Go Down Together: The True, Untold Story of Bonnie and Clyde
This month I’ve been looking at true crime, from the wrongfully accused to a justifiable homicide and this week’s book, looks at those that media made famous, making this weeks book Go Down Together: The True, Untold Story of Bonnie and Clyde by Jeff Guinn.
Now, Bonnie and Clyde have been highly romanticized and just when their initial fame sets to end, a movie or show comes out that flames interest in their story again. But this book shoots to be as historically accurate as possible, pulling from some pretty solid primary sources, namely diaries and unpublished memoirs of family members. Why not newspapers? Well, then as now, the press tended to glamorize what would sell papers. Worse back then, as the height of the depression meant there wasn’t a lot of money available to buy papers, so if papers wanted to sell, they couldn’t just report the news, they had to sell a story. And Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker were like a modern day Robin Hood and Maid Marion. At first. We’ll come back to that.
Let’s introduce the two main characters. Clyde Chestnut Barrow was born March 24, 1909 or 1910, in Telico, TX. Record keeping was not awesome back then, especially as home birth was still very much the norm. Guinn puts his birth as 1910, because that is the date that Cumie Barrow put in the family bible, and she was a good, Christian woman, who regularly attended church and insisted all her children attend as well. This habit, despite his future criminal enterprises, would stay with Clyde his whole life, and while he stopped going to church around the time he started stealing cars, he never stopped praying, and would say his nightly prayers, or would pray before pulling a job of if he just suspected something was amiss and “the laws” were about and about to catch him.
Clyde was the 5th of seven children born to the Barrows, and the family was close knit all their lives, even with Clyde on the run for the last five years of it, he and Bonnie would make frequent trips back to West Dallas to meet with their families.
The Barrow family were sharecroppers, and dirt poor all their lives, even with the money to be made feeding Europe under Herbert Hoover’s humanitarian plans during and in the immediate aftermath of World War I. By the time the depression of the 1920’s hit, it was obvious sharecropping was out, and the family packed up and moved to the slums of West Dallas. There, family patriarch Henry Barrow became a junk man, using the family wagon and horse to scrounge up scrap metal and turn it in for mere coins, slowly saving supplies to build the family a shack, which would eventually become a gas station in West Dallas on then Eagle Ford Rd.
When he was a teenager, Clyde began stealing cars, which was easy to do and quite lucrative, and played to his strengths as a driver. 100 years later and Clyde could have made one hell of a living as a stunt driver in Hollywood, he was that good. But in 1920’s West Dallas, he quickly became one of the county sheriff’s favorite suspects, and they would routinely pick Clyde up on suspicion. Suspicion of what? Well, whatever crime needed solving that day. This made it very hard for Clyde to maintain steady employment, especially in 1929 after the Great Depression started, and workers in desperate need of work were a dime a dozen. There was no earthly reason for employers to hold a spot for Clyde while he worked out whatever the laws thought he had done.
Bonnie Parker was born October 1, 1910 in Rowena, TX and was the middle child, with an older brother and a younger sister. Bonnie’s family was also close knit and eventually the Barrows and Parkers, through joint commiseration, would become quite close. Bonnie was very petite, topping out at 4’11” tall and weighed no more than 90 pounds, which suited Clyde quite well, as his height has been recorded as anywhere from 5’4” to 5’6” tall. Bonnie was beautiful. And vivacious. Everyone who met her fell under her spell. Even when she was seriously injured as the result of a car accident caused by Clyde’s reckless driving, the farmers that Clyde coerced into assisting them were drawn to her and smitten in her unconscious state. If she had actually followed her dreams to Los Angeles, we might all know Bonnie Parker as a famous actress, rather than as part of an outlaw duo.
The Parker’s moved to Cement City, another suburb of Dallas, in 1914 when the Parker patriarch died. Bonnie was enrolled in public school and was so beautiful and endearing that no matter what she did, she never got in trouble for it. When she was 15 she met and married Roy Thornton, despite her mothers protests, on September 25, 1926. The marriage did not last as Thornton was also a petty criminal and he vanished not too long after they married, and was out of the picture permanently by January 1929. Bonnie needed to make money since her husband was in the wind, and became a waitress and POSSIBLY a prostitute. This is pure speculation and the author names it as such. Even if she did not engage in selling of her self, Bonnie certainly knew the local prostitutes, as evidenced by a poem she wrote while in prison, The Prostitutes’ Convention, highlighting the various streetwalkers to be found in Dallas.
