By Teri Blair
Clutter Memorial Monument, photo © 2010 by Teri Blair. All rights reserved.
The town of Holcomb has been on my front burner for years. It began when I saw Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote, built momentum when I read In Cold Blood, and culminated with a road trip to Kansas to see the spot on the map that writer Truman Capote made famous. I was pulled into the 1959 story with everyone else—the lonely farmhouse, the two ex-cons who drove through the night to a place they’d never been, the murdered family. Truman’s stellar writing made me want to see it all—the Clutter Farm, the courthouse where the death sentence was pronounced, and the hotel where Truman stayed while he wrote.
The first time I drove the 850 miles I was a just a sightseer, a tourist. It was a one-time thing. I couldn’t have predicted the story would keep going, that months later I would find some long-lost relatives in Holcomb who had known the Clutters, that I would interview some of the same people Capote had, that I would make the long trip through the relentless wind several times.
Windmills of Kansas, grain elevator towering over Garden City
(seven miles from Holcomb and the site of the trial), Chinese elms
leading to the Clutter farmhouse, and the Clutter farmhouse.
Photos © 2010 by Teri Blair, all rights reserved.
Fifty years ago Perry Smith and Richard Hickock drove across Kansas on a false tip that there was a rich farmer who had thousands of dollars hidden in a safe. Their botched robbery turned into carnage. The two were captured six weeks later, tried, convicted, and hung at a federal penitentiary. The crime was horrific, but everyone agrees, the story would have faded in time—if not for Capote. Though life would have been forever altered in Finney County, it would have returned to normal.
But it didn’t work that way. Truman wrote his book, it became a best seller, and he was catapulted to the top of the literary world. Then Hollywood got on board with a string of successful movies based on the book. Because of one author, there has been a constant, unending stream of people like me in Holcomb. Curious. Prying. Asking. Looking. Bringing it up. Over and over and over. When I interviewed Duane West a few years ago (the local lawyer who got the murderers convicted), he asked why people like me don’t think of something else to do. He’s been pestered for so many interviews since 1959 that he won’t talk to anyone unless they make a donation to the Boy Scouts of Finney County.
Finney County Courthouse and stairs Capote climbed during the trial to
the courtroom. Photos © 2010 by Teri Blair, all rights reserved.
In September, Holcomb dedicated a monument to the Clutters. Its intent is to honor the four people who died: Herb, Bonnie, Nancy, and Kenyon. They were upstanding, involved members of their community. That’s what the monument focuses on, not what garnished the attention: their brutal deaths described in the book In Cold Blood. It was a solid community step to take the Clutters back from Truman and Hollywood and bring them home to their people.
The last time I was in Kansas, I went to the annual Ground Hog Supper held at the Methodist Church. It was the Clutters’ church, the one where the four-family funeral was held in 1959. I sat in the same Fellowship Hall where the mourners would have eaten their post-burial lunch. The room was packed. Just like in 1959. And the people were the same as then—farmers, insurance salesmen, clerks. I liked them. They reminded me of people I grew up around. And I didn’t want them to be bothered with gawkers like me any longer.
Park sign leading to Clutter Memorial Monument,
photo © 2010 by Teri Blair. All rights reserved.
Was Truman right or wrong to tell their story? I loved the book and what it did for American writing. But was it worth the price Holcomb had to pay? Though I won’t pass judgment, one thing is clear: a good writer’s work leaves results. When Capote left New York to set up shop in Kansas, he pulled us in. The pull has lasted five decades. His book kept a wound open. And Truman suffered, too. Researching and publishing In Cold Blood punctuated his dramatic descent into alcoholism.
So for me, for this one writer, I’ve decided to set it down. If I go back to Holcomb someday to visit my cousins, I’ll enjoy the Arkansas River that flows through the town, and I’ll buy a Cherry Limeade because I can’t get them where I live. But that’s it. No more questions.
I’ll just let the people be. It’s time.
