Monday, September 7, 2015


The “Perfect Factory Town”

In the years after the Great Fire, wealth and prosperity returned to Chicago. According to many reformers and activists, that wealth remained in the hands of a privileged few. Men like Cyrus McCormick, George Pullman, and others were the city’s wealthy elite. They worked their employees hard and paid them poorly, but were oblivious to the treatment of their workers.

America’s “titans of industry” during the so-called Gilded Age were puzzled when their employees were not grateful for what they were given and was enraged when they dared to ask, and organize, for more. All of the major employers saw constant unrest among their workers over job conditions, wages and shorter workdays. There was no question that conditions in many plants were poor and men worked 10-12 hours, six days a week, for very little pay. Strikes and protests soon became commonplace.

During the tense summer of 1877, when there were riots in the Chicago that were part of a nationwide strike effort by railroad workers protesting wage cuts, Marshall Field volunteered the use of his delivery wagons to transport policemen from one problem area to another. Three men were killed and eight wounded during a demonstration at a Burlington Railroad roundhouse and the next day, 10 more strike sympathizers were killed at the Halsted Street viaduct. Federal troops who came directly from fighting Indians out west were sent in to restore order. The following year, Field, McCormick, and others secretly subscribed to a fund that would furnish Gatling guns and uniforms for the Illinois National Guard. This was done, according to McCormick's assistant, to prepare for "what danger if any was to be anticipated from the communistic element in the city."

Strikes and protests continued but the Haymarket Square Riot in 1886, which ended with a bombing and led to the deaths of police officers and protesting strikers, changed the face of the labor movement forever.

George M. Pullman

 George M. Pullman never dreamed that anything like the Haymarket Square Riot would affect his company. Pullman was a self-described "humanitarian," who built a model company town for his employees, and never imagined that his workers could want for anything. He was born in New York and came to Chicago in 1855. As a cabinetmaker and construction engineer, he supervised the raising of many of Chicago's buildings and later developed the first railway sleeping car that was suitable for long distance travel. He also developed the dining car and parlor car through the Pullman Palace Car Company, which was organized in 1867. In 1880, he built a factory on the south side of Chicago and during the heyday of his company, created the model town of Pullman around it.

The small town was located 10 miles outside the city proper, next to the factory. It consisted of 1,800 brick homes, an arcade with a theater, a library, a hotel, stores, a bank, two churches and a school. However, there were no beer gardens or saloons and alcohol was strictly forbidden. The only bar in town was located in the Florence Hotel and was reserved for Pullman and his guests.
Rules in the company town were harsh. Any employee who dropped paper in the street and did not pick it up could be fired. Any tenant could be evicted from his home for any reason, with a 10-day notice. No labor organizers were permitted within the town. No improper books or plays were allowed at the library. In addition, rent was higher than in comparable homes in the city and all gas and water was purchased from the company, who made a profit on it. On payday, all debts owed to the company were automatically deducted from what the employee earned. This debt included rent, water, gas or food from the company store. Some families literally ended up with only few cents left after all of their deductions.

The “perfect” factory town of Pullman

In 1893, Chicago was host to the World's Columbian Exposition and while the fairgrounds may have been dubbed the "White City," the actual city was plunged that year into what has been called the "black winter." One of the nation's recurrent financial panics and depressions struck and in Chicago, people were going hungry and dying from the harsh weather. Soup kitchens were organized and City Hall was used to shelter as many as 2,000 people each night. The saloonkeepers were even doing their part to help, feeding as many as 60,000 jobless men each day. They did so at their own expense since most of the men were unable to afford even the nickel beer that was customary to earn the free lunch.

During this recession, Pullman laid off about one-third of the workforce and wages for those remaining on the job were cut by as much as 40 percent. Many men received nothing, or even went into debt on payday. That winter, some men went so hungry that they fainted on the factory floor. Finally, a delegation of workers went to see George Pullman about the disgraceful conditions. He refused to meet with them and in fact, fired all of them and evicted them from their homes.

An Indiana man named Eugene Debs later became the most successful Socialist candidate for president in American history. Debs organized a group of workers who demanded restoration of their wages from the Pullman Company. Needless to say, the demand was refused. On May 11, 1894, the workers went on strike and Pullman was shut down. Soon, members of the American Railway Union began a sympathy strike, which led to violence across the country. President Grover Cleveland intervened and ordered the strike to end, stating that the railway demonstrations interfered with delivery of the mail. Eugene Debs refused to bow to pressure and he was jailed.

By the middle of May, Pullman families were begging for food. Chicago's mayor sent thousands of dollars in groceries to the company town, spending money from his own pocket. Chicago city leaders and politicians from around the country urged Pullman to settle the strike, but he refused. The union sent him a letter that asked him to meet with the workers, but he would not even open it.

The union then voted to boycott all Pullman cars on the rail lines and refused to handle them. The United States Attorney General, Richard Olney, saw this as a way to end the strike. Thanks to the previous court ruling, the union could not interfere with the delivery of the mail, but the ruling said nothing about other trains. They could refuse to work on any train that was not carrying mail. Soon, the railroads began attaching unnecessary Pullman cars to other trains so that union members would not handle them. In this way, the companies forced the members to break the law by refusing to allow the mail to go through.

Militia units formed at Pullman to quell unrest among the striking workers.

With that accomplished, President Cleveland sent soldiers into Chicago on July 2. It was an act that marked the first time that federal troops had been used to intervene in a labor issue and it was done against the express wishes of Illinois governor John Altgeld, who believed the state could handle the issue. Regardless, it was something that was a long time coming. Following a strike at the McCormick factory in 1885, Marshall Field had proposed establishing a military base near the city so that federal troops would be nearby in case of problems. Business leaders had previously been using Pinkerton agents to break strikes but using the military instead appealed to all of them. With a donation of land on the north shore of Lake Michigan, Fort Highwood (later re-named Fort Sheridan by General Sheridan himself) was established in 1887.

President Grover Cleveland sent Federal troops to Chicago to interfere in the strike, against the wishes of Illinois Governor John Altgeld.

In July 1894, troops from the fort were sent into the south side of the city to control the strikers, who, up until that point, had been peaceful. Angry that troops had been sent in, the workers began to riot. On July 5, seven buildings were burned and the following day, a mob of 6,000 set 700 railway cars on fire. On July 7, another mob attacked a military command post, located at a railroad bridge at 49th and Loomis. The soldiers fired into the crowd, killing four men and wounding another 20. Several soldiers were also killed, including some cavalrymen.

On July 8, more federal troops were sent in to control the violence and the mobs were again ordered to disperse. After more violence, including more railroad cars being overturned and set on fire, the riots finally came to an end. It was estimated that more than $685,000 in damage occurred during the riots and the death toll included 34 members of the American Railway Union.

In the end, the strikes and riots had little effect on the situation at the Pullman plant. The strikers went back to work and the plant re-opened in August. There were scores of new workers on the payroll and each of them had to sign a pledge that they would not join the Union. All of the Union workers who were hired back had to surrender their Union cards. However, many of the men were not hired back.

This prompted Illinois Governor Altgeld, who had fought against federal interference in the strike, to go to Pullman and personally ask that the men be hired back. He arrived in the company town and was taken on a tour by the Pullman Company vice-president. Pullman himself was too busy to entertain him. The idea was to show the governor what a wonderful place the town was. Instead, Altgeld found more than 6,000 people with no food, families living in poverty and women and children in unsuitable living conditions. He was appalled by the place and realized that Pullman was simply oblivious to the lives of his employees. Altgeld returned to Springfield and quickly dispatched a letter. He asked that Pullman hire back all of the replaced workers and in addition, cancel all rents from October 1 so that the workers could get back on their feet. Pullman refused to accept the letter until he was literally forced to take it by an Illinois National Guard officer. Then, of course, he did nothing.

In 1898, the Illinois Supreme Court ordered the company to sell off its housing stock in the town of Pullman, bringing an end to this twisted element of Chicago history.

As for Pullman, his victory in breaking the strike was short-lived. He succeeded in losing the love of his daughters, losing the respect of his workers, and earning the disdain of most of the national press. He died three years later in 1897 and was buried in Graceland Cemetery. His grave was fortified with railroad ties and reinforced concrete so that "radicals, anarchists and embittered workers" would not be able to violate his crypt.

The factory town of Pullman, as well as the Pullman Palace Car Company, was a fading memory for many years, occupied by residents who knew little or nothing about this infamous time from the city's distant past. But recently, the “perfect factory town” was named as a National Historic site and renovations have been started to preserve this piece of Chicago history for the future. One has to wonder what lessons will be learned by future generations from Pullman’s less-than-auspicious past…

Friday, January 16, 2015


The Lingering Ghost of “Ma” Barker

There is a small, rundown house just outside the town of Ocklawaha, Florida that stands as one of the most infamous locations in gangland history. The cottage, on the shores of Lake Weir, stands empty and silent these days, its windows dark and its paint peeling. A few “private property” signs are posted around but it’s not a place where most people would venture. The porch sags and the wooden steps lean precariously to one side but none among the living bother to walk here anymore. This is a place where dark memories linger and where death occurred on January 16, 1935.

