What happened to them?
Chances are, you’ve seen the movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, starring Paul Newman, Robert Redford and Katherine Ross. The movie ends with a self-evident question mark. While most historical narratives place Parker and Longabaugh’s likely demise at the hands of the Bolivian Army, inescapable facts in real life may forever facilitate alternative endings.
Originally published in the Gainesville Times on Tuesday, December 13, 1988, Criminology Professor Alex Taylor takes a shot at the mystery of the three principals of the film — an unsolved case that continues to this day.
A transcript and additional commentary follow the column.
Transcript:
The real fate of Butch, Etta and Sundance
Back in October, several friends and I were staying at ranch located 12 miles south of Norwood, Colo., 12,000 feet up against the base of Lone Cone Mountain. It was here that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid came with Etta Place to hide out after a bank robbery in Telluride, Colo., in 1899. Oldtimers in the area believe part of the gold shipment taken in the robbery is still hidden there. . . yet, others insist Butch came home from Bolivia in 1910, retrieved the gold and lived a peaceful life for another 27 years.
Those of you who saw the movie “Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,” starring Paul Newman and Robert Redford, were treated to historic facts that were amazingly accurate for Hollywood’s version of social events. The most glaring discrepancy is the version of Etta Place. Sundance’s girlfriend, being a former schoolteacher.
Etta was born near Denver, Colo., in 1880 and became a member of the gang in the winter of 1896-97, a very tender age for a schoolteacher. Several Western historians believe Etta’s alma mater was Fanny Porter’s bordello in Fort Worth, Texas.
Etta’s beauty is certainly not disputed. Old photographs show a hauntingly beautiful young woman who strangely resembles actress Jane Seymour.
Butch Cassidy, whose real name was Robert Parker, was born in 1866 in Utah Territory, on his Mormon father’s isolated ranch. An aging rustler named Mike Cassidy, who worked on the ranch, influenced young Bob Parker into becoming a small-time bank robber. In 1896, Parker adopted the name of the old bandit, who had since died, then rode north to join a wild bunch headed by another young desperado known as the Sundance Kid.
Born near Sundance, Wyo., in 1863, Harry Longbaugh gained his criminal name after spending a year in jail for horse stealing when he was only 15 years old. Upon his release, Harry was dubbed the Sundance Kid.
In 1901, Butch, the Kid and Etta traveled to New York City, where they hid out for one year. Leaving in 1902, they sailed for South America, where several more holdups were committed against mule trains in Argentina. It was here the gang became friendly with a young mining engineer named Percy Seibert, who eventually learned their identities and encouraged them to go straight.
In 1907, Etta returned to New York for reasons of health. Sundance took her back but quickly returned to Argentina, where he and Butch decided to move on to Bolivian gold fields. When two American bandits were killed by Bolivian soldiers near San Vincente in 1908, it was Seibert who identified them as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, although the bodies were shot to pieces.
In the late 1920s, a man known as William Thadeus Phillips, who had fought as a mercenary in the Mexican Revolution, was sitting in a bar in Mexico City. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to look up at the very familiar, and still beautiful, face of Etta Place, and her companion — the Sundance Kid.
Today, if you travel to Spokane, Wash., 17 miles south of Spokane, look for a small cemetery and the gravestone of William T. Phillips, who died in 1937. You’ll be standing near the remains of a lonely man once known as Bob Parker.
Alex Taylor’s column on criminology and history appears in The Times on Tuesdays.
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Hardcore fact checkers <cough cough> might be quick to zero on Etta’s background, the Telluride gold, and their survival after 1908 as generally dependent on repeated folklore.
Truth is, we may never know the truth, and that makes for great storytelling. <cough>