Wheatlands Hotel, where Truman Capote stayed,
photo © 2010 by Teri Blair. All rights reserved.
About Teri Blair: Teri Blair is a freelance writer living in Minneapolis and founder of the Poetry & Meditation Group of which QuoinMonkey fondly and frequently writes. (See Letter From Poet Elizabeth Alexander for the latest post on that group and Teri’s piece titled Desire And A Library Card — The Only Tools Necessary To Start A Poetry Group for a step-by-step on how to start your own.)
Teri has written many posts on red Ravine, but this current piece is a follow-up and closure of sorts to her first guest post here, Continue Under All Circumstances, which she wrote on the road during a 2007 trip to Holcomb, Kansas.
Fascinating post. I read In Cold Blood when I was sixteen, soon after it came out. Many of the images have stayed with me all these years.
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Kathy,
Thanks for your comment. It says a lot about Truman’s telling of the story, that this many years later you remember the images. The strongest (and eeriest) part of being in Holcomb for me is seeing the tree-lined driveway to the Clutter farm.
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Teri, your photos added richness to your story. I’m glad you took along your camera and shot as many pics as you did. That shot of the Courthouse stairs seemed especially reminiscent of the era. I can picture men with hats and women in pencil skirts scrambling up and down those stairs during the hubbub of the trial.
You also come from a small Midwestern town, and as you said in the piece, you liked the people there in Holcomb–they felt familiar to you. I wonder how much that sense of kinship with Holcomb and its citizens had to do with your letting go of this story. I would imagine that your hope that the community might get back to some form of normalcy stems from your appreciation as to how disturbing it must be to continually relive this violent past and the spectacle of that trial.
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yb,
I’ve hung around with QuoinMonkey enough to know…take lots of pictures!
The clarity to lay down this story came at one moment at the Ground Hog Supper in the Methodist Church. From one second to the next, I knew I couldn’t be part of the gawking machine any longer.
I’ve been to lots and lots of church suppers where I come from, so my heart was pretty open watching people dish up applesauce and potatoes.
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Wonderful piece, Teri. This feels to me like a very satisfying and gracious closing of your Capote/ Garden City explorations. You are no gawker. You’ve been so respectful and compassionate with everything I’ve ever heard you say about this community and the people who lived there. And died there. You might well be one of the few writers that they wouldn’t mind seeing again.
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Jude,
Well, you’re very kind, but I don’t know if I live up to your ideal of me as a non-gawker. After seeing the movies, and reading the book a few times, it’s just so stunning to see the house where the Clutters died. Even though there is a big “NO TRESPASSING” sign posted, you stand there, trying to connect the dots of all your background knowledge, and pretty soon your camera is aiming and shooting. See what I mean?
I do like the people there. Salt of the earth types.
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Teri, interesting take on your experience in Holcomb. I don’t see you as a gawker. You went to understand the place and the people, to see the environment in which the murders happened. You didn’t go to exploit the people or the tragedy. That wouuld have made you a gawker.
Also, the people of Holcomb gave the interviews to Truman Capote and probably not because they were being good citizens. They entered into the writer’s world to sell, without compensation, their stories and their souls to this little man from NYC and his assistant, Harper Lee. They acted like people everywhere do when these tragedies happen. The outcome was both good and bad. The book changed lives all over America and especially in Holcomb, but fame does that to places and people.
The “salt of the earth” folks remained themselves.
I think it’s funny that Duane West won’t quit talking about the incident. No, he makes people donate to the Finney County Boy Scouts. Why not just refuse to talk and get on with his life?
Your writing on the topic has been riveting from the very beginning. You aren’t a gawker. You are a writer. We put people’s lives on display (our own included). That’s what we do.
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Bob,
You’ve got a point. People are quite willing to get in front of a camera or tape recorder and have their moment. And if there is a celebrity involved (like Truman or Harper), they’re even more willing to give it a go.
But a certain percentage aside, I suspect more residents of Holcomb would have kept their mouths shut if they had known how big things were going to get. I think they thought the buzz would blow over after the murder conviction…not keep growing.
