NARRATOR: She was a lonely
waitress longing for excitement and romance. He was a volatile ex con who
vowed he would never go back to prison. They found each other in
the slums of Dallas, Texas in the early 1930s and
proceeded to go on a crime spree that shocked the nation. Fueled by passion and love,
the desire to escape poverty, and utter contempt
for authority, Bonnie Parker and
Clyde Barrow united. You know, it was love
at first sight then, because they never
did, you know, want anybody else
but each other. Bonnie joined Clyde
and stayed with him, because she knew
he was going to die and she wanted to
die by his side. NARRATOR: Since their
death 60 years ago, the lives of Bonnie and
Clyde have been romanticized and glamorized in films,
in books, in music, and on television. "Love and Death-- The Story of Bonnie and Clyde." For two Incredible
years, Bonnie and Clyde led their notorious gang
on a bloody crime wave that stretched across five states. Bonnie and Clyde robbed
banks, pulled a string of armed robberies, that left a
bloody trail of murder victims in their wake. All the while, hundreds of law
enforcement personnel from five southwestern states
hotly pursued the couple. Yet, the pair was able to elude
authorities and avoid capture until they were taken
out in a hail of bullets. Cops hate cop killers,
and they were not popular. They were highly, highly sought,
and everybody wanted a piece of Bonnie and Clyde. MAN (READING AS CLYDE BARROW):
"No man but the undertaker will ever get me. If officers cripple me where
I see they'll take me alive, I'll take my own life." Clyde Barrow. NARRATOR: A tough man
who lived in tough times, Clyde Barrow was born in
Telico, Texas on March 21, 1909. He was the sixth child of
Henry and Cumie Barrow. He was a wonderful boy. I thought I-- you
know, he was-- he was-- loved his mother better than
anything in the world, I guess. He was quite a mama's boy, and
he was real close to all of us. NARRATOR: There was plenty
of love in the Barrow family, but very little money. Henry Barrow was a
poor tenant farmer. When Clyde was 12
years old, the family was forced to give up farming. They moved to Dallas, Texas. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS: There was
a lot of economic prosperity, but there was just as much
economic despair in the '20s, especially in the rural areas. That's where Clyde
Barrow came from. He was from a rural
farming background. I think it was as
early as 1919 or 1920 when the Barrows
moved to Dallas. Dallas was somewhat of a
mecca for rural farmers who were having trouble making
ends meet in the farming profession. MARIE BARROW: When I
grew up with my brother, it wasn't a very nice
place where we grew up. We lived on a campground. We was real poor, and didn't
have no money, you know, no home or nothing. And finally, my sister bought
a place up on Eagle Ford Road, they call it, and my daddy had
built this little house that we moved in, you know, there. And we drug it up
there on this place, and he put in a filling station. NARRATOR: By age 16,
Clyde had quit school. He was slender and
small in stature-- barely five seven-- and
possessed an innocent look. Following the example of
his older brother Buck, Clyde embarked on
a life of crime. It started with
small transgressions. MARIE BARROW: He
rented this car, and he kept this car too
long, and the police come looking for him, and that's
what started it first. And then my brother Buck
and him bought some turkeys from somebody, and
these turkeys was hot. And they caught them trying
to sell these turkeys, and then they put them
in jail for hot turkeys. NARRATOR: Buck spent
a week in prison, but authorities chose
not to incarcerate Clyde. However, this first brush with
the law did not deter Clyde. He continued his petty thievery. He also started stealing cars. Clyde quickly became well-known
to the Dallas police. In October of 1929,
police were searching for Clyde in connection with
a number of local robberies. He was trying to
elude police, and was in hiding when he met the
woman who would become his soulmate, Bonnie Parker. Bonnie Parker was born
on October 1st in 1910. She had an older brother
and a younger sister. Her father Henry died when
Bonnie was just four years old. Her mother Emma then
moved the family to a suburb of Dallas
known as Cement City. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS: There was a
lot of poverty in West Dallas. There were a lot of young
people with a lot of energy that they had no place
to blow off steam. They saw things that they
wanted that they couldn't get, and they just started taking it. And so in that
environment, that's where Bonnie came from, really. FRANK PRASSEL: Bonnie's family
