Factchecker's Corner: Clyde Barrow’s Lost Love on the Jefferson Highway

Here at Oklahoma Today, we care about getting things right. We care a lot—so much so that my primary duty as research editor at the magazine is to factcheck every sentence of every story before it goes to print. I begrudgingly admit that I—and those who assist me—are human and therefore not always perfect in this regard, but we strive to be.

A big part of factchecking, especially for our stellar historical pieces, involves doing a bunch of reading and research to form a contextual basis of understanding before you can even get to verifying a stated fact. In doing so, I often rappel down fascinating rabbit holes of history. The content I encounter doesn’t usually wind up on our pages, but I still find it interesting and worthy of sharing. With that note, allow me to introduce the new semi-regular blog Factchecker’s Corner, a new landing place for all those tidbits that were previously only stored in my head.

For the first installment of the Corner, I want to elaborate on a rare book briefly mentioned in the story “Jefferson Revival” by Robert Reid from our May/June issue. I loved Robert’s firsthand account of the old north-south highway that once carried travelers from the Gulf Coast all the way to Canada, cutting right through eastern Oklahoma in the process. It’s an obscure road relative to the prominence of, say, Route 66 or the old Lincoln Highway, but Robert does a great job helping readers understand the significance of the route and the communities that still exist along its path.

"Dance of Death" by Wilma Fugate Magby of Stringtown

For example, the Jefferson was once utilized by outlaws like the infamous Clyde Barrow to dodge capture. In his story, Robert mentions an account by the late Stringtown resident Sadie Seabourn Walton, who claimed to be an old love interest of Clyde’s before he ever went on the lam with Bonnie Parker. The story is preserved in Dance of Death, a self-published 2021 book by Stringtown author Wilma Fugate Magby, who interviewed Sadie before she died. The writer weaves Sadie’s telling of her yearslong friendship with Clyde with bits of relevant background information from Wilma’s own research. Though just about thirty pages in length, the account is captivating.

Sadie, who at the time went by the name Johnnie, was about fifteen, living in poverty during the Great Depression just outside of Stringtown, when she says Clyde first stopped a black Model A Ford outside of the Seabourn home and asked if he could come in to wash up. The family didn’t have a radio or newspaper and had no idea who Clyde Barrow was or that there were outlaws like him in the area, so they welcomed him in as friendly neighbors. Clyde was immediately smitten for Johnnie and from that point forward paid regular visits to the Seabourn home, becoming a family friend in the process.

Clyde begged Johnnie’s mother on many occasions to let him go out with her daughter alone, but Mrs. Seabourn insisted that Johnnie could not go anywhere with him unless she was chaperoning. Still, Clyde’s pursuits were relentless, eventually culminating in a plot to kidnap Johnnie at a public dance in Stringtown. Johnnie says she was grabbed by one of Clyde’s henchmen, but police intervened as they attempted to throw her in their car and drive off. Shots rang out, resulting in the death of a local deputy and the serious wounding of the sheriff. Johnnie broke free in the mayhem and hid. Clyde and crew tore off down the dusty road in their vehicle through the barrage of gunfire. That night was the last time Johnnie ever spoke to Clyde.

Clyde Barrow's mug shot

For six months afterward, Johnnie stayed with nearby relatives in case Clyde ever returned to retrieve her. She dressed as a boy any time she was out of the house so she would not be recognized. A couple of years later, the family began to see headlines about the outlaw couple Bonnie and Clyde. Sadie stopped going by the name Johnnie after she got married and started a family. In Dance of Death, she says she is thankful she got away from Clyde to lead her own low-key, law-abiding life. Who knows what fate could have befallen her if Clyde’s plan had come to fruition? Maybe today, instead of Bonnie and Clyde, we’d be telling the legends of Johnnie and Clyde.

Dance of Death is not available online, and you’re not likely to encounter it in most stores. Those who are interested in picking up a copy can go to the Atoka Museum and Civil War Cemetery, where they are available for purchase.

Written By

Ben Luschen

Luschen joined the *Oklahoma Today*’ staff as Research Editor in 2021 and currently works as the magazine's Web Editor, managing the website and social media fronts. His past *Oklahoma Today* stories have ranged in content from the state's bee and quail industries to its vibrant art and music scenes. Not adverse to a road trip, Luschen is always on the lookout for the next big adventure. He is never out of opinions about the current state of Oklahoma City Thunder basketball.