Wind whipped along the darkened streets of a cold November night in Chicago. Autumn leaves flurried upward briefly before being regathered, dancing wistfully in the urgent breeze. Retro Jack zipped his jacket up as far as it would go and thrust his hands deeper inside his jeans front pockets. In the sky above a wafer thin full moon made for a ghostly presence as white cloud wisps drifted briefly over its surface like strands of white cotton.

Jack had walked from his hotel, along Diversey, making a left on Halstead. Passing a bar called “The Corner Pocket” he continued on walking briskly in the cool Chicago night air. Suddenly, there it was – right in front of him: 2433 North Lincoln Avenue…The Biograph Theatre…The infamous, though now dilapidated cinema, still with its façade proudly intact, closer inspection though now revealing a closed and seemingly derelict building.

The macabre fascination of the event that happened here over 70 years ago sent an involuntary shiver up Jack’s spine as he paused to reflect upon that brutal hot July night a lifetime ago…

Life and Times…

John Dillinger was a prolific bank robber during the 1930’s who gained international acclaim for his daring exploits. Banks were having miserable public relations problems during the Depression. Many of them failed, sweeping away the life savings of millions of hard working people. So bank robbers were not particularly viewed as criminals by the average American.

The daring daytime robberies and skilful getaways were glamorous and exciting, especially if the robbers were handsome, polite and photogenic. While America was in the grip of the Great Depression, here was a man striking back at poverty by taking from those who could afford to lose their money the most. And so John Dillinger, Harry Pierpont, Baby Face Nelson and the rest of the Dillinger Gang’s exploits were followed very closely by a Depression-weary public – enthralled by their every adventure as if it were a running radio show.

In the process of all this violence, Dillinger managed to somehow become an American folk hero. In 1934, driving a stolen car across state lines was a federal offence. The FBI suddenly had jurisdiction to go afer Dillinger, and director J Edgar Hoover immediately made apprehending him the agency’s top priority, deciding to hunt him down like a dog.

In Chicago Dillinger tried to keep a low profile. He hung out with his girlfriend, Polly Hamilton, and they stayed out of public places. But hiding out gets boring real quick, and in late July they decided it would be worth the risk to go see a movie.

The FBI had been tipped off by a phone call, said to be made by Anna Sage, who became immortalised as the “Lady In Red.” She would accompany Dillinger along with his girlfriend Polly Hamilton. She informed the FBI that Dillinger would be taking in a movie around 8pm at one of two theatres, the Marbro or the Biograph. So the FBI staked out both places.

The Last Picture Show…

Around 10:20pm on a hot Sunday night on July 22, 1934 a well dressed man wearing a straw hat and a pin-striped suit stepped out of the Biograph Theatre, where he, Hamilton and Sage had watched Manhattan Melodrama starring Clark Gable. No sooner had they reached the sidewalk when a man appeared and identified himself as Melvin Purvis of the FBI. Dillinger broke into a run and went for his gun. Purvis ordered him to surrender. Several shots rang out. Dillinger was dead before he hit the ground. Three of the FBI men who lay in wait had gunned him down. Two bullets hit him in the chest, a third shot shredding his left eye.