It was here that the last stand of the feared Barker gang took place and where “Ma” Barker and her son, Fred, battled it out with G-Men before being shot to death. This horrific battle occurred more than 70 years ago but there are those who claim that it has not yet ended for at least one restless spirit that still resides here in this house.

After Prohibition came to an end and celebrity gangster Al Capone went to prison, the American public needed a new fixation for their fascination with crime. President Roosevelt’s New Deal administration, led by the newly empowered FBI, began a national war on crime to confront the seeming peril of kidnappers and bandit gangs that were terrorizing the Midwest, robbing banks and kidnapping wealthy businessmen for ransom.

The outlaw gangs of the Depression era were largely inventions of the FBI, with two very conspicuous exceptions. The Dillinger Gang, consisting initially of convicts he helped break out of Indiana’s state prison, worked closely as a group until most of the gang was arrested after a hotel fire in Tucson led to them being recognized. After Dillinger’s escape from the Crown Point, Indiana, jail, he was forced to team up with Baby Face Nelson, who had his own band of robbers and had to grudgingly accept being called the Dillinger Gang by the national press. Dillinger’s own criminal career only lasted another four months before he was set up and killed outside the Biograph Theater (or vanished into history, whichever story the reader is inclined to believe).

The only other traditional Depression-era outlaw gang was the one headed by Alvin “Creepy” Karpis and the Barker brothers, mainly Arthur and Fred, and supposedly captained by the notorious “Ma” Barker. Despite kidnappings, burglaries, murders, and dozens of bank, train and payroll robberies starting in the 1920s, the FBI was not even aware of the existence of the Barker gang until an informant passed on information about them in 1934. Their career had spanned the entire “public enemy” era and while the Barkers and Alvin Karpis were the principal members, they often teamed with criminals from other gangs and also worked with organized crime groups in several cities, notably Chicago.

But despite the criminals who came and went, the main members of the Barker-Karpis gang were always the Barkers, who hailed from the backwoods of the Ozark Mountains. The only real mystery about these outlaws was what role “Ma” Barker actually played in the gang. Legend, based largely on FBI publicity reports, has it that she groomed her sons to be lawbreakers and managed their criminal careers, planning the gang’s many crimes. There’s no doubt that she knew of her sons’ activities, which made it necessary to constantly move to avoid the police, but what she did beyond that is open to debate. Alvin Karpis characterized “Ma” as an ignorant hillbilly who traveled with her sons because they were “family” and who often came in handy as camouflage. A later member of the gang, Harvey Bailey, said, “The old woman couldn’t plan breakfast. When we’d sit down to plan a bank job, she go in the other room and listen to Amos ‘n’ Andy or hillbilly music on the radio.” He laughed at the idea of “Ma” Barker as a cunning, ruthless gang leader, plotting their crimes.

J. Edgar Hoover would later call “Ma” Barker “a monument to the evils of parental indulgence” and this may be a little closer to the truth. She seemed to be more along the lines of the mothers of the James boys, the Youngers, the Daltons and the countless other bandit teams of the rural regions than the bloody figure familiar to movie-goers and devotees of crime literature. “Ma” Barker was simply devoted to her sons, whom she chose to believe were driven to their crimes by hard times and persecution by the authorities. She was likely just a non-judgmental matriarch of a clan from the Ozarks whose careers just happened to be in crime.

Had she not died with her son Fred after a gun battle with the FBI, “Ma” Barker might have only received a short jail sentence for harboring her criminal children, as the mothers of Bonnie and Clyde did. But once the Feds ended the siege of their hideout and they discovered that they had killed an old woman who turned out to be “Ma,” the myth-making and villainizing began.

“Ma” Barker was born Arizona Donnie Clark near Ash Grove, in Boone Township, which is northwest of Springfield, Missouri, on October 8, 1873. When she married George Elias Barker in 1892, she listed her name on her marriage license as “Arrie Clark” but somewhere along the line adopted the name of Kate. The Barkers lived at different times in Aurora and on secluded Ozark farms. Between 1893 and 1903, the Barkers had four sons, Herman, Lloyd, Arthur (who went by “Doc”) and Fred. In 1910, they moved to Webb City, near Joplin, and there George found work in the area’s lead and zinc mines and left the care of the children to Kate.

The Barker boys soon gained a reputation for rowdiness and bad behavior and were often accused of stealing and shoplifting. Legend has it that neighbors who complained to George Barker about his sons were simply told, “Talk to Mother. She handles the boys.” Those who dared confront “Ma” were screamed at, called liars and sent on their way. It was said that she had a desperate belief that the community had singled out her sons as scapegoats for every crime committed in town.

On March 5, 1915, Herman Barker was arrested by the Joplin police for highway robbery. Popular accounts say that “Ma” got him released and stated that she could no longer live in such an intolerant town, and moved the whole clan to Tulsa, Oklahoma, – but this is not entirely the truth. Herman actually remained in Missouri and was convicted of burglary the following year but escaped from the Springfield jail. He moved to Billings, Montana, and adopted the alias of Bert Lavender. He was arrested again for burglary and convicted with a sentence of six to twelve years in the state prison at Deer Lodge. He languished in prison until 1920, when he moved to Minnesota with the new alias of Clarence Sharp. He was apparently not a very good burglar because he was arrested and convicted again on the same charge and sentenced to another stretch in the state prison at Stillwater.

The rest of the family did move to Tulsa, probably because Kate’s mother and stepfather were living there. They lived in several different places in Tulsa, often with “Ma’s” family. Before 1918, none of the boys, except Herman, seemed to have serious criminal records. The remaining boys started hanging out with other young troublemakers around the old Lincoln Forsythe School and the Central Park district. They formed the “East Side Gang,” which in time numbered more than 20 young thieves and hoodlums. The gang included Volney “Curly” Davis and Harry Campbell (later important members of the Barker gang) and William “Boxcar” Green. Green would pay a leading role in a mass breakout from Leavenworth Prison in 1931 and then commit suicide rather than be recaptured.

Lloyd Barker actually steered clear of trouble by enlisting in the Army, where she served as a cook until he was mustered out in 1919. But trouble was something that seemed to come looking for his brother, Doc. He was arrested in July 1918 for stealing a government- owned car in Tulsa. Doc escaped but was recaptured in Joplin in 1920 and returned to Tulsa, then escaped again. He was arrested again, using the name Claud Dale, for an attempted bank burglary in Coweta, Oklahoma, and jailed in Muskogee. Ray Terrill was arrested at the same time and both were transferred to McAlester for safekeeping. Doc was later released by court order but Terrill was sentenced to three years for second-degree burglary on March 1, 1923. He was subsequently arrested for other crimes but either escaped or managed to beat the rap.

On August 26, 1921, a night watchman named Thomas J. Sherrill was killed by burglars at the construction site for Tulsa’s St. John’s Hospital. Doc was arrested for the murder, tried and convicted and sentenced to life at McAlester. Nearly a year later, fellow East Side Gang member Volney Davis was also sent up for a life sentence for this same murder. Davis escaped from McAlester in January 1925 but was recaptured just 13 days later in Kansas City.

Lloyd Barker left the Army in 1919 but mostly bummed around until being arrested for vagrancy in 1921. On June 17, with William Green and another man, he robbed a mail truck at Baxter Springs, Kansas, a crime for which he was arrested and convicted. He was sent to Leavenworth for a 25-year sentence and this marked the end of Lloyd’s criminal career. Paroled in 1938, he went straight and re-enlisted in the Army during World War II. He spent the war as a cook at a P.O.W. camp at Fort Custer, Michigan and when it ended, received an honorable discharge. He married and then managed a bar and grill in Denver for many years. In March 1949, his wife killed him with a shotgun at their home in Westminster, Colorado. She was placed in an insane asylum shortly afterwards.

Herman Barker was released from prison in 1925 and formed a small gang, burglarizing banks and stores throughout Oklahoma and the southwest. This group, sometimes known as the Terrill-Barker-Inman gang, included Herman Barker, Ray Terrill, Elmer Inman and others. Their favorite technique, credited to Terrill, was to back a stolen truck up to a bank, haul out the safe with a winch, and then drive away to open it at their convenience. For a time, the gang used the Radium Springs Health Resort near Salina, Oklahoma, as a hideout. Radium Springs was operated by Herman Barker and his common-law wife, Carol, under the names of Mr. and Mrs. J.H. Hamilton, but it was actually owned by Q.P. McGhee, a corrupt former judge from Miami, Oklahoma, who worked with the gang and served as their attorney. McGhee was always around to bail out captured gang members or to gain their release with fraudulent warrants that claimed they were wanted elsewhere. The health resort was heavily armed and fitted with a powerful electric light that was used as a warning beacon in the event of a raid. Safes stolen by the gang were looted and then dumped off a nearby bridge into the Grand River.

Fred Barker soon joined up with his brother at Radium Springs. Fred had been arrested in Miami, Oklahoma, in September 1922 and a month later, was jailed in Tulsa on a charge of vagrancy for 30 days. In June 1923, he was convicted of armed robbery and sentenced to five years at the state reformatory in Granite. Fred was paroled, only to be arrested again for robbing a bank. He was later arrested as a fugitive in Little Rock, Arkansas; for burglary in Ponca City; and was wounded in a gun battle with police in Kansas City. He managed to get away from every one of these scrapes with no jail time, likely thanks to his brother’s friend McGhee, who was often accompanied on his trips by a crooked Miami County deputy. But his luck would not hold out. While using the alias of Ted Murphy, Fred was arrested again in Winfield, Kansas, in November 1926 for burglary and grand larceny. This time, he was convicted and sentenced to a term of five to ten years at the state prison at Lansing.