From January 1929 to January 1930 Bonnie worked as a waitress, since she had to contribute something to the household finances. And in January 1930, while visiting her brother Buster and his new bride at a house party, the brides brother Clarence Clay brought along a friend, one Clyde Barrow. And for all intents and purposes, it was love at first sight for both parties. They dated for a month and then in February 1930, Clyde was arrested by Dallas Police for car theft. He went quietly because he thought the arrest was just for suspicion, but Bonnie became hysterical. She had a dramatic flair, and the author speculates that if she hadn’t been wailing so much, Clyde might have heard the officers say they were just making the initial arrest for another requesting agency, and he might have put up more of a fight.
As it is, he was arrested and taken to Dallas County jail, and Bonnie immediately began visiting. She also reached out to the Barrows and introduced herself, and while Cumie was not initially impressed, Bonnie would grow on the family enough that the Barrows would attend her funeral. Clyde was eventually taken to Denton, TX where he was convicted for car theft and possession of stolen goods, and was sentenced to 7 concurrent two year sentences at Eastham Prison. Now…this was an absolute gift. With how incredibly overcrowded the prison was, and the sentences being concurrent, there’s a very good chance he’d have been paroled in no time. But, Clyde being Clyde and not wanting anyone else to be in charge of him, engineered an escape with Bonnie’s assistance, when she smuggled a gun into him at the jail in Waco where he was awaiting transport to Eastham Prison.
After a brief time on the run, Clyde was captured, and the judge was so incensed, that he changed the sentence from concurrent to consecutive, meaning instead of 2 years, Clyde now faced 14. And since this was a long-term prison sentence, his work assignment was to the farm at the prison, which was as hard as hard time can get. While in prison, Clyde was raped many times by one of the prison trustees, basically inmates given free reign over the other inmates to assist the wardens and jailers with maintaining order. Clyde eventually killed his abuser, because another inmate who was serving a life sentence and would never get out, told him if you kill the guy, I’ll take the blame. And he did, and while prison was no more pleasant, at least he wasn’t being raped nightly anymore. Eventually, Clyde couldn’t take the hard labor on the farm and on January 27, 1932 he had an ”accident” wherein he cut off two of his toes. Only a severe injury like amputation would get him pulled from the farm and moved inside the prison itself. His timing couldn’t have been more awful, as on February 2 1932 he received word that his mother had secured a pardon for him from then Governor of Texas Ross S. Sterling.
While he had been away is when the Barrows moved the family shack to Eagle Ford Road, and Clyde was determined to go straight and never go to prison again. Between the rape, the general abuse by guards, and the self-inflicted amputation, prison had served it’s intended deterrent effect. Sort of. Clyde would not go back to prison. But the Dallas Police would not give up their harassment of him. And while he planned to go straight, because the police kept arresting him, he couldn’t hold a job in depression era America. And he needed job to purchase the supplies needed to offer vehicle service at the family gas station. And so Clyde returned to small time robbery and motor vehicle theft, and this time, Bonnie went with him. It was during this initial crime spree that Bonnie would be arrested, and she was ultimately let go after claiming she had been held captive and forced to participate.
Now, the Barrow gang was ALWAYS led by Clyde. They were referred to as Clyde & Bonnie up until the 1967 movie put out by Warren Beaty, starring Beaty and Faye Dunaway. At various points the gang would have other members, William Daniel “W.D.” Jones, Raymond Hamilton, Ralph Fults, Henry Methvin, and of course, Buck Barrow, the older brother of Clyde, and Buck’s wife, Blanche Barrow.
W.D Jones was a family friend of the Barrow’s and was of an age with Clyde’s younger brother, L.C., and Jones WANTED to join the Barrows on the run. Until it was no longer fun and became down right terrifying following the shootout that led to the death of Buck and capture of Blanche. At which point W.D. left the gang and moved to Houston. He was eventually caught there and served prison time.
