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Fulton County Museum, 237 Kingsboro Avenue, Gloversville, NY (2026)

06/24/2026

Fulton County in 50 Stories: Gustav Levor

Gustav Levor was born in Germany in 1847. He immigrated to New York in July 1866, living in NYC before moving to Gloversville. The Jewish population in Gloversville began to grow beginning in the mid-19th century. The first Jewish settler in the city was Nathan Littauer. His son Lucius, the first Jewish baby born there, went on to become one of the city’s most ardent supporters, giving its citizens a hospital, public pool, and many other contributions to the community.

Levor worked as a haberdasher and opened a men’s clothing store in the Windsor building on E. Fulton and S. Main Streets. In the basement of that building, he began experimenting with tanning processes. Levor then opened his own leather business on the corner of Bleecker and Green Streets (now W. 8th Ave.) in 1877. It was a “small shop and practically no machinery,” according to Washington Frothingham in his History of Fulton and Montgomery Counties. After a year in this location, Levor moved into the building of an old business on Sand Hill and purchased their machinery. In 1884, he built his new factory on Woodside Ave. on property he purchased from John McNabb. Levor’s factory was most known for the Dongola shoe leather it produced, which was made from African antelope.

Levor & Co. was an incredibly successful business, having offices in Boston and New York City as well as Gloversville. And Levor was good to his employees. On January 2, 1892, he hosted a celebration to mark the opening of the new office built at the factory. The employees, boss masons and carpenters, and nearly 150 other invited guests were in attendance. Live music was provided by Case’s Orchestra and the affair was catered by LH Moore of the Windsor Hotel; the 7 course dinner with wine was followed by dancing until 2am. The building itself was remarkable as well: two stories with bathroom, cloakrooms, steam heaters, and lighting that cost Levor nearly $100 to install. The office was connected to the main building by a covered bridge. The Daily Leader covered the event, reporting: “Much credit is due Mr. Levor for the success he has sustained in his business and the manner in which he treats his employees. He well deserves all that he enjoys.”

Not only was Levor a leader in business, he was also a leader within the community and a family man. He married in 1882, and soon Louise and Gustav started a family. They built their family home on 23 Prospect Avenue in Gloversville. The Queen Anne style home still stands today and is in excellent condition. Gustav was involved with the foundation of the synagogue in Gloversville; the new house of worship was built on East Fulton Street where the Elm Street Park is now located – it opened in 1906 and Levor was presented with the key. From the Morning Herald: “The dedication of the temple marks a new epoch in the life of the Hebrew residents of this city and vicinity, and too much credit cannot be bestowed upon those who have given liberally of their time and means in making the er****on of the temple possible.”

Gustav helped to organize the Manufacturers and Merchants Bank, which eventually became City National Bank. He was a charter member of the Mechanic’s Hook and Ladder Company in Gloversville, started in 1877, and the Elks Club in 1892. He was a board member for the FJ&G Railroad and a stockholder and director of the Glen Phone Company. Levor was both a trustee and donor for the Nathan Littauer Hospital. Levor was also a member of the Eccentric Club.

In 1903, the first wireless message received in Gloversville was sent by Gustav on September 18th from the steamship Augusta Victoria off the coast of Sagaponak on Long Island. The message said the Levors, who had been away in Europe, would land on the morning of the 19th and be home that evening and that all were well. The message was transmitted from the ship to the wireless station by the Marconi system and forwarded to Gloversville by post.

The Levors moved to New York City in 1906. Gustav left the care of his company with his son-in-law, Samuel Rothschild. Gustav died in 1921. His wife, Louise, passed in 1954, living to age 92. Gustav’s story actually isn’t as uncommon in 19th and 20th century Gloversville, where immigrants flocked to find work in the booming leather industry, and many of them built their own incredibly successful businesses. Samuel Goldfish, a Polish immigrant, began by sweeping floors in a factory, worked his way to vice-president of sales, and then went off to Hollywood, changed his name to Samuel Goldwyn, and became an early tycoon in the film industry. Junius Meyer Schine was born in Latvia and became a theater magnate, establishing the Glove as the flagship theater in his company. Levor was another Gloversville success story, committed to the booming industry and improving the lives of the city’s citizens.

