Park Predators - The Fish

Episode Date: August 4, 2026

When three Minnesota game wardens are gunned down in front of multiple witnesses, a small town is split on one pivotal question…could a popular catfish be to blame? View source material and photos for this episode at: parkpredators.com/the-fish Did you know you can listen to Park Predators ad-free? Join the Crime Junkie Fan Club! Visit https://crimejunkiepodcast.com/fanclub/ to view the current membership options and policies. Park Predators is an Audiochuck production.  Connect with us on social media: Instagram: @parkpredators | @audiochuck Twitter: @ParkPredators | @audiochuck Facebook: /ParkPredators  | /audiochuckllc TikTok: @audiochuck Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Hi, park enthusiasts. I'm your host, D'Lia Diambra. And the case I'm going to tell you about today takes place in Waterville, Minnesota, which I know is not a park in and of itself, but it is located right between two very popular resort lakes in Minnesota, called Totonka Lake and Sakata Lake. In the summer of 1940, these two bodies of water were brimming with activity. Boaters, residents, tourists, they were all taking to the lakes. but it was anglers and commercial fishermen who were most obsessed with these shimmering waters. You see, Waterville prides itself as being known as the bullhead capital of the world. And if you're wondering what the heck a bullhead is,

it's a certain species of catfish that is native to North America. They have whisker-like appendages, tend to dwell in muddy, calm waters, and according to Minnesota's Department of Natural Resources website, these fish have a unique ability to endure harsh winters that usually kill off other species. During the Great Depression, catching, eating, or selling bullheads became a way of life for a lot of people who were hit hard by economic adversity. Author James M. Keller, who wrote a great book about this case titled Tragedy on Fish Row, The Waterville Shootings, stated that throughout the 1930s, thousands of pounds of bullheads were fished from area lakes and distributed nationwide. At some point, though, the massive number of harvest drew the attention of state game wardens who were concerned that the lakes might be being overfeworthy.

fished. Territorial beef between anglers began to emerge and even acts of violence happened. But it seems no crime was as shocking as the triple homicide in the heart of Waterville that to this day has never quite gone away, at least not for the people living in the bullhead capital of the world. This is Park Predators. On the evening of Friday, July 12th, 1940, three Minnesota fishing game wardens named Dudley Brady Marcus Wipps and Adolf Melvin Holt, who most often went by Melvin, arrived at a property on the southwest corner of Sakata Lake in Waterville to check on a well-known fish dealer named Bryant Baumgardner. At that time, there were about 140 people working for the state's game warden corps.

Generally, each warden was in charge of monitoring about a 650-square-mile territory. Wardens had authority anywhere in the state, but most of the time they were assigned to areas they were familiar with. Marcus Whips district included Waterville. In that particular day, he'd enlisted Melvin and Dudley to help him in an ongoing investigation into illegal fish harvesting. People in Waterville knew who Marcus was, and because he took his job so seriously, there were even times when folks would get into it with him because of how strictly he enforced fish-and-game restrictions. Author James Keller cited coverage by what was formerly known as the Minneapolis Tribune, which reported that throughout the 1930s and early 1940s, people were regularly being arrested for using illegal

methods to harvest bullheads. Most commonly, bullheads would bite on worms. Anglers would go out in rowboats, toss in their lines from cane poles, and snag however many they could get. But that method was slower, less mass catching, if you will. But of course, people who wanted to catch a larger number of bullheads in a single trip would rig a set line or throw out a net, which wasn't allowed. Nearly 55 years earlier, state lawmakers had signed a bill that created what was then known as the Minnesota Board of Game and Fish Commissioners. Members of that board were appointed by the governor and tasked with selecting one state game warden and four deputy game wardens who would act as enforcement for fishing game restrictions. The legislation that created those positions also clearly spelled out what the penalties were for violating state regulations. Additional bills were later passed which further clarified restrictions on fishing,

specifically when it came to catching bullheads. A bill that was passed in 1938, for example, stated that bullheads and other fish over 16 inches were legal to keep so long as they were caught in certain ways during certain months. This law specifically stated that it was illegal to catch and keep more than 50 bullheads at one time. But legislation like this really upset fishermen who were relying on limitless bullhead quotas

to support their families and businesses. They reportedly wrote letters, expressing their displeasure with the new law, but nothing changed. And for the game wardens, things were equally as messy, because the wording in the latest legislation was kind of confusing. There were exceptions on catch limits depending on what body of water you fished in, and all sorts of funky clauses. So it was challenging for game wardens to truly enforce the possession limit laws.