managed to get her through high school, and she seems to
have been-- by all reports-- a rather nice girl,
attractive girl. She worked as a waitress. She was married when
she was very young, but her husband was
convicted and sent to prison before she barely met Clyde. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS: She married
Roy Thornton when she was 16. She and Roy apparently
were very much in love, but he was abusive to her. He beat her. He drank heavily. He would take to disappearing
for weeks at a time. After several of
his disappearances, when he showed up again, she
told him just to shove off. She didn't want to have
anything to do with him. But she never divorced him,
and she always wore his wedding ring, and she still had it
on the day she was killed. NARRATOR: Roy Thornton
was arrested and convicted of bank robbery. He was sent to the notorious
Eastham Prison Farm. In January, 1930, Bonnie Parker
met another dangerous man who would be her true love
and her undoing, Clyde Barrow. [music playing] JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS:
I think he came along at just the right time for her. She was looking for a wild
card like Clyde Barrow, and she sure found him. NARRATOR: Clyde was 20
years old, Bonnie just 19. Their first encounter took place
when Bonnie came to the aid of a sickened girlfriend. WOMAN (READING AS
BILLIE JEAN PARKER): "Bonnie was a
wonderful personality. She was a kind person. We had a good friend,
and she had an accident. Bonnie wasn't
working at the time, so she went out to
take care of the lady, and she met Clyde
through this lady." Bonnie's sister, Billie
Jean Parker, 1968. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS:
He was already wanted for several
murders at the time. He was hidin', and he and Bonnie
really fell for each other immediately. And upon meeting, were
almost always together for the next two weeks until
he was finally arrested. NARRATOR: Clyde was
convicted and sentenced to two years for
five auto thefts, and received a 12-year suspended
sentence for two burglaries. But once in prison, Clyde's
thoughts immediately turned to escape. Lovesick, Bonnie was more
than willing to help him. JIMMY RAY GILLMAN: Bonnie
Parker smuggled in a 32 Colt automatic. He managed to escape,
and he left the state. But within a couple weeks, he
was recaptured up in Minnesota. He was brought back, tried, and
received a 14-year sentence. NARRATOR: Clyde was remanded
to Huntsville penitentiary where he met fellow
inmate Ralph Fults. The pair formed an
immediate alliance. The men were then allocated to
work in Eastham Prison Farm. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS:
At Eastham, it was like going to
another planet, really, especially for
somebody like Barrow. As much as-- as much as
he'd been involved in, he wasn't expecting what he
had found down in Eastham. NARRATOR: Prisoners were
regularly beaten and abused. Guards allegedly
routinely shot and killed convicts to keep the
other inmates in line. Soon, Fults found himself on
the receiving end of a guard beating. They were exacting revenge
on Fults who had previously escaped from Eastham and
was later recaptured. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS: It was
just kind of a tradition. Fults knew it was coming. Two guards closed
in and held him down while they pistol-whipped him. At one point, the guard
that was beatin' him stopped, and Fults was
almost unconscious. He could barely see, and he
could see Clyde standing over there with his fists
clenched like he was on jump on this guard. These guards were
like 6'3", 6'4" , and here's little 5'7"
Clyde standing while he's-- and Ralph said he could
still see the veins in his neck pulling out. And he was going to jump on
that guard, and that guard said, what do you want, boy? You want some of this too? And Clyde never said a
thing, just stood there. And all of that called attention
away from what they were doing with Fults. And later on, Fults
thought that-- that he may have saved his life by
standing there like that. And they stopped beating
Fults, and they left him. They went on, and Clyde
never backed down. And this really
impressed Ralph Fults. And right after
that, Clyde said, you know what we ought to do? We ought to get out of
this place, get a gang, and come back in here, raid this
place, and turn everybody loose and shoot every damn
one of these guards. NARRATOR: This was more than
just big talk from Clyde. It would only take
three years before Clyde was able to put his plan
for revenge into action. Meanwhile, Clyde's
relationship with Bonnie intensified as
the pair regularly corresponded through letters. WOMAN (READING AS