06/18/2026

Join us tomorrow for a special pop-up exhibit curated by 6th grader (and history buff!) Keaton. “Collecting Courage” is his final school project for the year and features his own personal collection of military history. Stop in between 5:30-7 to check it out!

06/17/2026

Fulton County in 50 Stories: In the Skies and on the Silver Screen: Sgt. Russell Wilmarth

There was some excitement in the City of Gloversville in early June 1944, when Roy Wilmarth received a phone call from Arloween, his daughter-in-law in Rochester. At her prompting, Roy opened the newspaper to recognize his son, Sgt. Russell Wilmarth, in the D-Day invasion photos published in the Leader-Republican. The photo showed a group of men from the 101st Airborne, 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment (PIR) at Marmion Farm at Ravenoville, Utah Beach, France, on June 8, 1944. American paratrooper James Flanagan stands in the middle, holding a captured N**i vehicle air identification sign. On the far right, leaning on his weapon, is the young Sgt. Wilmarth. It’s believed to be the first image of a Gloversville boy in invasion photos.

Russell Re*****on Wilmarth was born on June 15, 1919 in Gainesville, NY. The family moved to Gloversville by the following year, and Wilmarth would spend his childhood here and graduate from Gloversville High School in 1937. He was working at the Lake Placid Club as a storekeeper when he enlisted on March 6, 1941. Wilmarth then moved to Rochester, where he met and married his wife, Arloween “Woody” Woodward the following year.

Wilmarth was assigned to the new 502nd Battalion in the 101st Airborne, aka the Screamin’ Eagles. He was one of four Gloversville boys to be a part of the 502nd. The others included Frank Sirovica, Sidney Wilder, and J. Lohse. In October 1941, the Hippodrome played “Parachute Battalion,” an RKO Picture about “the dramatic inner struggle of a young man to overcome his overpowering fear of making his first parachute jump.” The Hipp invited the families of the Airborne boys to attend as special guests at one of the film’s showings.

The 502nd was sent to Fort Benning, GA, where the battalion took part in the grueling training program. They sailed for England on September 4, 1943 and, after some issues that left them stuck in Newfoundland for several weeks, they arrived in Liverpool on October 18th. Wilmarth was promoted to 1st Sergeant that November.

The 101st Airborne played a major role in Operation Overlord, the invasion of Normandy. For D-Day, Wilmarth was assigned to Drop Zone Able, the northernmost point. Their mission was to secure two northern causeways leading inland from Utah Beach and destroy a German coast artillery battery, consisting of 122 mm howitzers, near Ste. Martin-de-Varreville. On June 5th, as the men prepared to climb aboard their planes, Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower spoke to the troops: “full victory – nothing else.” In a photo captured of the meeting, Russell Wilmarth’s face can be seen underneath Ike’s chin. The photo is in the Library of Congress.

Those who’ve read Stephen Ambrose’s book Band of Brothers or watched the 2001 HBO mini-series of the same name may be familiar with the issues that faced the 101st Airborne as they flew from England to France on that fateful night. Though the book and show follow the path of the 506th Battalion’s Easy Company, the other battalions faced similar troubles. Between a heavy cloud bank, navigation errors, and a lack of Eureka signal (a shortwave radio navigation system used to guide the dropping of airborne forces and supplies), no one really landed where they were supposed to. Commander Lt. Col. Steve A. Chappuis was the only one to land in the correct spot and discovered that the German howitzers had already been dismantled after an air raid. The 1st Battalion was the only group to land on target and this was by sheer dumb luck.

For eight days, Wilmarth fought with the 502nd until he was injured by an exploding shell, shattering his left leg and resulting in its amputation. He spent several months in a hospital in England before being sent to the England General Hospital in Atlantic City, NJ. Apart from this injury, he was otherwise unharmed and wrote to his family not to worry, though he did admit one of the most difficult things he ever had to do was to “write to my wife that I have lost a leg.”

The 101st Airborne went on to participate in Operation Market Garden, the Battle of the Bulge, and the Liberation of Kaufering, where they liberated Kaufering IV, one of the eleven concentration camps in the complex, a subcamp of Dachau. You can learn more about Kaufering at the US Holocaust Memorial Museum website. These incidents were dramatized in the HBO series Band of Brothers.