On top of those challenges, being a game warden in general, at least when the positions were first created, wasn't all that in a bag of chips. They weren't paid very much, they weren't given service weapons, except at night, and they often encountered hostility. Also, the criminal courts didn't seem to treat the violations they cited people for as being that important. In 1931, the state merged a few different agencies and created what is known as the Department of Conservation, and that was the enforcement arm which housed the Game Warden's Corps. It was then that finally the Game Warden started to get the resources and attention they needed.

Total side note, but eventually several decades later, the Department of Conservation was renamed the Department of Natural Resources, which is the entity name most people recognize today. Anyway, fast forward to the summer of 1940, and Marcus Whips, along with other gay wardens in the state, had put their heads together and come up with a strategic plan to catch illegal bullhead harvesters. Their main area of focus?

Waterville, a known trouble spot for bullhead bootleggers. officers in nearly every Fish and Game District in Minnesota worked together to clandestinely monitor truck and train stations that were suspected of transporting illegally caught bullheads. These shipments were reportedly going as far away as Sioux Falls, South Dakota, and Des Moines, Iowa. At the truck and train depots, wardens would question the buyers about who was supplying them with their shipments. Trying to trace shipments back to individual suppliers was time-consuming work, but Marcus, Dudley, and Melvin all participated in these kinds of. of operations to weasel out who was responsible for the racket. According to the available news coverage in this case and a former Chief Game Morden's report cited in James Keller's book, Bryant Baumgardner was a person who authorities strongly suspected

was involved in this illegal activity. Because look, options were limited in Waterville. Fishermen would most often sell their harvest to two fish houses in the area. A local veterinarian who owned a resort and also ran a mink farm near Totonka Lake, or to 55, four-year-old Brian. He was a Navy veteran who lived with his family in a little house right next to a barn that doubled ass his fish processing plant. Locals considered Bryant a major player in this industry because he employed a lot of people and had what was considered to be a successful business in a time period where economic success for anyone was difficult to come by.

So on Friday, July 12th, when Marcus, Dudley, and Melvin approached Bryant's property, there was potential for a confrontation to happen. Marcus had long been suspicious of Bryant, and the two of them had clashed in the past. Needless to say, they were not the biggest fans of one another. According to James Keller's book, Tragedy on Fish Row, Melvin and Dudley had actually visited Bryant's fish operation a few hours earlier before Marcus joined them. They'd shown up and told Bryant that they wanted to verify that his fishing license was in good standing, and they also requested to review his sales records.

During that interaction, Bryant had been uncooperative and told the game wardens that unless they had a search warrant for what they wanted to see, they needed to leave. So they did. Later that day, though, Bryant left his property with a hall of fish and drove to a nearby train station to offload it. While he was gone, Melvin Dudley and Marcus, this time armed with a warrant, arrived at his property. But because he wasn't there, they had to wait for him to return. When Bryant did come back, he was, as you could imagine, not thrilled to see the same two game wardens he'd ordered off his property earlier that day, standing there, let alone with Marcus Whips, a third warden who he didn't like, right alongside them.

Tensions grew as Marcus, Dudley, and Melvin made their way into Bryant's barn and began observing the volume of bullheads he and his employees were processing. The officers found skins and heads of bullheads that weighed about a thousand pounds, 300 pounds of which had already been prepared for shipment. According to what one of Bryant's workers told the men, in Cato Free Press, the game wardens and Bryant then began arguing, and one of the officers told Bryant that they were going to seize the bullheads that were in the barn. As things escalated, Melvin quizzed Bryant as to whether he even had the proper license to operate a commercial fishing business, to which Bryant responded that he did. He then excused himself to retrieve it

and walked into his house, which was right next door. However, when Bryant came out of his place, he wasn't holding a fishing license. He was holding a shotgun. Melvin Marcus and Dudley were likely surprised to see Bryant armed with a 12-gauge semi-automatic shotgun as he walked out of his home. But according to at least five witnesses who were there, one of the wardens spoke up and remarked to Bryant that there was no use getting smart with the weapon. To which Bryant reportedly responded, quote, I'll show you whether I'll get smart or not, end quote. As soon as the words left his mouth, he aimed his firearm at Marcus Whips and fired. The blast hit the gay morden right in his chest, and it was so powerful it reportedly knocked him back several feet and he landed in a nearby garden. Right after that, Bryant fired two more shots, one at Melvin and one at Dudley.

