Wayne County Wanderings: Honoring the Memory of Special Officer George Knapp

It was close to 10 a.m. on the morning of Thursday, May 3, 1923 when two Wayne County lawmen carefully approached the old homestead.

Special Officer George Knapp and County Detective John Curran had been tasked with investigating the report of an illegal moonshining operation in the woods about four miles outside of Equinunk.

Rumor had it that two desperate characters, Wesley Decker and Alonzo Hornbeck, were running a still that supplied gin to numerous “speakeasies” in northern Wayne. It was the height of Prohibition and police departments were cracking down on moonshining all across Pennsylvania.

This particular property was well-known to authorities because it had once been owned by the infamous Debb “Ma” Simpson, a backwoods madam who ran a brothel out of the old farmhouse.

Several traveling peddlers had mysteriously disappeared after spending the night in the company of Ma Simpson’s girls. But, no one could ever prove they’d been killed and their bodies were never found.

Decker and Hornbeck had purchased about 60 acres from Simpson when they arrived in Equinunk from New Jersey in 1920. At the time, they told neighbors they were just simple farmers looking for a quiet place to start a new life. However, it wasn’t long before word got out as to what they were actually up to.

And so, Knapp and Curran were on high alert as they set out from Honesdale that fateful spring morning. They’d parked their car about a mile off Crooked Creek Road and then began the strenuous hike up an ancient trail folks today still call the “Road to Wallerville.”

Both were armed with a revolver and each was prepared to use it. After all, Decker had been telling everyone within earshot that if any lawmen came looking for him he’d never be taken alive.

Sadly, what Knapp and Curran couldn’t have known was that Decker had been monitoring them all along. He’d heard the sputtering four cylinder vehicle coming, then watched as the two men slowly made their way up the partially washed-out road.

For one, this would be the final journey of his life. For the other, it would be a day that haunted him ever after.

More Wayne County Wanderings:Local Gymnasts Believe in Themselves

Wanderings:Book recommendations from a good-natured Wayne County ghost

Through the Mists of Time

I was born in Honesdale and have lived in Wayne County all my life.

Over the course of the past 25 years, I’ve become fascinated with local history and read every article and book I could get my hands on.

Somehow, though, the tragic tale of May 3, 1923 had eluded me. Eluded me, that is, until last Thursday morning when Troop 1’s John Rodriguez unveiled his Eagle Scout project.

A senior at Honesdale High School, Rodriguez put in countless hours researching this incident. He worked side-by-side with current Wayne County Detective Robert Langman, who is also Scoutmaster of Troop 1.

It was Langman who suggested that Rodriguez consider George Knapp as the focal point of his Eagle Scout project. And, the suggestion immediately resonated.

“My father is a retired NYPD mounted patrol officer,” John said. “So, this project aligns closely with my own morals and beliefs, which come from Scouting and my upbringing.

“George Knapp was shot in the line of duty and his story kind of got lost in history. It was definitely an eye opening experience. It really puts things into perspective.”

When word got out that I was working on a column about this story, I began receiving messages from far and wide. One in particular stood out. It came from an old friend who also happens to be a co-owner of the property where the shootout took place.

He volunteered to take me up into the wilds of Northern Wayne to see the spot for myself. And while just the outlines of the farm, a few crumbling stone walls and overgrown foundations remain, it was a genuinely moving experience.

Armed with photos published by the Wayne County Citizen the day after the incident, we were easily able to reconstruct the scene.

Standing at the precise spot where the bodies of Knapp and Decker had lain almost a century ago, I was struck by how beautiful and eerily quiet it is today.

Surrounded by dense undergrowth and thick forest, the only audible sounds in 2022 are twittering birds, buzzing bees and the gentle murmuring of a little brook that has its origin a few miles away at Wildcat Swamp.

Back in 1923, though, the whole area had been stripped nearly bare of trees by logging companies. From the front of Decker’s house, there would have been a clear line of sight almost all the way down to the main road.

Unfortunately for Knapp and Curran, this gave Decker the upper hand right from the start.

Never Had a Chance

Described by neighbors as a “slight, sickly appearing fella,” Wesley Decker wasted no time in formulating a plan.

As the two lawmen approached, he ran inside, grabbed his Winchester 38-55 rifle, loaded it and waited.

Thinking they’d arrived undetected, Knapp circled around to the back of the house while Curran crept up to the front door. Just a few seconds after Curran knocked, Decker’s rifle roared. The bullet ripped right through the door, ricocheted off Curran’s chin and tore through his shoulder.

Grievously wounded, the detective staggered backward and fell about 15 feet from the house. When Knapp heard the commotion, he came running to Curran’s aid … but, Decker had the drop on him.