Earlier, in June 1926, Herman Barker and Elmer Inman were arrested for car theft in Kansas and extradited to Oklahoma, where they were both wanted for robbery. McGhee saw to it that they did not stay in custody for long. Herman, charging with robbing a county attorney in Miami, was released on bond on June 22. Inman was charged with bank and post office robbery in Ketchum, also made bond. Inman was arrested again in Ardmore, Oklahoma, with Ray Terrill, for burglary. Together, they overpowered a jailer on September 27 and escaped. Inman was recaptured on December 27 while burglarizing a store in Oklahoma City. He was convicted and sentenced to seven years in prison but escaped by jumping from a train en route to McAlester on March 17.

During the early morning hours of January 17, 1927, members of the gang attempted to burglarize the First National Bank at Jasper, Missouri, near Joplin. They arrived in two cars and a truck and entered the bank by cutting bars from one of the rear windows. They managed to get the bank’s safe onto a cart and were wheeling it out the back door when a baker, who was coming in to make bread for his business down the street, spotted them and telephoned the night telephone operator, who alerted the town marshall. Police officers from Joplin and Carthage quickly deputized a group of citizens to help apprehend the gang and rushed to the scene. The burglars were forced to abandon the safe and the truck but still managed to escape in their two cars. One of the cars sped west into Kansas. Herman Barker and Ray Terrill were in the other car and they returned to their hideout, a small house at 602 East Main Street in Carterville, Missouri. Unfortunately, the local police had been watching this house, thanks to an anonymous tip that stated that it was “the headquarters of an organized band of outlaws.” A gun battle followed and Barker was wounded and taken into custody, along with Terrill.

Herman was extradited to Fayetteville, Arkansas, on bank robbery charges. Terrill, a McAlester escapee who still owed the state 20 years on his earlier bank robbery conviction, was returned to Oklahoma but escaped again, this time jumping out of a moving car as it neared the prison. On March 30, Herman also escaped by sawing apart the bars of his cell. When he left, he took a suspected forger named Claude Cooper with him.

The gang was soon back to work again. On May 12, they stole a safe containing $207,000 in cash and securities from the state bank at McCune, Kansas. On August 1, a man came into the American National Bank in Cheyenne, Wyoming, and, using the name R.D. Snodgrass, cashed three American Express Travelers checks. “Snodgrass” then left the bank and climbed into a blue Chrysler with Idaho plates. A woman with dark hair was also in the car. The teller quickly identified the checks as having been stolen during a Buffalo, Kansas, bank robbery in December 1926. He chased after “Snodgrass” who hurriedly drove away. “Snodgrass” was actually Herman Barker and the woman who was with him was his wife, Carol. Deputy Sheriff Arthur E. Osborn managed to catch up with the Barkers’ car at Pine Bluffs, about 40 miles east of Cheyenne. As the deputy approached the car, his own gun still holstered, Barker pulled out a .32-caliber automatic and shot the officer two times before speeding away. Osborn was found a half hour later, dead on the side of the highway. At first, his killer was mistakenly identified as Elmer Inman.

On August 29, after robbing an icehouse in Newton, Kansas, Herman Barker and two other men shot it out with police officers in Wichita. During the battle, Herman killed another cop, Patrolman Joseph E. Marshall. Herman was hit several times and was so badly wounded that he shot himself rather than be taken alive. Ray Terrill and Elmer Inman were captured at Hot Springs, Arkansas, on November 26 and were sent to the Oklahoma state prison. Herman’s wife, Carol, subsequently pleaded guilty as an accessory in Deputy Osborn’s murder and admitted that it was Herman, not Elmer Inman, who had killed the officer. She was sentenced to serve two to four years but since Wyoming did not have a place for female prisoners, she was sent to the Colorado state prison in Canon City to serve her time. She was paroled in October 1929 after serving two years. Soon afterward, she was working as a prostitute out of the Carlton Hotel in Sapulpa, Oklahoma, and briefly became the girlfriend of Alvin Karpis. Karpis would later marry her niece, Dorothy Slayman. Karpis left Dorothy in late 1931 and following in her aunt’s footsteps, she became a prostitute.

George and Kate Barker buried Herman at the Williams Timberhill Cemetery near Welch, Oklahoma, where they and Fred would eventually join him. The family plot was purchased for them by McGhee, who would soon be convicted of aiding and abetting Herman Barker and Elmer Inman. Soon after, George left his wife. Apparently, Kate and a friend had been seeing other men in Tulsa. George moved back to Webb City, Missouri, and spent the remainder of his life operating a filling station. Kate took up with an alcoholic sign painter named Arthur Dunlop and they moved into a house in Tulsa together. Dunlop spent more time drinking that painting and, with Herman dead, Kate had little money to live on. After she was released from prison, her daughter-in-law, Carol, supported Kate and bought her groceries. Kate despised Carol, just as she would all the other women in her son’s lives. She constantly did everything she could to discourage and sabotage all of the Barker boys’ relationships with other women. According to Alvin Karpis, “Ma didn’t like female competition. She wanted to be the only woman who counted with her boys.”

Alvin Karpis, who was born in Montreal, Canada, in 1908, met Fred Barker at the Kansas state prison in 1930. While earlier incarcerated at the State Industrial Reformatory in Hutchinson, Kansas, Karpis became a prison protégé of a safe-cracker and cop-killer named Lawrence DeVol. The two escaped from Hutchinson in March 1929 and engaged in a burglary spree. Recaptured in Kansas City in March 1930, Karpis was returned to the reformatory but then was transferred to the penitentiary after three knives were found in his possession. He still managed to earn time off his sentence by working in the prison-owned coal mine. In reality, he hired lifers to work in his place, another trick that he learned from DeVol. Karpis and Fred Barker became close friends and agreed to form a criminal partnership when they were released.

Fred was paroled in March 1931 and Karpis was released a few months later, in May. They contacted Carol and Ma Barker in Tulsa and Ma sent a telegram to Fred, who was living in Joplin with another ex-convict named Jimmie Creighton, who was wanted for kidnapping, robbery and attempted murder. Creighton was also a suspect, with Lawrence DeVol, in the April 1930 murders of two businessmen at the Hotel Severs in Muskogee, Oklahoma. Karpis and Barker went to work burglarizing homes and businesses in the area.

On the night of May 16, Jimmie Creighton shot and killed a local man named Coyne Hatten outside the Morgan Drug Store in Webb City – apparently because Hatten failed to apologize enough for bumping into him on the street. Karpis and Barker fled back to Tulsa in Creighton’s car and Creighton was later convicted and sentenced to life in prison for the murder.

On June 10, Tulsa authorities arrested Fred Barker, Alvin Karpis, Sam Coker and Joe Howard. Karpis was transferred to Henryetta, Oklahoma, to face charges of burglarizing a jewelry store. He returned the stolen jewelry and entered a guilty plea for burglary on September 11. He received a sentence of four years but it was suspended since he had made restitution and had already served three months in the country jail. Barker was transferred to Claremore, Oklahoma, on another burglary charge but escaped on August 16 with several other prisoners. Coker was returned to McAlester to complete a 30-year sentence for bank robbery. Howard was released on bond and disappeared.

Karpis joined Fred and Ma Barker, along with Arthur Dunlop, on a rented farm outside Thayer, Missouri, close to the Arkansas state line. On June 20, Phoenix Donald, who was better known as Bill “Lapland Willie” Weaver, was paroled after serving six years of a life sentence for murder and bank robbery and came to live on his sister’s farm only two miles away from Karpis and the Barkers. On October 7, Karpis, Barker, Weaver and a man named Jimmie Wilson robbed the People’s Bank at Mountain View, Missouri. They made off with $14,000 in cash and securities.

On the night of December 18, a burglary occurred at McCallon’s Clothing Store in West Plains, Missouri. Two strangers had been seen in town that day driving a 1931 DeSoto and were suspicious enough to residents that a couple of them wrote down the car’s license plate number. The following day, three men drove a 1931 DeSoto into the Davidson Motor Garage in town to have two flat tires repaired. A repairman noticed that the tires matched tread marks that had been left by the burglar’s car and he told his boss. The garage owner called Sheriff Roy Kelly and the owner of the clothing store, Clarence McCallon. When they arrived in a police car, the occupants of the DeSoto opened fire on them. Alvin Karpis fired the shots that killed the sheriff, putting four bullets into Kelly’s chest. Barker, armed with a .38-caliber revolver, hit the sheriff in the right arm. Barker and Karpis quickly fled the scene, leaving behind the third occupant of the DeSoto, a college student named J. Richard Gross, whom they had picked up while hitchhiking. He was arrested but later released when it was realized that he had definitely gotten in a car with the wrong people.

Lawmen raided the farm near Thayer, but found that it was abandoned. The house was located on a hill, with a good view in every direction, and was surrounded by barbed wire. The front gate had been fitted with an electric alarm bell that warned the occupants of the house of intruders. Inside, the police found photographs of the Barkers, Karpis and Dunlop, along with letters, including one to Kate from Lloyd Barker in Leavenworth, thanking her for sending Christmas gifts. They also found an interior drawing of the First National Bank of West Plains.