Wilmarth eventually returned home to his wife in Rochester, where he was hired to work for the Customs Service. He would appear in the 1945 film The True Glory, a production of the US Office of War Information and the British Ministry of Information. Its purpose was to document the victory on the Western Front from Normandy to the collapse of the Third Reich. It’s tagline was: “The story of your victory… told by your guys who won it!” The film was notable for using multiple first person perspectives as narrative voices and included an American GI, a British Tommy, a Canadian, a French Resistance fighter, a Parisian civilian family, an African-American tank gunner, and several nurses and female clerical staff. The film won an Academy Award for Best Documentary Feature.

The image of Wilmarth with the group that captured the N**i flag is visible in the film, and when it opened at the Glove Theater on October 10, 1945, a relative recognized him and pointed out his photo in one of the lobby displays.

Russell and Woody had three children. He died on May 21, 1985 in Whitesboro, NY, just before his 66th birthday. Woody would live to reach 99 1/2 years old, passing away December 17, 2018. The couple is buried in Prospect Hill Cemetery in Gloversville.

06/13/2026

Tomorrow is the first of our three scheduled exhibit talks at the museum! Join Executive Director Samantha Hall-Saladino for these brief presentations that dive deeper into this year's exhibit content and development. Your $5 suggested donation goes directly to support the museum's educational programming.

06/10/2026

Fulton County in 50 Stories: The Glov-Burr Colony of the Rome State School

Note: Many of the historical records that were used in researching this piece, including newspapers, county and state records, and other materials include terminology that is now considered offensive, harmful, or problematic. Some of that language is preserved in this article because changing or removing the content would alter the historical record or one’s understanding of it. Otherwise, we seek to use inclusive and updated terminology.

Our understanding of physical and intellectual disabilities and mental illness — and the needs of and treatment for those living with any of these conditions — has come a long way, even within the past fifty years, and continues to evolve. If disabled family members weren’t hidden away at home, they were sent off to prison-like institutions (if not actual prisons, which was sometimes the case) where treatments could be inhumane and neglectful. By the latter half of the 19th century, specialized institutions focused on the care of people with disabilities began to pop up. One such place was the Rome State Custodial Asylum for Unteachable Idiots. Opened in 1894, the organization provided basic care for people with disabilities of all ages, especially “low grade” and delinquent cases. Still, people brought here were often seen as “the result of moral failure” on the part of the parents.

At the arrival of Dr. Charles Bernstein in 1904, the institution became the Rome State School. Dr. Bernstein’s progressive rehabilitation programs, backed by the Board of Managers, focused on a philosophy that recognized that people with disabilities “have a right to experiences and opportunities equivalent to those available to all other citizens.” One of these programs was the establishment of homes, or “colonies,” across the state that operated under the auspices of the school. The first was a small house rented by Dr. Bernstein near the school; at first the state objected to placing patients outside of the main building. But the doctor sent a married couple with about a dozen boys to the house, which soon became a working farm with cows and horses. The State Board didn’t support this first effort, but the farm was a success.

As more homes were established for boys, Dr. Bernstein wanted to provide the same opportunity for the girls at the school. Many of the students were sent to nearby cities to work during the day, but returned to the main building at night. Bernstein knew the benefits of the school-sponsored homes and knew the model could easily be expanded upon. However, according to Robert York, the school’s Director of Vocations, Colonies, and Parole in the 1930s, there was pushback from the communities: “They did not want girls of their own town to be contaminated by a group of girls definitely known to be feeble-minded.” Yet there was no denying that this program benefitted the students, and soon these homes acted almost as working girls’ clubs, with caretakers helping to supervise work, recreation, and health. The local physician and the school’s woman physician made regular examinations of the residents. The program found success especially in knitting towns, where girls were at work sewing baseballs.

In addition to doing away with overcrowding and waitlists at the school, there were no extra per-capita costs — the farms were largely self-supporting. Farmers were desperate for help as their children fled to the cities for more lucrative factory work. The program provided training and jobs for the students, who earned their own money, and much-needed assistance in rural communities. About 1/3 of the earnings of each student was given directly to them for clothing and other personal wants; 1/3 went into the bank to the credit of the earner; and the final portion was placed in a fund to provide things for the students that the state could not. Each colony had its own car for recreation. The program provided training and part-time schooling. At age 14, students either went home, to other institutions for placement, or colonies where they fit for working parole. There were about 1,200 people in this system by 1932.

