The Judge Who Fought the Law . . . and Won

The Colorful Trial of Judge Rollie Webb

Early in the evening of May 6, 1953, Judge Rollie Webb entered The Bend cocktail lounge, for what he claimed was business with Max Oncina, the proprietor. Oncina served Webb “more than one but less than four” highballs, before turning the bar over to Albert Curry at 6 p.m., for the evening shift.

Curry and Webb had history—some months earlier, Curry refused Webb service because he was intoxicated.

While Curry poured Webb two more highballs of vodka and 7-Up, Webb struck up a conversation with a young private from Two Rock Ranch Army base named Gerald Jones. After learning Jones shared a common Welsh ancestry, Webb insisted they sing a “Welsh” song together. Standing up, he launched into a rendition of “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling.”

When Curry asked him to keep it down, Webb turned to Jones and suggested they “clean up the bar” in proper Welsh fashion. Instead, Jones bolted for the door.

Webb continued stumbling about the bar, singing Irish ballads. He responded to Curry’s repeated requests to sit down with profanity, demanding that he “buy him a drink.” Finally, Curry called the police to complain that the judge was drunk and raising Cain. After the call, Webb left The Bend and crossed the street to the 101 Club.

When patrolman George Wagner entered the 101, Webb ordered him to remove his hat in his presence. “I am the law in Petaluma,” he told Wagner, “and I can do what I want.”

Placing Webb under arrest, Wagner helped Webb into his patrol car and drove him to the police station two blocks away in City Hall on Fourth Street. At the station he was booked for being drunk in a public place, and released on his own recognizance. His physician drove down to give him a ride home to his house on Galland Street.

The county district attorney refused to prosecute the case, as did Petaluma’s city attorney, Karl Brooks, who cited an ordinance that a person could not be arrested for being drunk inside a bar.

That surprised Police Chief Melvin “Noonie” Del Maestro, who took Brooks’ interpretation of the ordinance to mean his department had arrested hundreds of people without authority since that particular ordinance went into effect in 1942.

Once news of the dropped charges went viral in newspapers across the country—“Petaluma Judge Freed in Drunk Case,” casting a pall of corruption over the town, Brooks reversed himself, instructing Del Maestro to charge Webb with being intoxicated on a city street while crossing from The Bend to the 101 Club.

Announcing his plea of not guilty, and demanding a jury trial, Webb had just one thing to say about the circus-like atmosphere of the case: “I’d like to have the TV rights to this.”²

Born in Oakland in 1911, Rolland Clyde Webb was two months old when his parents moved to Petaluma. After graduating from Petaluma High School in 1928, he married Le Tier Beck and took a job as a mortician in town with the John C. Mount Funeral Parlor, while also serving as a deputy county coroner.

In 1935, Webb was stricken with tuberculosis, spending most of the next two years undergoing surgeries at Stanford Hospital and recuperating at a sanitarium in St. Helena. Upon his recovery, he returned to Petaluma with new-found determination, throwing his hat in the ring as a candidate for justice of the peace, a position that didn’t require a law degree.

Only 28 years old, he cited his work as a mortician as good experience in working with the public. Surprisingly, he won.³

“Rollie,” as he was widely known, quickly became a colorful fixture among Petaluma’s 8,000 residents. Diminutive in stature, he was a popular track star and debater in high school, and retained a competitive and argumentative spirit, both on and off the bench. Active in various fraternal orders and non-profit organizations, he took joy in writing poetry and singing light opera and Irish ballads.

After being reelected to two more terms as justice of the peace, he set his sights on higher office, making an unsuccessful run in 1948 for Congress, and a second unsuccessful run in 1950 for county supervisor.⁴

Shortly thereafter, a change in state law required that Petaluma’s two lower courts—the justice of the peace and the city police court, which handled police arrests—be merged into one so-called justice court.

The new court remained limited to minor duties—criminal misdemeanors, small dollar civil cases, administering oaths, and performing marriage ceremonies—but with a higher jurisdiction in terms of the fines and jail time it was able to impose. As had been the case for justices of the peace like Webb, there were no special qualifications for being a judge.⁵

In November 1952, Webb won election to the new justice court, beating out Petaluma’s former city police court judge. His election marked the beginning of a long-running feud with Del Maestro.

