Red Crown Tourist Court - The Gang Seeks Refuge

The Gang Seeks Refuge

Uncharacteristically, Clyde Barrow was looking for a place the gang might hole up for several nights. It was his usual practice to keep moving and never spend more than one night in any given spot, but the previous weeks had been difficult. On June 10, a one-car wreck at Wellington, Texas had left Bonnie Parker critically burned and near death. While the gang hid and tried to nurse Parker in a Ft. Smith, Arkansas tourist court, Buck Barrow and W.D. Jones were sent to raise funds; they bungled the robbery and killed the town marshal of Alma, Arkansas. The resultant police attention forced the gang to move on despite Parker's dire condition, and by mid-July, Barrow hoped they could put their feet up for several days in the same place.

To bankroll their stay, on July 18 the outlaws staged a freewheeling — if rather minor-league — crime rampage through the staid streets of Fort Dodge, Iowa, stopping at one gas station after another, ransacking the cash registers and robbing and kidnapping the attendants, shoving them onto the backseat. They also broke open the vending and gumball machines and scooped out all the change, a move which would have unexpected consequences for them several days hence. After three such robberies in fifteen minutes they realized they had no more room for hostages, released everybody, and with a hundred fifty new dollars in their pockets, headed for Kansas City; it was 250 miles distant over 1933 roads, yet they were there in under four hours.

Brother Buck agreed in principle with the idea of a long rest, but disagreed with the choice of Kansas City because, only weeks before, the town had "hosted" the bloody Kansas City Massacre at its Union Station and was still rife with federal, state and local police officers looking everywhere for gangsters. The brothers fought bitterly about the plan before lapsing into a toxic silence that enveloped the car. Late that night they pulled in to refuel at Slim's Castle, a service station, café and convenience store at the busy Platte City intersection known locally as "The Junction," and the Red Crown Tourist Court across the street caught Clyde Barrow's eye. What attracted him initially was the sturdy brick construction of the place, which made him feel secure, he would tell his family later. To his hot, dirty, cross passengers he said, "'This is where we stay the rest of the night, even if we all get killed before morning.' No one said anything."