. . This is about all I remember when we lived in Fort Bragg (Oh! We kids used to jump
from a hay-loft, holding an umbrella, onto a pile of hay on the ground). . . . My next
recollection is several years later when we were living in Calif.? Nevada? I recall a very
odious episode between my mother and a Negro. We children slept on a porch in the
summertime. One of our beds was directly under my mother and father’s room. Everyone
of us kids had taken a good look through the partly open curtain and seen what was
going on. Dad had hired a Negro(Sam) to do odd jobs around the farm, or ranch, while he
was working somewhere down the road. He used to come home late in the evening in his
Model A truck. I do not recall the chain of events but assumed Dad had known or
suspected what was happening. It ended in a separation between Mom & Dad & Mom
took us kids to San Francisco. She run off with Dad’s truck & all of the many souvenirs he
brought from Alaska. I believe this was in 1935 (?). … In Frisco I was continuously in
trouble. I had started to run around with a gang, all of which were older than myself. My
mother was always drunk, never in a fit condition to properly provide and care for us. I
run as free & wild as a coyote. Their was no rule or discipline, or anyone to show me right
from wrong I came & went as I pleased — until my first encounter with Trouble. I was in &
out of Detention Homes many times for running away from home & stealing. I remember
one place I was sent to. I had weak kidneys & wet the bed every night. This was very
humiliating to me, but I couldn’t control myself. I was very severely beaten by the cottage
mistress, who had called me names and made fun of me in front of all the boys. She
used to come around at all hours of the night to see if I wet the bed. She would throw
back the covers & furiously beat me with a large black leather belt — pull me out of bed by
my hair & drag me to the bathroom & throw me in the tub & turn the cold water on & tell
me to wash myself and the sheets. Every night was a nightmare. Later on she thought it
was very funny to put some ointment on my penis. This was almost unbearable. It burned
something terrible. She was later discharged from her job. But this never changed my
mind about her & what I could have done to her & all the people who made fun of me.
Then, because Dr. Jones had told him he must have the statement that very afternoon, Smith
skipped forward to early adolescence and the years he and his father had lived together, the two
of them wandering all over the West and Far West, prospecting, trapping, doing odd jobs:
I loved my father but there were times when this love and affection I had for him drained
from my heart like wasted water. Whenever he would not try to understand my problems.
Give me a little consideration & voice & responsibility. I had to get away from him. When I
was sixteen I joined the Merchant Marine. In 1948 I joined the army — the recruiting officer
gave me a break and upped my test. From this time on I started to realize the importance
of an education. This only added to the hatred and bitterness I held for others. I began to
get into fights. I threw a Japanese policeman off a bridge into the water. I was courtmartialed for demolishing a Japanese cafe. I was court-martialed again in Kyoto, Japan,
for stealing a Japanese taxicab. I was in the army almost four years. I had many violent
outbursts of anger while I served time in Japan & Korea. I was in Korea 15 months, was
rotated and sent back to the states — and was given special recognition as being the first
Korean Vet to come back to the territory of Alaska. Big write up, picture in paper, paid trip
to Alaska by air, all the trimmings. … I finished my army service in Ft. Lewis, Washington.
Smith’s pencil sped almost indecipherably as he hurried toward more recent history: the
motorcycle accident that had crippled him, the burglary in Phillipsburg, Kansas, that had led to his
first prison sentence:
… I was sentenced to 5 to 10 years for grand larceny, burglary and jailbreak. I felt I was
very unjustly dealt with. I became very bitter while I was in prison. Upon my release I was
supposed to go to Alaska with my father — I didn’t go — I worked for a while in Nevada and
Idaho — went to Las Vegas and continued to Kansas where got into the situation I’m in
now. No time for more.
He signed his name, and added a postscript:
«Would like to speak to you again. There’s much I haven’t said that may interest you. I
have always felt a remarkable exhilaration being among people with a purpose and
sense of dedication to carry out that purpose. I felt this about you in your presence.»
Hickock did not write with his companion’s intensity. He often stopped to listen to the questioning
of a prospective juror, or to
stare at the faces around him — particularly, and with plain displeasure, the muscular face of the
county attorney, Duane Wen, who was his own age, twenty-eight. But his statement, written in a
stylized script that looked like slanting rain, was finished before the court adjourned for the day:
I will try to tell you all I can about myself, though most of my early life is vague to me — up
until about my tenth birthday. My school years went quite the same as most other boy my
own age. I had my share of fights, girls, and other things that go with a growing boy. My
home life was also normal, but as I told you before, I was hardly ever allowed to leave my
yard and visit with playmates. My father was always strict about us boys [his brother and
him] in that line. Also I had to help my dad quite a lot around the house. … I can only
remember my mother and dad having one argument that amounted to anything. What it
was about, I don’t know.. . . My dad bought me a bicycle once, and I believe that I was
the proudest boy in town. It was a girl’s bike and he changed it over to a boy’s. He
painted it all up and it looked like new. But I had a lot of toys when I was little, a lot for the
financial condition that my folks were in. We were always what you would call semi-poor.
Never down and out, but several times on the verge of it. My dad was a hard worker and
did his best to provide for us. My mother also was always a hard worker. Her house was
always neat, and we had clean clothes aplenty. I remember my dad used to wear those
old fashioned flat crown caps, and he would make me wear them too, and I didn’t like
them. … In high-school I did real well, made above average grades the first year or two.
But then started falling off a little. I had a girl friend. She was a nice girl, and I never once
tried to touch her anyway but just kissing. It was a real clean courtship. . . . While in
school I participated in all the sports, and received 9 letters in all. Basketball, football,
track and baseball. My senior year was best. I never had any steady girl, just played the
field. That was when I had my first relationship with a girl. Of course I told the boys that
I’d had a lot of girls. … I got offers from two colleges to play ball, but never attended any
of them. After I graduated from school I went to work for the Santa Fe railroad, and
stayed until the following winter when I got laid off. The following spring I got a job with
the Roark Motor Company. I had been working there about four months when I had an
automobile wreck with a company car. I was in the hospital several days with extensive
head injuries. While I was in the condition I was in I couldn’t find another job, so I was
unemployed most of the winter. Meantime, I had met a girl and fallen in love. Her dad
was a Baptist preacher and resented me going with her. In July we were married. All hell
broke loose from her dad until he learned she was pregnant. But still he never wished me
good luck and that has always gone against the grain. After we were married, I worked at
a service-station near Kansas City. I worked from 8 at night till 8 in the morning.
Sometimes my wife stayed with me all night — she was afraid I couldn’t keep awake, so
she came to help me. Then I got an offer to work at Perry Pontiac, which I gladly
accepted. It was very satisfactory, though I didn’t make a lot of money — $75 a week. I got
along good with the other men, and was well liked by my boss. I worked there five years.
. . . During my employment there was the beginning of some of the lowest things I have
ever done.
Here Hickock revealed his pedophiliac tendencies, and after describing several sample
experiences, wrote:
I know it is wrong. But at the time I never give any thought to whether it is right or