BONNIE PARKER): "Sugar, I never really knew I
really cared for you until you got in jail. But honey, if you
get out OK, please don't ever do anything
to get locked up again. I can't think of anything
to say, only that I love you more than anything on Earth." Excerpt of a letter from Bonnie
to Clyde, February 14, 1930. MAN (READING AS CLYDE
BARROW): "Dear baby, I just read your letter, and I
was sure glad to get it, for I'm awfully
lonesome and blue. Honey, if I could just spend
just one week with you, I'd be ready to die,
for I love you." Excerpt of a letter from Clyde
to Bonnie, April 19, 1930. MARIE BARROW: The only thing he
would ever say to my mother it was a burning hell. It was horrible on my mother. She like went crazy,
because that's one thing. Her kids come first with her,
and it almost drove her crazy. MAN (READING AS CLYDE BARROW):
"Mother went down to Waco to talk to the
judge, and he said he'd help her get my
sentence cut back two years. If everything works out
like I hope it will, I won't have to stay away
from my baby much longer. Merry, Merry Christmas. I send all my love to you." Excerpt of a letter from Clyde
to Bonnie December 21, 1930. NARRATOR: Fourteen months
later, Clyde was still at the gruesome prison farm. He was growing impatient,
waiting for his mother to convince authorities to
give her son an early release. So Clyde decided to take
matters into his own hands. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS: One day
he convinced a fellow convict to lob off a couple toes
so that he could get out of work detail. The funny thing about it is,
his mother and sister were at the governor
working on his pardon, and two weeks later, he
was pardoned and walked out of Eastham Prison on crutches. NARRATOR: In February, 1932,
Clyde came home to Dallas. Prison life had had a
devastating effect on him. MARIE BARROW: I think it changed
him a lot, made him hard. He used to talk a lot,
and he was a lot of fun. He liked to dance and he played
all kinds of instruments, nearly, they'd done a
lot to Clyde down there. It was just a really--
a living hell for him. NARRATOR: Clyde faced an
almost insurmountable struggle when he returned home. WOMAN (READING AS BILLIE JEAN
PARKER): "He served his time. He came out. Clyde started to work. At that time, it was during
the Depression, and each time that something happened, the
police went to Clyde's job. Well, after so many times
on the job questioning him, he would lose that
job time after time, and jobs were scarce. Clyde just finally gave up." Billie Jean Parker, 1968. NARRATOR: While not everyone
chose a life of crime, the Great Depression drove many
people to acts of desperation. MAN ON RADIO: "Prosperity
is just around the corner," say the hopeful headlines. But around the corner is
winding lengthening bread lines, and a whole new
class of citizens appears in American
society, the new poor. PAUL HUTTON: The country had
been wracked by its worst economic decline. A quarter of the
population was unemployed. People were on the road. Hobos were jumping trains. Dislocation was
going on everywhere. ROGER MCGRATH: You had great
disparities between wealth and poverty. A lot of farmers were
losing their farms. There was a lot of
resentment against banks and big business, the railroads,
and other heavy industry at this time. NARRATOR: The Great Depression. The time seemed to fill the
air with a heavy apathy, borne of frustration, helplessness,
and suppressed anger. In many ways, Bonnie
and Clyde were a product of those desperate,
dreary times, and the public responded. JONATHAN DAVIS: I think many
people had the idea that Bonnie and Clyde were doing something
that they would have liked to have done at times. And anybody who robbed
banks or fought the law was really living out
some secret fantasies on the part of a large part of
the population of the country. NARRATOR: The
depression gave rise to a new class of criminal. While organized crime
syndicates led by men like Al Capone prospered in
the prohibition era '20s, during the Depression, a new
breed of criminal was born. ROGER MCGRATH: In a way,
Clyde Barrow and other outlaws from the Midwest
and the Southwest represented a certain
kind of Robin Hood ethic, attacking some of
these institutions. WOMAN (READING AS
BILLIE JEAN PARKER): At the same time that Bonnie
and Clyde were active, we had John Dillinger, who
was much more famous outlaw in his time, Pretty Boy Floyd,
Ma Barker and her boys, Machine Gun Kelly, Baby Face Nelson. A whole raft of
these people were roaming around the country. NARRATOR: The Depression
sparked the public's fascination with bad guys in real
life and in movies. Actors like Edward G.