Yes, Duane West. As resistant as he was to talking to me, I couldn’t figure out why he was. It was hands-down the most difficult interview I have ever done. My cousin John was with me, which helped immensely. I don’t think I could have done it alone. When I finished I thought, “I got through that. I can interview anyone.”
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Teri,
Yes, you can interview anyone.
About the people of Holcomb, did any of them express regrets that they had talked to Capote and Lee? If so, what did they say specifically?
Another question, do you really think that we set topics down? That murder trial I attended still pops up from time to time as though reminding me that I never published anything about it. Don’t you think that the topic sets us free at some point when we have done enough?
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Bob,
The sentiment was pretty universal: Harper Lee is regardly warmly and thought of as a genuine person, Capote as someone who used the town for his own gain. I’ll be quick to add, these are only my observations amongst the people I spoke to. Many were named in the book so have strong feelings. The further from the case people were (or if they didn’t know the Clutter family), the more apt they were to shrug things off.
Yes! I think we do get set free when we’ve done enough. That’s a good and comforting way to think about it. Does that mean you need to write about the trial you attended?
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I can see where perhaps this need to see it for yourself would have nagged at you, Teri, had you not followed through on the fixation created from reading the book and seeing the movie. Now you truly can set it to rest.
BTW, I’m struggling with finding the right word to describe the fascination you had with Holcomb. It doesn’t seem to have been an obsession, but clearly you were moved to delve more deeply into what had happened and how the town had been affected. I like how you describe it: “on my front burner” and your decision to “set it down.” Those descriptions make it seem like a physical thing, and from my experience with events or concepts that grab hold of me, they do seem as tangible as something that I can hold in my hands.
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Teri, I wanted to wait until tonight to comment, when I had time to sit down in silence and spend some time with this piece. It has a sense of closure, a peacefulness. And an unsettledness at the same time. Knowing that there will always be people who visit Holcomb and Garden City in search of understanding. People who continue to ask questions. I wonder though if the next generation will see more relief. The further away from the event time takes us.
You seem to have come to some peace with this last journey. It’s been wonderful to follow you, from that exciting first trip to Kansas in 2007 on the way to Taos. All the way to the present. And I imagine having relatives there will always keep you connected by a thread.
When I read the piece, I see that these are your people. You know the small town life, can relate to their struggles. I agree with the other commenters that it’s the writer in you that took you there, searching for details. Searching for truth and honesty.
I spent a lot of time with the photographs. (Great job on the photography.) And I hope people click on each one and see them in the larger view. I was actually able to read the text on the Clutter monument, about their living lives, in many ways ordinary lives that were transformed by what happened. And what of the child who lived?
With the photos, I get an eerie feeling when I see the farmhouse in the enlarged version. All the detail, some things falling apart, run down. I bet it was immaculate back then. Does someone live in the farmhouse now? It looks lived in. Love the Chinese elms, too. Just as I pictured them.
Thanks for taking us on this journey with you. It’s been a fascinating and enlightening one. It leaves me thinking about the legacy that writers leave behind. Truman and Harper were truly one of a kind people. Caught up in the lives that evolved after their books became famous. It’s a lot to chew on. I might have more questions later.
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ybonesy,
Oddly, I didn’t feel like I created what happened with Holcomb. It kept landing on my plate and I had to take the next step. On the first trip I was on my way to New Mexico. I was satisfied with one look. It wasn’t until I got back to Minnesota that my Dad told me (for the first time) he had escaped from Bible camp at 16 and hitchhiked to visit relatives there. What relatives? Well, naturally I had to contact them, and then I found out they had been friends of the Clutters. It kept mushrooming and I kept following the lead. Maybe that’s one of the biggest lessons for me in all this: follow the nudge, the lead. It was worth it.
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QuoinMonkey,
The house is currently lived in. One of the times I was in Holcomb, it was up for sale. The realtor was using an interesting selling technique. The sign boasted “Site of the Clutter Murders! Movie set from Capote’s film!” They’ve let the old house where the caretakers lived stand, and that’s in *really* bad condition.