Gloversville was home to one such colony. The first was opened in 1922 at 22 East State St., formerly the Elmwood Boarding House run by Sadie Hart. The girls were available for hire for domestic work by the day, week, or month. The Morning Herald advertised their services for all kinds of domestic work and “common” cooking. “These are girls who have been orphans or have never known a normal home,” the paper reported.

By 1933, the Gloversville program had grown and additional space was needed. The school leased the property of the late John Burr Wells at 23 East State St., which had been the Burr family home for about four decades. They also kept the original building, and the complex became known as the Glov-Burr Colony of the Rome State School. It was being run by Mr. and Mrs. Louis Brennan at the time. The “supervisors” were rarely, if ever, social workers. They were usually a married couple. That year, the supervisor position was taken over by Ward and Caroline Robinson, who came to the city from Oriskany Falls.

The couple originally took the job on a temporary basis to help them during a difficult financial time, but they ended up staying on for 21 years. In an article in the Morning Herald about their retirement in 1954, the Robinsons recounted that over the years they have helped take care of 350 girls, as many as 60 at a time (there were 22 girls living in the home in 1954). Some of them had been left by their parents, others were dependent, some had been in some minor difficulty. The Robinsons helped teach the girls household duties and ensured they went to school, but they also organized a photography club and choral group. The singers performed at various events and locations around the county over the years. But the couple was ready to retire. Mildred Sargeant was set to take over the supervisor role.

The Glov-Burr Colony of the Rome State School closed in 1970. Things were changing, social services became more wildly available, and there were more options for support. The homes were not as needed. The Gloversville house had about a dozen women there at its closure. There were still four other homes in the state at Rome, Frankfort, Hamilton, and Herkimer. The Gloversville buildings were the only ones not owned outright by the state, but leased. After the home closed, the property was purchased by local historian, author, and educator Don Williams and his family. The Rome State School closed in the fall of 1989.

More information on the history of the Rome State School, as well as the history of disability and mental health in NY, please visit https://inmatesofwillard.com/2013/05/24/rome-state-school-cemetery/

06/04/2026

Be a History Hero! The FCHS is improving collections storage and security to better serve our community and ensure the longevity of an important archival collection. You can help us purchase 2 dehumidifiers and update our 13 year old security system by simply getting a car wash! Use our link to purchase a car wash from Hoffman Car Wash and 50% will go directly to the museum for this project (now through Labor Day). Get yours here: https://hoffmanfr.washassist.com/fundraiser/campaign/FCHS

Please note that the Gloversville location does not offer the Interior Clean option.

06/03/2026

Fulton County in 50 Stories: Healey's Park

A Saturday morning in the summer of 1924 dawns warm and muggy in Fulton County, promising an uncomfortably humid day ahead. Thousands of locals employed in the glove industry are getting ready for a morning of work – yes, even on a Saturday. It’s a short shift, only half a day, and those residents are looking forward to the blow of the whistle that signals the end of a workweek. Everyone was anticipating the leisure time that was only a few hours away. Many people owned family cars, thanks to the affordability of Ford’s Model T, and folks climbed on in to take a trip to area attractions. One of the most popular destinations for weekend fun was Healey’s Park in Perth.

Thomas Healey, an Amsterdam barber, and his wife Edith opened the park in the summer of 1924. They purchased farm land in Perth along the Amsterdam-Broadalbin Road (now Route 30) - part of which had been a silver fox farm where the animals were raised for their pelts - earlier that year and went to work. In the mid-19th century, it had been the site of a sawmill, dam, and pond. According to the book Perth: Memories and Reflections, written by former Town of Perth Historian Sylvia Zierak, a pond was dug out by Edward Richards and his son Henry, along with the help of a faithful team of horses who pulled the scoops of dirt. The Richards then built a new dam. A swimming hole needs a beach, so sand was brought into create one. Healey’s didn’t have a midway or carnival rides like the Sacandaga Park, but it had boat rentals, two large water slides, swings, a high dive, picnic areas, and the Pavilion – the park’s “crown jewel” that went through various uses, most notably a dance hall that served as a venue for popular musicians of the 1920s and 30s. After the repeal of Prohibition, a bar was added to the dance hall. In the evenings, dancers moved around the floor underneath beautiful colored lights and parasols, the strains of live music drifting down to the pond below into the early hours of the morning.