West Plains Police Chief James A. Bridges and Howell County Sheriff Lula Kelly, who succeeded her murdered husband, offered a $1,200 reward -- $500 each for the arrest and conviction of Alvin Karpis and Fred Barker and $100 each for the arrest of “A.W. Dunlop and Old Lady Arrie Barker, Mother of Fred Barker.” This was the first official notice of Ma Barker, who would make no further news until she was killed three years later by federal agents.

The Barkers, Karpis, Weaver and Dunlop deserted the southern Missouri farms and fled to the home of their friend, Herb Farmer, near Joplin. Farmer was an old pal of the Barkers and owned a chicken farm in an isolated, rural area. He was a confidence man with a long record of arrests who reputedly harbored a number of outlaws, including, at one time, Pretty Boy Floyd. Farmer would later serve a term at Alcatraz as one of the Kansas City Massacre conspirators. When the Barker-Karpis gang arrived in Joplin, Farmer suggested that they go to St. Paul and contact Harry Sawyer. Coincidentally, Karpis’ friend, Lawrence DeVol, arrived in St. Paul around this same time. He was on the run after killing a policeman in Kirksville, Missouri, as well as being wanted for murders in Oklahoma, Nebraska and Iowa.

For many years, St. Paul had been a safe town for criminals. Out-of-town fugitives could hide out there without interference from the police, as long as they paid a protection fee and committed no crimes within the city limits. In 1928, the fixer for this system, a bootlegger named “Dapper” Dan Hogan, had been killed by a car bomb and his successor, Harry Sawyer, imposed even fewer restrictions. He no longer enforced the rule about committing crimes within the city limits, as long as he received a cut of the action. The police department was as corrupt as ever and visiting criminals were still safe from arrest. A city that had been safe from crime since the early 1900s was now as dangerous as any other place in America.

After checking in with Sawyer, the Barker-Karpis group rented an apartment at 1031 South Robert Street in West St. Paul. Fred and Karpis again went to work committing small burglaries, thefts and hijackings. In December 1931 and January 1932, they staged carefully planned nighttime raids on the Minnesota towns of Pine River and Cambridge. Several citizens were taken hostage and the gangsters systematically looted a number of major businesses and private homes. In addition, thanks to Harry Sawyer, they also made their most important future business connections.

The formation of the Barker-Karpis Gang, as it was when it began to make headlines, might be dated to the night of December 31, 1931. Karpis and Fred Barker attended a New Year’s Eve party at Harry Sawyer’s Green Lantern Saloon on Wabasha Street, where they met some of the most infamous members of the Midwest’s underworld. They included Minneapolis crime boss Isadore “Kid Cann” Blumenfeld, Capone mobster Gus Winkeler and several leading bank robbers like Harvey Bailey, Tommy Holden, Francis “Jimmy” Keating, “Big Homer” Wilson, and Frank “Jelly” Nash, a former member of the old Al Spencer gang who may have known the Barkers during their younger days in Tulsa.

Nash had escaped from Leavenworth in October 1930, as had Holden and Keating. They each had been sentenced to serve 25-years after a mail train robbery in the Chicago suburb of Evergreen Park. They arrived in Leavenworth in May 1928, where they met Nash and other Spencer gang veterans. They also met a minor Oklahoma bootlegger named George Kelly, who was serving a short sentence for smuggling liquor onto an Indian reservation. Kelly, whose real name was George Barnes, would later make headlines as “Machine Gun” Kelly, but at the time he worked in the photographic section of the prison’s record room. On February 28, 1930, Holden and Keating walked out of Leavenworth, using trusty passes that had been made by Kelly. They fled to Chicago, then to St. Paul, where they were joined later that year by Kelly and Nash.

In St. Paul, Holden and Keating teamed up with Harvey Bailey, who had been committing bank robberies for nearly a decade. A former bootlegger, Bailey had only been arrested once and had never served any prison time. Law enforcement agencies considered him one of the country’s top bank robbers, however, after his suspected involvement in the Denver Mint robbery of 1922. Bailey’s regular associates included “Big Homer” Wilson, another longtime bank robber; Charles Fitzgerald, a criminal in his 60s with ties to the Chicago mob; Verne Miller, a decorated World War I veteran and former South Dakota sheriff turned bootlegger, bank robber and killer, whose increasing mental instability may have eventually led to his murder by other gangsters who were endangered by his erratic behavior and Bernard Phillips, alias “Big Bill” Courtney, a former Chicago policeman who saw more money in being a bandit.

The group formed a gang with a sometimes-floating membership and went on to commit a number of spectacular robberies, cleaning out banks all over Iowa, Nebraska, Texas, Minnesota and Wisconsin. On October 20, 1931, they robbed the Kraft State Bank at Menomonie, Wisconsin, and Cashier James Kraft, the son of the bank’s president, was taken hostage and killed. Two gang members, Charlie Harmon and Frank Weber, were found shot to death after the robbery, their bodies lying in a pool of blood next to that of James Kraft. It is believed that they were shot to death by other gang members for killing the hostage. Harmon’s widow, Paula, who was known as “Fat-Witted,” later hooked up with Fred Barker.

The deaths of Harmon and Weber left vacancies in the gang’s membership and Barker and Karpis soon joined up. On March 29, 1932, they joined Tommy Holden, Bernard Phillips and Lawrence DeVol in the well-executed holdup of the North American Branch of the Northwestern National Bank in Minneapolis. No one was injured or killed and the gang escaped with $266,500 in cash, coins and bonds. They escaped in a fast Lincoln that belonged to an executive of the National Lead Battery Co. of St. Paul. It had been stolen just for this job.

A short time later, Nick Hannegraf, the son of the Barkers’ landlady, recognized Karpis and Fred Barker from their photographs in True Detective magazine and dutifully called the police. St. Paul Police Chief Tom Brown, who was on Harry Sawyer’s payroll, advised Hannegraf to report this at the Central Police Station. The desk sergeant there told Hannegraf that he would have to come back later and see Inspector James Crumley, who also took cash from Sawyer. Seven hours after the first call was made to Brown, St. Paul police officers raided the house on South Robert Street but, of course, the Barkers, Karpis and Arthur Dunlop were long gone. The telephone call likely cost Dunlop his life. His body was found the next day on Lake Fremstadt, near Webster, Wisconsin. He had been shot three times at close range. It was theorized that he was killed by Karpis and Barker because they suspected him of being an informer.

After the police raid, the gang temporarily shifted its base of operations to Kansas City. The Barkers and Karpis stayed at the Longfellow Apartments for a time as “Mrs. A.F. Hunter and sons” then rented an apartment at 414 West Forty-Sixth Terrace. Bailey, Nash, Holden, Keating, Phillips and DeVol also rented apartments nearby. On June 17, they robbed the Citizens National Bank in Fort Scott, Kansas, of $47,000. That same day, a pal of Fred’s named Jess Doyle was released from the Kansas state prison and joined the gang. Some of the proceeds from the bank robbery were spent on a lavish party for Doyle’s prison release at the Barker-Karpis apartment.

On July 7, Kansas City police officers, accompanied by Special Agent Raymond Caffrey of the future FBI (it was still known then as the Justice Department’s Bureau of Investigation), arrested Harvey Bailey, Tommy Holden and Francis Keating on the Old Mission Golf Course after allowing them to play a few holes. Their fourth, gang member Bernard Phillips, escaped to warn the others. Phillips was later suspected of betraying the three captured men, particularly after other gang members learned that he used to be a policeman. Phillips disappeared a year later on a trip to New York with Frank Nash and Verne Miller. He was never seen again.

At the time of the arrest, a Liberty bond from a recent bank robbery was found in Bailey’s pocket and turned over to Fort Scott authorities as evidence for his subsequent trial. Holden and Keating were returned to Leavenworth and the rest of the gang headed back to Minnesota. The Barkers, Karpis and Frank Nash rented a cabin on White Bear Lake. Barker and Karpis then contacted a shady Tulsa attorney named J. Earl Smith, who was retained by the gang to defend Bailey. Smith took the money but never showed up in court and Bailey ended up with a court-appointed lawyer named James G. Sheppard. On August 16, Smith was found shot to death at the Indian Hills Country Club near Tulsa, where he had gone after receiving a mysterious telephone call from an unknown client. The next day, Bailey was sentenced to 10 to 50 years in the Lansing, Kansas, state prison. Bailey later escaped from prison on Memorial Day 1933, along with nine others using smuggled guns. Frank Nash and the Barker-Karpis gang would be erroneously suspected of arranging the jail break, but they had nothing to do with it. Bailey was recaptured after a short bank robbery spree and accused of involvement in the Kansas City Massacre and the kidnapping of an Oklahoma oilman. No solid evidence ever connected him to either crime.

With most of the members now in prison, Fred Barker and Alvin Karpis were left running the gang. On July 25, 1932, Barker, Karpis, DeVol, Jess Doyle and Earl Christman robbed the Cloud County Bank at Concordia, Kansas, and made off with about $250,000 in cash and bonds. On August 18, they pulled a second job at the Second National Bank of Beloit, Wisconsin, for $50,000.