Like their colleague, they both immediately died. According to witnesses who were at the scene, following the shooting, Bryant walked toward a fence line next to his home and took his own life. When all was said and done, the whole incident lasted less than a minute. But the aftermath was bloody and stunned the people who were at the property and had been helpless to do anything but watch it unfold. Within minutes of the shooting, a few of the people who were there and gobsmacked at what they'd just seen decided to leave the crime scene and go home. But thankfully, at least one of them ran into town and told Waterville's police chief

would have just happened. But here's where it gets kind of wild. Before authorities could get to the scene, people who normally did business with Bryant were showing up, completely unaware of what they were walking into. The crime scene didn't stay unsecured for long, though, because in short order, the police chief arrived and called in the sheriff and a deputy sheriff from Lassir County, as well as the county coroner and the acting county attorney. Those officials searched the crime scene and found four spent shell casings, one for each of the victims and one for Bryant.

On the day the crime happened, Bryant's wife Esther and their adult son Earl weren't home. They'd been out of town visiting family, but they returned to Waterville that night and discovered what had happened. Esther was reportedly so distraught by the news that she collapsed, and a doctor was brought in to care for her. At some point, after investigators did all they could at the crime scene, they transported the slain wardens and Bryant's bodies to the local morgue. Bryant's accuracy with his firearm and killing all three of the wardens with single shots didn't really surprise anyone. People who knew him said that he was a skilled marksman, always had been since his time in the military.

Basically, if he set his sights on a target, he was going to hit it. And clearly, because the attack on Marcus, Dudley, and Melvin had been blitz-like, none of them really stood a chance. James Keller wrote in his book that since Dudley was the last of the trio to be shot, there was a split second where he tried to turn and run, but he was struck before he could really get far. Bryant's reputation as a good shot wasn't the only characteristic that preceded him. He was originally from St. Paul, Minnesota, but had moved.

to Waterville in 1917. Before arriving there, he'd operated several businesses, including an upholstery shop and a grocery store. People regarded him as a savvy but fair man who was honest, hardworking, and purportedly a dedicated Christian who cared about his community. Not long after moving to Waterville, he set up his fish business on the shores of Sakata Lake. He would lease boats to his own employees or local anglers who would then sell what they caught back to him for three to five cents a town. Folks described him as a physically large man who spent most of his days either dealing with fishermen or transporting fish to distribution depots. Based on what I read in James Keller's book, it seems there were rumors swirling around Bryant that he would bribe game wardens to not look

into his operation too closely. Keller explained that at one point a reporter straight up asked the conservation department's commissioner if those rumors were true. But the commissioner denied the allegations. He admitted that there had been reports of game wardens being propositioned with bribes as far back as 1937, but nothing came of those inquiries. In my opinion, if any of the game wardens that Bryant shot had seen the attack coming, I have to imagine they would have prepared themselves. I mean, Marcus Wipps, like Bryant, had previously served in the Navy. After leaving the service, he'd become a stone quarry worker before eventually serving as a police officer. When he was killed, he'd only been a game

warden for about three years, and Melvin had been a game warden for 14 years. 50-year-old Dudley had worked as a part-time deputy before that and then spent his last 16 or so years as a full-time game warden. According to reporting by the Globe, Dudley's normal area of patrol was in Rock Nobles, but he was regularly asked to assist in other districts. In fact, 12 years earlier, in 1928, he'd been attacked by a gunman while looking into illegal fishing near the Minnesota-Iowa border. He survived that incident, but he did get shot in the arm. His assailant was later convicted and incarcerated, but then released. So I have to think that with all their collective experience, they would have stood a better