The moonshiner fired again, this time through a window. The shot missed, giving Knapp a chance to raise his pistol. Sadly, though, the bullet sailed wide of its mark, allowing Decker to lean out the window and unload at point blank range. The blast tore through Knapp’s torso, piercing both lungs and heart.

The 62-year-old officer, a married man and father of six, dropped the revolver and clutched at his chest. He took a couple of shaky steps backward, looked up to the cloudless cerulean sky, and collapsed dead on the ground.

The acrid smell of gunpowder swirled in the air as Decker coolly surveyed the scene. He was still leaning through the shattered window while reloading his rifle when Curran began trying to crawl away. Decker calmly took aim and fired again, the bullet tearing through both of the detective’s hips. Curran cried out and lay still.

It was at about this time that Decker’s partner in crime, Hornbeck, came striding up the road. Alonzo had built himself a little cabin not far away and was startled by all the gunshots.

A tall, muscular guy who local residents described as a “typical backwoods mountain man,” Hornbeck stood over Curran who was bleeding profusely from his wounds.

“Help me,” the apparently dying lawman begged.

“Go to hell!” the heartless moonshiner sneered.

Bloody Aftermath

According to Hornbeck, Decker was wide-eyed and angry when he first approached him after the firefight.

Alonzo testified that Decker waved him over and began giving him his version of events. As they were talking, Curran scrambled to his feet and stumbled down the road. Decker shrieked and took off in pursuit.

He returned quickly, though, saying the lawman had escaped. It was then that Decker gave Hornbeck his wallet. He asked his old friend to go to Lordville to send his sister a telegram, recounting what had happened and informing her that he was going to kill himself.

Hornbeck said that he didn’t try to talk Decker out of it, but just did as he was asked.

Meanwhile, Curran had somehow managed to reach his car. He climbed in and drove back down to Crooked Creek Road, eventually arriving at the farm of Abner Tyner. There, he burst into the kitchen, collapsed in a chair and told Mr. and Mrs. Tyner he’d been shot.

Curran passed out, but the Tyners sprang into action. A physician was summoned and the police contacted.

Curran’s journey back down the mountain was nothing less than miraculous. The veteran detective had staggered a mile to his car. He’d then driven another three-quarters of a mile while bleeding badly and slipping in and out of consciousness.

Dr. Frisbee quickly arrived at the farmhouse to treat Curran. Not long after, Sheriff T.Y. Boyd appeared with a posse consisting of 15 local residents armed to the teeth.

The men marched up to the so-called farm and swarmed the property. They found Knapp still lying exactly where he’d fallen and Decker about 10 feet away. As promised, he had committed suicide.

Before long, Hornbeck was located and taken into custody. He never admitted to any role in the shootings and always maintained he had nothing to do with Decker’s moonshine operation.

After an autopsy conducted at the general store in Equinunk, Knapp’s body was taken by buckboard back to Honesdale. Several days later thousands of people attended his funeral at the Central Methodist Church.

“George Knapp gave his life in enforcing the laws of our country,” said Rev. JS Crompton during his eulogy. "He was as much a hero as those who died on the battlefield. He was a brave and good citizen, an excellent officer, devoted husband and father.”

To this day, Special Officer Knapp remains the only local lawman ever killed in the line of duty.

Long Overdue Honor

John Rodriguez is an impressive young man who seems destined to accomplish great things in his lifetime.

Not only is Rodriguez an Eagle Scout, but he’s also a bona fide renaissance man.

The 18-year-old has been inducted into the National Honor Society. He is Class of 2022 President, a Student Council member, captain of the boys varsity tennis team and Head Drum Major of the Highlander marching band. He’s also active on the stage and in the St. John the Evangelist Youth Group.

It took Rodriguez more than four months to complete his project, which culminated on Thursday morning when a crowd gathered near Central Park to witness the unveiling of a set of signs commemorating Knapp’s heroics.

From now on, the circular drive that loops around the Wayne County Courthouse will be known as Detective George B. Knapp Memorial Lane.

“Knapp was shot while performing fairly regular duties of the time,“ Rodriguez said. “Examples like this add to the level of respect, admiration and appreciation our law enforcement officers deserve, but do not always get.”

John is the son of Ralph and Jennifer Rodriguez, Bethany. His future plans include attending either the United States Air Force Academy or Embry Riddle Aeronautical University to study aeronautical engineering.

“I hope my project provokes thought about the service and sacrifice of our law enforcement officers who are so dedicated in their work to keep us and our communities safe,” John said.

“It’s meant to serve as a reminder of the risks that law enforcement officers face on a daily basis.”