Robinson and James Cagney gave crime a lot of class. Gangster films became so popular
that government officials became alarmed. This is one of the
reasons the Hays office-- Hollywood's self-censorship
board-- was born. Yet, for all of their
infamy, Bonnie and Clyde were not very efficient thieves. PAUL HUTTON: Bonnie and
Clyde never seemed to plan. They were predatory
robbers that simply moved about the countryside. And when they ran
out of money, they robbed whatever was convenient. This meant that they usually
took very little money, and they were risking
their lives sometimes for $10, $20, $50. $2,000 was a huge haul for them. NARRATOR: But it wasn't
so much the money. Clyde fancied himself a
modern-day Jesse James. ROGER MCGRATH: I'm sure Clyde
Barrow did think of himself as a modern-day Jesse James. Instead of a fast getaway
into the rural hinterland on a horse, used to car. In many ways, his
crimes were similar. He tried to avoid killing
any innocent victims. He shot mostly a lawman, and
very often, even with lawmen, he would capture,
take for a ride, and then release unharmed,
adding a certain kind of romantic panache
to his crimes. NARRATOR: The
public's fascination with both fictional gangsters
and the genuine article was spurred by the emptiness
of the Depression years. But Bonnie and Clyde
were truly unique. The couple's passionate love
affair put them in a class by themselves. PAUL HUTTON: The saga
of Bonnie and Clyde is an irresistible one. It's the stuff of legend-- attractive young people,
totally nihilistic, totally without fear,
totally anti-social, breaking all the rules,
all the conventions, defying all the
forces of authority-- and on numerous
occasions, they showed that they were willing to risk
their lives for each other. WOMAN (READING AS
BONNIE PARKER): "I know you can't
ever live in Dallas, honey, because you
can't live down the awful name you got here. But sugar, you could
go somewhere else and get a job and work. I want you to be a man,
honey, and not a thug. I know you are good, and
I know you can make good." Excerpt of a letter
from Bonnie to Clyde. NARRATOR: But Clyde did
not heed Bonnie's advice. Now an ex con, the police
continued to routinely bring Clyde in for questioning. It took just two weeks to end
Clyde's half-hearted attempt to go straight. JANATHAN DAVIS: It was hard
enough for anybody to be making an honest living
back then, much less somebody who had been in jail. And once a person
had been in jail, it was real tough to go
out and get honest work. MARIE BARROW: When they
started picking him up, and he just thought, well, I'm
not going back to that prison. I'll just start a life
of crime, I guess. NARRATOR: In March of 1932-- traveling in a stolen car-- Bonnie and Clyde
went on the road together for the first time. Ralph Fults joined
them for the trip. Fults discussed the couple's
attitude in this interview he gave in 1984, two
years before his death. RALPH FULTS: And it
was a game, then. But he got serious, you
know, after I got with them. It's hard to turn 'round when
you go snowballing, you know. ROGER MCGRATH:
Bonnie participated in her first
robbery with Clyde-- and his partner at that
time, Ralph Fults-- in April of 1932. The robbery evidently
was badly botched, and in an escape attempt, Bonnie
was captured by the police and taken into custody. NARRATOR: Bonnie and
Ralph were captured. Bonnie cooled her heels in a
jail cell in Kaufman, Texas for two months. Ralph Fults was sent
back to the penitentiary. Clyde escaped. RALPH FULTS: I knew that
Clyde wouldn't give up. He done-- he done
showed me that. He went back and he left me, and
I knew he wanted to be with me. NARRATOR: While Bonnie was
in jail, Clyde kept busy. He teamed up with another
prison pal, Raymond Hamilton. The pair decided to rob
John Bucher, a shopkeeper in Hillsboro, Texas. But the heist did
not go as planned. This documentary--
filmed in 1934-- shows a reenactment
of the crime. NARRATOR IN 1934 DOCUMENTARY:
And about midnight on April 30, 1932, they knocked on the door
of a small store owned by J. M. Bucher. [gunfire] Clyde Barrow murdered J.M.
