The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1934-01-05


yourself up to the police"
John left that night never to re-
turn until after his sensational
flight from a small Lima 90 Jail,
in which a sheriff was slain. Then,
flying through, he stayed only for
a few bitter words against society
that he felt had wronged him. Now
a dread legend follows him as
federal public enemy No. l, leader
of the Indiana terror mob.
A REVIEW of young Dillinger's
L N early life shows no evidence
Of the criminal life he was to lead,
except an occasional mischievious-
ness, before he went to prison.
His father, a respected citizen
of this small town, even now can
not assemble the whole picture of
his sons life. Four factors, he
claims, led to the criminal
makeup.
When John Jr. was only years
old his mother died, leaving him
in the care Of a sister, Audrey,
ten years older. With no children
near his age. he was a lonely,
spirited boy.
The second factor is a hitherto
unknown chronicle of his life.
When he was II, the age Of SEN
sitive adolescence, he fell deeply
in love with a girl. Her parents
tore the two apart, leaving
Dillinger broken and embittered.
Later he married. The marriage,
never satisfactory, ended in di-
vorce when Dillinger was sent to
the Indiana reformatory at 81.
The third was when Dillinger,
drinking with a man ten years his
senior, Ed Singleton, robbed and
beat an aged grocer. The elder
Dillinger, unlearned in the way OF
law or the courts, instructed his
son to plead guilty. John Sr.
bIames the judge for giving his
son the minimum sentence of ten
years. His accomplice, turning
states evidence, was given eight
years. The story is whispered
around Mooresville now that
Singleton lives in dread for fear
that Dillinger may return to
avenge.
TINE fourth was while he was
Il in the reformatory he was
transferred to Michigan City, pre-
sumably for misconduct. The
hatred of society rancored in his
breast, and at the state prison ne
was associated with hardened
criminals, who fired his hate and
tempted his criminal ambition.
Only a few hours after his step
mother had died, John returned
to the farm with his father. His
father noticed a subtle change in
the boy, not apparent on the out
side, but burning furiously with
in. John helped his father with
the corn, went hunting with him,
but always there was a restless
ness stirring him. He made fire.
quent trips to indianapolis, where
it is suspected he leagued with his
outlaw confederates.
His pictures as boy show
,,,loo+ ,oo;0lIoOrc friaJoIc onI pyypY1
stolid merchants of Mooresville
have claimed that he was nor
NAL boy of a middleclass family.
He lived as boy at 2053 Cooper
street in Indianapolis, while his
father operated a small grocery.
His one interest apparently was
in mechanics. He worked for
James Burcham as mechanic in
a shop on Kentucky avenue, where
he apparently was contented. Even
after the family moved to Moores-
vile. John drove back and forth
to work.
People of Mooresville steady
tasty claim that he was a good
hearted boy, nothing unusual
about him" A merchant who
signed his parole told the writer,
81 believed I was right in signing
that parole. We all thought he
had raw deal" The old grocer,
whom John had attacked, signed
The parole request.
n y
To-day, as one steps into the
Il humble Dillinger farmhouse,
a motto over the door proclaims
BE Kind to Each Other" Chill
dren, Johns stepsisters, scamper
about the house. There is a
spirit of naive faith in his son be-
hind John ST., who plaintively
can not grasp the significance OF
his sons actions. Other children
have been honor students at
school. A visitor is caught with
the same spirit, the perplexing
question, What are the reasons
for Johns behavior"
Once police stampeded to the
farm. They abruptly asked John
Sr., What would you do if your
son came here to stay?"
Mr.. Dillinger confesses the ques-
toned disturbed his conscience
His respect for law and order was
caught off balance. He replied
thinking of his son as hunted
fugitive, What would you do if
you were q father?"
John ST.. does not condone his
sons crime career, but there lin
gers in his mind a hope, rather
than a conviction, that John was
not guilty of all the crimes OF
which he has been suspected.
He has a warrant of faith, let
ter penciled by John when jailed
at Lima, signed Johnnie" In that
letter the man branded now as an
arch-criminal said that he was
not guilty of everything"
John Sr. waits now, shaken, fol-
a radio flash that his son has
been killed in a gun duel. The
rest OF the country waits, too, but
in different spirit. A fathers
love confuses all values!