Bonnie was afraid of the dark, as well as bugs and snakes. I wasn’t afraid of the darkness or the insects, but I was afraid of snakes. We waited. It seemed like hours passed before Clyde, W. D., and Buck came to get us. Then the six of us rode away in the small car. They had meant to get another car but couldn’t find one they could steal.
We hadn’t gone far into the mountains before we began having one flat tire after another. Late that night we stopped near Antlers, Oklahoma, and slept until daybreak. Then we drove within fifteen miles of Durant, Oklahoma, and stayed far back in the woods the rest of the day. Late that afternoon we got back on the highway and went to a tourist camp where we had stayed once before. We got a double cabin and stayed there that night. The next day a larger car was stolen and the roadster was left behind. They couldn’t keep two cars. Buck could not drive because of his hand and Clyde always wanted W. D. to be in the car with him.
12
Platte City
Editor’s note: July 1933
During July, the Barrow gang engaged a number of Missouri officers in a vicious gun battle near Platte City, Missouri. The gang escaped but Blanche and Buck Barrow were both wounded. Five days later, the gang was discovered hiding near an abandoned amusement park near Dexter, Iowa. A gunfight ensued. Clyde Barrow, Bonnie Parker, and W. D. Jones, all wounded, escaped. Buck Barrow was wounded again and captured, along with Blanche, later in the morning. On July 29, Buck Barrow died in a Perry, Iowa, hospital. His wife was extradited to Missouri to face a charge of assault with intent to kill.1
Apart from this, most of the month’s headlines focused on aviation news. On July 9, Amelia Earhart set a new record for U.S. transcontinental flight. Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh were reportedly mapping new aerial routes over Labrador and Greenland. And on July 23, the day before the shoot-out near Dexter, Iowa, Wiley Post completed the first solo flight around the world. That same day, in a statement to Dallas County Sheriff Richard Allen “Smoot” Schmid, Cumie Barrow said of her sons, Clyde and Buck, “They’re living on borrowed time. You know that as well as I do.”2
In Joplin, Missouri, Hollis Hale, an accomplice of Clyde Barrow, confessed to helping Barrow and Frank Hardy rob a bank at Oronogo, Missouri, on November 30, 1932. In addition, in July, two hurricanes struck the Texas coast, cotton prices rose steadily, and one of the most visible and powerful couples in Hollywood, Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks, divorced.3
Billie Parker Mace. “Clyde wanted to send Billie back home, but she didn’t want to go.” (Courtesy of the Texas/Dallas Archives Division, Dallas Public Library)
AFTER LEAVING THE CAMP near Durant, we started driving again, going no place in particular. When money was needed, some small place was robbed. When a car was needed, one was stolen. When guns and ammunition were needed, some armory was burglarized at night. We roamed over many states, leaving a trail of horror behind us, terrorizing those Clyde came in contact with and needed something from.
Bonnie was getting much better now and Clyde wanted to send Billie back home, but she didn’t want to go. She and W. D. had become sweethearts not long after Clyde brought her to Fort Smith.
On the Fourth of July, we were in Pueblo, Colorado. We had spent the previous day, July 3, in the mountains near there. Afterward, we drove to Denison, Texas, and Billie went home.4 Clyde had enough money to buy her a new outfit and to pay for her fare home. But she didn’t want to take a bus or train so we drove to Denison and she caught the Interurban there.5
W. D. Jones. “She [Billie] and W. D. had become sweethearts.” (Courtesy of L. J. Hinton)
From Denison we started driving in circles again. It seemed as though we always drove in circles through many states—Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Nebraska, South Dakota, Minnesota, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky, Tennessee, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas, Kansas, Iowa, and back to Missouri.6
Some few days or weeks after we left Fort Smith, we stopped at a tourist camp about thirty-five miles from Enid, Oklahoma.7 One afternoon, Clyde and Buck drove away saying they would be back late that night. I later found out they drove to Enid and burglarized an armory there.8 But at that time, I didn’t know where they had gone. They returned at about four o’clock in the morning with more guns and ammunition than I had ever seen at one time in my whole life.9 They also had several pairs of field glasses. They said we needed the glasses to scan roads to see if they are blocked so we don’t drive into a trap. And they could be used at night when the moon shone bright and one of us was on watch. We could see at great distances with them, leaving plenty of time to wake the rest before anyone got near enough to recognize us.