Arthur “Doc” Barker was paroled from his life sentence at McAlester in September 1932 on the condition that he leave Oklahoma forever. He was more than happy to oblige and after a brief stop to visit with his father, he joined the gang in St. Paul. He came along for the next several robberies as the gang hit the State Bank & Trust Co. in Redwood Falls, Minnesota, the Citizens National Bank at Wahpeton, North Dakota, and then a bank in Amboy, Minnesota, where Lawrence DeVol was recognized as one of the gunmen.

Doc Barker wanted to arrange a parole for his pal, Volney Davis, who was still in McAlester for the Sherrill murder. Karpis managed to contact a “big-time operator” in St. Paul who said that he could arrange to get Davis an early release for $1,500. The gang paid the money and unbelievably, Davis, a convicted murderer and former escapee, was released from the Oklahoma state prison in November. He was not paroled but was granted a two-year “leave of absence,” after which he was due to return back to prison in 1934. He must have been laughing all the way to St. Paul, where he joined up with the gang and a short time later, accompanied Ma Barker on a trip to California to visit her sister. Soon after this, Davis’ girlfriend, Edna “The Kissing Bandit” Murray, escaped from the women’s state prison in Jefferson City, Missouri. It was her third prison break. Edna had been serving a 25-year sentence for highway robbery and when Davis learned of her escape, he returned to the Midwest to join her and her teenaged son, Preston Paden.

The Barker-Karpis gang, which now also included Bill Weaver and Verne Miller, robbed the Third Northwestern Bank in Minneapolis on December 16. During the robbery, two policemen and an innocent bystander were killed. They escaped with $22,000 in cash and $92,000 in bonds but the heat from this robbery was tremendous, thanks to the murders. They decided to get out of the area for awhile and Miller returned to Kansas City while the rest of the gang, except for DeVol, drove out to Reno. DeVol stayed behind and went on a drinking binge. While intoxicated, he crashed a party on Grand Avenue in St. Paul and was arrested --- still carrying $17,000 in cash from the robbery. He was convicted of robbery and murder and sentenced to a life term at Stillwater. Three years later, he was transferred to the St. Peter Hospital for the Criminally Insane and escaped with 15 other inmates in June 1936. After a series of crimes, he was killed a month later during a gun battle with police in Enid, Oklahoma.

The gang wintered in Reno and San Francisco and spent most of their time making good contacts in the Reno gambling rackets and other places. It was during this time that Karpis met Illinois prison escapee Lester Gillis, who would become better known under his alias of George “Baby Face” Nelson. Karpis sometimes had dinner with Nelson, his wife, Helen, and their children, Ronald and Darlene, at their apartment in Reno. Both men had grown up in the same part of Chicago and became good friends. Nelson introduced Karpis to the ex-convict owner of a private hospital in Vallejo, California, Thomas “Tobe” Williams. His staff performed illegal abortions and treated Nelson’s wife, Helen, as a regular patient. They also took care of any sick and wounded fugitives under any alias they wanted to use. Karpis had his tonsils removed there in February 1933, just before the gang returned to the Midwest. Another useful contact was Frank Cochran, a Reno airplane mechanic and garage owner who serviced cars for outlaws. He had fitted Nelson’s car with a siren to help him escape from close calls.

In return for the favors that he had done for the gang, Karpis connected Nelson with an experienced gang of bank robbers who were headquartered near Long Beach, Indiana. In the summer of 1933, he joined Eddie Bentz, a semi-retired collector of old books and coins and several younger men, including Tommy Carroll and Homer Van Meter, a prison friend of Dillinger’s, who, along with Dillinger, had recently gotten out of the Michigan City, Indiana prison. It was during this time that Nelson and Dillinger first became acquainted.

The Barker-Karpis Gang returned to St. Paul in February but a month later, moved to Chicago when some of Harry Sawyer’s police contacts informed him that the gang’s apartment was about to be raided. Running low on money, they planned another bank robbery. On April 4, Karpis, Fred and Doc Barker, Frank Nash, Volney Davis, Earl Christman, Jess Doyle and Eddie Green robbed the First National Bank in Fairbury, Nebraska, and managed to get away with $151,350 in cash and bonds. They narrowly escaped after a violent gun battle that left a sheriff’s deputy and two civilians wounded. Earl Christman was also wounded and was taken to Verne Miller’s home in Kansas City. Miller contacted an underworld doctor but Christman died before he could be treated. He was buried by the gang in an unmarked grave outside the city.

Soon after the gang returned to St. Paul, Fred Barker and Alvin Karpis were contacted by bootlegger Jack Peifer and asked to come to a meeting at his Hollyhocks nightclub. Peifer introduced them to two friends, Fred Goetz and Byron “Monty” Bolton, who worked for the Capone Outfit in Chicago and who had allegedly been involved in the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Goetz claimed to be one of the gunmen and Bolton was a lookout for the hit. The two occasionally did freelance work and had a proposition for the Barkers and Karpis. They were hiring help for a kidnapping that Jack Peifer had arranged in St. Paul and wanted the gang in on the job. Barker and Karpis agreed to go along and were joined by Doc and Charles Fitzgerald when they kidnapped William A. Hamm, Jr. on June 15, 1933. Hamm was blindfolded and driven to the Chicago suburb of Bensenville to wait for his family to raise his ransom of $100,000. Hamm later reported that he and the gang spent the next week cooking and playing cards and that he never feared for his life in their presence. In fact, he added, they got along quite well.
On the same day as the Hamm kidnapping, Frank Nash was captured by the FBI in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Two days later, as he was being returned to Leavenworth, Nash and his captors were ambushed at the Union Station in Kansas City. In a release attempt gone wrong, Nash, a federal agent and three other officers were shot to death in what became known as the Kansas City Massacre.

On August 30, 1933, the Barker-Karpis Gang robbed the South St. Paul post office and made off with the Stockyards National Bank payroll, which amounted to $33,000. During the heist, one police officer was killed and another was wounded. A few weeks later, on September 22, the gang pulled another job, this time using a car that had been equipped with smoke-screen and oil-slick devices. They robbed messengers for the Federal Reserve Bank in Chicago, killing another policeman and wrecking their tricked-out automobile in the process. They managed to escape, only to discover that the bags they took contained useless checks. The car was traced to the shop of Joe Bergl at 5346 West Cermak Road in Cicero, right next door to the Cotton Club, which was owned by Ralph Capone. Bergl’s partner in the business turned out to be Gus Winkeler, whose customers, the FBI later learned, included members of the Capone mob and visiting outlaws like “Machine Gun” Kelly. Some had steel plates installed in their cars to protect them from gunfire, while the economy versions of the “bulletproof” car had their trunks and backseats stuffed with thick Chicago telephone directories.

The heat garnered from this attempted robbery sent the gang on another vacation to Reno. When they returned to St. Paul, they were met by an annoyed Harry Sawyer, who felt that he had been shortchanged on the Hamm kidnapping. He convinced the gang to pull another kidnapping, which would be more profitable for him. Their victim was Edward G. Bremer, president of the Commercial State Bank of St. Paul, against whom Sawyer had a personal grudge. Bremer was taken on January 17, 1934 and was also transported to Bensenville, where he was held for nearly a month until his family raised a ransom of $200,000. Things do not go as smoothly as they had with the Hamm kidnapping. Gasoline cans used by the gang were found along the route of the ransom drop and one of them bore the fingerprints of Doc Barker. Flashlights used by the gang as signals at the payoff location were traced to a store in St. Paul, where a clerk recognized Karpis as the man who bought them. Doc Barker and Alvin Karpis were added to the FBI’s “Most Wanted” list. The money from the kidnapping was so hot that the Barkers’ Reno gambling connections wouldn’t launder it, as they had the money from the Hamm abduction. Instead, the money starting turning up in Chicago and several people, including corrupt politician John J. “Boss” McLaughlin, were arrested.

In March 1934, Barker and Karpis paid a visit to Dr. Joseph Moran, Chicago’s leading underworld surgeon. Moran had offices at the notorious Irving Hotel on Irving Park Boulevard, near where the police had failed to trap Dillinger on his way to another doctor’s office the previous November. Once a prominent physician, Moran had served time for one or more botched abortions and, in prison, met some powerful gangsters who set him up as the city’s number one doctor for wounded gangsters, particularly for members of the Outfit. Moran tried to alter the faces of Karpis and Barker through plastic surgery, but didn’t have much success. However, he did manage to remove Karpis’ fingerprints during a painful operation using a scalpel. Moran later came to a bitter end. When he was drunk, which was often, he tended to brag about some of the clients that he worked on and unwisely suggested to some members of the criminal community that his talents were indispensable. As a result, he was taken on a traditional “one-way ride” and his body was buried somewhere in the Chicagoland region.

It was in April of that year that the FBI first really learned about the organized gang that was operated by the Barkers and Alvin Karpis. A former member of the Barker-Karpis gang, who had taken up with Dillinger, named Eddie Green was shot by FBI agents in St. Paul. Before he died, he babbled in delirium for eight days in the hospital, giving details of past crimes as federal agents took notes. His wife, Bessie, who was captured at the same time, also gave up a lot of information to save herself. The Greens gave the FBI the first detailed knowledge of the gang. From Bessie Green, they learned that Karpis and the Barker brothers traveled with a dowdy old woman who (according to FBI notes) “posed” as their mother. This was when Ma Barker entered the picture for the Feds.

