Yesterday I posted about a bank robbery from the 30s in Chanute which seemed to draw some interest. As a result, I thought Id shared a story will similar overtones involving local/recent history and prison. It was the spring of 1999, when I left Topeka and stopped in Yates Center on my way to Chanute to have coffee with friend and former employer Al Allison (long time Chanute resident and former owner of Oil Patch). Al had just finished meeting a few days before with a man from California who had been in town to make arrangements for his recently deceased Uncle, Burton Phillips. Burton Phillips was not well known around Yates Center...no one seemed to have any recollection about his past, only that he lived a few miles north of town on the NW corner of an intersection in a very very small trailer. He kept to himself, was well read, and rarely engaged in conversation. Much to Allisons surprise, the nephew came into the Yates Center coffee shop, asked for him by name, introduced himself and asked if Allison would agree to settle a few details related to Burtons estate....as apparently Burton had mentioned should anything happen to him, the family should ask for his friend Allison...given Burton thought him as a local man who could be trusted etc. The nephew explained hed been in town for just another day, as he was looking for something out at his Uncles trailer, but then would return to California, etc. Allison told the nephew how surprised he was that Burton had requested him, as he really didnt know Burton all that well, think they were really more acquaintances than friends. The nephew said, ...then you didnt know about Burtons past? No replied Allison. The nephew continued, ..well my Uncle was one of the most notorious bank robbers in Kansas in the 30s, he spent most of his life in Alcatraz with the Bird Man Robert Stroud, Al Capone, Doc Barker, Machine Gun Kelly...he spent a considerable amount of time on D block after an almost fatal assault on the Warden. Allison was shocked. As the nephew left, news of Burtons past exploits rapidly circulated around the coffee shop an on down the street to the general populace. A few days later on my way back home to Topeka, I stopped at Burtons home a little trailer nestled into a hedge grove. His meager life belongings lay thrown outside the trailer on the ground...some dishes, silverware, a few coffee cups and stacks of Wall Street Journals. The door was swinging in the breeze...yes, someone had ransacked the place looking for something of importance...but why would a guy chose to live out his life in such small confines...then it occurred to me...it was the size of a jail cell, only with a few more conveniences within reach...it indeed was what he was familiar with as home. As I walked back to my car I looked down into the ditch...there laying in the mud was his mailbox....on the side was painted, Burton Phillips....I pondered the question, if he were still alive, would he have sat down for an interview? Doubtful was my self answer...over the years I have thought of Burton...we actually traveled a few years ago and visited Alcatraz...I went to his cell...it was like all the others...about the size of a very small trailer :-) Since that time, Ive never met a local who said they really knew Burton Phillips...he remains just a man that lived his life in quite solitude among a community that had no idea of his past. alcatrazhistory/rock/rock-033.htm
Posted on: Thu, 31 Jul 2014 20:47:34 +0000
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