The Age: Recalling a 300-mile chase, kidnapping of a Texas trooper

By Marie Hughes, director of the Chambers County Museum at Wallisville

This exciting story was brought to my attention a few months ago by Mary Harmon from Mont Belvieu. A special thank you goes to her, the family members involved in the incident, and the Angola Prison Museum. Their efforts were instrumental in distinguishing fact from fiction to provide an accurate account of what transpired.

Mary Harmon began working for her father, Judge Fred Chitty, while she was still in high school, helping him by typing his documents. After Judge Chitty retired, Judge Ball was elected and pleaded with Mary to continue working for him. At that time, the county did not provide funding for office secretaries for justices of the peace, so Judge Ball offered to pay her $100 a month from his own pocket. Mary knew he genuinely needed help, so she reluctantly agreed, though it was clear that money was not her motivation.

Eventually, Mary informed Judge Ball that she couldn’t continue working for him. In response, he immediately tendered his resignation to the county. Determined to find a solution, Mary approached Paul Williams, believing he would excel in the role due to his excellent people skills. Paul agreed to take the job, but only on the condition that Mary would continue working there. Mary joked, “Well, this isn’t working; I’m right back where I started.”

Since the secretary’s position was still unpaid by the county, Paul proposed an unusual arrangement. He said to Mary, “Every month when I get my check, if I sign the back of it and hand it to you, will you work for me?”

Mary laughs about this arrangement, recalling, “They finally made it a paid position the following year because I was working for the J.P., the Highway Patrol, and everybody else who needed work done. But for the first year, I didn’t work for Paul—technically, he worked for me! That’s always been a standing joke between us.”

Kenneth Crone was one of the early Highway Patrol troopers in the area. One particular night, he was assisting the Port Arthur police with a pursuit when he received a call about a robbery. A couple from Winnie reported that they had been held up and robbed and urgently needed assistance. Crone, who was nearby, took the call over the radio and went to help.

Upon arrival, the couple pulled a gun on Kenneth and ordered him into their car. When he asked where they were headed, they told him it was none of his business. They drove all over the region, zig-zagging in and out of different areas.

Although the other law enforcement officers couldn’t communicate directly with Kenneth, they listened to his radio transmissions. By the time they reached Robertson County, there were 60 law enforcement vehicles in pursuit. During the drive, the man sat in the front seat, holding a pistol to Crone’s head.

The sheriff of Robertson County recognized the woman involved and said, “I know that girl; her mother lives here in the country, and her kids have been taken away and given to her mother. I bet that’s where they’re headed.” The sheriff and his deputies set up an ambush near the mother’s rural home.

“We sat by the radio during the entire time,” Mary recalled solemnly, “and it was a long and scary night. But that’s what law enforcement is.”

Setting the stage

Robert Samuel “Bobby” Dent, aged 22, was the male captor in the tense and uncertain journey on May 2, 1969. He was born in Port Arthur on July 4, 1946, as the only son of Robert Henry Dent and Rose Shumaker Dent.

Before the night of the incident, Bobby had been involved in numerous petty crimes. In 1964, at the age of 18, he was sentenced to two years in Jefferson County, Texas, for burglarizing coin-operated vending machines. He served 6 ½ months in Huntsville Prison before being paroled. However, his parole was revoked on Feb. 26, 1965, shortly after he was caught in Lake Charles, Louisiana, on Feb. 13, 1965, for breaking into Larry’s Service Station.

Upon being taken into custody, Bobby admitted to multiple burglaries committed around the same time and was charged with five counts of burglary, five thefts, and two attempted burglaries. On April 7, 1965, he was sentenced to ten years, later reduced to six.

His father, an electrician, died in Lake Charles two months later at the age of 47. Bobby served two years of his six-year sentence in Louisiana’s state prison, Angola. Once released, he was immediately returned to Huntsville Prison for his parole violation and was finally released on Sept. 25, 1968.

At the time of the kidnapping, the Calcasieu Parish Police Department was searching for him for two forgeries committed on Jan. 20, 1969.

After his release from prison, Bobby married Ila Faye Holiday of Wheelock, Texas, about four months before the incident. Ila Faye had two children from a previous marriage, and her ex-husband was incarcerated in Huntsville State Prison. Her children had been taken from her by Children’s Protective Services and placed in the care of her mother, Mildred Holiday, of Wheelock.