Bucher, a defenseless man, shot him in the back,
and then continued to pour hot lead into his
body as it lay on the floor. JIMMY RAY GILLMAN: At
that point in time, Clyde couldn't turn back. Because even though Mrs. Bucher
identified them as the two bandits, they were still-- it was circumstantial evidence,
so they could have turned back. But Clyde felt
like that it was-- he was caught. At that time period, they
gave you the electric chair. He knew he was facing
the death sentence, and he just kept on at it. NARRATOR: In June,
1932, Bonnie was acquitted for lack of evidence
and released from jail. She quickly rejoined her lover. But Clyde now had a
price on his head. The governor of Texas
had offered a $250 reward for his capture. Clyde Barrow was
front-page news. And the headlines turned
from bad to worse. Clyde and Ray Hamilton
were hiding out in Stringtown, Oklahoma, after
robbing a packing company payroll. On the night of August 5, 1932-- at a country dance-- the fugitives senselessly
killed Deputy Eugene Moore, and seriously wounded
Sheriff C.G. Maxwell. PAUL HUTTON: Clyde
Hamilton and two others had come to the dance, probably
looking for somebody to rob. They were liquored up. Two officers walked
over to them. One of them said, we
don't allow that here. Prohibition was still going on. And suddenly, he was killed, and
his associate mortally wounded, and the outlaws roared off. They didn't make it
very far down the road. They'd exchanged gunfire
before they overturned the car in a culvert. They unloaded a
lot of their guns, run across a railroad track, and
managed to steal another car. And in the total of all,
they abandoned three cars, and finally escaped on foot. And that really
was the end of it. As far as that was concerned,
Clyde was a hunted man. NARRATOR: Bonnie and Clyde
survived 22 more months after the Stringtown
murders, but life on the run was far from glamorous. FRANK PRASSEL: They certainly
were not living well. They were camping out, they were
living in third-rate tourist camps, and I'm sure they were
paying bribes in some cases, or outrageous sums of money
to people to hide them in other cases. They needed money, and they
did perform more robberies to get it. NARRATOR: For the families
of Bonnie and Clyde, these were tough times. But the two outlaws
tried to keep in touch with their concerned relatives. MARIE BARROW: Mama used to write
it down on the side of the wall the time when he
come by and all. December, January, February,
March, at least 10 or 12 times, each one of them months,
he'd come by home. NARRATOR: The outlaws had
a unique way of setting up meetings with their families. Clyde would put a
note in a cola bottle and toss the bottle from the
car as he passed by his father's filling station. Henry Barrow would
retrieves the bottle, and the rendezvous was set. MARIE BARROW: We went every
time that he come to town. My mother'd cook him some beans,
or, you know, or something. We'd take him something to
eat, clean clothes to him. WOMAN (READING AS
BILLIE JEAN PARKER): "We usually met them in a
field, and we had a signal. Just turn the lights on and
off so many times and they'd know it was us, and
we'd know it was them." Billie Jean Parker, 1968. MARIE BARROW: My mother
wasn't mad at him. She just, you know, she tried
to get him to not do things, you know? But he just said he
done got in too deep, and he couldn't get out of it. NARRATOR: Raymond Hamilton was
also close to his relatives, but during a family
visit in Michigan, Ray was apprehended and
was sentenced to 264 years at Eastham Prison Farm. Clyde vowed to get Ray out. By this time, the
Barrow gang had already established a reputation
of dubious distinction in the Southwest. But the path to
nationwide infamy began in late March of
1933 when Buck Barrow was released from prison. Buck and his wife Blanche had
made arrangements to rendezvous with Bonnie and Clyde. MARIE BARROW: He was
really intending to go on the straight and narrow. He was going to try to talk
Clyde into coming back, and then he got off and got in
trouble hisself, and then he-- wasn't nothing he could do. NARRATOR: For two
weeks, the two couples lived quietly in an apartment
in Joplin, Missouri. W.D. Jones-- a childhood
neighbor and accomplice of Clyde's-- was also with the group. But by April 13,
