The corrosive effects of the saltwater environment had done what years of incarceration had not. The concrete around the ventilation openings had weakened. With enough sustained effort, it was possible — not easy, not quick, but possible — to widen those openings.
The tools available to the men were the tools of improvisation. Stolen spoon handles, sharpened against surfaces in ways that prison rules did not specifically prohibit. Discarded saw blades from the prison workshop, removed from their intended disposal and repurposed. And a drill — a device assembled from the motor of a broken vacuum cleaner, combined with other salvaged components, capable of boring into weakened concrete.
The drilling produced noise. Noise in a cellblock is monitored. The solution Morris appears to have contributed was musical: he played the accordion during the period designated as music hour, when inmates were permitted to play instruments in their cells. The accordion’s sound masked the vibration and scraping of the improvised drill working against the concrete.
The holes that resulted from each session of work needed to be concealed between sessions. The men painted cardboard to match the concrete wall color and mounted it over the openings. Guards conducting cell inspections — including the standard twice-daily inspections that were a feature of Alcatraz procedure — saw what appeared to be an intact wall. The deception held for months.
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## The Workshop Above the Cellhouse
As the ventilation openings were widened, the men were able to squeeze through them into the utility corridor behind their cells. That corridor connected to a vertical shaft that ran up to the roof of the cellhouse.