“I used to sit on top of the car because I could get a better view of the surroundings.” (Photograph by Buck Barrow, courtesy of Rhea Leen Linder)
I spent many nights with a pair of field glasses to my eyes, watching while the others slept. Clyde used to say that was about all I was good for, staying awake and watching. He could depend on me to stay awake no matter how sleepy I got. Often I would have to wash my face and eyes with rubbing alcohol to keep me awake.10
I used to sit on top of the car because I could get a better view of our surroundings. If I saw nothing suspicious I would look at the moon and stars through the field glasses. Sometimes I would sit in one position so long my feet and legs would go to sleep and I would have to get down and walk around the car several times.
While we were at the camp in Oklahoma, I found an old newspaper in the ladies washroom. In it I read about the shooting near Fort Smith, Arkansas, the one Buck and W. D. were involved in. It said one officer by the name of H. D. Humphrey of Alma, Arkansas, had died from shotgun wounds fired at him by the Barrow brothers and that the next morning a woman had been assaulted and beaten and that her car was then taken by the same men. I knew that last part couldn’t be true because we left the area the very same afternoon11 that Buck and W. D. had had the wreck and gun battle. Anyway, I asked Buck if he did anything like that.
Marshal Henry D. Humphrey. “[The newspaper] said one officer by the name of H. D. Humphrey of Alma, Arkansas, had died from shotgun wounds.” (Courtesy of James R. Knight)
“No, Baby,” he said. “You know I couldn’t do anything like that. And anyway, that says the woman was beaten the next day, after we left Fort Smith.”
This was true and I don’t believe he beat any woman. He wasn’t like that.12
On the night of July 18, we were tired.13 We had been driving all day, in fact many days and nights, without sleep. Surely, we could find a place where we could get one good night’s rest without being disturbed. So we began looking for a camp. We drove until about eleven o’clock that night. We could see the lights of Kansas City.
“That’s Kansas City, isn’t it?” Buck asked Clyde. They had been arguing again and Buck had been trying to get a car most all day so we could leave them. This time we would leave them for good. Clyde was too much of a dirty rat. His own brother couldn’t stay with him or get along with him without fighting two-thirds of the time. So, when Buck asked if it was Kansas City, Clyde said, “Sure, boy. This is a big town. Aren’t you afraid we will meet some cops? They probably know we are this near.”14
Just because Buck wanted to be careful, Clyde tried to make it appear that he thought Buck was just afraid.
“No. I am not afraid of meeting any cops,” said Buck. “But I do know Kansas City is one of the hottest towns for people like us to stop near in the middle west.15 What if we’re near Kansas City at a camp and the cops come in looking for someone else, drunks, or car thieves? Anyone besides us could get a place hot. And we would run right into their heat without knowing it until we got into it.16 Then we would have to shoot our way out.
“We may stop near Kansas City, but of course you haven’t enough brains left to use. You had rather make someone think you are tough. Take all your guns away from you and you would throw up your hands and beg like a baby because you can’t make it unless you have enough guns behin
d you to supply a whole army. And you will squeal on your mother if you thought it would keep you from prison or getting your neck broke. But I am not going to stay with you any longer than it takes to get a car so Blanche and I can leave you. We don’t have to put up with it. We can live a lot longer away from you than we can with you.
“Luck has been with you so far. You haven’t escaped just because you are smart or because you used your head. If you had used your head, you would not have had so many murders on your hands. Well, I will never have so many on mine. You can kill and not give anyone a chance, but someday you will meet someone that won’t give you a chance to fire a shot.”