money was running low. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS:
Barrow and W.D. Jones had just come back from a
trip out casing new places to burglarize. And Buck had met him at the
door, there at the garage door, and Buck was just
closing the garage door when the police drove up,
and Buck said, it's the law. NARRATOR: Suspicious neighbors
had told the local police that bootleggers might be
hiding in the apartment. When Detective Wes Harriman
and Constable Harry McGuinness went to the front door, they
had no idea who they were really confronting. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS:
Clyde and W.D. Jones grabbed their
shotguns and just met 'em right there at the door,
and killed the first two that came up to the door,
just as quick as that. ROGER MCGRATH: And
with that, Bonnie grabbed an automatic rifle and
started firing out the kitchen window. Well, from there, the
gunfire became widespread. Buck Barrow started firing,
other police were firing. A Deputy Jones was hit
by a round in the head. Blood spurted. Bonnie came running
down the stairs. Blanche-- Buck's wife-- ran crazily into the street
with her little dog yapping at her heels. Clyde managed to get
everybody but Blanche into a car in the garage,
and flung the doors open. Firing shotguns and
automatic rifles, they roared out of the
garage and down the street, leaving one dead one dying
policemen behind them, and the others
firing after them. NARRATOR: This was just
one of the many times that Bonnie and Clyde
managed to escape justice. But a roll of film
the group left behind produced indelible
images of the gang. Newspapers printed the
sensational photos, and reported the group's
triumph over the law. The public's sordid
interests were piqued. They clamored for more of
the astonishing gang story. Any intention Buck had to
go straight was finished. The gang's fate was sealed
by this heinous crime. The beginning of the end took
place in Wellington, Texas, on June 8, 1933, when Bonnie
was seriously injured. JONATHAN DAVIS: She and
Clyde and Deputy Jones were driving out near
Wellington, Texas to meet Buck and
Blanche in Oklahoma. And they were crossing
the Red River, and they were unaware
that a bridge was out, and they went off the road
into the dry riverbed. And the car tumbled a few
times and caught on fire, and Bonnie was burned
in the fire there. WOMAN (READING AS
BILLIE JEAN PARKER): "Bonnie's leg, all
the muscle, she was burned to the bone
on her calf of her leg. She never walked
any more straight. She walked with a
limp, a bad limp. She never got over that. That was one of the
time I went to her. Clyde came after me. They were in Arkansas." Billie Jean Parker, 1968. NARRATOR: Bonnie,
Clyde, and W.D. Fled to Fort Smith, Arkansas,
where they met up with Blanche and Buck. Despite Bonnie's injuries,
the gang kept on the move. JIMMY RAY GILLMAN:
Clyde Barrow's driving was what kept him alive for the
two years that Bonnie and Clyde made their names in infamy. He thought nothing of driving a
thousand miles in one stretch. With the new two-way
radios and stuff, Clyde Barrow knew that he could
escape criminal prosecution by crossing state lines. FRANK PRASSEL: The idea that
you could conduct a robbery, jump in the car and speed
away and actually escape was-- was real. It could-- it could be
done, because if you got out of sight, you might
very well escape. NARRATOR: Finally, in July
1933, the gang settled down in the Red Crown Tourist Camp
in Platte City, Missouri. But the law had been tipped
off the gang was there, and soon, the Barrows were
completely surrounded. PAUL HUTTON: They had
overpowering force. But still-- being
polite gentleman-- they went up to the
cabin door and knocked, asked who was there. Blanche sort of sweetly
said, I'm not dressed. Just wait a moment,
while, of course, Buck and Clyde and Jones
armed themselves to the teeth, and then commenced blazing away,
taking the policemen totally by surprise. They also hit the horn of the
armored car that was there, and it set off to roaring
through the night. And all the officers thought
that it was a signal, so they rushed forward which
exposed themselves, caused utter confusion. They all got in the car, which
was soon engulfed in a fuselage of fire from the officers. The windows were shattered. Blanche got shards of glass in
