Clutter Home In Holcomb Kansas

A Good Walk NOT Wasted: In Cold Blood.....

Wells, who had shared a cell with one of the other two, had worked for Herbert Clutter at his farm prior to being locked up. He told Smith and Hickock that Mr. Clutter kept a large amount of cash on hand in a safe in his house. Looking for the quick and easy score, Smith and Hickock drove all night to reach the Clutter home, driving down the long driveway surrounded by Japanese maples. When they reached the house, four of the six family members were at home. Herb, his wife Bonnie, and their high school aged children Kenyon, 15 and Nancy, 16, were all at home. What wasn’t there was cash. Herb Clutter did business by check and kept less than 50 dollars at home. The case had always fascinated me. I read the book, a masterpiece of suspense that saves the gory details until the end. I saw the movie with Robert Blake, and wondered how evil could just come to the heartland like that. The Clutters were an exemplary family—self made and well respected around town, with no enemies. How something so random, and yet so pointedly evil, could happen to nice people still mystifies me. Ive always had an interest in visiting crime scenes, especially famous houses, and also the graves of noted people, not just crime victims. Ive been to Jon Benet Ramsey’s grave, in a nice little cemetery in Marietta, Georgia. Ive been to Ty Cobb’s crypt in Royston, Georga, Shoeless Joe Jackson’s grave in Greenville, South Carolina and more, including the Lizzie Borden house in Fall River, Massachussetts. Just something I like to do. I went to the office, where a lovely man named Rusty Richardson took the care and time to give me a detailed description of where the graves were located and how to get there. He also took the time to draw me a diagram of Holcomb, with the location of the Clutter’s house, and also a small park that was dedicated to their memory in recent years. It seems that the killers got all of the attention and for decades the victims, good people, have all but been forgotten. I am hoping to help to keep their memories alive a bit here, as I write this. It was a heavy day. As I cross the country, trying to make sense of life, mine and in general, and I meet all the damned fine people I have met...

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