The two oldest Clutter daughters had moved away by 1959, and they continue to keep a very low profile. But after the funeral in 1959, the engaged daughter decided to get married on the spot. Because all the relatives were in town, it seemed practical. So literally a few days after the four caskets of her family were in front of the Methodist church, she was at the altar saying “I do.”
When I’ve was at the high school looking at yearbooks, the librarian told me the younger generation is just learning about what happened. For them, there is no pain. It’s the older people who have suffered…those who knew the Clutters, those who were jurors, those who had to live through the terror before the ex-cons were caught.
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Teri, about the murder trial I attended. Things kept happening that dumped more information in my lap. Your piece has made me wonder if I am done wth that murder story.
If the Clutter murder had happened last week, the media would have hounded the surviving daughters to death about their feelings, their emotions, their plans, everything. Back in the late 1950’s they had chance to escape and it looks like they did.
What I have liked about your pieces was your lack of an agenda in following your nudge. You opened yourself up to the possibilities and let whatever happen, happen. You didn’t have an axe to grind or a prejudice to prove. That made the pieces refreshing to me, the unbiased approach.
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Bob,
You’re right about the surviving daughters. I wonder, did the paparazzi exist in 1959?
I’ll be interested to see what develops in your writing regarding the trial. I’ve heard you talk about it before; it keeps surfacing.
I’d like all my writing and research to be like what I did in Holcomb. Following nudges, looking for the next lead, seeing what presents itself. This, vs. the chronic pounding I typically feel to accomplish. To drum something up. To try harder. Ugh. I feel discouraged even typing that.
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What a wonderful piece, Teri. I was immediately taken back to the first time I read In Cold Blood. And I’d like to echo what others have said: the respect with which you write about the town and its people is really amazing and makes it impossible for you to be a gawker.
I can’t wait to read more of your wirting!
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Kate,
Thank-you! I wonder how old you were when you read In Cold Blood, as it seems to resonate in different ways with people depending on their age. Can you imagine that after I read it, I started meeting people written about on its pages, nearly 50 years later? It was amazing. And confusing. It’s very mind-blowing to sit across a table from someone Harper Lee and Truman Capote interviewed.
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How did the desire to learn more about Holcomb, Kansas, the Clutter family, and what happened start with you? I’m wondering as that might be a way to start a new interest that would flow as easily as this one did for you.
This kind of “nudging” has happened to you on other writing things too.
Kind of jealous of the nudgs you have received, but I’m sure I have my own that I probably haven’t paid attention to.
Keep open to the nudges.
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Bob,
When I saw the movie, “Capote,” I was completely taken in. Maybe because it was about a writer, or a writer who went to the country. Remember when the movie “Titanic” came out and people were seeing it multiple times? It was that sort of thing. I Googled “Holcomb” and was surprised there were things in the town available for me to see from 1959. Since I was driving to Taos anyway, I figured I’d take some back roads to New Mexico and pass through Finney County.
In your writing, Bob, I have certainly noticed themes that are consistently alive for you and your readers. Is that a nudge?
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Teri,
Unfortunately reading “In Cold Blood” was not required in any class I took and I read it for the first time last year and I have not seen the movie. I was struck by “humanization” of all of the characters in the book, something you don’t see too much of today with the fast paced story telling we get with the news and on TV shows.
I too wonder why some the interviews given to you were given with mixed messages and I am sure on some level you felt that at the time. Mr. West wonders why people are still interested in the story but makes sure some good comes out of the interview in the form of a donation to an unrelated cause. For me this seems odd but it may serve a purpose for him be it making sure some good comes out of all of the publicity, or seeing that some penance is served. I wouldn’t claim to understand his reasoning but can reconcile the unexpected behavior.