her eyes and began to scream. Buck took a bullet through the
brain, which went in one temple and out the other, and fell
mortally wounded into the car. Clyde-- machine gun in one
hand, driving like a demon-- went right through
the police lines, and they still made it away. NARRATOR: On July
20, the crippled gang arrived at an abandoned
amusement park near Dexter, Iowa. But after four days, police
discovered the hideout, and moved in on them. Bonnie, Clyde, and W.D. once
again managed to escape. The critically injured
Buck and Blanche surrendered to authorities. Near death, Buck
was hospitalized. MARIE BARROW: My
mother went up there. He lived-- I think part of
his brains was even shot. I don't know how he talked. It was just so long,
you know, that he did. But he was-- my mother
was there when he died. NARRATOR: Buck Barrow
died on July 30, 1933. Blanche was sent to jail and
spent 10 years in prison. And W.D. Jones left
Bonnie and Clyde. Shortly thereafter,
police apprehended W.D. After his capture, in order
to receive a lighter sentence, Jones renounced
his fellow outlaws and claimed he was an unwilling
participant when he gave this statement. W,D. JONES: I have been indicted
along with Clyde and Bonnie for the murder of Malcolm Davis,
Fort Worth deputy sheriff. I was forced along under threats
of death with Clyde Barrow through many of his gun battles,
and saw him kill five men. Clyde Barrow never seemed
to care for killing anyone. All he thought of was himself. That's the reason
I tried to escape. He'd as soon kill me as anyone. NARRATOR: Bonnie and Clyde
continued to make headlines. On January 16, 1934, Clyde kept
his promise to Raymond Hamilton and fulfilled his dream. He masterminded a daring break
out at Eastham Prison Farm. Clyde enlisted the help of
Hamilton's brother, Floyd. Floyd and an accomplice
hid the guns. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS: The guns
were planted on this woodpile, the very woodpile Ralph Fults
was pistol-whipped on years earlier. One of the convicts named Joe
Palmer retrieved the guns. The convicts went out
to the fields to work. Joe Palmer had two guns. He slipped one to
Raymond Hamilton, and knowing that Clyde Barrow
was parked near, this field, and indeed, Clyde Barrow was
parked there.l Bonnie waited behind the wheel. Clyde went down in this little
gully near where these workers were going to work with
Browning automatic rifles, and they were waitin'. They just waitin'. NARRATOR: Around 7
AM, gunfire erupted. One guard was killed. The three remaining
guards ran for cover. JOHN NEAL PHILLIPS: Bonnie's
blowing the horn, because it's so foggy, so they'd
know where the car is, and they all run up to the car. And Barrow gets
behind the wheel, and here comes the four escaping
prisoners, and they dive in. NARRATOR: Hamilton and four
other prisoners escaped. One of the escapees was Henry
Methvin, but helping Methvin would prove to be a critical
mistake for Bonnie and Clyde. NARRATOR IN 1934 DOCUMENTARY:
After a series of murders and bank jobs, Bonnie
and Clyde were boldly keeping a rendezvous with
some of their henchmen near Grapevine, Texas. NARRATOR: This 1934 film
footage is a recreation of the notorious duo's
last two murders. NARRATOR IN 1934 DOCUMENTARY:
Presently, two state highway patrol officers
sighted the pair. They decided to investigate. FRANK PRASSEL: A couple
of Texas highway patrolmen from the newly-created
Texas highway patrol came along on their
motorcycles, and the end result was two dead highway patrolmen. NARRATOR IN 1934 DOCUMENTARY:
This atrocious murder sealed the doom of
Bonnie and Clyde, for every peace officer
in the entire Southwest became so enraged
over this killing, they pledged themselves to
sleepless days and nights in their search for
this murdering pair. NARRATOR: Hundreds of
law enforcement personnel desperately wanted to
catch these criminals and put an end to
their reign of terror. The most famous was former
Texas Ranger Frank Hamer. MICHAEL COX: It took Hamer
102 days to finally track down Bonnie and Clyde. And what he did, he
fell back on his early-- early ranger training and he
set out as sort of a lone wolf-- just himself-- to learn as much as he could
about them and their habits. He virtually did track
them down single-handedly. MARIE BARROW: We
