My Life with Bonnie and Clyde (14 page)

Joplin, Missouri, Shoot-out
Scale: 1 in = 85 yd
Based on a contemporary map in the editor’s possession.
1. Garage apartment on 34th, occupied by the Bonnie Parker, Blanche Barrow, W. D. Jones and the Barrow brothers; 2. Main house, corner of Oak Ridge and 34th; 3. The garage where Buck Barrow’s Marmon was parked; 4. West 34th; 5. Oak Ridge Drive; 6. Main Street, escape route

I let out a loud scream and started running down the hill.
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I don’t know if I thought I could outrun the bullets whizzing by me or not. Anyway, I was trying to. Suddenly the dog was beside me. He had followed me downstairs and out into the street. I kept running. The dog stayed up with me. But when I stopped, the dog kept on going. That was the last time I saw our little white dog.
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Buck was standing in the door calling to me to come back. Again, I thought of what I had left in the apartment in my purse. I ran back and
started to go upstairs but Buck grabbed me and took me to the car. He got in with me in the back with W. D. Then Clyde got behind the wheel and stepped on the gas. We seemed to almost jump out of the garage to the street. Not one shot was fired from our car as we left, despite some of the stories told about “the Bloody Barrow Gang.”
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Our Marmon sedan was still in the driveway where Buck had left it when he went to open the garage for Clyde or W. D. All five of us left in Clyde’s Ford V-8 sedan. Clyde was driving and Bonnie was in the front seat with him.
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It wasn’t until after we had driven away that I began to fully realize what a mess Buck and I were in. I think I must have gone insane for a few minutes. I could see all my hopes and dreams tumbling down around me, my dreams of being with my husband who I loved more than anyone or anything in the world, my dreams of having a home with him, of hoping he would always be free so we could be happy together. Now that freedom was gone. After three short weeks, it had been taken away from both of us in only a few minutes. At least two men had been killed and maybe more, I didn’t know. We would be hunted for murder even though we were not guilty. We couldn’t prove it then and may have been hanged for it if we had stayed. But why did we have to run away from something we did not do?

I thought of my dear old dad. What would this do to him when he read about it? I just knew it would kill him because I knew someday all of us would be torn to bits by machine guns, like the man I had seen outside the garage door and the one who lay so still inside, on the floor dead. We would be killed like that.

So this was what I had waited for all those long weary months while Buck had been in prison. I dreaded to think of how it would all end. I wished we had both been killed in the beginning. I would have gladly exchanged places with those who were left dead back there in that awful place. Our worldly troubles would be over. But now they had only just begun.

I knew then that I would not leave Buck. I hoped we would die together when our time came. I began crying and pulling my hair. I still had the deck of cards in my hand. Buck noticed them and almost broke my fingers trying to get them away from me. W. D. was trying to pet me and begging me not to cry. He was suffering himself, but was begging me to not take it so hard. Buck was trying to tell me it hurt him just as bad as it did me, but I couldn’t see how it could.

W. D. asked me to find out just where he was shot. His clothes were so bloody it was hard to tell their real color. And I was almost as bad. My hands were bloody and my dress looked like a red polka-dot print instead of plain blue.

I was so nervous I couldn’t get W. D.’s shirt unbuttoned, so I just tore the buttons off. We found he had been shot through the right side. The bullet had come out just above his lower rib. It looked as though it had gone between the ribs. He had lost a lot of blood. He was getting weak and sick.
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Clyde and Buck were both wounded too. Clyde was hit as he stood in the street after we pushed the police car out of the way, when I saw him stagger. A button on his shirt had checked the bullet and kept it from going very deep in his chest. But he was in pain and losing quite a lot of blood. He said he felt like he would faint, but he wouldn’t let Buck drive.

Buck wasn’t hurt bad. The bullet had only left a bruise above his heart. He was hit just as he was about to run upstairs to tell us we had to leave. He was shot before he got to the doorway on the stairs. He said at first that he thought he had been shot through the heart. He said he once heard that if someone was shot in the heart, they could hold their breath and live long enough to say a few words. He said he meant to come upstairs and tell his baby goodbye before he died. It made me cry all the more. I prayed that he would never have to tell me goodbye. If he had to be killed, then I wanted to die too. I wanted to die first or at the same time as him.

We traveled south over country roads for a while. About five miles outside of Joplin we had a flat. Rain had begun to fall. After the tire was changed, we started driving fast again. The rain and mud made traveling harder.

We found a small country store and gas station, filled with gas and oil, and bought some aspirin for W. D. He had moved up front with Bonnie and Clyde and had wrapped himself up in a blanket that was kept in the car to cover the guns. All of us were cold, especially Bonnie and me. We weren’t wearing much anyway, even if it hadn’t been a cold day.
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We moved around on country roads and over hills and finally drove down a road that came to a dead end at some farmhouse. It was after dark before we found a main road. Then we rode all night. W. D. seemed to be getting weaker all the time, but he did not lose consciousness. We were afraid he would die.

5

Ruston

T
HE NEXT MORNING AT
daybreak, we were in Shamrock, Texas. We were cold, hungry, and sleepy, and W. D. and Clyde had to have medicine for their wounds. We needed to stop some place for a couple hours. We pulled up to a small tourist camp, woke the owner, and got a cabin. It was a dirty place with no running water. But it had a stove, although we would have to wait until seven o’clock before the little grocery store opened nearby.