Like Webb, Del Maestro grew up in Petaluma. After graduating from Petaluma High in 1924, he married his high school sweetheart, went away to barber school, and then opened up his own barbershop in town.

The onset of the Depression hurt his business, leading him to join the police force in 1933. He was recruited largely because of his skills as a former Golden Gloves boxing champion. With Prohibition ending, a new era of barroom brawls was born. Known for being able to hold his own in a fight, Del Maestro’s talents came in handy during the 1940s as well, when soldiers stationed at nearby Two Rock Ranch and Hamilton Field made Petaluma their favorite drinking spot.

Del Maestro was also known for operating by a code of street justice. One telling example occurred in the mid-1940s when he went to question a transient in the railroad yard. After the man took off running, Del Maestro, an excellent marksman who trained at the FBI Academy, drew his revolver and felled him with a flesh wound to his right leg. Fastening a bandana around the bleeding wound, he took the man home to his wife Gladys for treatment.⁶

After 17 years on the force, Del Maestro was appointed chief of police in 1950, overseeing an eight-man department.⁷

While Webb shared Del Maestro’s disposition for not operating strictly by the book—he liked to point out that if the book worked in every case, there wouldn’t be a need for judges—he tended to lean in the opposite direction of De Maestro, tempering justice with mercy, so much mercy in some cases that officers of the law often left his court in despair.

In one of his classic cases involving a young man convicted of assault, Webb asked Del Maestro if he would agree to delaying the start of the man’s jail sentence, so as to allow him to continue operating his family business in Tomales. Del Maestro said no. “Every consideration is for the defendant when we get to court,” he added. “No thought is given to the poor people he abused. He should know that if he breaks the law, he will have to go to jail.”

As a compromise, Webb sentenced the man to 10 two-day weekends in jail.

It was no secret Webb was a drinker. He often found before him on the bench suspects he had shared drinks with the night before at a bar in town. “You only had three beers?” the common joke about Webb went. “I bought you four myself!”

Webb’s new role as judge of the justice court presiding over police arrests, went into effect in January 1953. Five months later Webb was arrested at the 101 Club.

His jury trial was held in the city council chambers at City Hall. The case drew an estimated 100 spectators, many of whom stood in the hall throughout the trial. The proceedings were retried in the evenings at every bar in town.

For legal counsel, Webb hired LeRoy Lounibos, Sr., one of Petaluma’s most prominent attorneys. Unleashing an aggressive, theatrical defense, Lounibos raised the tension in the courtroom, overwhelming City Attorney Brooks, a relatively inexperienced prosecutor.

Lounibos zeroed in on the weakness in the city’s case, which was finding a witness who had actually seen Webb cross Main Street in an inebriated state. He called to the stand the 101 Club’s owner and bartender, Joe Monteno, who testified that he watched Webb walk into his bar angry but completely sober.

Willie Brown, a legless man who operated a shoeshine stand adjacent to the 101 Club, testified Webb walked across the street from The Bend “very correctly.” Webb’s physician said he examined him that night after driving him home, and found him to be “perfectly sober.”

In his caustic cross-examination of the prosecution’s witness Private Jones, who testified watching a drunk Webb causing trouble in The Bend, Lounibos got him to admit that he was only 19 and drinking in the bar. Lounibos asked the judge to strike Jones’ testimony and have him taken into custody for violating the state liquor control law.

Private Jones passed out in the hallway after leaving the courtroom, and had to be taken to the hospital in an ambulance.

Testifying on his own behalf, Webb attributed his boisterous actions that evening to a “big slug” of the medicine he took just before going into The Bend. His doctor explained that he had prescribed dexadrine for him to use as a stimulant when he was feeling emotionally upset, mentally fatigued, or physically exhausted, all three of which Webb said he was experiencing that evening.⁸

The trial lasted two days. The jury of 11 men and one woman took only eight minutes to reach a verdict of not guilty. Acquitted, Webb left the courtroom announcing he had “malice toward none.”⁹ Four days later, he filed a claim against the city and several individuals for $100,000 in damages for false arrest, and inflicting “severe and unusual mental anguish, pain, and humiliation.”