knew he was going to get killed sooner or later. We just didn't know when, but
it really didn't surprise any of us when he did get killed. WOMAN (READING AS CUMIE BARROW):
"I prayed only last night that I might see him alive
again, just once more." Cumie Barrow, May 23, 1934. NARRATOR: But Clyde's mother
would not get her wish. On the morning of May 23,
1934, an unsuspecting Bonnie and Clyde were driving
down a country road near Arcadia, Louisiana, close
to Henry Methvin's father's home. Texas Rangers and
sheriffs awaited them. It was a
carefully-planned ambush. Henry Methvin's father had
betrayed the pair in exchange for amnesty for his son. NARRATOR IN 1934 DOCUMENTARY:
For three days and nights, these officers lay
in wait on this road. NARRATOR: Frank Hamer suspected
the weakening criminals would seek the protection
of home ground. Returning to Dallas was
out of the question, but Bonnie and Clyde had
previously sought refuge at the Methvin farm. The officers commandeered
old man Methvin's truck and jacked it up. Clyde slowed down to
help his friend's father. POLICE OFFICER: That look
like the car, fellas. That's him, for sure,
I'll guarantee it. Get ready now. That's him, fellas. If he lifts his arm,
let him have it. Look out. [gunshots] NARRATOR: This
incredible film footage was shot by one of the
officers on the scene. NARRATOR IN 1934 DOCUMENTARY:
The inevitable end, retribution. Here is Clyde Barrow
and Bonnie Parker, who died as they
lived, by the gun. Bonnie is seen
leaning against Clyde. Clyde was a master gunman. Seldom did anyone ever live
when Clyde got the first shot. MAN (READING AS FRANK
HAMER): "As accustomed as I am to slaughter
of humans, I was sickened at the sight
of Bonnie's body nearly torn to pieces with bullets." Frank Hamer, May 23, 1934. NARRATOR: Dallas deputies
Bob Alcorn and Ted Hinton-- who participated in the ambush-- later publicly spoke
about the event. BOB ALCORN: Each and every
officer present at the time of the capture deserves the same
credit, as we all did our best. I regret that we couldn't have-- couldn't have taken them
alive, but that was impossible. I further regret that there was
a woman that had to be killed, which couldn't have been helped. TED HINTON: There's not much
to say now, it is all over. The ends of law and
justice has been served. NARRATOR: Scores of people
rushed to the small Louisiana town, hoping to catch a
glimpse of the dead outlaws. It was a scene of
absolute pandemonium. MARIE BARROW: They tried
to do everything to him, cut his ears off and tried to
do that, everything else, just to get pieces of him. People's cruel. They don't-- they
worse than he was. NARRATOR: There were separate
funerals and grave sites for the lovers who in
life, had been inseparable. NARRATOR IN 1934 DOCUMENTARY:
Thousands attend the homecoming of Clyde Barrow. NARRATOR: In this
Dallas funeral home, a never-ending line of
men, women, and children from every walk of life came
to catch a glimpse of the body of the criminal who had wrought
so much death and destruction. NARRATOR IN 1934
DOCUMENTARY: Clyde's body is born to the grave. Again, tragedy and shame
descend upon his aged father and mother. Like his brother Buck, he
died at the hands of the law. NARRATOR: At another
funeral home in Dallas, three miles across the city
from where Clyde's body lay, lay the body of his lover. For Bonnie, the crowd
was even larger. There had never been a woman
outlaw as notorious as Bonnie, and she was the only woman ever
to be shot down by officers of the law and dead at capture. NARRATOR IN 1934
DOCUMENTARY: Bonnie's burial was attended only by close
friends and relatives, which numbered about 150 people. Clyde Barrow's mother and
father also pay their respects to the girl who was
Clyde's only friend, and who died by his side. NARRATOR: With the exception
of how they were buried, Bonnie accurately predicted
what would become of her and Clyde in a poem she
penned before their deaths. WOMAN (READING AS
BONNIE PARKER): "They don't think they're
too smart or desperate. They know that the
law always wins. They've been shot at before,
but they do not ignore that death is the wages of sin. Someday, they'll
go down together. They'll bury them side by side. To few, it'll be grief,
to the law, a relief. But it's death for
Bonnie and Clyde." [music playing]
