked, covering the complete end of the room, the shirts, and shoes which formerly belonged to Dillinger and other members of that mob.” The adjacent wall was covered by an assortment of photos of Al Capone, the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, and the Lake Superior bootleggers known as the “Purple Gang,” a mob of criminals composed predominantly of Jewish gangsters. Also on display were the “suitcases that once carried the clothes” of the Dillinger gang and various newspaper accounts of the event. Other walls were festooned with “neckties and pajamas, all of which allegedly belonged to the gang” and a “glass case in which is maintained a Colt .45 automatic revolver, bearing serial #160461, which Wanatka states, he purchased from John Voss but is exhibited as having been left by the mob. There was also contained in this cabinet a .351 caliber rifle (likely a 1907 Winchester), about a half dozen colored sunglasses, a number of medical supplies, razors, toilet articles, etc; boxes of playing cards and numerous boxes and dishes containing exploded shells allegedly picked up on the grounds of Little Bohemia following the raid. Inside a closet door is a portion of a bullet-proof vest. The complete vest is not there, the sides being missing.”
Also on display was a photo of Wanatka and Dillinger posed in front of the Lodge. Wanatka signed and sold these photos to unsuspecting tourists. Wanatka also claimed the revolver and bullet-ridden vest were the property of slain FBI Agent, Carter Baum. When Wanatka was confronted by the FBI agents about these items, he confessed that he had concocted the story, and admitted that his photo with Dillinger was a fake. He had superimposed Dillinger’s photo, making it one of the earliest Photoshop fakes in American history. When the FBI revealed that they had Baum’s vest and handgun in their possession, Wanatka agreed to cease his phony advertising campaign. However, Wanatka’s museum did contain many inconsequential but authentic castoff items left behind by the bandits after their escape. Today, the only thing left on display is a battered brown leather bag, similar to a doctor’s valise, with an original hand-lettered folksy placard (likely created by Emil Wanatka himself) reading: “This is the suitcase that the Dillinger gang carried the money in.” Above the door is what looks like a modern B&W hand-lettered replica sign reading “Little Bohemia Dine, Dance, & Swim. Steak, Duck, & Chicken Dinner.”
These are the details that drive my life. What happened to all that “stuff”? Most likely it was sold off piece by piece by the Wanatka family (Emil lived until 1975, his widow until 1991, and his son died in 2009) or was purloined by guests, employees, or visitors in the ensuing decades. Nearby are signed photos from Johnny Depp and other stars of the Michael Mann film Public Enemies, filmed there in the summer of 2008. It should be noted that, while entertaining, the film is historically inaccurate since Baby Face Nelson and Homer Van Meter are portrayed as being killed near Little Bohemia when in reality, both outlaws were gunned down months later. Unsurprisingly, Baby Face died in yet another shootout that led to the deaths of two more FBI agents.
What remains at Little Bohemia are the battle scars of that gunfight. The walls of the main dining room are peppered with bullet holes of varying size and scope. These holes rest at eye level near two of the guest tables in the direction of the FBI agent’s return fire. There are large caliber razor-sharp holes made by Thompson Sub Machine Guns, smaller caliber holes from sidearms, and the buckshot of shotguns. Some of the holes are large enough to poke a finger through. These bear the marks of thousands of fingers poking through them over the years. Across the room, the exit holes are made visible by the light from the adjacent dining room shining through them, cascading the floor, walls, and ceiling with sunshine. Thoughtfully, many of the windows have been preserved in place with bulletholes intact. These spiderweb remainders are doubly protected by panes of glass as witnesses to just how deadly that battle was. They are everywhere and from all directions.
We remained inside the lodge for half an hour making sure we saw every square inch of the building. The rooms above where the outlaws stayed (and from which they defended) were closed up tighter than a drum. According to info found on the net, those rooms were drastically altered by the Hollywood film crew to look as they might have the day after the shootout. Baby Face Nelson’s cabin, the former site of Emil Wanatka’s Dillinger museum, no longer stands. The front of the Lodge has been altered some over the years but basically remains the same as it was in 1934. A sculpted inlaid stone Irish Sláinte, woven into the native stone above the original entrance and topped with a pair of shamrocks, proclaims “Caed Mille Gailthe” (Gaelic for “a hundred thousand welcomes”). It certainly looks original. The back of the lodge remains unchanged and contains the original windows from which the outlaws escaped. Looking at them now, it is easy to imagine how easy it was for the bandits to flee. The windows empty out onto the rooftop, revealing how easy it would have been to slide down the shingles to make the short 6-8 foot jump to the ground. The lakeside is a scant distance away and offers a perfect getaway route into the woods on either side of the lodge.
Circling back to the northwest side of the lodge, bullet holes are visible in three panels of pickets on the second-floor balcony (above the kitchen). Although very authentic looking, these are NOT from the 1934 battle, but rather from the making of the film Public Enemies. Nonetheless, they remain a popular selfie-station backdrop for interested visitors and require no special permission to observe. The rusted hulk of a vintage 1930s roadster rests out front of the lodge to set the atmosphere. The Little Bohemia Lodge is well-marked from the road and includes directional signs from many eras. As we walked the grounds snapping pictures, our working-class friend sauntered over to ask, “What is so special about this place? What happened here?” When I revealed the history of the place, he seemed shocked to learn what had taken place there. Even more shocked to learn that it was the 90th anniversary of the Dillinger escape. Proving once again, that history surrounds us everywhere. Our only challenge: go and find it.
Al Hunter is the author of the “Haunted Indianapolis” and co-author of the “Haunted Irvington” and “Indiana National Road” book series. His newest books are “Bumps in the Night. Stories from the Weekly View,” “Irvington Haunts. The Tour Guide,” and “The Mystery of the H.H. Holmes Collection.” Contact Al directly at Huntvault@aol.com or become a friend on Facebook.
