Old Joliet Prison
000 And the Red Roof Inn Caper
Old Joliet Prison • Joliet, IL • Day Seven
Old Joliet Prison in Joliet, IL is a civil war era prison complex that operated from 1858 until its closure in 2002. Its most famous inmate was a guy named “Joliet” Jake Blues, who served time for robbing a gas station in order to pay for his bandmates’ room service tab. It’s true. Really. I saw the 1980 documentary.
Jake Blues was far from the worst offender ever to reside at Joliet. It was also home to some of the worst of the most notorious criminals in American history. Serial killer John Wayne Gacy (AKA Pogo the Clown) spent his last days here. Depression era mobster and one time “Public Enemy Number One,” Baby Face Nelson was a guest, as were Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, who’s murder of 14-year-old Bobby Franks in Chicago in 1924 was labeled at the time “the crime of the century.”
Yard Department
Like Carrie Blast Furnaces from my recent Pittsburgh trip, Joliet is undergoing a process of historical preservation. It hosts community events, night time ghost tours, and less scary daytime tours, both hosted and self-guided. Cameras encouraged. Sign us up.
If you haven’t guessed, Old Joliet Prison was also an official stop on our Route 66 Photography Adventure. The last one, to be specific, and one of the most highly anticipated.
Sound advice
We checked in at the main office and gift shop, a small building across from the prison’s main entrance. The gift shop was heavy in Blues Brothers merchandise, with a few Joliet-specific items, including stickers and shirts declaring “IT’S NEVER TOO LATE! TO MEND” in a text graphic. We later saw, that graphic is, somewhat ironically, painted on the floor of Joliet’s Death Row.
SIDE NOTE: The last scene of the movie The Blues Brothers (which I just learned IS NOT a documentary) prominently features the “TO MEND” graphic on the wall behind the band as they play Jailhouse Rock.
We were each handed a map, which doubled as our ticket, and given the ground rules: There is no running water, but there are a few port-o-johns on the grounds (I’ll hold it, thanks). Some buildings were closed due to safety concerns or construction. The guard towers, the chapel, and library were among those off limits, but the cell blocks, Death Row, and a few other buildings were open to us.
We had an hour and a half to roam freely, but were encouraged to consult the map for a timely, preferred path through the grounds. We were then directed to the “Blues Brothers Gate” on the east side, where we checked in and started our last Route 66 shoot.
Guard Tower
I was especially drawn to the exterior of the grounds. The 19th century prison architecture was beautiful. The limestone buildings and walls were warm in tone, but felt cold and confining. It was definitely a prison. Ever-vigilant guard towers on all corners and in the center of the grounds denied the prison population any feeling of freedom.
Cell Block
Dripping with pealing paint, the cellblocks were left to natural decay. The stereotypical jail cells each had a small desk with a stool, both bolted to the floor, a toilet and a sink. In most cells the toilet and sink were a more modern ergonomic, space-saving, stainless steel combination. In others, the toilet and sink were older, separate components.
Hoops
Most cells had been stripped of the stereotypical bunkbeds. A couple had them had the frames, no mattresses. In one block, the cell doors were bars. The other, higher security block, the cell doors were cold, hard steel.
Power Plant and Death Row
All cells also had a single small mirror above the sink — just because you’re in prison doesn’t meant mean you can’t look good. For obvious reasons, they weren’t made of glass. Stainless steel was safer for prisoners and guards alike. Hanging from a mirror in one cell, a small knitted cross. Possibly left by a prisoner looking “TO MEND.”
Prison Yard Phone Bank
We definitely exceeded our 90 minute window of access, but thankfully, nobody called us out. We would not be incarcerated for a violation of the rules.
After we wrapped up our fun at Joliet, it was time to check in to our hotel, grab dinner and a beer. And that brings me to:
The Red Roof Inn Caper
High Security Cell
Throughout the trip, our hotels were hastily booked from the road earlier in the day. We opted for flexibility, forfeiting the rigidity of advanced planning. We looked for familiar names that wouldn’t break the bank — a price-point somewhere between that of The Hilton and any place that advertised ‘Hourly Rates.’ We have our standards.
On our drive to Joliet earlier that day, Mike Tully searched the Google Machine for a motel that fit our criteria. He found a Red Roof Inn located in an industrial area in Joliet, a couple of miles from the prison. Industrial areas were our go-to. They were high traffic areas with lots of surrounding businesses, and other motels, nearby convenience stores, gas stations, etc. The pictures purporting to be the Joliet Red Roof Inn looked nice, so Mike called ahead and booked it.
Fast forward: After the prison shoot, we navigated to the Red Roof Inn. Since Mike booked the room and they were under one card, he hit the lobby to check us in, returning with the key cards a few minutes later. Our rooms were in the building in the back — we didn’t know there was a building in the back. Mike Tully and I shared a room on one end of the building, Rick and Mike Criswell the other end.
As soon as we opened the door, Mike and I were hit with a strong chemical odor. It smelled like a strong industrial cleaner or pesticide. Maybe combination of both. On a scale of scale of One-to-Ten, it registered at about a Six.
Tired and hungry from the day, and having stayed in a motel earlier in the week with a similar odor that reached only a Four, we thought, “not great, but whatever.”
Then I got a call from Rick. Before I could say hello, Rick pounced with all caps, bold type and no breath between phrases: “WE DON’T FEEL SAFE HERE! THE ROOM SMELLS LIKE INDUSTRIAL WASTE AND THERE’S A DRUG DEAL GOING ON IN FRONT OF OUR ROOM!”
“We’ll be right down,” I replied.
Inmate Processing
Mike T and I locked our room and walked six doors down to Mike C and Rick’s. We passed one room, door open, a middle aged man resembling Chuck Berry, wearing a sleeveless tee shirt and sweat pants was lounging on the bed. On the dirt lawn in front his room, a small bbq grill.
It’s Never Too Late to Mend
In front of Rick’s room, an old beat-up Buick, a woman leaning on the door, chatting with another woman, the driver. Who was dealing drugs to whom, we didn’t know and didn’t care to.
The two women, who looked to have more miles on them than the Buick, peered at us as we walked into Rick’s room, door open to help dissipate the toxic fumes.
And those fumes were crippling. If the odor in our room was a six out of ten, these clocked in at TWELVE.
After a quick discussion of the events of last few minutes, and with our friends at the old Buick still staring us down, we came to the conclusion that the Joliet Red Roof Inn was a welfare motel. We decided to leave.
Hoping everything was still there, Mike and I returned to our room to gather our belongings. On the way, we passed Chuck Berry, who was now standing outside his room smoking a cigar. “Afternoon, sir,” Chuck said with a nod.
“Nice guy,” I thought as we hurried by, replying in kind.
The “checkout” process wasn’t pretty. Obviously, we wanted our money back. The manager did not want to issue a refund. Instead, he offered to give us different rooms, ones that presumably didn’t include toxic fumes and a front row seat to illicit commerce. Rick declined the offer as only he could: “YOU ARE NOT LISTENING! WE ARE NOT STAYING HERE! IT IS NOT SAFE!”
After much back and forth, and eventual banishment from ever staying at the Joliet Red Roof Inn (life isn’t fair), we left.
We checked into a hotel far across town — a Hilton.
Thanks for stopping by.
000 About This Series
From April 12 through April 20, 2025, I was on a Route 66 Photography Adventure (The Trip) with three good friends and like minded photographers. This series is recap of The Trip in stories and images.
All of the images were shot on that historic road or within a couple of miles of it. Neither the images nor stories are necessarily presented in chronological order.
Enjoying the series? Drop a comment.