Saturday, March 24, 2007

Touched by infamy

While I was going through my records and putting people and information into the family tree on my wife's side, I ran across a man by the name of Eugene Capel Moore. Eugene was born on September 9th, 1901 within the Chickasaw Nation in Oklahoma. When he became an adult, he worked as a Deputy Sheriff in Atoka County, Oklahoma and that is where we find how his life was touched by infamy.

While I haven't found a picture of Eugene Capel Moore, I did find a picture of one of the people whom he ran across on the wrong day in 1932.

Enter Bonnie and Clyde

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Here is some information on what happened. The following was taken from an article entitled "A Murder in Stringtown" by Richard Green.

"In the summer of 1932, Gene Moore had been a deputy sheriff in Atoka County for about a year. By one account, this 30-year-old man of part Chickasaw descent liked his job, carried out his duties efficiently and was considered popular by the citizens of Atoka. Hard-working and God-fearing, with a wife and three children, he appeared to be a model citizen with a bright future in law enforcement and possibly as a community leader. Born near Calera (south of Durant) in 1901, Eugene Capel Moore was one of twelve children born to Chickasaw citizen, Lemuel Capel Moore, and two successive wives. Lemuel was born in the former Chickasaw Nation in Holly Springs, Mississippi in 1847. He moved to the Choctaw Nation, near Goodland in 1868, and then relocated to Sterrett in the Chickasaw Nation in 1891. He served one term in the Chickasaw Legislature. He was a successful businessman, which probably played a role in getting him elected and definitely played a role in his retirement. Although interested in politics, he preferred devoting his time and energy to his prosperous farming and ranching business around Calera. He amassed considerable wealth, but as a speculator, always risked losing his fortune. His luck did turn bad and he was wiped out financially before his death at age 82 in 1929. By then, his son, Gene, had a wife and family to support. At the front end of the Great Depression, Gene Moore felt blessed to have landed the deputy sheriff's job. Of course, there were obvious occupational hazards. Sometime after 10 p.m. on the evening of Saturday, August 5, 1932, Gene Moore and Sheriff Charley Maxwell drove the eight miles from Atoka to Stringtown apparently to investigate a disturbing-the-peace complaint. Sheriff Maxwell may have called on Moore (and not another available deputy) to accompany him to Stringtown because he wanted to ride in Moore's new Chevrolet. Since the source of the noise was a country-and-western dance, both lawmen felt sure that some of the dancers would be violating local, state and federal prohibitions against consuming alcohol. They arrived just before 11 p.m."

"Confirming the men's suspicious behavior, Sheriff Maxwell walked over to the car and told the men that they could consider themselves under arrest."

"Earlier that afternoon, two men who had stolen a car in Corsicana, Texas, drove north into Oklahoma. At some point, they were joined by one or two companions (accounts vary). The original pair were Raymond Hamilton and Clyde Barrow, who was on the way to nation-wide notoriety as Bonnie Parker's partner in crime. Bonnie and Clyde met in 1930, but were separated for two years during Clyde's imprisonment in Texas for robbery."

"Paroled in early 1932, Clyde joined Bonnie and Hamilton for a series of small holdups, culminating in the gang's first murder in Texas in April. The crime spree continued throughout the summer of 1932, although Bonnie was not with the gang when the men rolled into Stringtown the night of August 5. According to witness Duke Ellis, Barrow and Hamilton had been dancing and drinking but "I did not see either of them get out of line. Then, Sheriff Maxwell and Gene Moore drove up."

"The lawmen spotted some men who were apparently drinking in a nearby car and Maxwell went to investigate. According to Maxwell's other deputy sheriff, Oscar Folsom (who was not present), the two lawmen had in their custody a woman who had escaped from prison in McAlester. Moore stayed with her in his car. Evidently confirming the men's suspicious behavior, Sheriff Maxwell walked over to the car and told the men that they could consider themselves under arrest. Not suspecting trouble, he did not have his gun drawn. Pistol shots rang out. Maxwell was hit several times, but did not fall until he had taken seven bullets. Moore leaped from his car and ducked behind a Model T for cover. He drew his gun, raised up to see the assailants and immediately was dropped by a single bullet from a.30 caliber Stevens automatic rifle."

"As Barrow and Hamilton made their getaway, they continued to fire shots back at the fleeing crowd. When help reached the fallen lawmen, they found Moore dead but Maxwell still alive. Reportedly close to death, he was taken to a McAlester hospital, where following surgery, he recovered, though he was "crippled for life," according to the newspapers."

"Both Hamilton and Barrow escaped to join Bonnie Parker in Dallas. Their wave of violent robberies continued. Barrow reportedly killed three more men in Texas during 1932. Hamilton left the gang, was captured in Michigan and executed in Texas. Although they periodically laid low, Bonnie and Clyde continued their holdups, which increasingly involved shootouts and murders. On May 23, 1934, they were slain in a dramatic police ambush in Louisiana."

"Gene Moore's funeral was held at the First Baptist Church of Atoka. On hand, according to the Atoka Indian Citizen, was "one of the largest crowds ever to attend a funeral in this section of the state to pay respects to a man who was admired and respected by all with whom he had come in contact."

"Thirty-four years later, Bonnie and Clyde were immortalized (again) in the Academy Award winning film, "Bonnie and Clyde," starring Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway. After the film was released, the late, great Chicago newspaper columnist, Mike Royko, disgusted by the movie's glamorizing the killers, wrote a column based on interviews he had with three sons of fathers who were killed by Bonnie and/or Clyde. One was Russell Moore, a Chickasaw veteran of the Korean War. He did not attend his father's funeral because he was less than a year old at the time. His sisters had been 7 and 3."