By the end of the year, the Barker-Karpis gang was scattered all over the country, trying to stay away from the FBI and still attempting to pass their share of the Bremer ransom. Various gang members were captured and Bremer money turned up as far away as Havana, where Karpis lived for a brief time with his pregnant girlfriend, Dolores Delaney. Dillinger, Pretty Boy Floyd, Bonnie and Clyde and Baby Face Nelson – the most famous “public enemies” in America – were all gunned down and killed in 1934, leaving only the Barker-Karpis Gang on the loose.

J. Edgar Hoover was desperate to bring these bandits to justice and the FBI’s desperation had led tragic mistakes in the past, especially at Little Bohemia when Melvin Purvis was trying to track down the Dillinger gang. On January 8, 1935, they almost made another terrible mistake in Chicago. On that morning, an army of agents raided a courtyard apartment building at 3920 North Pine Grove, without alerting the Chicago police. They caused such a commotion with gas and gunfire that city cops rushed to the scene, unaware of what was going on. A general bloodbath was narrowly averted by the arrival of the cops, who discovered that the feds had lobbed tear-gas shells into the wrong apartment. When their mistake was realized, the agents launched an assault on the right place and Byron Bolton, Clara Fisher Gibson, and Ruth Heidt, widow of a recently murdered gang member, surrendered as soon as they could. However, Clara’s husband, Russell Gibson, chose to fight. He put on a bulletproof vest, armed himself with an automatic rifle and a .32-caliber pistol and tried to escape out the back of the building. Gibson barely made it onto a fire escape before an FBI agent with a Winchester rifle put a bullet into his chest. He died a short time later. Gibson, who had joined the gang as a money-passer after the Bremer kidnapping, had been wanted since 1929 for a bank messenger robbery in Oklahoma City.

Earlier on the same day as the battle on Pine Grove Avenue, which angered the Chicago police along with the newspapers, Doc Barker and his girlfriend, Mildred Kuhlman, were arrested by FBI agents outside their apartment at 432 Surf Street. Inside, agents found a map of Florida with the region around Ocala circled. Doc refused to say what the mark on the map meant but Byron Bolton later told his interrogators that Ma and Fred Barker, and possibly other gang members, were living next to a lake in Florida.

Eight days later, on January 16, 1935, a small army of federal agents surrounded a house that was located on Lake Weir in Ocklawaha, Florida, and ordered the occupants of the place to surrender. The only reply they received was a hail of machine gun fire, so the agents opened up on the house. During what became a prolonged battle, the feds poured more than 1,500 rounds into the two-story house. About 45 minutes after all return fire had ceased, Inspector J.E. Connelly sent Willie Woodbury, the Barkers’ black handyman (whom the Barkers would presumably spare) into the house to see if any of the occupants were still alive. After cautiously going inside, Woodbury found Fred Barker dead in an upstairs bedroom with 14 bullet holes in his body. Ma Barker was found nearby, also dead. She had been shot three times.

The bodies of Fred Barker and his mother, Kate

According to J. Edgar Hoover’s publicity machine, a Thompson machine gun was found on the floor between Ma and Fred (although it would later be claimed that it was planted there by FBI agents to justify the murder of Ma Barker). The newspapers, using Hoover’s account, embellished the story and armed Ma with a “smoking machine gun.” Hoover stated that Fred had given her the Thompson and kept another for himself. Agents also found two shotguns, two .45 automatics, a .380 automatic, a Winchester rifle, a large quantity of ammunition, several bulletproof vests and $14,293 in cash in the house. The arsenal was carefully arranged on the front steps so that newspaper photographers and reporters would be able to get a good look.

The bodies of the Barkers remained in the Ocala morgue until October, when George Barker was finally able to get together enough money to have them shipped home. Later, he successfully sued for the recovery of the cash seized after the battle, because the government could not prove that any of it was ransom money.

Doc Barker and other members of the gang were convicted for the Bremer kidnapping and sentenced to life in prison, partly on the testimony of Byron Bolton, who took a deal for the Bremer and Hamm abductions and received concurrent sentences of three to five years. Doc was sent to Leavenworth and then Alcatraz. On Friday, January 13, 1939, he was shot to death by guards as he attempted to escape from the island prison using a crude raft. He was buried at Olivet Memorial Park Cemetery in Colma, California, identified by only his prison number. He remains there today, even though a marker with his name on it can be found in the Barker plot at Williams Timberhill Cemetery in Oklahoma.

After the killing of Ma and Fred Barker, Alvin Karpis and Harry Campbell fled to Atlantic City. They were cornered by police at the Dan-Mor Hotel on January 20, 1935, but managed to shoot their way out and escape. Their girlfriends, Dolores Delaney and Wynona Burdette, were captured and sentenced to five years in prison for harboring fugitives. Dolores gave birth to a son while in prison, named him Raymond Alvin Karpis, and gave him to Karpis’ parents in Chicago to take care of.

Karpis and Campbell kidnapped a doctor in Pennsylvania and stole his car, releasing him unharmed in Ohio and dumping the car in Michigan. They later organized a new gang and committed several mail robberies in Ohio before the FBI finally caught up with Karpis. He was staying in a rooming house in New Orleans when he was finally arrested by J. Edgar Hoover himself. Stung by the criticism that he lacked police experience and let his men take all of the risks, the FBI director rushed to New Orleans by airplane and took personal credit for arresting Karpis on May 1, 1936. Karpis later remarked that Hoover stayed safely out of range until agents were holding him at gunpoint, then he took charge for the benefit of the newspapers. Since no one remembered to bring handcuffs for Hoover’s “big arrest,” Karpis’ hands were bound together with Agent Clarence Hurt’s necktie. As he was led away, Karpis jokingly offered to give agents directions to the federal building, claiming that he had planned to rob the post office there. Hoover was not amused.

Alvin Karpis was flown to St. Paul, where he entered a guilty plea for the Hamm kidnapping and received a life sentence. He spent the next 33 years in federal prisons, mostly Alcatraz, before he was paroled in 1969 and deported to Canada. He later moved to Spain and died there in April 1979 from an overdose of sleeping pills that was probably accidental.

Karpis was the last outlaw of the period to be captured and his trial marked the end of what most Americans thought of as the era of the “public enemy.” For at least one unquiet spirit, though, the era of the depression bandits had never really come to an end – it continues on today as the events from a fatal day in 1935 replay themselves over and over again at a small house in Florida.

According to local legend, the ghost of Ma Barker still maintains a presence at the bullet-riddled house on Lake Weir in Ocklawaha. Not only have an old woman’s cries of desperation been reported coming from inside the house, but some curiosity-seekers claim they have actually seen Ma’s face as she peers out the windows, perhaps frantically still watching for the scores of FBI agents who ended her life and that of her beloved son on that January day. Those who report that they have seen this shadowy figure behind the glass initially believe that someone is inside the house, perhaps a fellow tourist or macabre souvenir-seeker. Once they realize that no one ever comes out the door, they slowly realize that the person they have seen is an otherworldly occupant of the dwelling.

And she is one who will likely remain here for many years to come.

Friday, January 2, 2015


The Haunting Tale of Missouri’s Young Brothers

During the days of the Depression, stories of bank robbers like John Dillinger were splashed across the newspapers of America, making exciting reading for those who wanted to turn killers who got revenge on the banks who’d ruined so many people’s lives into heroic figures. But the story of the Young Brothers – and the deadly shootout in which they were involved in 1932 – was not a tale of folk heroes and bank robbers. It was a story of desperation, greed and horror, but strangely, it is rarely mentioned in the chronicles of the “Public Enemy Era” of the 1930s and was never widely known outside of the Ozarks region. It’s a tragically overlooked tale of violence, death, bloodshed – and ghosts.

The Young Brothers – Paul, Jennings and Harry – grew up on a small, 100-acre farm outside of Brookline, which was just southwest of Springfield. They were raised by a hard-working Christian couple, James David and Willie Florence Young, who undoubtedly hung their head in shame as three of their 11 children turned to a life of a crime.

The three brothers, who dubbed themselves the “Young Triumvirate,” seemed to be born under a bad sign. Juvenile delinquents who grew up to be petty criminals, they flaunted their disrespect for the law and despite a string of robberies and assaults, law enforcement seemed unable to pin anything solid on them. That changed in 1919 when Paul and Jennings broke into a small-town store outside Springfield and were quickly arrested with stolen merchandise. In light of the overwhelming evidence, they confessed to the theft and were sent to the state penitentiary in Jefferson City.

The pair was indifferent to the pain and humiliation they caused their family. James Young was inconsolable over the actions of his sons. It seemed that the burden of his sons was too much for him to bear and he grew sick and died while they were in prison. Only Mrs. Young continued to defend them, claiming that they were framed for the crime and didn’t deserve to be in prison. This continued for years. At one point, Mrs. Young was nearly arrested after police officers found stolen merchandise in her home. She claimed she knew nothing of the items (tires and rugs) stored in the farm house and Jennings stepped up and admitted to the crime so that his mother wouldn’t be charged with possession of stolen merchandise. While he was in prison, Paul and Harry committed numerous robberies and burglaries. Harry was back in the penitentiary in 1927, but soon all three were free again.

