The Best Worst Counterfeiter in American History

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And this one comes to you from Bill Break, a friend from New Hampshire. It's a story of the best, worst counterfeiter in American history. Emmerich Jutner, also known as Edward Mueller, who lived near Broadway and West 96th Street in Manhattan, eluded the counterfeiting laws from 1938 to 1948, longer than any other maker of the queer in American history. The first 63 years of Jutner's life were upright and respectable, short, blue eyed, white haired, mustachioed and blessed with a winning, if toothless, grin. Jutner had learned the rudiments of photo engraving in his native Austria. After emigrating to America at 13, he worked as a building superintendent while tinkering with numerous unsuccessful inventions. With his children grown, the newly widowed Jutner retired in 1937 to the Upper West Side, where he lived with his mongrel terrier. He worked as a junk man, picking up discarded appliances and old tires from vacant lots with a pushcart. But he wasn't making enough to live on and soon found himself nearing destitution. So, using his ancient engraving skills, he photographed a dollar bill and recorded the images on sensitized zinc plates, which he then etched in an acid bath.

With a little retouching and a small hand press, he was ready to make more money by, well, making more money. The U.S. Secret Service, which has chased counterfeiters since 1865, protecting presidents became part of their mission only in 1901, first noticed Jutner's activity when a phony one dollar silver certificate turned up at a cigar store on Broadway near 102nd Street. Even as the agency opened a new case file numbered 8080, agents felt everything about the bill was unusual. No one in recent times had considered singles worth the trouble to counterfeit. More importantly, the bill was obviously laughably bad.

While U.S. currency was printed on 75% cotton and 25% linen stock with red and blue fibers of various lengths embedded in the paper, Jutner had used cheap bond paper from some corner store. The numbers were fuzzy. Many of the letters were misshaped or illegible. Washington's portrait was, as the Secret Service itself reported, poorly executed.

Washington's right shoulder blends with the oval background, the left eye is represented by a black spot, the right eye is almond-shaped. But the bogus singles kept turning up. Those that could be traced had been passed to the subway and elevated lines and newspaper vendors, bartenders and other small businesses that handled hundreds, if not thousands, of one dollar bills daily. Jutner carefully passed his fakes only at busy times, such as rush hour on the subway.

A five cent fare paid with a phony dollar yielded a 95 cent profit. And as the Secret Service later learned, Jutner never spent a stake in the same store twice and passed only one or two bills a day. By December 1939, File 880 contained some 600 counterfeits.

The bills grew worse with time. While touching up the plates, Jutner misspelled the president's name as W-A-H-S-I-N-G-T-O-N. Nonetheless, he kept passing bogus singles throughout World War II despite successive Treasury publicity campaigns. Apparently, many of those who found themselves holding a Jutner counterfeit kept it as a souvenir instead of turning it over to the government. By 1947, the Secret Service held over 5,000 of Jutner's phony singles. Yet, despite what New Yorker writer S. Sinclair McKellway called, a manhunt that exceeded in intensity and scope any other manhunt in the chronicles of counterfeiting.

Despite thousands of interviews and hundreds of thousands of fliers, the agency didn't have a clue to his identity. A few weeks before Christmas 1947, Jutner's apartment caught fire. New York's bravest, in extinguishing the blaze, piled the old man's junk in an alley where a sudden snowstorm buried it.

The homeless old man stayed in Queens with his daughter while his apartment was being repaired. On January 13, 1948, several neighborhood youths noticed some 30 strange-looking $1 bills lying about the alley. Unlike countless businessmen who had accepted Jutner's signals, the kids instantly realized the bills were bogus.

One of their parents took some to the West 100th Street Station House, where detectives identified them as counterfeit. The Secret Service quickly identified the tenant, whose singed furnishings had been dumped in the alley, and arrested Jutner when he returned to his apartment a few days later. Jutner had succeeded because he passed no more bogus singles than necessary for his survival, only knocking off a few bills whenever he needed food or help paying his $25 monthly rent. Blandly admitting everything, Jutner was sentenced to a year and a day and fined $1.

He was released after four months to live with his daughter and her family. After McElwey profiled him in The New Yorker, 20th Century Fox filmed Mr. 880, with Edmund Gwen, renowned as Kris Kringle in Miracle on 34th Street, in the title role. Jutner made more money from the film than he had as a counterfeiter. And great job on that, Robbie, and thanks to Bill Bryke, our friend from New Hampshire, for delivering this story. And my goodness, one dollar at a time. Not twenties, not hundreds.

Dollar at a time. This man had, if anything, great discipline. And what a great story. And we love telling, well, sort of funny stories. I mean, our whole team was laughing at this one.

It was quite amusing. Bill Bryke, thanks so much again, our friend from New Hampshire. And Emmerich Jutner's story, the best worst counterfeiter in American history, here on Our American Stories. Go to OurAmericanStories.com now and go to the donate button and help us keep the great American stories coming.

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