Unlike other local destinations such as Sacandaga Park, Healey’s catered to automobile traffic. Even with the growing popularity of the family car, not everyone owned one. So, Thomas Healey also purchased an excursion bus that ran from Amsterdam to Gloversville and Johnstown and back. For twenty cents, you could get a lift to Healey’s Park, enjoy a day of fun and an evening of dancing, and have a ride home at the end of it all. The Park did not offer overnight accommodations and its limited parking was a problem – visitors often used neighbor’s lawns and tore up the ground with their tires – so the bus was another alternative.

Healey’s Park, apart from being a popular day-trip for individuals and families, was also the destination of many organizations. Company picnics and other group outings were often held at the park. Almost immediately after opening, groups were planning trips there. The Presbyterian Church Society of Broadalbin scheduled their annual picnic for July 18th at Healey’s. The citizens of Johnstown organized an annual outing for the city’s kiddies, and in 1924 they stopped at Healey’s on their way to Jollyland Park in Amsterdam (now called Shuttleworth Park, home of the Amsterdam Mohawks baseball team). The caravan of 101 cars, headed by Mayor William W. Chamberlain and toting a whopping 1,200 children, also included a truck carrying the Citizen’s band. The long line stopped briefly at Vail’s Mills and Healey’s Park to hear the band play a tune before heading on to their final destination.

Another crowd-drawing event at Healey’s was auto polo. The “game” was similar to regular polo, but used cars instead of horses. Invented in 1911 by Ralph Hankinson, a Ford dealer in Topeka, KS, to help sell cars, the event was popular at fairs and exhibitions through the late 1920s. A blurb in the August 15, 1924 issue of the Morning-Herald advertised an upcoming game at Healey’s Park, proclaiming it to be the “Thrill of the Age” and the “Most Exciting Game of Modern Times.” A local in the automobile business, Roy Pettingill, managed several auto polo teams at Healey’s Park and brought the event to the Fulton-Hamilton county fair in 1924. The high cost of replacing damaged vehicles, plus the risk of injury or death to players and spectators, caused the game to lose popularity by the late 20s.

Healey’s Park managed to remain open for so long through reinventing itself. The dance hall was converted to a roller skating rink to try and get in on the skating craze prior to World War II. However, the park closed in the late 1940s. The park made it through two world wars, Prohibition, and the Depression. “But postwar prosperity was what the park couldn’t endure,” claims Lost Landmarks of Upstate New York, a great website devoted to telling the stories of historic sites lost to time. The park closed after World War II, “an ironic casualty of the growing popularity of long-distance automobile travel and the weeklong vacation.” The last of the remaining buildings, the caretaker’s cottage and bath house, located right along Route 30, finally fell in 2007.

A historic marker was placed at the site in 2010 by the Perth Historical Society. Next time you’re driving down Route 30 and pass the marker, try to imagine that busy summertime oasis and the sounds of happy shouting, laughing, and jazz music.

Special thanks goes to Jerry Snyder for sharing his historic images of Healey’s Park and Peter Sefton, for his helpful information.

05/27/2026

Fulton County in 50 Stories: Jail Break of 1929

In January 1929, Raymond Clemons of Gloversville and Joseph Neparty of Schenectady were being held at the Fulton County Jail for burglary. Neparty, a 39-year-old described as 5’11” with brown eyes, black hair, and a “stubby mustache,” had just been brought to Johnstown on a bench warrant after a 12 month stint in the Montgomery County Jail for unlawful entry and chicken theft. Clemons was 27 years old, 5’7″, with a “reddish complexion, dark reddish hair, and brown eyes.” He and his brother Ernest were indicted for 3rd degree burglary: they stole 18 chickens (valued at $50) from Daniel Smith in Ephratah. (Imagining the ruckus 18 chickens must have made, its no wonder they were caught.) This wasn’t their first rodeo, as both men had priors and had served sentences at Clinton (Neparty for burglary in 1918) and Auburn (Clemons for arson in 1921).

It must have been bitterly cold on the night of January 4, 1929, when Clemons and Neparty managed to escape from the Fulton County Jail.

Their absence was discovered at 7:30 the next morning by Daniel Gould, the turnkey at the jail, when he went to arrange for the prisoners’ breakfast. The cell lock was broken and a bar on the window had been sawed away. In a stroke of genius that Ferris Bueller would be proud of, Clemons even arranged his blankets so it looked like he was still underneath them during the last round made at 11:00 the night before.