On June 2, 1929, Harry was driving recklessly through the town of Republic and was pulled over by City Marshal Mark Noe for drunk driving. Marshal Noe’s body was found outside of town in a ditch the following day – and one of the Young brothers graduated from small-time robberies to the murder of a police officer. Harry’s name and face were put out over the wire and he was hunted for over a year by officials throughout the United States and Canada. Somehow, though, he managed to elude capture, even though he returned to Missouri and went back to law-breaking with his brothers.

By Thanksgiving 1931, Paul and Jennings had joined their brother on the wanted list for stealing cars and taking them over state lines. Federal warrants were issued, along with state warrants for theft and Harry’s outstanding warrant for the murder of Mark Noe. Greene County Sheriff Marcell Hendrix made sure that word got back to the Young farm that he was tired of looking for Harry and believed that he had left the country for Mexico. Sheriff’s deputies and police officers from Springfield began staking out the Young family farm, believing that the brothers were occasionally returning home to see their mother. They were careful not to tip off Mrs. Young, who they were convinced would tell the boys that the police were watching.

In the meantime, the investigation into the Youngs’ activities continued. Federal and state officers in Oklahoma and Texas had linked the Youngs to stolen cars in Missouri, Kansas, Arkansas, Iowa and Illinois, making up a car theft ring that was more elaborate than the authorities had ever seen up until that time. Despite the fact that the stake-out at the Young farm heated up, officers narrowly missed a visit by Jennings to the farm a few days after Thanksgiving. He allegedly passed through in a stolen Illinois car, headed for Texas. He may have stopped in again on his trip back north, but the authorities missed him again.
On Saturday, January 2, 1932, evidence indicated that Jennings -- and probably Paul and Harry -- were at the family farm. Since the farm was outside Springfield city limits, Chief of Police Ed Waddle handed the matter off to county authorities. Sheriff Hendrix organized the raid, gathering ammunition, as well as deputies and detectives. A total of 11 police officers went to Brookline and the Young family farm that day. Hendrix had been a friend and neighbor of the Young family for many years and did not believe the boys would hurt him, which is likely why no one contacted federal agents to assist in the arrests.

When the officers arrived at the farmhouse, they milled about for a few minutes, banging on doors and yelling for the brothers to come out. They thought they heard noises inside, but no one answered their calls. It was soon agreed that the men would fan out in front of the house, fire a gas canister into one of the upstairs windows and, after the gas had time to saturate the upper floor, the sheriff and a few others would force their way into the back door and flush the brothers out the front, where officers would be waiting. A detective fired a gas canister into an upstairs window while the other officers waited a few minutes before taking their assigned positions.

Sheriff Hendrix and Deputy Wiley Mashburn, accompanied by Detective Virgil Johnson, left the southeast corner of the house and walked to the kitchen door in the rear. In order to cover them, Chief of Detectives Tony Oliver waited out of sight behind a tree on the outside of a small lawn fence. Patrolman Charles Houser stood unprotected by the lawn gate. Detective Sid Meadows waited behind a tree outside of the lawn fence on the north side so that he could seeing anyone exiting on the northwest side of the house. Detective Ben Bilyeu stood in the open, near Tony Oliver. Detective Frank Pike and a civilian who came along for assistance, R.G. Wegman, were assigned to remain behind the officer’s cars so that they could cover the barn and shed. Detective Owen Brown and Deputy Ollie Crosswhite were at the northeast corner of the house so that Crosswhite could see into the downstairs windows. Essentially, the lawmen had the house surrounded, but they were unprepared for what happened next. 

Sheriff Hendrix banged loudly on the kitchen door. He, along with Deputy Mashburn, called out several times for the Young brothers to come out, unarmed and with their hands raised. There was no response from the house so the officers decided to kick the door open. Johnson forced the door from the center, with Hendrix and Mashburn on either side of him. The door creaked when the three men slammed into it and then crashed partway open. Mashburn raised his revolver and took one step inside. Suddenly, a shotgun roared in the kitchen and a blast of bird shot hot Mashburn in the face, ripping his skin apart and blowing both of his eyes out of their sockets!

Hendrix yelled and shoved into the opening left by Mashburn, just as the mortally wounded deputy was staggering backward onto the concrete sidewalk in back of the house. Another blast came from the shotgun inside, hitting Hendrix in the upper part of the right shoulder, just under his collarbone. The shot tore a ragged hole between his first and second ribs and tore open his chest. Hendrix fell to his knees, but did not collapse.

Deputy Mashburn, who was somehow still standing, continued to stagger backward. He swayed and stumbled and then fell down, cracking his head on the concrete. His body convulsed with pain as his hands fumbled over the bloody ruin of his face.  

Sheriff Hendrix must have seen his killer as he fell to his knees in the kitchen because he raised his gun to fire. But his torn muscles refused to function and the gun slipped from his fingers. He did not retreat. Instead, without saying a word, he crawled forward on the linoleum floor, inching his way forward in a growing puddle of his own blood, until he died at the feet of his murderer. Hendrix had come as a neighbor and friend to peacefully arrest the law-breaking sons of an honest and upright man, only to be gunned down by those sons for his generous efforts.

Detective Johnson, who had taken cover at the first shots, ran for the front of the house as Chief Oliver yelled to the others that Hendrix and Mashburn has been shot. Johnson turned at the gate and prepared to fire another gas canister into the house. He aimed and pulled the trigger, but it refused to fire. In his haste, he realized that the chamber had not been closed. He slammed it shut and raised the gun, but before he could fire it, it went off unexpectedly and sent the canister wide of its mark. It hit the outside of the house, bounced off and fell onto the front porch roof, where it started to burn. Johnson turned to Oliver and shouted that he had no more gas canisters.

Oliver instructed Johnson, along with the other officers, to take cover, have their guns loaded and extra ammunition at hand. He feared that a long and bloody siege was at hand. Deputy Crosswhite suggested that Oliver send someone to get long guns – rifles and shotguns – and to bring more gas and bullets. Oliver sent Johnson for ammunition and reinforcements and the detective made his way behind some trees to his car.

Just as he was backing up to turn around, Detective Bilyeu and the only civilian on the scene, R.G. Wegman, scrambled into the backseat. The gunmen inside of the house had come to the front room, likely wearing bullet-proof vests, and when they saw the three men starting to drive away, they opened fire on the car. Two bullets shattered the windshield, narrowing missing Johnson’s head, and exited through an open window. Three or four shotgun blasts from the house blew out the rest of the glass in the car and wounded Johnson. In spite of his injuries, he sped away toward Springfield to get more help.

When the men inside of the house opened fire on the automobile, Chief Oliver yelled for his men to fire into every downstairs window. In between shots, Patrolman Houser looked around for better cover and spotting a large tree across the yard, he made a run for it. As he slowed to peer around the front of the house to see if it was safe, a bullet that was fired from a south window hit him in the forehead. His head blew apart as the bullet plowed through his skull. “My God!” he shouted and fell to the ground with his legs and arms outstretched. He was likely dead before completed his fall.

The killers returned to the kitchen to try and escape the house. One of them peered out the back window and was spotted by Crosswhite, who opened fire until his gun was empty. One of the Young brothers, firing with a rifle, went to the dining room window and standing on a chair, fired at Crosswhite to keep his pinned down as one of his brothers slipped out the back door, crept up behind the deputy with a shotgun and blasted him point-blank in the back of the head. Crosswhite was killed instantly.

Chief Oliver, while continuing to fire at the house, looked over and saw that Detective Sid Meadows was dangerously exposed. He ordered him to fall back. Meadows replied that he was out of ammunition, putting his hands in his pockets, hoping to find a stray bullet or two. Moments later, shots were fired at Meadows, splintering the tree he was hiding behind. Again Oliver ordered Meadows to fall back, trying to cover him by firing round after round with his pistol toward the house. Meadows started to move, leaning cautiously around the trunk of the tree, looking for his break. As he stuck his head out, a bullet from the house hit him just above his right eye. His head snapped back and he fell to the ground. He also died instantly.

Detective Pike leaned out from behind his tree and sent a steady roar of bullets into the house. He was answered by several shotgun blasts from a north window. Most of the shot went wild, but several pellets struck Pike in the left arm. Fearing that they were all going to be killed, Chief Oliver ordered Pike and Brown to make a run for the barn.

Before he could move, Oliver became the target for the shots from the house. The tree where he hid was ripped apart by shotgun blasts and he took a step backward to keep splinters from spraying into his eyes and he was hit hard by another blast, which ripped apart his heavy overcoat and clothing and tore into his flesh. In pain, he forgot his perilous position and stepped to the right, exposing that side of his body. He was struck by a rifle bullet, but did not fall. Bleeding badly, and struggling to stay upright, he ran for the cover of a nearby automobile. A second bullet hit him in the back, entering just below his left shoulder and bursting outward from his chest. Oliver pitched forward, sprawling in the dust next to the patrol car. He died painfully, slowly bleeding out as his chest cavity filled with blood.

Only two officers remained alive, Detectives Owen Brown and Frank Pike. They heard a yell from the house: “Lay down your guns and come up! We’ve killed the others!”