"Moore said he would not be seeing the movie. "My mother was left with three children to support. We moved in with her parents and she got a job. There was no insurance. [She] was young and pretty when it happened, but she never married again. The roughest thing for me was growing up without a father. The only material possessions I had of his were a hat, his gun belt, and a gold railroad watch. And a picture. He was very tall. They tell me I look a lot like him."

"Six years earlier, in 1962, an article in The Daily Oklahoman told of how Sheriff Maxwell's son, Ted, was offering to sell a shotgun and rifle owned by Clyde Barrow. The rifle was identified as the .30 caliber Stevens that had been used to kill Gene Moore. Maxwell said they "would certainly make fine display trophies for some organization or individual."

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Aunt Johnnie

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Aunt Johnnie Cochran

Born: Jimmie Lawanda Harris


August 10, 1927 - March 3, 2007




The following is something that Michelle wrote about her Aunt on her own blog. I thought it fitting that it should be up here as well considering this is the one that all our family sees.



She said..............

"I thought you didn't love me. It took a long time for us to warm up to each other but I believe after the third time, you grew on me and I on you. You have a warmth in your eyes. You have a kindness in your heart. Marcella. Is that your name?"

"Michelle" I whispered back with a smile.

"Michelle.....Michelle.....Michelle.....Marcel.....Marcella. I like Marcella. It's a beautiful name" she smiled warmly when she softly spoke the words.

"It doesn't matter. You can call me whatever you choose, so long as you know who I am." I politely responded with a smile.

"Oh I know your face well. I know you so very well. Now that I know the connection, I will never forget, Marcella."

The visit continued with warm, gentle laughs and stories of passed events. She had proclaimed herself president for the day and re-named everyone in the home with names that began with "A".....except for me....Marcella.

"Now, Marcell....when Cierra is of age, you will change her name to AC (a sea). Everyone's name will begin with "A", except yours, Marcella..."

She indulged in a fine cup of coffee, sipped a bit of warm water and slowly snacked on red jello with simple glee. Even though her movements were slow and meticulous, she showed no signs of the pain that she was enduring.

"You understand that I cannot remember your name, right? You understand why it is hard for me to remember your name?"

"Yes of course I understand. It doesn't bother me at all, so long as you know who I am" I gently re-assured her.

"Oh good. Of course I know who you are. I just....I can't remember.....Marcella....it's hard to remember right now." she sighed softly and smiled. "Marcella. Such a lovely name."

I began to tell her, "I know it's hard right now. But don't worry about that, hun. You know, I never got the chance to tell you how beautiful you are. I want you to know that. And I want you to know how very much I love you. You have brought such a beautiful gift into my life. Your eyes are filled with such light and beauty, I can only hope to be as beautiful as you are."

"Oh....I don't feel that I am beautiful. I don't feel it one bit. You are so sweet to tell me this. I have not always been kind, you know?"

"I'm sure we have all had our bad moments but you have remained beautiful and have such a kind heart."

"You have a wonderful heart, Marcel. You know, you will be blessed for your kindness. You know that, right?"

"Thank you. And thank you for everything you have given me."

"You know Marcel, you have such beautiful hair. And you have such a warm light in your eyes. You are beautiful and you are going to be blessed."

That day, I found out that my Aunt was a cotton picker in Oklahoma State while she was a child. She also told me how she believed that my grandfather was a guy who not only enjoyed women and booze, but enjoyed trouble so much that it may had lead him to his death.

"He's probably buried in some farmer's field near Bakersfield. My dad slapped him around one night, telling him to get his act together. If my dad knew what had happened to him, he would have told us....he might have told us....You know Marcel, he would have remembered you. He never forgets a person that catches his attention, he would certainly have remembered you....."

Everyone in the house began fading quickly with exhaustion and I took that as my cue to say my last good-bye. And she said......

"There will never be anything between us. Nothing will ever come between us. And we will hug each other with long strong arms now and after this. I tell you, we will see each other again and you will be blessed. I love you so much. Michelle.....Michelle.....Michelle.....Marcel....Marcella."

"Nothing will ever come between us, Aunt Johnnie. Nothing. I love you so very much. Now be sure to get some rest. You have had a very long day."

"No...not yet. I'm not ready to rest just yet. But soon, Marcella."

"And Aunt Johnnie, don't worry. I'll make sure that Uncle Bob is being taken care of."

With a heavy sigh of relief she responded,"Oh thank you so much Marcella. That is your name, right?"

"Michelle." I whispered back with a soft smile.

"Michelle....Michelle....Michelle....oh Marcel....Marcella. Such a lovely name."

I was told that she wasn't going to make it to the weekend on Thursday, February 22. On Friday, she managed to pull out of her long battle, long enough to have a 3 hour visit with me. Mainly, she was afraid to leave her husband who earlier that day, had a severe Asthma/Panic attack. But in a way, my prayers had been answered so that I may see her one last time. After that visit, her health began to decline again until today. At 10:15am, I received the call that she had passed away.

I was the only outside family member to be granted permission to come see her before her death. Everyone else was told to stay away, except for immediate family like her son, daughter and grand-children. I am honored and in the same breath mortified. Mortified that people who should have been there, were not allowed to. Honored that I was chosen to be there and speak my last heart-felt thoughts of love to a woman who brought to me the truth of my heritage.

I am at peace with the knowledge that she has left us. I am at peace now, knowing that she will not be far away from me. My heart is sad of course to lose someone who I had just began to love and is of such a strong yet loving character.....


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