My Life with Bonnie and Clyde (23 page)

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Authors: Blanche Caldwell Barrow,John Neal Phillips

BOOK: My Life with Bonnie and Clyde
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The 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.
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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.
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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)

“Okay,” I said. “If we all get killed here tonight, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I went back to our cabin and told Buck what Clyde said.

“Well, Baby,” he said. “Maybe there isn’t anything wrong. If we have to stay, then we may as well get some sleep while we are here.”

“Well, I have a few things to wash out,” I said. “If the cops don’t come before they get dry, we will have some clean clothes.”
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So, I turned out the big light in the room and turned on a small floor lamp. Then I dressed in pajamas and did my wash. Just as I was finishing up W. D. came in and said Clyde wanted me to go get some sandwiches and beer.

“Tell him it’s too late to go for more food and beer,” I said. “And I’m not going out in my pj’s, and I know I am not going to dress. You should have gotten food earlier if you wanted it. If they are not suspicious of us, they will be. So I’m not going!”

This made Clyde mad. He sent W. D. to another place across the highway from the cabins.
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Soon I turned off the floor lamp and watched outside through the small glass panel of the door and window. I saw cars drive up and stop at the station. I saw people standing by their cars and pointing toward our cabins.

“Baby,” Buck said. “I wish you would come to bed. If anything is going to happen, we can’t stop it until it starts.”

I told him I would come to bed in a few minutes. I watched some more. Everything seemed better. Some of the station lights went out about the
same time they had the night before.
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When I got in bed Buck was asleep. I woke him up and kissed him goodnight. I wasn’t quite asleep, just starting to doze, when someone flashed a light on our window and door. Then someone knocked. I woke Buck and told him there was someone at the door. Then I jumped over the foot of the bed and began putting my clothes on. Buck told me to ask who it was and what they wanted. I did. They told me it was the law.
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Buck began to put his trousers and shoes on. The man at the door told me to send out the man I had in there. I whispered to Buck, asking what to say.

Sheriff Holt Coffey with shield. “Then someone knocked. . . . They told me it was the law.” (Courtesy of Rhea Leen Linder)

“Tell them there isn’t any man in here,” he said. So that’s what I told them.

“Well,” the man said. “Put your trousers on and come out yourself.” I asked again what they wanted, stalling for time. I felt the end was near for all of us. Then he asked where the men were.

Spectators examining the bullet holes on July 20, 1933. “Then the shooting stopped as suddenly as it had started.” (Photograph by William E. Searles, Phillips Collection)

“Tell them the men are in the other cabin,” said Buck. “And shout it loud enough so Clyde can hear you.” So I told them the men were in the other cabin.
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“Well, come on out here yourself,” the man said.

“Wait until I get my clothes on and I will come out,” I said. I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer and I didn’t know what the next move would be. By this time, Buck was at the door. “Baby,” he said. “I sure hate to have to kill him, but it looks like I am going to have to do it. So get back as close to the wall as you can and stay as close behind me as you can.”

Buck grabbed one pistol, a .45, and put it in his belt, then got the rifle from beside the bed.
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Suddenly it seemed as if the men outside were driving a car through the garage door, or trying to knock the cabin door down.
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Then the fireworks started. I don’t know who fired the first shot,
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but I do know Buck shot at the corner of the room instead of through the door where he could have killed anyone in front of it. He had said he didn’t want to kill anyone. Those who were in front of our cabin should be thankful
they were not in front of Clyde’s cabin instead. They would have been dead men because Buck could see their shadows against the window and through the glass panel in the door. He could have killed them if he had wanted too.

Clyde Barrow with a Browning automatic rifle. “I later learned that some of Clyde’s shots had found their mark, passing through the officers’ armored car and wounding one officer.” (Phillips Collection)

After he started shooting, Buck began firing through all the windows, cocking the rifle as he moved from window to window.
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I stayed as close to Buck as I could.
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At one point, he accidentally hit the dresser with the gunstock and broke the mirror to pieces.
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Then the shooting stopped as suddenly as it had started. The car that seemed to be breaking down one
of the garage doors started backing away with its horn screaming. We thought this meant they were calling for more help, but I later learned that some of Clyde’s shots had found their mark, passing through the officers’ armored car and wounding one officer in both knees. Another bullet struck the horn and caused it to blow continually.
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“Are you alright?” Buck called out.

“Yes,” answered Clyde. “Are you both still okay?”

“Yes,” we both said.

“Let’s get away from here!” Clyde said.

I opened the door. I meant to go out first, hoping they would shoot at the first one so Buck would have a chance to get to the car.

“Don’t do that, Baby,” Buck said as I opened the door. “You will get killed. Come back.”

Then we heard the motor of Clyde’s car start.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go. Get the bag by the door.”

I did.

“Maybe we can make it while they are reloading.”

We were outside. I was about halfway to the car when a shot rang out from the station. I turned and screamed. I saw Buck fall and ran back to him.
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I wasn’t afraid anymore. If he were dead, they could shoot all the lead they had into my body. I didn’t fear the bullets.

“They’ve killed Buck!” I shouted to Clyde.
44

Clyde came out and asked where the shot came from. I told him. Then he picked up Buck’s rifle. The barrel was so hot it blistered his hand. It was about all I could do to lift Buck up and get my arm around his waist so I could get him to the car. I lost all feeling. My body was numb. After I got him up, I couldn’t even feel his weight. How I got him to the car alone I’ll never know.
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And I still had the bag in my right hand!
46

I had a little difficulty getting Buck into the car. His head bumped the side of the garage. I tried so hard not to hurt him anymore. I finally got him in the car. W. D. got in beside me. I was in the center. Buck was on my right, W. D. on my left. Clyde got in, stepped on the gas, and backed out of the garage.
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W. D. asked for a gun.
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Buck mumbled that he had dropped his gun and then lost consciousness. I was holding his head as close to my breast as I could, and had both my arms wrapped around him, trying to protect him should the officers shoot into the car, as I was sure they would do. My face was turned toward the right
side of the car and I had my head bent as near Buck as I could. Then a hail of bullets was fired into the right side of the car. I couldn’t protect my face because I was trying to shield Buck as much as I could. Glass broke. Something hard hit the side of my head, just above my temple.
49
It seemed to burn its way across the side of my head. I was also struck in my right arm, though I didn’t feel it at the time. But none of the glass or lead hit Buck.

The Red Crown Tavern and Cabins, Platte City, Missouri; scale: 1 in = 75 ft. Based on drawings by eyewitnesses Kermit “Curley” Crawford and William R. Searles.

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