Mister 880’s Little Press Leaves Lasting Impression; similar one on display at Fourth Ward School

This is a story about history and Hollywood. Art imitating life. Often times when the two met, history took a back seat to hype and drama in order to insure good attendance at the box office. This time however, the story was so good, and so strong, that not even Hollywood could screw this one up. The year was 1950 and the film was titled: “Mister 880.” It was based on ten years in the life of Emerich Juettner, who was also known as Edward Mueller.

Born in Austria, Mueller migrated to America as a young teenager around the turn of the 20th century. He labored as a handyman and later became a building superintendent in New York City. In time he married and fathered two children, but by 1937 was widowed and his grown children had left home. Mueller struggled financially in the latter years of the great depression, and to make ends meet he became a junkman; picking up old tires, scrap metal and anything else he could sell to pay the rent.

Nearly destitute, Mueller decided to use some basic skills he’d learned in his youth in the art of engraving and printing, and in November, 1938 became a counterfeiter of one dollar bills. Every day Mueller would make the rounds with  his pushcart in New York picking up junk, and passing only one or two dollars daily and never to the same merchant twice. He would pass the bills at the busiest time of day, always buying an item for a nickel or a dime, and getting  most of that dollar back in clean change.  Mueller rarely changed his routine and had an incredible run of luck dodging the Secret Service for ten years.

When the bills first appeared in 1938 the Secret Service opened case file #880, and thought they would have their man in short order because the bills were so badly reproduced. By the end of 1939, “Mr. 880’s” file contained over 600 counterfeits. As the years passed the printing grew worse. Not only was Mueller using cheap bond paper that made the printing fuzzy, but in the process of engraving a new set of plates had misspelled the president’s name as “Wahsington.”  

By 1947, the Secret Service had more than 5,000 counterfeit one dollar bills in “Mr. 880’s” file. The total number of bills he passed was never known to a certainty, because as his reputation grew, merchants kept them as souvenirs rather then turning them over to the government. By 1947, the Secret Service had a decade of investigation into the case, and had conducted thousands of interviews, but still didn’t have a clue as to the identify of “Mr. 880.”

Mueller’s streak of luck ended suddenly just before Christmas of 1947 when his apartment caught fire. Mueller wasn’t home, and when firemen arrived to fight the blaze they began throwing his belongings in the alley, including his press, plates, and a few bogus bills he had just printed. Why the firemen never noticed all this has never been determined. However, a couple of weeks later when some neighborhood kids were rummaging through Mueller’s junk and, found some funny looking one dollar bills they took them to their parents who contacted the authorities. The end came for “Mr. 880” in mid-January, 1948 when he returned to his newly renovated apartment.

At his court trial, Mueller confessed to his guilt and stated he only knocked off a few bills whenever he needed to buy food for himself and his old mongrel dog. And, of course there was always that nagging little financial problem at the end of the month when the rent was due. Because of his advanced age and complete lack of greed the judge took kindly to Mueller, and sentenced him to just a year in jail and a fine of $1.00, a real dollar bill. Mueller was released just four months into his sentence and went to live out his life with his daughter in Queens, New York.

Mueller’s story would no doubt have been relegated to the dusty bins of criminal justice history, had it not been for the efforts of one man who was intent on keeping the story of “Mr. 880” alive for future generations to enjoy. 

St.Clair McKelway was a writer and managing editor of The New Yorker Magazine. In 1950, he published a book titled: “True Tales from the Annals of Crime & Rascality.” The book contained several stories he had previously published in The New Yorker, and one of those stories was the incredible tale of “Mr. 880.” The story was now a hot property and it didn’t take long for Hollywood to come-a-callin’. The “suits” over at 20th Century Fox struck first, and quickly assembled a cast and crew to get “Mister 880” on film while the story was still smokin’.

