At Sing Sing

Prisons are abnormal places. Most things that happen in them would be incongruous in society at large. Conversely, much that happens in society at large would seem incongruous in a prison. One evening last week there were three episodes at Sing Sing, New York's famed penitentiary, of which the most horrible was the least incongruous:

1) About 1,000 visitors filed into the prison after nightfall. As the rule requires, all were searched. Ten, it was discovered, carried flasks of whiskey. Warden Lewis E. Lawes commented: "If you searched the ordinary theatre audience of that size it's quite likely you'd find more than that."

2) The visitors had come to see the convicts' annual show. A cast of 60 criminals sang, danced, wisecracked through the musical comedy No, No, Nanette.

3) The visitors left before midnight. The prison quieted down. In a secluded room sat Convict Thomas ("Red") Moran, 22, who murdered two Brooklyn policemen in 1926. Convict Moran was playing pinochle with his keeper and talking to Warden Lawes and Father McCaffrey, the prison chaplain. About 1 a. m. some others came in. Convict Moran lit a cigaret. They led him to, and through, a little green door. He flipped away his cigaret and sat down silently in the electric chair. Six minutes later he was pronounced dead. It was New York's 288th execution.