chance of surviving had they known that Bryant was going to escalate things so quickly. At the time, gay wardens didn't carry state-sanctioned service weapons, except at night, but it was later determined Marcus had tucked a small revolver into his clothing before going to Bryant's property that evening, you know, just in case the worst were to happen. But obviously he'd been unable to grab it before losing his life. After the shootings, Lucura County's coroner ordered a formal inquest into the matter. A jury of six men reviewed the known facts and testimony in the case

and came to the same conclusion that the coroner already had unofficially come to, which was that the incident was definitely three murders and one suicide. What remained uncertain, though, was just how prolific the illegal fishing racket that had seemingly provoked Bryant was. How could something as simple as being suspected of a fishing violation cause a man like him to act so violently? A second simultaneous investigation conducted by the state attorney general's office which was over the fishing game department

probed into so-called evidence that the three fallen game wardens had been compiling related to illegal commercial fishing in Waterville. More specifically, how Bryant's operation factored into the equation. Two other game wardens who'd been a part of that investigation might have been Bryant's fourth and fifth victims on July 12th if it weren't for them being called to another part of the state that day. By Sunday, July 14th, the state attorney general's investigation

and the coroner's investigation into just how widespread illegal commercial fishing activities in Minnesota were becoming had ratcheted up. But unfortunately, a lot of case-specific information related to what the wardens were working on lived mostly in Marcus Whipp's brain. Coverage by the Globe and Minneapolis Star explained that he and another Game Warden

were actually due to meet with the state's head Game Warden on Monday, July 15th, to reveal some of their most recent findings. Had Marcus not died on Friday evening, he would have made that scheduled meeting. So whatever evidence or information he'd gathered up until that point about the situation in Waterville, died with him. Minnesota's Conservation Commissioner used the murders

as a public example of just how difficult game warden's jobs were becoming and how often bullhead fishing restrictions were being violent. He told the press that in some cases there were even local officials actively working against Game Warden's efforts. The Tuesday after the murders, the divide between the Conservation Commission and fishermen in another Minnesota County grew even wider when anglers stood together in solidarity and swore to begin fishing for bullheads with nets starting on August 15th, which was a direct violation of state law. In response, the Conservation Commissioner said, quote, when you people can show you sincerely want these laws enforced, and when you get ready to help us clean out the racketeers who are robbing your lakes,

we'll talk about opening the season. End quote. He doubled down that despite the fishermen's threats, the state would do everything in its power to strictly monitor and enforce bullhead possession limits. He also emphasized that his office would continue to push for legislation that would allow gay wardens to don uniforms and carry firearms. Again, at that time, neither of those.

things were happening. What's even more tragic is that prior to Dudley, Melvin, and Marcus's murders, the Conservation Commissioner had requested $10,000 of the state's budget to be allocated for uniforms and service weapons. But it wasn't pushed through. It was only after the Waterville shootings that state legislators decided it might be time to really consider giving Game Warden's proper uniforms and guns while on the job. In the aftermath of the crime, some Waterville residents seemed to be okay with the way things had gone down, perhaps even relieved that the falling game wardens would no longer be able to interfere with their fishing operations. Minneapolis star reporter H.V. Sommer wrote an article that candidly explained his experience

trying to report on the story while in Waterville. He claimed that some residents seemed hostile, wouldn't answer questions, and were genuinely uninterested in outsiders like him, coming to town to inquire about the story. Marcus Witts Jr., one of Marcus's sons, later told the Our Tribune that a mob of about a thousand people filed into downtown Waterville after the murders and watched as his family was escorted to the morgue to view his father's body. He said some of the people in that crowd shouted at them and spit on their vehicle saying things like they got what they deserved. However, folks who knew the slain officers certainly didn't feel that way. Marcus was a married father of three who like I mentioned earlier was

super dedicated to his job. His loved ones honored his sacrifice in memory at his funeral, which was held three days after the crime. His widow, Caroline, never recovered, and according to the coverage I read, his death had a long-lasting impact on his entire family. 52-year-old Melvin also left behind a wife and kids. He was buried on Tuesday, July 16th, four days after the murders.

