With echoing chants of: "Have mercy," three priests escorted brothers Tim and Pete Barrett to twin gallows erected in the downtown Minneapolis jail on March 22, 1889. Just before hoods were placed on the doomed brothers' heads, one of the priests kissed 18-year-old Pete on the cheek.
"It was a signal of such touching pity as to occasion an audible moan that swept through the crowd of spectators like a shudder," Minneapolis Journal reporter Smith B. Hall recalled 25 years later.
The Barrett brothers hanged for the murder of Thomas Tollefson, a 28-year-old Norwegian immigrant who drove the mule-powered Cedar Avenue streetcar on July 26, 1887. They fatally shot him just after midnight during a fare-box robbery that netted the brothers about $20 (worth $640 today.) A third brother at the violent scene, Henry "Reddy" Barrett, testified against his brothers and walked away scot-free.
"Oh, my God!, it is terrible to tell on my own brothers," Henry said, "to tell what will hang them, and perhaps me, too."
But roll over he did, eluding prosecution thanks to a deal struck with Hennepin County Attorney Robert Jamison.
The hangings sparked a push to reform capital punishment in Minnesota, which the Legislature banned 22 years later.
The Barretts' double hanging ended what the St. Paul Daily Globe called the "most thrilling, dramatic, diabolical and utterly incomprehensible murder case known to the criminal annals of Minnesota."
Now more than 135 years later, a retired Golden Valley financial executive named Gary Heyn has stumbled upon a troubling wrinkle in the case. Heyn, 67, recently published a nonfiction novel titled "Standing at the Grave," about his family's history from Prussia to Minnesota to North Dakota (www.tinyurl.com/HeynBook).