We got water and heated it. Then we bathed and dressed everybody’s wounds as best we could.
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When the store opened, I was sent to buy food. I had washed the blood from my dress as best I could, but anyone could have looked at me and known something was wrong. The morning was cold. Anyone else would have had on a coat. We were all a sorry sight to see. Still, I tried to act as if nothing was wrong. I looked at the morning papers while I waited for the storekeeper to get the food ready, but I didn’t see anything about the double murders in Joplin.

After we had eaten, Clyde and W. D. tried to sleep. We discussed the battle at Joplin. In fact, that was about all we talked about, that and what we would do next. Bonnie and Clyde said they were very sorry they had gotten us into trouble. But saying they were sorry didn’t do any good. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see those dead men. I told Buck about it. He said he felt the same way but that I should try and forget it. He told me about moving the man inside the garage so Clyde would not drive over him. It was bad enough to kill him without driving the car over his body. So Buck moved the man.
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Soon suspicious cars began driving around the camp and the men inside these cars seemed to be taking too much interest in our cabin. The place seemed to be getting too warm, so we didn’t stay long. We drove out the back way.

We were on the road most of that day, staying off the main highway as much as we could. We couldn’t eat anymore that day and we were too hot to rob anything. At least that’s what Clyde said. He thought we would be safe if we stayed away from large towns. So we parked on a country road about ten or fifteen miles out of Amarillo, Texas, to wait until dark.

When night came, we drove into town. We had to have clothes and money and needed another car. Clyde said he would have to rob something, anything would do. He drove around for about an hour, then parked on a dark street. I hadn’t seen anything worth robbing, but I didn’t know anything about robbery. I wouldn’t have known what to rob anyway. I was like a joke to everybody. I was often teased and laughed at because I was so dumb.

When Clyde parked, he told Buck to walk around with him. I knew they were going to rob some place, even though no one had said as much. Buck kissed me when he got out of the car and asked me not to be nervous. He seemed like he was about to cry. He seemed nervous too. I felt so sorry for him.

I started crying after he left. This would be the first time he had taken a gun and robbed someone since he’d returned to prison. He’d gone back to prison so he could stop running and hiding from the law and be a free man. Now he was facing something worse than before. Life seemed so unkind to us.

I kept watching for them to come back. I didn’t have too long to wait. When I saw them, they were both running. Bonnie started the motor. We opened the car doors and they jumped in. Clyde started driving fast. I kept looking for the cops, expecting them to catch up with us at any moment. I was sure they would learn of the crime the instant it was committed. I don’t remember what they said they robbed.
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I don’t even know if we left there going east, west, north, or south. I didn’t care.

Just before we got off of the highway, we found a place to eat. And did we eat! Then we started traveling on country roads again. The next day we got some clothes. I lost all track of time. We drove so much and so fast, most of the day and night, sleeping only a few hours at a time. One of us always kept watch while the others slept.

We traveled through New Mexico, Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, and Illinois, back through Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Louisiana.
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When the money gave out, something was robbed. I don’t remember sleeping in a bed more than three or four times in the next two weeks.

“He [Jones] walked up to the car, opened the door, and got in as if he owned it.” (Courtesy L. J. Hinton)

Clyde’s and W. D.’s wounds were healing very well, considering the lack of care. Clyde had stolen a medical kit from some doctor’s car some place. The wounds got better treatment after that.

Two weeks to the day after we left Joplin, we were driving through Ruston, Louisiana. Clyde saw a car he wanted and asked W. D. if he wanted to get it. He said he did. Clyde stopped and W. D. went to see if the keys were in it. He walked up to the car, opened the door, and got in as if he owned it. Then he waved his hand to Clyde and drove off, heading down another street that led to the highway.

Clyde waited a few seconds to see if anyone would come out of the house. We saw a man and woman run out and get into a Ford coupe.
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Clyde started
driving. He was sure he could catch up with W. D. but when we got on the highway W. D. was gone! We drove about ten miles but saw nothing that looked like the car W. D. had stolen. Therefore, Clyde turned around and started back to Ruston. He thought that maybe W. D. had stopped somewhere before he got to the highway. We still couldn’t find him. But we met the man and woman in the coupe. They were trying to find W. D. too.

Clyde told W. D. what road to take after he left the main highway and where to stop if he got ahead of us. When we still did not see W. D., Clyde turned the car around again to either look for him or to chase the coupe. They had been chasing us, so Clyde decided to turn the tables.
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We drove over country roads through several small towns. People were standing in the streets, looking. We knew the coupe must be close to W. D. At one point, we could see where he had made a fast turn because the roads were wet in some places. Out in the country, away from the small towns, Clyde would blow the police siren he had on his car. If W. D. had left the car someplace and was waiting in the woods he would know we were looking for him by the way Clyde blew the siren. We thought we were close but we could not catch up with him.

Just outside of yet another small town, we met the man and woman in the coupe. They had given up the chase. Clyde was mad at them for following W. D. He stopped the coupe and asked them about the car they were following. At first, the man said he didn’t know what Clyde was talking about. Clyde jumped out, opened the door to the coupe, and made the man get out. The man said something smart, which made Clyde even madder. He hit the man with the butt of his pistol, hit him between the shoulders, just at the base of his neck. The man went down with the blow and fell on the turtleback of the coupe. Buck and I just sat and looked on.