The saga began on May 2, 1969, in Port Arthur, where Bobby allegedly committed an armed robbery or “snatch and grab” (it is unclear which) at a gas station. The police began their pursuit around 1:36 a.m. Newspapers reported that a minor traffic violation had preempted the attempted traffic stop. With the Louisiana forgery charges hanging over his head and determined never to return to Angola Prison, Bobby chose to flee—a decision that set in motion the deadly events that followed.

James Kenneth Crone, aged 27, was born in Tyler, Texas, to J.B. and Iva Alice Mallory Crone. He joined the Texas Highway Patrol on March 22, 1967, and was assigned to the Winnie, Texas, office. Before joining the Highway Patrol, this 1950 Tyler graduate worked for General Electric Company. In 1960, he joined the U.S. Air Force and, upon his discharge in 1963, began working for the Morning Telegraph, having prepared for this job by taking several classes at Tyler Community College. Mary Harmon, who knew Kenneth well, described him as an easy-going, quiet, and soft-spoken young man liked by everyone in their law enforcement circle.

At the end of his shift, Crone looked forward to some well-earned rest. However, he received a request from the Port Arthur Police Department to assist in stopping the fleeing Dent couple. Deputy Wesley King of the Chambers County Sheriff’s Department also received the call, and both Crone and King worked together to set up a roadblock.

“They had been told the Dents were driving a Corvette,” said Wesley King’s son, Wesley, Jr. “They planned to fire buckshot into the radiator to disable the vehicle. However, when the vehicle came into view, it was not a Corvette but a 1963 Corvair, which had an air-cooled engine in the back. Realizing their original plan wouldn’t work, they fired shots over the top of the vehicle, then fell in behind them in pursuit. Dad told Kenneth he was going to ram the back of the vehicle to stop them, but just as he was about to, his car blew a tire. He abandoned the patrol car on the side of the road, Kenneth picked him up, and they continued the pursuit down Hamshire Road north of Winnie.”

Dent’s success in outrunning them was doomed from the start, as the Corvair was not built to sustain high speeds, and the engine eventually blew. The Dents fled into nearby rice fields on foot, quickly blending into the shadows of the night. Wesley called in bloodhounds, which he used to search for the couple for four hours, but the flooded rice field hindered the dogs from picking up their scent.

Crone said they were in the process of calling off the search around 6 a.m. when he heard a call over his patrol car radio from Chambers County. Two people at the Robert Bauer ranch near Hamshire had been beaten and robbed by two hitchhikers who then stole their car. Bauer reported that the couple had arrived covered in mud. Despite his exhaustion, Crone set out to investigate and get a description of the stolen car, believing the couple may have been attacked by the Dents.

Of the five kids who were in the house that morning, only three are still alive, according to Linda Bauer, the youngest child of Robert and Mary Bauer. “I was only five at the time and slept through the whole thing, but the only thing separating my head from the gun in the room was a hollow sliding door,” she recalled. Linda explained that the Dents were likely drawn to their house because of the security light in the front yard, and because her mother was already up making breakfast, so there were lights on in the house.

The Dents came to the door and claimed they had been carjacked by two hitchhikers who left them tied to a fencepost without shoes. Although it seemed odd that they would take their shoes, the Dents said the hitchhikers stole their car, prompting Linda’s dad to call the sheriff for help. Linda recounted with a laugh how her mom invited them in, offering them clean clothes and shoes, reflecting a time when people were more trusting.

When Trooper Crone arrived, Linda’s mom met him outside while her dad was on the phone with Sheriff Otter. She directed the officer inside and went around to the back of the house. Once inside, Dent, who was hiding behind the door, pulled a gun on Crone and took his weapon. Dent had a small gun, which he gave to his wife after disarming Crone. Kenneth, expecting to meet an injured couple, was caught completely off guard.

Linda continued to describe the scene inside the house. Dent demanded that her dad get off the phone, and when he didn’t comply, Dent yanked the phone off the wall. During all this commotion, Linda’s siblings were in different parts of the house. Carol and Janet were in their bedroom, Marilyn, the oldest sister, was in the bathroom getting ready for school, Jack was in his room, and Linda was asleep.

Linda noted that Carol later mentioned they were getting ready for school, but all their clothes were in the utility room at the opposite end of the house. This inconvenience probably saved them from walking into the middle of the situation. Carol, wearing her housecoat and pajamas, peeked around the corner to see who was there and saw Dent with the gun. They quickly retreated to their rooms and hid in the closet.

