Sister-in-law of Clyde Barrow (1911–1988). She and Clyde Barrow’s brother Marvin ‘Buck’ Barrow were part of the Barrow Gang from late March 1933 until their capture on July 24, 1933. Collection of 47 letters from Blanche Barrow, several unpublished, most handwritten in pencil, with a couple of typed letters also, most written from the Missouri State Penitentiary to her mother. Most of the letters are signed, with four signed “Blanche Barrow,” 16 signed “Blanche,” six signed “Your loving daughter,” 12 signed “B.B.,” and one signed “Baby girl.” The vast collection of letters date from 1933–1939, with almost all of the letters written to her mother. Many of these letters served as the basis for the book Blanche Barrow: The Last Victim of Bonnie and Clyde, written by Robert E. Davis. A selection of the letters follows.
An undated letter reads, in part: “Sorry I have been unable to write because of a quarantine which was put on the 15th because of smallpox. It has not been lifted yet, and I am not allowed to write, so this is written on the q.t.…I have not heard from Freddie for 3 weeks. Guess he has gone the way all fair weather friends go…Dear, it doesn’t look like I will make parole because I don’t have any one to go to the front here and fight for me. Those I thought would do me some good at this time seem to have all dropped out of the picture. But, if I have to do it all, I only have 31 more months.”
Another undated letter, but after Buck’s death in July of 1933, in part: “And some day, if I ever get out of here, I hope to make your’s and dad’s life more pleasant…I love you both dearly, and were it not for you two, I would have never given up. I would have died with the one who meant more to me than any one else or rather could ever want. I love poor little Mother Barrow too, because she was my loved one’s Mother, and I will always love her for his sake, and just because I want to.”
January 14, 1933: “Mother I have 10 years, but with good conduct, I will only have to serve five years 10 months, and I have hopes of getting a parole in 2 years…Oh if only I could have my darling waiting for me free when I come out. Only God in heaven knows how I miss him. It seems I just can’t go on with him sometimes, but life must go on. But oh dear, he was everything to me.”
October 1933: “Mother, the doctor took the bandage off my eye Sunday, but cannot see out of it very good yet…Mother, when you write don’t say anything about the past. Although I can never forget it, and do not want to forget about my darling. Because letters mean so much in this place, that is all I have to look forward to at the end of the day.”
October 12, 1933: “The warden just walked through the kitchen here. Wanted to know how I liked my pictures. He had Buck’s picture enlarged for me. It looks so sweet. I can’t hardly keep from crying when I look at it. I just can’t seem to ever realize he has gone from this world, but I love him oh so much, and all I have left now is the few sweet memories of him, of the few short years we were together. Oh God, what would I pay just to be with him again. But I guess I am cruel wanting him back in this old world of pain and unhappiness.”
October 21, 1933: “Mother, you asked if I could get a pardon. Well dear, I don’t think so. It will be two years before I can go up for a parole. So all I can do is just wait and pray for the best in the end. But you may help me a lot by having some good news to write to the Board of Pardons and Parole. Every good letter will help. But don’t write anything about Buck or against him. Yes, I guess it is a sin to long for my darling, Buck to this old world of pain and unhappiness, but I love him so much and miss him so because he meant so much to me, and all I have left is memories. I am proud you got to go see him.”
November 1, 1933: “And Mother, there is nothing you can do for me for two years anyway. I will write and tell you when I think you can help me out of here, and don’t worry about this place hurting me. I have already been hurt all they can hurt me. Nothing hurts me anymore. As for my past, I am dead too. I only want to be free someday to make you and Dad happy…I guess you knew John [Blanche’s first husband John Calloway] wrote the Sheriff a few days after I was captured. Well, you can tell him to keep his nose out of my business as I do not belong to him any more and have not for over two years and do not care to have him writing about me to anyone or my darling who he never new [sic] and who I never met while I was with him. He has caused me enough trouble and pain when I was with him, but his letter did not hurt me any and if it should have been used, he need not think his name would not have been in the paper.”
December 13, 1933: “Well Mother, I don’t care what John thinks of me, but that is just one more mark against him tearing my picture up. But, he can’t hurt me any. I am proud he does not care for me, because it would not do him any good…I had a sweet letter from Mrs. Barrow a few days ago. She had been sick. Poor thing, she has so much to worry her. I can’t see how she has stood up under all of it as good as she has with out going crazy.”
January 30, 1934: “I am sending you some of my old pictures—ones Buck and I had taken. Poor darling, I wish I could be with him tonight. I don’t see how I can ever stand it without him, and when I do get out, it will be so much harder because I will always love him the same. My heart died with him.”
September 1, 1935. “I go up for parole Oct. 7th, but I need a sponsor before I go up, so I want you and Mrs. Barrow to do all you can for me in the next month. I want my file complete by the time I go up for a hearing. I still have no hopes but I want a chance, and if everything I need is not on file by Sept 30th, it will do no good to do anything more. So I want you to go see Mrs. Barrow and you and her find Mr. Paskle.”
September 14, 1935: “I will write him myself.…I only wanted him to get him to be my sponsor any way. That’s why I thought if you and Mrs. Barrow talked to him, she could make him understand what I wanted, as he talked to us the day I left, as she knows what he said he could and would do. But she is not interested OK. Just forget it. If she would turn me down now, she would turn Buck down, because he was my husband and loved me well enough to die that he might save me. And I felt the same about him. As God knows, I would have gladly died to have saved him…I will be free from here in 1939 if I have to do it all, which I am sure I will have to do.”
December 4, 1935: “I had a letter from Mrs. Barrow this week, and she told me that she never got to see you any more. She thinks you are mad at her because she did not feel like going to see that lawyer with you when you wrote me about it. So just forget whatever I may have said about it and don’t be mad at her, because you know dear she has had so much trouble and worries. I don’t see how the poor dear has stood up under it all. I guess there is no one who understands her as I do…Of course I love you best, but I love her too because I loved Buck too much not to love his mother too.”
January 5, 1936: “Do you know if anyone has been indicted for harboring Ray Hamilton yet. Please don’t forget to answer my questions when you write. Read my letter over please. I read about Ray H.s father being found dead. Has L. C. been brought back to Dallas yet, or did he get to go home free. I hope he does not have to do any more time.”
November 6, 1938: “I feel so sorry for Mrs. Barrow poor old soul. I don’t see how she stands up under all the sorrows she has had and is still having. I thought her troubles would be over after B and C were gone but looks like they have begain [sic] all over again.”
Though Blanche never fired a gun during her time with the Barrow gang, she did accompany her husband on a number of armed robberies. On July 19, 1933, they were involved in a gunfight at the Red Crown Tourist Court near Platte City, Missouri; three people were wounded, including Sheriff Holt Coffey. Buck was shot in the head and Blanche took shards of glass in her eye, but the entire gang managed to escape. Five days later, in another gunfight, Buck was shot again, this time fatally, and both were captured. After being convicted of the attempted murder of Coffey, she was sentenced to 10 years in the Missouri State Penitentiary. Her four-month run with the gang cost her years of her life, the loss of her husband, and the sight in her left eye. Written from prison shortly after her trial and Buck’s death, these letters capture the intense emotion that led her to follow her husband along his criminal path. Her devotion to Buck and her references to Mrs. Barrow’s sorrows capture a side of the Barrow Gang’s story that is often forgotten in the fast-paced and exciting tales of their crime spree: the long-lasting emotional damage they left in their wake.
