Simultaneously, the six on the back porch sprang into action. Officer James “Gloves” Davis kicked in the front door commando-style, and he, Groth, and the other three officers in his unit burst into the living room, lighting up the inky darkness with a flash of carbine, pistol and shotgun fire. Groth demanded that the occupants open the door, and there were more voices and shuffling inside. “Who’s there?” came a voice from inside the first-floor apartment. Sergeant Daniel Groth pounded on the front door. The remaining three waited outside on the sidewalk.
Five officers ambled up the six stone stairs at the front of the two-flat and entered through the narrow outer hallway, while six moved through the passageway alongside the building and climbed the back stairs. They had no tear-gas canisters, no sound equipment, and no spotlights none were necessary. 38-caliber pistols, one carbine, five shotguns, and one Thompson submachine gun with 110 rounds of ammunition. Parking 50 yards up the street, 14 officers tumbled out, clad in leather jackets and fur hats. Ten minutes later they’d arrived at their destination: an old yellow brick two-flat at 2337 W. The lakefront air was bitterly cold, and the vehicles moved deliberately past the empty lots, gutted warehouses, and walk-ups that dotted the city’s west side like rows of rotting teeth. On Thursday, December 4, 1969, at about 4:30 AM, three unmarked Chicago police cars and a panel truck left the 26th Street office of the Cook County state’s attorney and headed west.