Buck and Blanche were tragic. Blanche was the daughter of a minister, and Buck, who had served prison time, was also pardoned, and also set to go straight. He, ostensibly, went with Clyde and Bonnie to Missouri to talk them into turning themselves in and going straight. Things worked out quite well for Buck after he’d turned himself in following his own escape from prison. While out he married Blanche, then turned himself in to finish his sentence so he could start with a clean slate. The prison officials were so impressed that he was given a job posting inside the walls at Eastham, which was cushy compared to the work farms.
But following Clyde and Bonnie to Missouri, set Buck and Blanche on a trajectory to tragedy as they would ultimately have a shootout with the laws in Platte City, Missouri. There Buck would take a shot to the head that didn’t kill him outright, but did seriously injure him, and Blanche would get glass shards in her eyes causing permanent loss of vision in one eye, as a bullet shattered the window where she was hovered over her husband. Eventually, the laws would catch up with them, and when faced with the choice of going down with his brother or running away, Clyde took Bonnie and W.D and left Buck and Blanche to their fates. Blanche was sentenced to 10 years in prison, and Buck died of his injuries a few days after they were caught.
I mentioned earlier in my review that Bonnie would be seriously injured in a car accident, well, that is no joke. So, Buck Barrow ultimately died July 29, 1933. Bonnie’s accident had occurred on June 10, 1933, when Clyde, who was driving fast like always, missed a road out sign and rolled the car they were in. The battery spilled all over Bonnie, causing severe chemical burns…like, burned to the bone chemical burns. The last year of her life, Bonnie couldn’t walk anywhere and the last known picture of Bonnie and Clyde shows Clyde supporting Bonnie, with her standing on one leg. The only lucky break here is that folk remedy for burns was to put baking soda on it, which the farmer Clyde took her to, did. Baking soda neutralizes acid. Probably the only reason she didn’t die outright or require immediate amputation, was that damn baking soda. It's ostensibly to assist with caring for Bonnie that Blanche came along when Buck wanted to talk Clyde into going straight. No good deed goes unpunished and all.
After Buck and Blanche went down, the shine of criminal life was off for W.D. and he also left the party. It was around this time that Clyde was contacted by I believe it was Fults, asking for assistance breaking out of Eastham. If you watched the Netflix show The Highwaymen, which was told about the tracking and killing of Bonnie and Clyde, this breakout is where that movie starts.
And they did break out their intended targets, being Fults and Hamilton, who Clyde felt he owed since a crime Clyde had done was hung on Hamilton’s neck. Seeing the breakout happen, Henry Methvin ran too, and joined the Barrow Gang, remaining a member until the end….actually, causing the end, in more ways than one.
Also from The Highwaymen, they show a scene where Clyde and Bonnie gun down two motorcycle cops. That was METHVIN and Clyde. Bonnie, as near as the author can tell, never fired any weapons in any of the crimes, and indeed, would not have been capable of firing the Browning Automatic Rifle (BAR) that was Clyde’s gun of choice, because she couldn’t even stand on two legs at this point. BAR’s, for the record, were not that easy to get, seen primarily as military weapons, and the only reason Clyde had so many of the damn things is that he had a particular penchant for robbing state militia armories. Like….national guard bases TODAY are all behind brick walls and require key cards and access codes. Back then, they were a favored target of Clyde Barrow, who appreciated the superior firepower available at the average state armory.
Methvin, on that fateful April 1 of 1934, misunderstood Clyde. In the past, when opportunity presented itself, Clyde and Bonnie had been known to take law enforcement officers captive for a day and drive around with them, talking and laughing, before letting them go somewhere with a story to tell. Well, when Clyde said “let’s take em,” he meant, lets kidnap them and take em for a joy ride. Methvin understood Lets Take Em to mean, lets kill them and get out of there. And it was at this point that the public began to turn against Bonnie and Clyde. Because one of the downed officers, was engaged and set to marry like a week later. His fiancé wore her wedding dress to his funeral.
