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Bonnie Parker

Bonnie Parker was a notorious American outlaw, bank robber, and member (with Clyde Barrow) of the infamous Barrow gang.

Even before their crimes were immortalized on film, the story of Bonnie and Clyde's criminal exploits had fascinated the public.

The popular image of Bonnie and Clyde was fixed when her life as an outlaw was told in the 1967 motion picture Bonnie and Clyde. Faye Dunaway portrayed her, with Warren Beatty taking on the role of her partner in crime, Clyde Barrow.

Bonnie Parker
Bonnie Parker
Biographical fast facts

Full or original name at birth: Bonnie Elizabeth Parker

Date and place of birth: October 1, 1910, Rowena, Texas, U.S.A.

Date, time, place and cause of death: May 23, 1934, at 9:15 a.m., State Highway 154, near Gibsland, Louisiana, U.S.A. (Justifiable homicide - Killed in a police ambush)

Marriage
Spouse: Roy Glyn Thornton (m. September 25, 1926 - May 23, 1934) (her death)

Family/Relatives
Siblings: Hubert "Buster" Parker (older brother)
Billie Jean Parker (younger sister)

Parents
Father: Charles Parker (a bricklayer)
Mother: Emma Krause Parker (a seamstress)

Burial site: Crown Hill Memorial Park, 9700 Webb Chapel Road, Dallas, Texas, U.S.A.


Biography

Bonnie Parker was the third child of Charles Parker and Emma Krause Parker. Their first born, Coley, died of crib death. Bonnie had an older brother, Hubert "Buster" Parker, and a younger sister, Billie Jean Parker.

In 1914, her father died unexpectedly, forcing her mother to move the family to Cement City (now part of Dallas). By all accounts, Bonnie did well scholastically. She showed an aptitude for creative writing, and was on the honor roll in high school. Bonnie had aspirations to be a singer, an actress or poet. She would later succeed in getting her poetry before the masses, but only as a consequence of her later crimes.

She was just fifteen at the time of her 1926 marriage to Roy Thornton. It was a tumultuous union, as noted in her diaries. She notes that Roy disappeared without a word for days on end on three occasions. She acknowledges her, "roaming husband," and on the occurrence of his third disappearance, she notes that it will be the last. She vowed not to take him back, and when he finally did return early in 1929, she sent him packing, though she refused to divorce him.

Bonnie worked as a waitress at Marco's Cafe on Main Street, in downtown Dallas, followed by a stint at The American Cafe, adjacent to the old Texas Hotel on Houston Street. She was one of the more popular waitresses, and well-liked by most folks. In January 1930, she met Clyde Barrow. Within weeks he was sent to prison for several past crimes. Head over heels for her new love, it didn't take much convincing to persuade Bonnie to smuggle a pistol into prison so Clyde could participate in a jailbreak. He successfully broke out of jail, but was ultimately recaptured after committing a series of new crimes. After intense lobbying by his mother, Clyde was released from prison on February 2nd, 1932. Before long, he had returned to his old ways. But this time, Bonnie was at his side as his partner in crime.

Bonnie and Clyde made national headlines after committing a series of violent armed bank robberies, and holdups throughout the U.S. Southwest and Midwest in 1932. Their crimes and exploits continued to fascinate the public for the next two years. Their deaths while on the run from police only served to heighten public interest in the case. Subsequent retelling of their story has continued to captivate readers and moviegoers for decades.

It's nearly impossible to get an exact account of the number of bank robberies, gas station and market holdups, and murders, Bonnie and Clyde committed. There were several times that crimes were attributed to them, while documentation clearly placed them hundreds of miles away, usually committing other crimes before multiple eyewitnesses. It is likely the Barrow gang was responsible for thirteen homicides. While she certainly was an active participant in numerous crimes, most historians agree that Bonnie was never directly responsible for any of the murders Clyde and other members of the Barrow gang committed.

During their crime spree, Bonnie wrote The Story of Bonnie and Clyde and Suicide Sal, which remain her best known poems. (The full text of the aforementioned poems, appear at the bottom of this profile.)

Contrary to their image as modern-day Robin Hoods, Bonnie and Clyde and the Barrow gang did not just rob large, faceless corporate banks, but far more often, committed armed robberies of fruit stands, filling stations, and any small convenience store along their route of travel. Even their numerous bank robberies tended to be of small-town banks who were struggling in the midst of the Great Depression. Unlike the Robin Hood legend, their motivation was personal greed, not any great altruistic agenda. Widespread press coverage, and their continuing evasion of capture, made them one of the first celebrity criminals of the modern era.

Over time, a glamorous, romanticized image of Bonnie and Clyde has developed, helped in no small measure by their portrayal in various films. The most celebrated of these was the 1967 film Bonnie and Clyde starring Warren Beatty, and Faye Dunaway. The 1958 movie The Bonnie Parker Story, starred Dorothy Provine, and as the title suggests, focused on Bonnie's exploits. A 1992 TV-movie, Bonnie & Clyde: The True Story, starred Dana Ashbrook, Tracey Needham, Doug Savant and Billy Morrissette, and offered a less romanticized version of the Bonnie and Clyde story that was a little closer to, "The True Story," than director Arthur Penn's classic 1967 version. Nonetheless, Clyde Barrow and Bonnie Parker were both little more than small-time crooks, and bank robbers who displayed little or no social conscience or remorse. After successfully evading capture for more than two years, they were killed in a barrage of bullets in a police ambush.