I also see these interviews taking place in two uniquely different circumstances. When Capote and Harper interviewed the people the events were still fresh and people needed to speak the words to make this surreal situation more tangible. There is a drive to share it in the hopes that others can take on some of the burden of confusion, fear and knowledge that chaos exists and can touch our lives unexpectedly.
After time passes and we start to fall back into having a sense of normality and the fear of the chaos is dampened, then our lives tend to fall back into a familiar pattern. When the interviewer returns asking questions about the events that occurred, one is forced out of their comfortable numbness and once again have to face the chaos. As this pattern repeats itself you change and just wish that it would stop. I sounds that for you that realization occurred when you attended the church dinner and were able to see both sides of the story.
Your nudges were right, your post says as much about you as a writer and a person as it does about the people of Holcomb and your desire for them to live normal lives. I think this experience will make you a better interviewer. I have more to say but need to think about it a little more before my next comment.
R3
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R3,
I think you’re right. When something is new, people need to talk about it. Especially if someone is willing to listen. But after some time has passed, they just want to be done with it. Or, at the very least, have some privacy with their thoughts. Unhappily, the people who should have the say about when the intrusion stops don’t get to make it cease.
I think Duane West has made peace with his notoriety by making people pay for his time. As in, “Okay, you want to poke around Finney County asking the same old questions? Fine. Then you’ll support our county, too. You’ll leave something here for us. Not just take, take, take.” This guy has more attitude than the whole town put together, but I have to respect him for having found some redemption in what happened to their town.
I’ll be interested to hear if you see the movies. A lot of people like the 1967 one, as it was filmed in the actual house where the murders happened. My favorite is “Capote,” as the emphasis is on Truman, and the writing, and how he compromised his integrity to get what he wanted.
Thanks for reading my post.
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[…] Teri has written many posts on red Ravine. Her first guest post, Continue Under All Circumstances, was written on the road during a 2007 trip to Holcomb, Kansas. She journeyed back to Holcomb early this year and wrote a follow-up piece published on red Ravine in March, Back To Holcomb, One Last Time. […]
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[…] during a 2007 trip to Holcomb, Kansas. She journeyed back to Holcomb in 2010 and wrote a sequel, Back To Holcomb, One Last Time. Her last piece for red Ravine, Discovering The Big Read, is about the largest reading program in […]
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Thank’s for this paper and moving pictures of the Clutter’s farm in Holcomb. I’m French and I’m reading “In Cold Blood”, the famous best seller of Truman Capote !!! Last week, I’ve seen two movies about this drama, the movies of Richard Brooks and the TV movies of Jonathan Kaplan with Eric Roberts… Have a good day.
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Michel,
I’m glad you found your way to this post about Holcomb, Kansas. The house looks very different than I thought it would when I read In Cold Blood. I pictured it as an old, white, two-story prairie home. Did you, too?
I hope you enjoy the rest of the book, Truman’s masterpiece.
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[…] a 2007 trip to Holcomb, Kansas. She journeyed back to Holcomb in 2010 and published a sequel, Back To Holcomb, One Last Time . In March 2010, she wrote Discovering The Big Read , a piece about the largest reading program in […]
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[…] a 2007 trip to Holcomb, Kansas. She journeyed back to Holcomb in 2010 and published a sequel, Back To Holcomb, One Last Time. Since then, she has written Desire And A Library Card — The Only Tools Necessary To Start A […]
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My husband and I drove through Holcomb just last week. We stopped at the park dedicated to the Clutter family and truthfully although the town itself seems peaceful enough, I felt a huge pain deep inside myself. I read “In Cold Blood” when it first came out and the book then had pictures of the 2 killers eyes on the cover. Chilled me to the bone. I was 21 at the time. Now at 65 the horror of that story still pains me. We did not try to find River Valley Farm. Just stopping briefly at the park was enough. My heart goes out to the remaining Clutter family. My heart goes out to the people who knew the family and what the tragedy did to them and their town.