“Both of them told me, ‘Like hiding in the bottom of the closet would do any good,'” Linda said, laughing.

At that point, Dent noticed the children in the house and, looking directly at Linda’s dad, said, “Let’s go.”

“The wife told Dad to come on but Dad, being a quick thinker, said, ‘he was talking to you, not me,’ so she left without him. That was the second time he had fooled her as when she asked if there was another phone in the house, he told her yes, but it was disabled when he yanked this one from the wall. Dent had told Dad before he left if he called anyone, they would come back for him and his family,” she continued.

Linda described how her mom was terrified and sent the kids to school with strict instructions not to tell anyone what had happened. Carol and Janet attended Nome School, where they walked under long covered walkways from the bus drop-off to the school. As they approached, they saw a line of police cars speeding down Highway 90. While other kids remarked on how cool it was, Carol and Janet knew what was happening but kept quiet. Eventually, one of them confided in a teacher, who then allowed them to listen to news updates on the hour. This is how they learned of Dent’s fate. Their dad had to testify in court but successfully pleaded with the lawyers to leave their mom out of it, handling the legal matters himself.

After leaving the Bauer home, Dent forced Trooper Crone into the driver’s seat of his patrol car and positioned himself on the front passenger floorboard. Joining her husband and Officer Crone in the patrol car, Ila Faye positioned herself in the back seat with Crone’s shotgun. As they drove away, they passed Wesley King, Sr. and other officers who were set up on the perimeter, waiting for a description of the stolen vehicle. Crone did not acknowledge them or make radio contact, so the officers immediately knew something was wrong and fell in behind him.

The Dents then began a chaotic, six-hour, 300-mile journey. Their decisions were made on the fly, driven by desperation rather than strategy. The erratic trip reflected their mounting panic and lack of a clear plan.

Once the entourage departed from the farmhouse, Bauer immediately called Deputy Hoffpauir, letting him know what had transpired.  The news of Crone’s abduction was then broadcast to all law enforcement agencies.

Winding their way to Wheelock

Dent had patrolman Crone turn off his patrol car radio for the first 30 minutes of their journey as he directed him to drive toward Beaumont.

“His original plan was to go back to Louisiana,” said Brad Crone, son of Kenneth Crone.

This tense directive left the officers in pursuit unsure of Crone’s location or situation.

Brad continued, “Dad told him that Louisiana would never allow him to cross the state line and they would shoot him on sight, so Dent had him turn around and head down Hwy 90 towards China.”

During this time, the danger for Crone was palpable, as he was at the mercy of Dent’s unpredictable decisions.

They stopped at the Louis Gulf Station and Café in China, Texas, to get fuel. The station owner, Robert G. Louis, age 55, recalled his unsettling encounter.

“I saw the shotgun on the back seat with Mrs. Dent and noticed Crone’s holster was empty. I asked him (Crone) if everything was all right,” Louis said. “He said everything was just fine. But I knew better than that. The guy in the front seat looked like the kind of character that would kill that patrolman, but there was nothing I could do.”

Meanwhile, Captain Jerry Miller, who was the head of the Highway Patrol Office in Beaumont, had fallen in behind Crone’s vehicle. He maintained a calming dialogue with Dent, trying to manage the volatile situation as best as he could.

As the tense journey continued, somewhere between Raywood and Dayton, a Chambers County deputy attempted to ram Crone’s patrol car to disable it, but only nicked the bumper. This caused Dent to become very agitated, threatening to kill Crone. The atmosphere in the car grew even more tense, but Captain Miller’s efforts to talk Dent down were successful in preventing immediate violence.

Dent then instructed Crone to drive toward Houston. As they approached the city, they found themselves stuck in rush hour traffic.

Reality and resignation set in

By this time, law enforcement agencies statewide, aware of the unfolding saga, began joining the officers pursuing the abductors. Each new county brought an influx of patrol cars, eventually forming a convoy of about 60 vehicles. Helicopters joined the pursuit, observing from the air and adding a new level of anxiety for Bobby, who once again threatened to shoot Crone. Captain Miller quickly calmed him down, telling him the helicopters belonged to the news media.

Despite the dangerous position he was in, Crone maintained an extraordinary level of composure. Both Crone and Miller, able to execute a high-octane situation in such a placid manner, were a testament to their training and aptitude as law enforcement officials.