The Story of Bonnie and Clyde
by Bonnie Parker

You've read the story of Jesse James -
Of how he lived and died.
If you're still in need of something to read,
Here's the story of Bonnie and Clyde.

Now Bonnie and Clyde are the Barrow gang.
I'm sure you all have read
How they rob and steal, and those who squeal
Are usually found dying or dead.

There's lots of untruths to these write-ups;
They're not so ruthless as that.
Their nature is raw, they hate the law -
The stool pigeons, spotters, and rats.

They call them cold-blooded killers,
They say they are heartless and mean,
But I say this with pride, that I once knew Clyde
When he was honest and upright and clean.

But the laws fooled around, kept taking him down
And locking him up in a cell,
Till he said to me, "I'll never be free,
So I'll meet a few of them in hell."

The road was so dimly lighted;
There were no highway signs to guide;
But they made up their minds, if all roads were blind,
They wouldn't give up till they died.

The road gets dimmer and dimmer;
Sometimes you can hardly see;
But it's fight, man to man, and do all you can,
For they know they can never be free.

From heart-break some people have suffered;
From weariness some people have died;
But take it all in all, our troubles are small,
Till we get like Bonnie and Clyde.

If a policeman is killed in Dallas,
And they have no clue or guide;
If they can't find a fiend,
They just wipe their slate clean
And hang it on Bonnie and Clyde.

There's two crimes committed in America
Not accredited to the Barrow mob;
They had no hand in the kidnap demand,
Nor the Kansas City Depot job.

A newsboy once said to his buddy:
"I wish old Clyde would get jumped;
In these awful hard times we'd make a few dimes
If five or six cops would get bumped."

The police haven't got the report yet,
But Clyde called me up today;
He said, "Don't start any fights -
We aren't working nights -
We're joining the NRA."

From Irving to West Dallas viaduct
Is known as the Great Divide,
Where the women are kin, and the men are men,
And they won't "stool" on Bonnie and Clyde.

If they try to act like citizens
And rent them a nice little flat,
About the third night they're invited to fight
By a sub-gun's rat-tat-tat.

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.

Some day 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.


The Story of Suicide Sal
by Bonnie Parker

We each of us have a good alibi
For being down here in the joint
But few of them really are justified
If you get right down to the point.

You've heard of a woman's glory
Being spent on a downright cur,
Still you can't always judge the story
As true, being told by her.

As long as I've stayed on this island,
And heard confidence tales from each gal,
Only one seemed interesting and truthful -
The story of Suicide Sal.

Now Sal was a gal of rare beauty,
Though her features were coarse and tough;
She never once faltered from duty
To play on the up and up.

Sal told me this tale on the evening
Before she was turned out free,
And I'll do my best to relate it
Just as she told it to me:

I was born on a ranch in Wyoming,
Not treated like Helen of Troy;
I was taught that rods were rulers
And ranked as a greasy cowboy.

Then I left my old home for the city
To play in its mad dizzy whirl,
Not knowing how little of pity
It holds for a country girl.

There I fell for the line of a henchman
A professional killer from Chi;
I couldn't help loving him madly,
For him even I would die.

One year we were desperately happy;
Our ill gotten gains we spent free;
I was taught the ways of the underworld;
Jack was just like a god to me.

I got on the F.B.A. payroll
To get the inside lay of the job;
The bank was turning big money!
It looked like a cinch for the mob.

Eighty grand without even a rumble -
Jack was last with the loot in the door,
When the teller dead-aimed a revolver
From where they forced him to lie on the floor.

I knew I had only a moment -
He would surely get Jack as he ran;
So I staged a big fade out beside him
And knocked the forty-five out of his hand.

They rapped me down big at the station,
And informed me that I'd get the blame
For the dramatic stunt pulled on the teller
Looked to them, too much like a game.

The police called it a frame-up
Said it was an inside job,
But I steadily denied any knowledge
Or dealings with underworld mobs.

The gang hired a couple of lawyers,
The best fixers in any mans town,
But it takes more than lawyers and money
When Uncle Sam starts shaking you down.

I was charged as a scion of gangland
And tried for my wages of sin,
The dirty dozen found me guilty -
From five to fifty years in the pen.

I took the rap like good people,
And never one squawk did I make.
Jack dropped himself on the promise
That we make a sensational break.

Well, to shorten a sad lengthy story,
Five years have gone over my head
Without even so much as a letter -
At first I thought he was dead.

But not long ago I discovered;
From a gal in the joint named Lyle,
That Jack and his moll had got over
And were living in true gangster style.

If he had returned to me sometime,
Though he hadn't a cent to give,
I'd forget all the hell that he's caused me,
And love him as long as I lived.

But there's no chance of his ever coming,
For he and his moll have no fears
But that I will die in this prison,
Or flatten this fifty years.

Tomorrow I'll be on the outside
And I'll drop myself on it today,
I'll bump 'em if they give me the hotsquat
On this island out here in the bay...

The iron doors swung wide next morning
For a gruesome woman of waste,
Who at last had a chance to fix it
Murder showed in her cynical face.

Not long ago I read in the paper
That a gal on the East Side got hot,
And when the smoke finally retreated,
Two of gangdom were found on the spot.

It related the colorful story
Of a jilted gangster gal.
Two days later, a sub-gun ended
The story of Suicide Sal.





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