Dudley Brady's siblings and parents laid him to rest as well around that time, but he didn't leave behind a wife or children. Bryant Baumgartner was buried on July 15th in a private service in Waterford. A few weeks after the killings, the coroner in Lassura County told the press that his investigation into the murders was still ongoing, but likely wouldn't wrap up soon. He stated, quote, we are questioning everyone who seems to know anything about the bullhead

business, and when new names turn up, we hunt those people and question them. It's spreading out, and we can't tell yet when or where it will end, end quote. The further away investigators looked from Waterville, the more people. proof they found that illegal bullhead shipments could be traced back to the area, and specifically Bryant Baumgardner. Coverage by the Minneapolis Star explained that near the end of July, game wardens in South Dakota caught three poachers who were connected to illegal fishing, and one of them was directly linked to selling fish to Bryant. On August 4th, nearly a month after the crime, the conservation commissioner held a formal memorial

service for the fallen game wardens. The commissioner and a reverend who'd officiated Dudley's funeral spoke at the ceremony and made it clear that the incident was not only a tragedy but an indicator of just how bad things were getting between citizens and wardens tasked with enforcing fishing game laws. The Reverend said, quote, A certain class of individuals

adopts a selfish attitude toward the use of the nation's natural resources. Until this is stopped and they are made to realize that laws are made for the good of all, the game warden will remain the least understood of all peace officers. End quote.

The conference is a lot of the government. The Conservation Commissioner eventually paid Marcus's wife Caroline and Melvin's wife, Jeanette, $7,500 each in compensation. The money was paid out in increments of $20 per week. Dudley's compensation case was decided later since he wasn't married and didn't have any children. None of the warden's positions were filled right away. That would come a few weeks later. Interestingly, Bryant's son Earl quickly went on to become the head of a commercial fishing association that opposed Minnesota's regulations regarding bullhead catches.

He also applied for the fish dealer license that his late father had held, to, I assume, keep operating the family business. According to James Keller's book, Earl went on to become mayor of Waterville in the early 1980s and eventually died in 1985 at the age of 73. About 10 months after the crime, state conservation officials officially changed protocol and permanently allowed gay wardens to carry firearms at all time.

Their standard issue weapon was a 38 revolver. It wasn't until the early 1960s that the law restricting bullhead harvest was revised and the possession limit was increased from 50 to 100. That didn't seem to slow poacher's activities, though. In 2010, 70 years after the crime, the then-enforcement chief of Minnesota's Department of Natural Resources told Star Tribune reporter Doug Smith that, to date, Marcus, Dudley, and Melvin's murders were considered one of the

worst tragedies to ever befall Minnesota law enforcement. He felt so strongly that their sacrifices should be remembered that he spearheaded an effort and asked Minnesota's Conservation Officers' Association to consider funding a permanent memorial for the trio. About a year later, in June 2011, that effort came to fruition. A bronze plaque dedicated to the game wardens was erected outside Minnesota's DNR office. It's fixed to a small stone column with white stone benches on each side. Part of the inscription reads, This memorial is dedicated to Minnesota Game Wardens, Dudley P. Brady, A. Melvin Holt, and Marcus Emerson Whips, who were killed in the line of duty on July 12, 1940.

These wardens died serving the state of Minnesota and protecting our natural resources. When the memorial was completed, Marcus's son, who was 80 years old in 2011, but nine when his father was killed, told the press that the tragedy ruined his family. and he would have preferred the memorial be located where his dad was from, versus closer to Waterville. He did say, though, he was glad that his father's legacy was finally being honored, but wished it could have happened sooner. Melvin's niece and great-niece attended the memorial ceremony too,

but unfortunately, officials had a hard time tracking down any of Dudley's relatives, likely because he himself didn't have any children. To this day, no one knows for sure what caused Bryant-Bomb Gardner to do this. it might have been the stress of thinking he was going to be busted by the law, or it may have just been a heat-of-the-moment reaction to feeling like he was being unfairly questioned. Well, likely never know. Nowadays, the property where the crime happened looks quite different. The Baumgardner's old home remains, but the barn that held the hundreds of pounds of prized bullheads no longer exists.

New homes and businesses that moved in over the decades have changed the landscape on the western side of Sakata Lake. But the story of the three slaying game wardens who gave their lives trying to protect it will never go away. Park Predators is an audio chuck production. You can view a list of all the source material for this episode on our website, parkpredators.com. And you can also follow Park Predators on Instagram, at Park Predators. I think Chuck would approve.