Casting Mueller’s role as “Mr. 880” wasn’t going to be easy. The people at Fox were going to need an elderly actor who could portray a wily, mischievous individual to make the film even remotely creditable. They made an excellent choice in signing 73 year old English actor Edmund Gwenn for the part of Skipper Miller, who in reality was “Mr. 880.”  Rounding out the cast was Burt Lancaster as Secret Service agent Steve Buchanan in hot pursuit of “Mr. 880” and Dorothy McGuire as  Buchanan’s love interest.

An interesting side note here is that three years earlier, in 1947, Gwenn played the iconic role of Kris Kringle in the movie, “Miracle on 34th Street.” He won both the Golden Globe and Academy Award Oscar in the supporting actor category for that role, making him the only actor in motion picture history to win an academy award playing the role of Santa Claus. He was also nominated for an Oscar as supporting actor in “Mister 880”, but lost out to fellow actor, George Sanders in the film, “All About Eve.”

“Mister 880” was released in 1950 and did a brisk business at the box office. Thankfully, the folks at Fox didn’t screw around too much with the truth, and the film was a fair portrayal of actual events that took place in that ten year period when “Mr. 880” was doing his thing.

I was nine years old when I saw “Mr. 880” in 1950. The movie has always been one of my favorites because of my involvement with letterpress printing for over a half century. The film doesn’t get much air play today, certainly not like “Miracle On 34th Street” that we see every Christmas Holiday season. Just recently I was watching Turner Classic Movies, and came upon “Mr. 880” carrying his little press to the kitchen table so he could pay that month's rent. Over the years of watching this movie I’ve never given any thought about the make of the press he had used until now.

There were only a couple of small press manufacturers at the time, but the  company that led the way for sheer number and quality was the Kelsey company. Kelsey began operations in Meriden, Connecticut in 1872, and produced thousands of small hand presses in several different sizes for over a century before closing their factory in the mid-1990’s. The company mostly marketed their presses to the youth who wanted to learn the printing trade and make a few bucks printing business cards, invitations, and the like. Although the company promoted these presses to the kids, they were anything but toys. Kelsey presses were precision machines forged in cast metal with iron parts. Their most popular press was the 5x8” Excelsior model that came with self-inking rollers.

The 5x8” numbers indicate the size of the printing area the press was capable of printing, big enough to print a dollar bill which is just a tad over six inches in length. The press weighed 72 pounds and sold for under $50.00 in the 1930’s. So is this the press “Mr. 880” used to foil the Secret Service for ten years? I believe so, but “Mr. 880” didn’t buy the press from the Kelsey Co., but probably acquired it one day while making his rounds picking up junk. Between the press, ink and paper, “Mr. 880” probably went into the counterfeit business for around ten bucks, certainly no more than $20, and this is what kept the Secret Service at bay for ten years. 

“Mr. 880” and his printing press is a fascinating piece of Americana. If you would like to learn more about letterpress printing and see a 5x8” Kelsey press, one will be on display this year at the Fourth Ward School print shop in Virginia City. The school opened in 1876 and graduated its last class in 1936. After standing vacant for 50 years, it opened in 1986 as a museum and culture center, and has educated thousands of visitors about the history of Virginia City and the famed Comstock Lode. 

In the early part of the 20th century, students at the school acquired a couple of presses, some type and started their own newspaper called “The Senior Dynamo.” When the school closed in ‘36, those presses went silent until 1997 when the new print shop opened on the second floor in the Mark Twain room. The centerpiece is the 8x12 Chandler & Price treadle letterpress of 19th century vintage, and operates by foot power, using no electricity. There are other printing artifacts on display and of course this year’s star attraction, the little Kelsey. Come and see the little press that gave the Secret Service a big headache.

The Fourth Ward School is open from 10am to 5pm daily from May 1st to October 31st. The school is located at the South end of town on “C” St. Visit the website at www.fourthwardschool.org or call 775-847-0975.

— Chic DiFrancia is a long-time Virginia City resident, freelance writer, historian and letterpress printer. In his youth he once was a typesetter at the Territorial Enterprise in Virginia City.