All the movies show Bonnie and Clyde as these daring do bank robbers, folk hero’s, Robin Hood and Maid Marion. They were not. They were petty thieves. They robbed few banks, and those they did rob they didn’t get much from. It wasn’t until after they died that bank robbery became a federal crime. Mostly they robbed from mom and pop shops. And they weren’t stealing cars from dealerships, they were stealing them from whoever left their cars conveniently available for them to steal.
It was after the Eastham jail break that Frank Hamer was brought into it. The Highwaymen got that right. The rest of it…eh. Hollywood always screws up the truth. In 1934, the governor was Ma Freguson. Ma Ferguson did despise Frank Hamer, and the feeling was entirely mutual. But warden Lee Simmons knew Hamer would bulldog the Barrow gang to the ground, and he got Ferguson’s permission to bring Hamer back into the Rangers for this one special assignment. Hamer literally dogged their tracks, circling following them from West Dallas, up to Indiana and Ohio, Oklahoma, Tennessee, Arkansas, and Missouri. The only place Hamer kept a deliberate low profile was Louisiana. This is because Henry Methvin’s father, Ivy Methvin, was working with Bienville Parish sheriff’s office and Hamer and Dallas deputies to catch the Barrow gang, in exchange for a pardon for Henry.
And on May 23, 1934, the trap sprung, and 116 rounds poured into the, stolen of course, 1934 Ford Model 40B DeLuxe Fordor sedan with a flathead V8 engine. Much as Clyde enjoyed robbing state arsenals for BAR’s, his preferred vehicle was always a Ford V8, so much so that he allegedly wrote a letter to Henry Ford
Dear Sir: —
While I still have got breath in my lungs I will tell you what a dandy car you make. I have drove Fords exclusively when I could get away with one. For sustained speed and freedom from trouble the Ford has got every other car skinned and even if my business hasn’t been strictly legal it don’t hurt anything to tell you what a fine car you got in the V8.
Yours truly,
Clyde Champion Barrow
When Clyde was arrested prior to his first official prison sentence, he did say his name was Clyde Champion Barrow. So it’s entirely possible the letter is legitimate. Ford certainly thought so, and the letter is on display at the Henry Ford Museum.
Clyde was killed instantly with a round to his head. All 6 members of the team that had coalesced to kill or capture the duo recall hearing Bonnie scream, before the rest of the round were fired. Word spread like wildfire and the locals of Bienville Parish came out to try and cut souvenirs from the bodies, a rather ghoulish prequel to today. We all know good goddamn well that 100 years on, nothing much has changed. Except now the free range target practice would probably be live streamed on Facebook, complete with idiot commentary and ACAB protestations.
All throughout their criminal run, Bonnie and Clyde stayed in contact with their families. The Highwaymen references Red beans overheard on phone calls. We don’t know this code from Frank Hamer because he didn’t know it was code. The family early on assumed their phone calls were being listened to and mentioned red beans when Clyde wanted to meet. We know this because of interviews with surviving family members.
After their funerals, the federal government enacted laws about aiding and abetting. Poor families from West Dallas didn’t have money to hire lawyers to argue that what they had done, staying in contact and feeding Bonnie and Clyde, was not, in fact, illegal when they had done it, and so various family members were sentenced to prison terms ranging from one month to one year after the deaths of Bonnie and Clyde.
This book was excellent. It tracks in detail the movements of America’s most infamous duo, when they robbed where, who was involved in each heist, and what happened to the surviving key players.
The Highwaymen was made for Netflix in 2019 and this book was released in 2009, so doesn’t address what that movie got wrong, although the closing scene where the people are mobbing the death car and cutting off souvenirs is disgustingly accurate. But he does address the Warren Beaty movie and how other than the names of key players, it was a glorified Hollywood suggestion of what happened. The movie suggests Clyde may have been impotent and possibly gay. He was not, on either count. The movie combines key characters, like W.D. Jones and Henry Methvin, superimposes Mary O’Dare’s persona onto Blanche Barrow, a change that was definitely NOT for the better, and Frank Hamer’s widow sued and won an undisclosed amount for their depiction of Hamer as somewhat bumbling and having been captured by the dangerous duo. But the movie did get right their undying devotion to each other, a devotion that is still seen as romantic, 90 years after they met their end in a hail of bullets.