They stopped the arguing.
We passed a place that had two brick cabins. Clyde said, “This is where we stay the rest of the night, even if we all get killed before morning.” No one said anything.17
We drove a short distance from the camp, turned down a side road, and covered everything up so none of the guns could be seen by anyone close enough to look in the car. Buck whispered to me that we would do as they wanted that night. Then, when we left the cabins to get another car, we would get away from them forever.
Clyde and Buck were not speaking to each other, but when Clyde said some of us would have to get covered up and hide in the back of the car, Buck and W. D. got beneath some quilts and blankets.18 I moved to the front seat with Clyde and Bonnie so I would be seen when the cabin was rented because I would have to buy food from the cafe at the filling station. Then we drove to the Red Crown Filling Station and Cabin Camp. Clyde rented both cabins. They had closed garages between them. Clyde drove into one of the garages and parked.19
The Red Crown Cabins, near Platte City, Missouri. “They had closed garages between them. Clyde drove into one of the garages and parked.” (Photograph by William E. Searles, Phillips Collection)
After we got settled in our cabins, they wanted something to eat. So I was sent to the station for food and beer. I was given nothing but small change to pay for the food. They ordered so much food that I told them the owner would know there were more than three of us.
“Oh, they won’t think anything,” Clyde said. “Just get the food. We are hungry. Bring back some chicken if they have any.”
When I started back with the food, the owner said he would go with me. He said he had to get our car license. It was funny he hadn’t taken the number when we pulled in and rented the cabins. Anyway, I couldn’t refuse to let him in the garage because most all tourist cabin people had to register.20
When we got to the cabin, I called for someone to open the door. Clyde opened it. I told him the man wanted the car license number. With that, the man started to go in the cabin, but Clyde told him he would open the garage door for him, adding that he couldn’t go through the cabin because his wife was undressed.
After we had eaten, Buck and I went to the other cabin, the one nearest the station.21 We took a small handbag with us, along with one rifle, several .45-caliber automatic pistols,22 and a number of ammunition clips, all of which were wrapped in a blanket. The next morning, July 19, we slept late. When we got up, Buck sent me to Clyde’s cabin to see if they wanted anything from the station. Buck didn’t go to their cabin at all. He didn’t want to argue anymore with Clyde. He also told me to ask how soon they would be ready to leave.
They wanted more chicken and beer. When I asked about leaving, they said they wanted to stay another day and night. Again, they gave me small change to pay for the food. Clyde told me to see how the people acted and what I thought about them, if I thought it would be safe to stay there another night.
When I went to pay the four dollars for another night at the cabins, the owner told me I wouldn’t have to pay up until four o’clock. But I paid him anyway. He told me if we changed our minds and decided to leave before four o’clock, I could have the money back. He didn’t act just right to me. I told Clyde I thought he was either an officer of some kind or else he was the type that might tell the law we were there if he had the slightest suspicion about us. I didn’t feel that we were safe to stay another night, but Clyde said it was just my imagination, that everything would be all right. So I said no more.
That afternoon I had to get more chicken dinners, using small change.23 I learned that the man who had taken our license number had gone to Platte City. Of course, there wasn’t anything wrong about him going to town, but somehow I felt he was checking up on us.24 I told the others what I thought.
Late that afternoon Clyde and W. D. went to Platte City to buy medicine for Bonnie.25 They left her in the cabin alone but asked me if I would sit in the swing near the cabin while they were gone. Buck sat inside our cabin with the window shade about half up. We didn’t keep them down during the day, only at night when the lights were on. But I noticed the shades in Clyde’s cabin were all drawn and had sheets of newspaper pinned to them. That was enough to make anyone get suspicious of them.26
Buck and I talked of what we would do when we got away from them. We could find someplace away from all this. Then Buck asked me how I would like to go to Canada. He said we could get a cabin someplace in the mountains, or in the forest, and trap that winter if we were lucky enough to live that long. I said that would be okay by me, anything to get away from all this.