Both men refused to answer the killer’s demands but knew that they were now hopelessly outnumbered and outgunned. They had no choice but to run for their lives.

With all of the lawmen either dead, dying or running away, the killers – suspected to be Jennings and Harry – came out into the yard. They yanked the spark-plug wires from the sheriff’s car, grabbed what guns they could easily find, and went back into the house. The searched the sheriff’s body, which was lying in the kitchen, and found his wallet, which had several hundred dollars in it. They hurriedly packed some clothes, along with five stolen revolvers, a rifle, a shotgun and dozens of rounds of ammunition and shotgun shells, into two traveling bags and began running. Investigators later believed that they fled through cornfields and orchards on foot, escaping in a northwest direction.

When Johnson returned with additional officers, weapons and ammunition, he could scarcely believe the horrific scene. Dead and dying men were strewn about the farm and the killers had escaped. Detectives Brown and Pike were soon located and Pike’s wounds were treated. Despite the seriousness of his wounds, Deputy Mashburn was still alive when Johnson returned, but he died later that evening.
This brought the death toll to six – a record number of lawmen killed during one incident.

Many would find it hard to believe that just two men had held off the raid and killed six lawmen, but both were considered to be expert marksmen. They also had the high ground from the second floor of the house and considering that the police officers, armed only with pistols, were poorly prepared for a shootout and had little cover in the yard outside of the house, it was feasible that two men could carry out the massacre.

A full-scale investigation was launched into the shootout, as was a nationwide manhunt for the perpetrators. Another of the Young brothers, Oscar, confirmed to lawmen that Harry and Jennings were the only two family members at the house that fateful day. Despite rumors that famous bank robber “Pretty Boy” Floyd was at the Young farm that day, it was later determined that he was in Texas at the time of the massacre. The hunt was on for the Young brothers, but with no solid leads, the authorities had to wait for them to resurface.

They soon turned up in Texas, identified after wrecking the car they were driving. But the real break in the case came about because of a nosy telephone operator.

Mrs. A.E. Gaddy, a local operator, overhead a conversation with the sheriff’s department about the wrecked car, but she said nothing about it to her family. Later that evening, her son was listening to a radio broadcast on station KMOX out of St. Louis and heard a story about the massacre in Brookline. The story included descriptions of Jennings and Harry Young. When he mentioned it to his mother, she instantly remembered the overheard conversation to the sheriff’s department. She told her son about it and out of curiosity, the young man called the farmer who picked up the men from the wreck to get descriptions of the two men. After talking with him, he became convinced that the occupants of the wrecked car were Jennings and Harry. He immediately contacted Prosecutor Dan Nee in Springfield and explained the situation.

At the time of Gaddy’s call, which was just 24 hours after the massacre, Nee, his assistant Horn Bostel, Federal agents Burger and DeMoss and three Frisco Railway detectives, Wilson, Nolan and Arndt, were questioning Mrs. Young and her two daughters, Lorna and Vinita, about the events at the farm. The three women said that they had been away visiting relatives when the massacre took place.

Nee gladly took Gaddy’s call and was convinced that the possible lead was worth checking out. He phoned the Navarro County officials and from them, he obtained the serial numbers on the guns. Nee knew that the brothers had connections in Houston and other Texas cities, where they operated their auto theft ring. Even though it was late, he and the other investigators began wiring and calling law enforcement agencies in south Texas to be on the lookout for Harry and Jennings Young.

Early the next morning, Nee and his men learned that the two occupants of the wrecked car had hitched a ride from the scene of the accident and told driver Isaac Levy that they were anxious to get to Houston. He was certain that they were on the trail of the Young brothers. The prosecutor pushed Texas officials even harder in his efforts to get them to use every possible resource to apprehend the murderers.

By Sunday night, the Youngs had arrived in Houston and managed to stay hidden, despite the local police pulling out all stops to find them. Lawmen raided the known hangouts of the Young brothers and questioned their friends and associates, but no one seemed to know where they were. Despite the heat that was placed upon them, Harry and Jennings managed to stay one step ahead of detectives and elude capture. Additionally, the bags of clothing and stolen guns, which they had packed and then left behind at their mother’s house, somehow found their way to Houston and were retrieved by the brothers at some point on Monday. It was later suspected that their brother Paul may have gotten the bags from Missouri to Texas without being detected. Detectives quickly learned that it was not just Mrs. Young who was trying to keep the brothers out of prison.

On Monday afternoon, a Houston police officer believed that he spotted Harry Young, but lost him in a crowd. Early on Tuesday morning, January 5, a carpenter named J.F. Tomlinson called the police to report that he had seen pictures of the Youngs in the morning newspaper and that they resembled the men he had rented a room to the previous afternoon – and they were sleeping in his house at that moment.

Police officials quickly put men into action and gathered there near Tomlinson’s home. They made hurried plans to raid the carpenter’s small bungalow and capture the Youngs, dead or alive. They moved in on the house shortly after 9:00 a.m., surrounding the place with lawmen armed with every conceivable type of weapon, including handguns, rifles, gas grenades, smoke bombs and Thompson machine-guns.

Lieutenant Claude Beverly of the Magnolia Park substation was placed in charge of the raid. He led the way to the front door, grabbed the doorknob and pushed into the house, followed closely by Officers Peyton and Bradshaw. Tear gas canisters were hurled through a rear window into the bedroom where the outlaws were believed to be sleeping and then tossed into the front room of the house. Allowing time for the gas to spread through the rooms, Beverly walked down the hall and found another visitor to the house, who was handcuffed and taken outside. Beverly and Peyton continued to the rear bedroom door, threw it open and stormed inside – to find it empty. The Youngs were not in bed, or hiding beneath it. The closet was empty. One of the officers then stepped toward the bathroom door, turned the knob and started to open it, just as three blasts hit the other side of the door, barely missing the lawmen. They retreated to the kitchen and positioned themselves so that they could see the bathroom door. Things were eerily still for a moment and then the bathroom door opened slightly and one of the Youngs peeked out.

Beverly fired point blank at the face with a sawed-off shotgun. The door slammed shut and from inside the bathroom, several shots rang out. Someone behind the door shouted, “We’re dead – come and get us!” Suspecting a trap, Beverly kept his men back until another gas canister could be tossed inside. Then, they unlatched the door and pushed. It stuck before it could be opened all of the way, but once they pushed on it, the barricade moved inside. A body had been blocking the door. When they got into the bathroom, they found Jennings Young lying dead in a pool of blood. Harry Young was bleeding badly, but he was still breathing. The two of them had shot each other so that they could never be taken alive.

Harry Young was placed in an ambulance and rushed to St. Joseph’s Infirmary, where he died soon after arriving. He did not regain consciousness on the way to the hospital so the detectives that accompanied him were unable to get a deathbed statement from him. It’s unlikely that he would have made one anyway. The Youngs were merciless killers and never regretted the crimes they had committed or the destruction they caused to their family.

The two men were laid out on cold slabs in the Houston morgue, 700 miles from Springfield, where widows and fatherless children were mourning the loss of their husbands and fathers at the hands of the now deceased outlaws. There was no rejoicing in the Ozarks over the bloody end of Harry and Jennings Young, but the final act was over and the Youngs had come to a rather inglorious end.

The story of the Young brothers became little more than a forgotten footnote in the annals of Depression-era crime. Outside of the Ozarks, few people ever heard of the infamous brothers and the deadly massacre that claimed the lives of six policemen in 1932. Strangely, though, reports from what was once the Young family farm seemed to determine to make sure that the bloody day was not entirely forgotten.

According to subsequent owners of the farm house, strange happenings began taking place not long after the Young family moved out of the house. After the massacre, the house was repaired and the damage from countless bullet holes was covered over and hidden away, just like local memories of that horrible afternoon. The house was eventually sold and new families moved in over the years, almost every one of them encountering what seemed to be echoes of the house’s past.
Bizarre temperature drops were common in the house, as were knocking and banging sounds on the walls, thudding footsteps in empty rooms, voices and music that seemed to come from nowhere and feelings as if the residents were being watched. On several occasions, a woman who lived in the house complained of seeing faces looking in the window. When investigated, no one was ever there – including one winter’s night when there was snow on the ground. She knew that a man in an old-fashioned, fedora-type hat had been looking in the window, but when her husband went outside to look, he found no man – and no footprints on the snowy ground. Could this be a paranormal recreation of police detectives looking into the windows, trying to find out where the Young brothers were?

All of the odd happenings in the house seemed to be little more than memories of the past, replaying themselves over and over again, except for one report, which told of something a little more frightening. On several occasions, a woman who once lobed in the house stated that she had awakened on several occasions to find a dark figure standing at the end of her bed. When she tried to move, the figure grabbed hold of her legs and wouldn’t allow her to move. Then, he vanished and she was free. She later said that she would have believed that she dreamed the entire incident, if not for the fact that she woke the next morning to find dark bruises on her legs that looked exactly like handprints!

What haunted the old Young brothers farmhouse? Was it merely a bit of bad energy left behind at a place where men fought, killed and died? Or was it something else? Had the ghosts of the Youngs returned to prey on the living, just as they had when alive, or were they returning in despair to the one place where they had felt safe in life? A place where their mother always protected them?

That troubling question remains unanswered.