My Life with Bonnie and Clyde (8 page)

On March 22, the day Buck Barrow was released from the Texas penitentiary in Huntsville, President Roosevelt signed a measure rushed through Congress in just ten days legalizing the manufacture and sale of 3.2 percent beer. Prohibition was rapidly crumbling. In addition, on that date baseball great Babe Ruth signed an unprecedented $52,000 contract with the New York Yankees, and in Dallas, Texas, a jobless man killed his wife and then committed suicide. Within hours of the Denison, Texas, reunion of Blanche Barrow and her husband, Adolph Hitler was declared dictator of Germany, Japan's conflict with China deepened, and an
Oklahoma state bank examiner was shot to death by a bank president in Headrick, Oklahoma
.
11

I
T WAS THE AFTERNOON
of March 23, 1933, almost closing time in the beauty shop where I was working.
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I had no customers so I decided to walk to the post office, just a few blocks away, to see if there was any mail from Buck. I had not received a letter from him in several days. I was worried about him. I was afraid something terrible had happened to him or that he may be seriously ill. I could always think of so many terrible things when I did not hear from him on my regular letter day, the day I usually received mail from Buck.

I had walked a couple of blocks when a Western Union boy passed me on a bike. Something caused me to turn my head for a second. I saw him turn down the street were I worked. I had a feeling he would stop at the shop. Maybe he would have some news from Buck. I was sure it would be bad news if he did. A telegram could only mean one thing to me, very bad news from Buck, or my mother, or father. Of course, it might have meant Buck was coming home, but I had just about given up all hope of getting him paroled.

I walked on toward the post office, taking in long deep breaths of the cool crisp air. Each breath had the hint of early spring in it and felt so fresh and clean it seemed to give me new strength and courage after a busy day in the warm shop. I could not see whether the boy had stopped at the shop because I had turned onto another street a block away. Nevertheless, as I walked on I thought about that boy. I tried to make myself believe there was nothing wrong with Buck and that there would be a letter at the post office from him telling me he was okay. Anyway, why should I think anything about seeing a Western Union boy passing me on the street? I saw them pass the shop quite often every day and thought nothing of it. So why should this be any different from any other time? I tried to dismiss the thought.

There was no letter for me at the post office. I told myself that surely there would be one tomorrow and then I walked out slowly. On my way back to the shop I was deep in thought, daydreaming of how wonderful it would be to have Buck walking beside me, enjoying the pleasure of breathing the fresh clean air, which I was sure he never experienced behind those gray prison walls. When I got within a block of the shop, I almost bumped into someone. I started to apologize and only then realized it was the lady
I was working for.
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She was all smiles and seemed to notice my embarrassment at having nearly bumped into her on the street. Someone else might have told me to watch my step, but not her. She had always been so kind and sweet to me. She just started laughing. Soon we both were laughing. She asked if I had any mail for her. I told her no and then noticed she seemed to be more than her usually happy self. I asked why she seemed so gay and why she had come to meet me.

“I have something for you that will make you very happy,” she said, handing me a telegram. “He's coming home!”

I read it, but for a minute I could not speak. It was true. Buck was coming home to me. I felt as if I were going to laugh and cry all at the same time. I was so overcome with joy. I grabbed her and did a little dance around with her right there on the sidewalk. I know that people passing us, if anyone did, must have thought me crazy. But I was so filled with happiness I did not care what anyone thought. I could have shouted to the whole world that this was the happiest day of my life! Little did I know then, however, that the unhappiest day of my life would come in just a few short months. For the moment, though, I was happy.

I could hardly believe it was true, that Buck was free. Now all our plans and dreams would come true, plans of living like other normal people and of having our own home. It was too good to be true. There would be no more worries and sleepless nights caused by the fear that officers of the law would come to take Buck away from me and put him in a cold prison cell. There would be no more running away or being hunted like a fox by a pack of hounds. But I still had a lot to learn about being the wife of an ex-convict. After being in prison, one is never free to live the life of any normal person without officers of the law knowing their every move, reminding them that they once broke the law and are expected to do so again sooner or later.
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I looked at the telegram. It read: “Baby, I'll be home to you as soon as I can get there.” God only knows what those words meant to me after waiting fifteen long, weary months. Only a few would understand, only those who have ever received word from some imprisoned loved one saying they are coming home.
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I wondered how long Buck would have to wait before he could catch a bus and come home to me. I could hardly wait to see him.

That night I phoned the bus station and asked what time the next bus from Houston, Texas, would arrive. I was told the bus would get in around ten o'clock, and that another bus would arrive at nine the next
morning. I didn't think Buck would be on the ten o'clock bus. I didn't think he would have had time to catch that one. I thought he'd arrive the next morning.
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I went to bed between eleven and twelve o'clock, but I could not sleep. I was too happy. Nevertheless, I wanted to go to sleep as soon as I could so the hours would not drag by. I was like some excited child on the night before Christmas, waiting to see what Santa would bring. It seemed that if I could just go to sleep, the morning would come much sooner than lying awake waiting. I soon fell asleep.

When I awoke, something was going on. The room was still dark and someone was holding me, kissing my lips and eyes, and saying, “Baby, wake up.” My first words were “Daddy, is it really you, or am I still dreaming?” It was Buck.

Buck had lost no time once he sent that telegram. He arrived in Dallas at midnight, called a taxicab, and went to his mother's place. There he took off his prison-issue suit and put on his old suit, the one he wore the day he gave himself up to Warden Waid. I'd had it cleaned and pressed as soon as I returned from Huntsville, and then I packed it away for him.

After borrowing a car from his oldest brother, who also lived in Dallas, Buck along with his kid brother LC started driving north to Denison, Texas, where I was.
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About two or two-thirty
A.M
. Buck woke me.