That night Buck was shining my boots. I had been thinking of something I did not like to mention. I had promised him once before that I wouldn’t bring it up, that I hoped I would be killed first because I didn’t think I could live if he was killed. If I were not killed with him, I would have to commit that unpardonable sin, suicide. I would not want to live after he was gone. I was thinking about that because I believed there would be a battle that very night. Everyone at the station was acting funny, especially the way they all looked at me when I entered the place.
“Daddy,” I said. “If I should be killed what would you do with me?”
“Why, Baby,” Buck said. “You should know I would take you home if I was alive and able to drive a car. I would get you home some way.”
“No, Daddy,” I said. “I don’t want you to take that chance. I want you to leave me someplace where my body would be found after you are gone. You would probably be killed trying to get me home. So just leave me someplace. It doesn’t matter. Just so you don’t get killed.”
“Baby,” Buck said. “You know I couldn’t leave you any old place, because we want to be buried side by side when we die, no matter which one dies first. Let’s don’t talk about it. It hurts too bad, because I couldn’t live without you and I don’t like to think of losing you.
“But promise me you will never commit suicide, no matter what happens.27 That’s something God will not forgive us for. And as long as there’s life, there’s hope. I will never kill myself and I don’t want you too. What would you do with me if I should be killed first?”
“Dad,” I said. “I would take you home or stay with you until I am taken away from you. I could take you home easier than you could me. If I get caught they can’t give me more than life in prison for staying with you. I haven’t committed any crime unless loving you and staying with you until death parts us is a crime. And I’ll stay with you, even if I am shot down or hanged afterward. I’ll stay if I am alive, until the officers take me away from you, or take you from me.”
And the subject was dropped.
Soon Buck climbed into bed. I went to the station to get some toilet soap and fresh towels. Before I entered the station, I noticed everyone in the place was doing a lot of talking. I could hear them and see several of them sitting around a table. But when I walked in everyone stopped talking. The place was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. It was just as quiet as a death chamber. I knew something must be wrong. The girl who waited on me stood and stared at me for a few seconds, as if she had seen a ghost.28 And when she did speak, she seemed to be extra polite. I told her what I wanted.
“Yes, deary,” she said. “I’ll get them. Is there anything else you need?”
T
he Red Crown Tavern. “When I walked in everyone stopped talking.” (Photograph by William E. Searles, Phillips Collection)
While she was gone, I stepped on a pair of scales and dropped a penny in them. Some young fellow walked up close to me and looked to see how much I weighed. He tried to start a conversation with me. He said something about how small I was, tipping the scales at ninety-one pounds, and how I was dressed in riding boots, trousers, and a shirt. Soon the girl came back and handed me the fresh towels. Everyone acted as though I might pull out a machine gun and turn it on them at any minute. As soon as I stepped outside, the talking started again but I couldn’t understand anything that was said.29
Every time I left the cabin, Buck would watch me. Clyde did the same thing. When I went out their rifles were almost always in their hands, or nearby in case someone grabbed me.30 They would have come out fighting and taken me back. I always hoped it would never happen because they told me they would either get me back or die fighting, even though they were fighting amongst themselves. If they got into a tight place they would usually fight for each other. At least I knew Buck would. I had known Clyde to leave his pals, even Bonnie, when he saw a way out for himself.
I told Buck how everyone acted when I went to the station. I thought we should leave then, before it was too late. He said if we had a car we would have left earlier in the day. He said to go tell Clyde and see what he thought. I did, but he thought we would be safe until morning.
Slim’s Castle. “[Clyde] sent W. D. to another place across the highway from the cabins.” (Photograph by Kermit “Curley” Crawford, Phillips Collection)
My Life with Bonnie and Clyde Page 15