Among those named in the claim were Del Maestro and Wagner. “It looks like I’m Petaluma’s political pawn,” Webb told the press. “And a small group of people are our to get me.”¹⁰

Two weeks later, Brooks found the claim to be without merit. The city council agreed. Webb had a year in which to respond with a lawsuit against the city.¹¹ He did not. The claim had achieved its purpose of smearing Del Maestro and the police department.

In late January 1954, Webb failed to show up in court one morning. It turned out the county sheriff had issued a temporary holding charge of inebriation against him, placing him in the Sonoma County Hospital to sober up.¹² In the court of Petaluma it didn’t matter. Webb was reelected to two more six-year terms as justice of the judicial court.

The feud between Webb and Del Maestro continued unabated until the late 1960s, as both law enforcement and the courts nationwide found themselves under increasing scrutiny due in large part to Civil Rights and anti-Vietnam protests.

“The negative, resentful attitude many people have toward the police,” officer George Wagner later observed, “is due to an unfortunate attitude that has become too prevalent in out society.”

He noted that when he walked the beat alone in the early 1950s, he could always count on assistance from citizens if he needed it. “Now it’s a whole new ball game. The majority of people seldom cooperate when a crime is committed. As the city grew larger and more people moved here, there seemed to be less compassion.”¹³

His boss, Del Maestro, retired from the force in 1968, replaced by a Petaluma Police Sergeant Larry Higgins, a native of Idaho.

That same year, a new state law converted Petaluma’s justice court to a municipal court, one that now required a sitting judge with a law degree. Alexander J. McMahon, a judge in Sonoma and a native of San Francisco, was appointed the new district judge for south Sonoma County. Forced to resign from the bench, Webb was appointed a municipal clerk in McMahon’s new court.¹⁴

So ended Petaluma’s era of homegrown justice.

*****

Footnotes

1. “Webb is Arrested on Drunk Charge,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 7, 1953; “Judge Webb’s Case May Go To Jury Today,” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, July 9, 1953; “Verdict on Webb is ‘Not Guilty,’” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, July 10, 1953; “Doctor Says Webb Was Sober May 6th,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 9, 1953.
2. “Petaluma’s Only Judge Charged as Drunk, City Without Court,” Napa Register, May 7, 1953; “Petaluma Judge Freed in Drunk Case,” Sacramento Bee, May 14, 1953; “City Attorney Opinion Holds Up Webb Case,” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, May 14, 1953.
3. “Rolly Webb in Justice Race,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, May 3, 1938; “Rolland Webb’s Election Seems Sure,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, September 1, 1938.
4. “Death Takes Rolland Webb,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, April 10, 1972.
5. Oral History Interview with Judge Monty Hellam, 1970, Mayo Hayes O’Donnell Library, Monterey, California. https://www.mayohayeslibrary.org/transcription-of-an-oral-history-of-the-monterey-police-court.html
6. “No One’s Afraid of Cops Anymore,” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, September 26, 1993.
7. “Del Maestro, ex-Police Chief, Dies,” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, September 21, 1993; “George Wagner,” Petaluma Argus Courier, April 23, 1977.
8. “Doctor Says Webb Was Sober May 6th,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 9, 1953.
9. “No Malice, Webb Admits,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 10, 1953; “Verdict on Webb is ‘Not Guilty,’” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, July 10, 1953.
10. “Long Range City, Court Fight Seen,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, July 15, 1953.
11. “Webb’s Big Claim is Denied by the City,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 4, 1953.
12. “Judge Webb Held for Inebriacy,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 25, 1954; “Judge Webb Out of Hospital,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, January 27, 1954.
13. Chris Samson, “George Wagner,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, March 23, 1977.
14. “Del Maestro, ex-Police Chief, Dies,” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, September 21, 1993; “Rolland Webb Dies at Age 63,” Santa Rosa Press Democrat, April 10, 1972; “Petaluma Police Chief Resigning,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, November 7, 1967; “Gov. Reagan Signs Bill on New Municipal Court,” Petaluma Argus-Courier, August 26, 1967; Judge McMahon, 53, Dies in His Sleep Wednesday,” Petaluma Argus Courier, September 23, 1976.