The Stu Kruger Story









My name is Stu Kruger, and I was at FSB for 13 months from 1957-58. I was a 'guest' in Monroe Cottage and Carlos Smith was the ruler of that cottage, along with his assistant, Bull York.

I was raised by my grandparents, never knowing my mother (she died when I was two) or my father. I lived in New York at the time. When I was 7, my grandparents were too old to care for me, so I was shipped off to live in Florida with my father and his new wife. I lived with them until I was 14 or 15, and ran away to New York several times to get away from the physical and mental abuse I was receiving at home.

The last time I ran, I was actually stopped by the police at the bus station and was sent to a juvenile facility until I was to appear in front of a judge. At the hearing my father was given a choice. To either take me back home, or let the state take charge. I was so happy when he told them to keep me, as I thought I would be better off away from him. Boy, was I ever wrong!!

I recall being placed in handcuffs, and having my shoes removed, placed in the back of a state car and driven to Marianna, about an 8 hour ride. My first night there was a nightmare, and it remained that way for the next 13 months.

After I was there for about three months, I attempted to run away..And was caught in the city about five miles away. I remember running thru the woods, and hearing the dogs they used to track people howling in the night.

I was taken directly to the white house by Mr. Hatten and his white bulldog that stood guard by the door. As all the boys have indicated, I was told to grab the rail, bite the sheet and not to scream. The first sound I heard was the strap hitting the ceiling, then the wall, then my rear. Hatten was a very tall man, and the room was very small. He hit me 37 to 40 times on my rear, lower back and legs. I had to be carried out and taken to the infirmary on the grounds, where I stayed for a day or two until I could walk.

I was 15 years old, had not committed any crime nor hurt any one, and I was beaten like a prisoner of war, by these sadistic men. About two months later I was in my bunk in the dormitory where about 50 of us slept, and the two boys on either side of me began to fight, and when it was broken up by Mr. Smith, I was taken again to the white house with the other two boys because it looked like I was part of the fight. I pleaded with them not to beat me, and the other two even admitted I was not involved, but it fell on deaf ears. Once in the white house, you don't leave until you are beaten.

I got about 25 blows that time (I guess they felt sorry, ha!) I also remember never having enough to eat....We all sat at a table for eight with one at the top, one at the bottom and three along each side. The food was served to the top seat and was passed down by each boy. When it reached the bottom, there was usually just scraps left. Requests for more was unheard of.

I witnessed grown men beating boys for no earthly reason (Bull York) and so many acts of abuse that are too numerous to get into at this point. I will add to this from time to time. Let me hear from any one who may remember me, or care to talk.