Father James Allison Alvey
Mother Elizabeth Lamkin

Married Helen Winslow of Chicago, Cook Co, IL in 1902 at Louisville, KY

The New Albany Tribune, Saturday, 1-28-1939; Page 1. Obituaries sbstracted by Dolores Bohn.
ED ALVEY, 70, GAMBLING KING, TAKEN BY DEATH - ONCE OPERATED BOOK ESTABLISHMENT HERE WHEN "HEAT" WAS ON IN KENTUCKY CITY - ALSO FIGURED IN KIDNAPPING. - ED ALVEY, 70, Louisville, Falls Cities "King of Gamblers" and former operator of a racing handbook establishment in New Albany, died Friday night in St. Joseph Infirmary, Louisville. Almost blind, he was moved to the hospital from his home January 16 suffering from an abdominal disorder and diabetes. Widely known in New Albany among the sporting element, Alvey established headquarters in the East End several years ago when things got "too hot" for gamblers in Louisville. It is said millions flowed through his various card and dice games and handbooks. Alvey's wealth, never known, was estimated variously from "broke" to a million. In December, 1923, Detective Chief E. A. Larkin, Louisville, led a raid on what he termed the "biggest handbook headquarters in Louisville." It was Alvey's. By that time Alvey was taking bets from all parts of the United States and some from foreign countries. Detectives got his books and from them learned he had an income in 1922 of more than $63,000. The kidnaping racket, which G-men ruined in recent years, was beginning in 1928 when first victims were gamblers and operators in the "big easy money." In December of that year Alvey was reported kidnaped from his home and held for $50,000 ransom. Two days later he walked into the house saying he had paid no ransom, but that he didn't know where he had been because his abductors had sealed his eyes with tape. He had not been harmed.

COURIER JOURNAL OBITUARY - 01/28/1939
Ed Alvey, 70, of 1719 S 4th, who as dean of Louisville bookmakers, handled millions of dollars in bets during his lifetime, died at 8:30 p.m. Friday at St Joseph's Infirmary where he was admitted two weeks ago suffering from a heart ailment and diabetes. Nearly blind and slightly lame, he had been in declining health for several years. He narrowly escaped death a year ago when stricken with acute appendicitis. During the forty-five years since he arrived in Louisville to set up a saloon card game, Alvey had stuck to the principle that the wise man lets other people lay the bets. At one time he ranked as one of the biggest bookies in the United States, but in recent years his operations had shrunk. A farmer's son, Alvey liked to relate that he made and won his first bet in backing a neighbor's bull in a Hardin Co. Fair event. After being schooled in backroom games at Lebanon, KY., he saved enough money to open the first licensed saloon in Middleboro and a gaming room along with it. Coming to Louisville in 1894, Alvey conducted games in the Galt House, Mathies Cafe and other resorts. At length, he turned to horseraces, betting, bucking the combine-backed Turf Exchange. Bookmaking at that time was legal, but after it was supplanted by the pari-mutuel system, Alvey continued to operate and prosper. Never in his long career did he serve a prison or jail sentence. Not long after he became a bookie, Alvey was sentenced to the penitentiary, but he was pardoned by Gov. J.C.W. Beckham. At other times he narrowly escaped penalties. In 1923 detectives raided the main Alvey office, then located in the Tyler Building. Records were found showing that bets totaling millions of dollars had been taken from all parts of the United States and from foreign countries as well. Alvey was arrested, but the prosecution failed to prove that he, personally, had violated the law. Alvey's narrowest escape from serious trouble was his kidnapping in 1928 when he was forced into an automobile at the point of a pistol in front of his home on the night of December 3. The bookie king was released forty-eight hours later. He was discreetly tight-mouthed about his experience, at first denying that he had paid the $50,000 ransom reported to have been demanded. Later, Alvey indulgently humored detectives by submitting to questioning. He told them that he had paid $500. The word carried by the grapevine, however, was that Alvey had paid $50,000. He had been held captive in an Indian resort, it was understood. The kidnaping was no money-making scheme engineered by Chicago gangsters, it was said. but merely business negotiations in which Alvey was involved. That year, 1928, was an unlucky one for Alvey. His gambling losses, he confided to a friend totaled $300,000. And the next year when banks failed and the stock market collapsed, he took another loss in radio stock. Subsequent years saw a decline in Alvey's power. He continued to operate a string of handbooks, but he no longer was the "Big Shot". As with his cane he tapped along the curbstone line of gamblers gathering at 4th and Walnut for the night's play, he peered through his dark glasses at more and more new faces. He was greeted with respect, but he was becoming more and more a legendary figure. Alvey was a big winner in his time and he also was a big spender. Dozens of friends have told how he paid hospital bills for them. He could be depended upon to open his billfold to the down-and-outer. Lucky he had been providing for the education of an orphaned boy. Alvey's last brush with the law was in Sept. of 1937 when he was arrested on warrents signed by a man who claimed he had lost $2300 in a crooked blackjack game operated by one of Alvey's men, also arrested. The charges were dismissed shortly afterward when the complainant refused to prosecute. Interment in St. Louis Cemetery, Louisville, Ky.