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C/C Rosie,
I’m so glad you took the time to make a comment after your trip through Holcomb. I can imagine exactly the place you stood at the park. For you to have read the book at 21 and then, 44 years later, be standing at the memorial must have been stunning, shocking, and hard to grasp. I have often thought of the two daughters who were left behind after the rest of the family died. How did they even begin to try to live beyond what happened?
I’ve seen the book cover you talk about. Chilling is right.
Thanks again, C/C.
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I have read all the books and seen all the dvd’s and I can only say this was truly an American tragedy
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1959-2013 and people are still reading the book and buying the dvd’s. And to think the Clutters died for absolutely nothing is truly a chilling part of American history.
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John,
You’re right. It was (and is) a chilling and terrible story. I try to remember it was before the advent of the internet, before the world’s bad news was blasted at us constantly. How much more shocking to the people of Holcomb during that time?
Interestingly, I’m going to be in Holcomb again next weekend on the way to New Mexico. I’ll watch “Capote” again before I hit the open road in my Subaru.
Thanks for stopping by and commenting. Maybe you’ll go to Holcomb yourself one day.
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Thinking about you, Teri, on that long drive across Nebraska on the way to Taos. I see today that the temperature in Taos is about the same as the Twin Cities. Except for the pesky windchill dropping us down to -27. Safe travels. Will picture you in the zendo. May the circle be unbroken.
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[…] park, which is also dedicated to them. Worthwhile reading is Teri Blair’s experience visiting and reliving the Holcomb tragedy and Capote’s report on it. The picture above is courtesy Blair’s […]
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I’ve been fascinated with the case since I saw the film when I was 10 years old. That was over 45 years ago. My passion led me to Holcomb for the 50th Anniversary of the murders. I found that everyone in Holcomb was more than happy to talk about it….as well as many in Garden City. In 2013, I was invited out to the Clutter House by the current owners. It is a day I will never forget. The feeling of driving down the Chinese Elm lane….it was surreal….and then walking thru the front door…well it was something I dreamed of for years…I wanted more from Capote’s book when I read the last page….I now feel somewhat a part of the book…in many aspects….The kind and generous family let me go off and take photos and also come back later that night to walk the lane back and forth as darkness fell. I traveled across country with the Perry Smith Jesus Art that I purchased years ago….and I was permitted to bring it in the house and photograph it. I feel it was a “Healing”….it had been 54 years since Perry Smith & Dick Hickock had been in the house….and now they were back….but with Jesus….if anyone would like to see photos please email me at jefferama@aol.com Youknow, it’s been two years and I’m not sure I’ve really processed my visit completely….I haven’t been able to fully review it all on paper….just waiting I guess…I reply to blogs and post such as these….but just haven’t decided or perhaps not ready yet with what I’m going to do with this experience….but so thankful…it was my dream come true.
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Hi Teri, a quick question. I am the oldest grandson of KBI DIRECTOR Logan Sanford. I was staying at my grandparents home during this time and was friends with the agents on this case. I think of going to Holcomb every year when they start showing the movies but each year I talk myself into staying home. I was awake when my grandfather got a phone call from Agent Dewey after the sentences were carried out. I overheard him tell my grandfather that “it was done”. My grandfather told Mr. Dewey that he thought that this case would never be done. I now find myself each year explaining to my kids and now grandkids about this tragedy. My family has quite a bit of mementos from the case and book and movie. What Im trying to say is it gets old each year around Thanksgiving to have all the memories and questions come rushing back ike it was yesterday. For me, grampa was right, this case will never be over. I am planning to finally go to Holcomb this year. My intentiin is to not be a tourist or gawker but to get an understanding of my true feelings that I have carried these many years. I will appreciate any thoughts or guidance that you could give me. Thank you and God bless.
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I’ve been a history buff all my life and in particular criminal history. So I know the story of this sad tale. I’ll be passing through the area next year and intend to stop and view the history myself. Glad you have some information here that I never would have learned about from other sources. I’m curious if the relatives are so tired of people like me that they would never want to talk to me. If you know otherwise, let me know via a posted response, please.
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