The next morning we packed my trunk and bags, loaded them in the car, and left for Dallas. It was about ten o'clock. On our way out of town, we noticed a car with two men following us. I did not recognize them, but I knew they were police officers.

Our car had been driven hard the night before and needed oil and water. We had just driven into a service station when the car that was following us whipped around and parked right in front of us. The two men jumped out with drawn shotguns. They told us to get our hands up. We did as we were told, but I wondered why they were doing this to us.

Buck and I were still in the car. LC had gotten out and was putting water in the car. The smaller of the two officers opened the door on the driver's side of our car and told Buck to get out. He did. The officer asked Buck if he and I were Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker.

“No!” we said as quick as we could, but they did not seem to believe us. They took Buck and LC and began shaking them down and asking how many machine guns we had in the back of the car. We did not have any guns and we told them so. We said that if they wished they could look for
themselves. LC did not seem to mind the shakedown. He just went about his business, putting water in the car while the officer was searching him. LC acted as though the officer wasn't there. He had gotten so used to being arrested because of Clyde, it was nothing new to him.
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Buck was trying to tell the officers that he was not Clyde, but Clyde's older brother and that he had just received a pardon the day before. He showed the officer his release papers and told him he had come after me, his wife. Then the officer looked at me closely. He seemed to recognize me, although I did not recognize him. He asked if I had ever seen him before. I told him no. He said he had seen me quite often. He knew who I was and where I worked. Then he asked me if I could drive a car. I told him I could drive, but that I wasn't sure whether or not I could drive this wreck. But I said I would try. He said he would have to take the boys to the station to check up on them and ask them a few questions. I did not think I had anything to worry about. However, I knew that these were Clyde's brothers and that Buck had just gotten out of prison, so I wasn't completely sure what the police might do to them.

After putting Buck and LC in his car, the officer told me to follow. I did, although the car was in bad shape and I had never driven it before. It was quite a task for me to get used to it and for me to keep up with the officer's car. I wasn't sure where the police station was and frankly wasn't very thrilled about finding out. Still, I managed to stay close enough to their car to see where they were going and where they stopped.

When the officers stopped, I drove up beside them. They told me to drive farther down the street and I would find a place to park. One of the officers told me to stay there until he came back. I did as I was told.

I was wearing a new spring outfit. It was a golden yellow and white, with white gloves to match. When I parked and took my hands off the steering wheel, I noticed I had ruined my new white gloves. There was grease on the wheel and it turned my gloves black. Then I looked down at my white pumps. They were spotted with grease from the brakes. I wasn't very pleased about that. A mechanic had been driving the car and left grease on the steering wheel and brakes.

I waited. After an hour or so, which seemed like several hours to me, one of the officers came to the car. He seemed to want to search the car for guns. He asked me if all the luggage in the car belonged to me. I told him he could look if he wished, but I assured him he would have to help me repack everything.

He was very nice to me and seemed sorry that he had doubted us. He told me I had nothing to worry about, that the boys would be back in a short time. He did not open any of the luggage, but kidded me about having so much of it.

“A woman could always manage to have a lot of baggage when she got ready to move,” the officer said, laughing. Then he said, “Mrs. Barrow, I suppose this is quite embarrassing to you.”

I told him it was and that I hoped it would never happen to me again. Officers of the law before had never doubted me and I had always been respected as a lady. Naturally, being stopped by the law and taken to the police station [in a town] where most everyone knew me and where I worked was embarrassing and would cause the people for whom I worked more embarrassment.

“I hate that this had to happen here, in this small town, more because of them than for myself,” I said.

I wondered how often something like this would happen to us. I prayed it would never happen again. I hoped that we could do as we had planned when Buck gave himself up and returned to prison, meaning that after he'd served the remainder of his four-year sentence (of which he had only served three months
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before escaping) we could begin again and live our lives like normal people.

Before the officer came to the car, I prayed, “Oh God, don't let them take him away from me again.” Was my happiness to be so short-lived? But as soon as the officer came to the car, he told me the boys would be back soon. Then I saw Buck and LC coming toward the car. They got in. The officer wished us luck and we drove away. I was happy once more.

Buck and LC told me the officers had seen them drive into town the night before and had been watching the car and the house, mainly because the car was from Dallas and was strange to them. They thought they might see Clyde at any time. They were always on the lookout for him. Buck and I were glad to get home to his mother's house and she was so happy to see him. She had only been able to say hello to him briefly the night before because he was in such a hurry to see me. He did not have time to talk to his mother or anyone else. I think that is why Mrs. Barrow and most of the family were so jealous of me, because Buck loved me so much. I think they felt as if I had stolen him and his love away from them. I did not want them to feel that way. Their love was far different from mine, although I believed my love was stronger than any of theirs, even his mother's
love. If it was ever necessary, I knew that I would go further and suffer more for Buck than anyone in his family. But they could not understand why Buck loved me, his wife, more than them. Buck loved his mother, father, brothers, and sisters as dearly as anyone could. He was very dedicated to his family, but I came first. He told me he would give them all up, if I wanted him to. But I would never have asked that much of him. I scolded him for suggesting such a thing, especially for the sake of his mother. I was happy just to be with him and to know he loved me. I could not have asked for more from life.

No matter how poor Buck and I may be or how hard we would have to work I was happy just to have our freedom. I would have been willing to do any kind of honest work, anything to be free and with Buck. That was all that mattered to me. But Buck never wanted me to work and would not think of letting me while he was free. He seemed to feel that he would always be with me, to protect me from any harm or hard work.
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He never thought that some day he may have to leave me alone in the world to take care of myself the best I could. But I have been capable of working and making a good honest living for my disabled father and myself since I was fifteen years old.
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So that never worried me.