The men had been assigned to cells three and four on the first floor. It was believed that Clemons hid in an unused cell in the darkness. The Morning Herald reported: “The job was so quietly completed that despite the jail office being close by, no sound was heard.” Fellow inmates Michael Lynch and Ervin E. Hall hadn’t even heard a sound. The escapees left behind eight hacksaw blades, soap, a bunk chain, and a metal brace from one of the heating pipes – the tools of their escape act. They were believed to have acted alone (though Isabelle Clemons, Raymond’s mother, was later suspected of having been the one to smuggle the hacksaws into the jail).

At some point, Clemons was caught and returned to the jail while Neparty remained at large. It was discovered that Clemons hid out at Herbert Getman’s, who was fined $500 for his role in harboring the criminal. But Clemons wasn’t content to await his fate and again escaped on February 26th. He was recaptured within hours near the Fairview Farm. The authorities were baffled. How had Clemons managed to get out once, let alone a second time within five weeks? The locks on the cells were the same type used at state prisons like Sing-Sing and Dannemora. They used a double-lock system, with the cell and cell corridor locking at the same time with one mechanism. The police assumed that someone had slipped, that proper care wasn’t taken while securing the prisoners. The sheriff, several officials, and a committee from the Board of Supervisors gathered at the jail to examine the problem.

For his part, Clemons refused to say how he did it. He taunted them, flippantly remarking that he could get out at anytime he wanted. The police, however, didn’t believe him, making disparaging statements about the inmate’s skills. Confronted with the insults, Clemons offered a deal: “I’ll bet you a hundred dollars I can unlock that cell corridor door in an hour or an hour and a half.” Clerk Dunkel refused the wager, but added that he would gift Clemons $5 if he managed to break out while they observed. Clemons replied, “I need that five bucks. Give me them things I had this morning and I’ll take your five.”

After ten minutes of trying, no progress had been made and the onlookers began to jeer at Clemons. Annoyed, he explained that the nails they had given him were too dull. He reached into his pocket and pulled out five more pieces of equipment, most likely leaving the authorities with a little bit of egg on their faces. In five minutes, he had the door open. It’s easy to imagine the group of onlookers watching, mouths agape, amazed at the quick work Clemons made with the lock. Feeling confident now, Clemons went on: “Give me the five. For $10 more, I’ll unlock the cell door in three minutes, and for another $10 I’ll unlock that outside door and be out of here in five minutes.”

Of course, the onlookers refused this newest challenge. Clemons told them how he blocked the locking mechanism on his cell door and had “walked around this place anytime I wanted to.” Eventually, the whole process of the second escape was explained. A small piece of pipe from the sink to the sink trap wasn’t soldered on and easily snatched by Clemons to pry a bar off the window. This time, he had Ervin Hall as his partner-in-crime. The men realized they wouldn’t have enough room to fit through the space they made, so they replaced the bar and the pipe. At this point, Hall had gotten cold feet and returned to his cell – hey, at least he tried! Clemons wasn’t so easily deterred; he hid in a deep window at the end of the hallway and when Gould brought in the breakfast, he slipped out through the corridor.

The sheriff made him empty his pockets, wear overalls, and put him in a new cell. Clemons wouldn’t reveal where he kept getting his tools but he admitted he hid them in his mattress, which was routinely searched.

Clemons was sentenced to ten years of hard labor at Dannemora. The 1930 census listed him as working in the prison cotton shop. He was still listed as an inmate there on the 1940 census, but his whereabouts after his release was unknown.

Joseph Neparty remained at-large while his prison break pal languished away in state prison. In June 1939, he was arrested in Newark, NJ for a charge involving prostitution. District Attorney Bernard Kearney and Sheriff Frank Steenburgh sent warrants to Newark to extradite him after he served his sentence at Trenton. Steenburgh, who was a deputy at the time of Clemons’ and Neparty’s escape and had participated in the search, was the only one who had first-hand experience with the old case. In 1941, after finishing his sentence in Jersey, Neparty was picked up by Sheriff Eugene Smith and brought back to NY. Despite the best efforts of his attorney – who claimed Neparty simply walked out because the doors to the jail were already open – he was found guilty and sentenced to 2 – 2.5 years at Clinton Prison.

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