Bobby, realizing all avenues of escape were quickly closing, eventually accepted that their capture was inevitable and resigned himself to their fate. Assuming they would be incarcerated for a long time, he decided they should see Ila Faye’s children first, who were in the custody of her mother in Wheelock, Texas. He informed Capt. Miller of their desire to go to Bryan.

Miller instructed them to turn around to avoid Houston traffic and head east on I-10, then turn north onto Highway 146 at Mont Belvieu. From there, they meandered through Dayton, Cleveland, Navasota, and Bryan. In Navasota, Dent requested a bag of lunchmeat and bread be left on the side of the highway, and Miller obliged.

Twice, the Dents were allowed to stop, unhindered, to refuel and take restroom breaks. Capt. Miller said he simply tried to pacify Dent by allowing him food and time to get gas. Throughout the chase, Miller urged Dent to pull over and surrender, assuring him he would not be hurt, but Dent refused. Dent, in stark contrast to the even-toned Miller, was an emotional time bomb, repeatedly threatening to shoot Crone when he felt vulnerable.

In College Station, they made their last stop before Wheelock at a Texaco Station to refuel. Here, Dent handcuffed Crone and took over driving, further heightening the tension and unpredictability of the situation.

The last leg of the journey

During the last leg of the journey to Wheelock, DPS Capt. Jerry Miller communicated with Dent via his police radio and negotiated a deal.

Dent told Miller, “I want 10 or 15 minutes to talk to the kids and love them ‘cause I don’t think they’ll be seeing us again. Then give us a 15-minute head start.”

Understanding the emotional weight of Dent’s request, Capt. Miller agreed and informed the Robertson County Sheriff’s Department of their destination.

E. T. “Sonny” Elliott, serving his fifth year as Robertson County sheriff, received word of the destination and took immediate action to prevent potential harm. He decided to relocate the children and Mrs. Holiday to the home of relatives, in case a shootout developed. Mr. Holiday and his son stayed at the house but slipped out the back door, hiding in the pasture once the abductors arrived.

Sheriff Elliott strategically positioned men in the bushes outside while he waited inside the house with two other officers.

“I made the plans and gave the orders,” said Elliott. “We were to do whatever was necessary to release the patrolman.”

He described the tense moment when he watched through the window and saw Dent holding a gun to Crone’s back.

“The only words spoken were when Crone hesitated at the door and Dent told him to go ahead,” Elliott explained.

Recalling the decisive moment, Elliott said, “I motioned to Crone to get out of the way, and I fired. The girl had the pistol in her hand, but she didn’t try to use it. You can’t imagine how quick it happened.”

Sheriff Elliott described how Dent saw him as soon as he walked in the door, turning the gun toward Elliott and appearing ready to fire.

“I already had my gun leveled on him, and that’s what saved me,” the sheriff confessed.

The blast from the .12 gauge hit Dent in the face and neck, knocking him out the door. Despite the necessity of his actions, the sheriff expressed regret at having to shoot Dent. He noted that, in his 25-year career as a lawman, Dent was the first person he had ever shot and hoped he would be the last.

Dent was taken to a Bryan hospital, where he died an hour and a half later. Mrs. Dent was taken into custody and returned to Chambers and then Jefferson County, bringing the dramatic saga to a close.

Capt. Miller, waiting with the other patrol cars several miles away, was notified that Dent had been shot. Reflecting on the situation, he said,

“I promised him no snipers and no roadblocks, and my word was good,” Miller said. “The only thing I lied to that boy about was the officer in the house and that the copter belonged to a radio station.”

Despite offering Dent many opportunities to surrender with the promise he would not be harmed, Dent insisted that law enforcement would have to kill him, Miller added.

Throughout the ordeal, Miller felt he had developed something akin to friendship with Dent during the hours he spent trying to soothe and pacify him.

Crone, weary after his long and stressful ordeal, expressed his gratitude to everyone who had worked tirelessly to ensure his safety.

“Thank God and thank you fellows,” Crone said to the officers who rescued him. “I’m tired and I’m scared and I’m hungry. They held a gun on me most of the time, one in my neck for a while. I didn’t know whether he would harm me or not, but I was hoping anyway. He didn’t like all those cars back there, but they looked good to me.”

Crone recalled telling Dent that he didn’t want to get into any murder scrape. Dent’s response was bleak: he said he might as well; he didn’t have anything to live for.

Reflecting on the entire experience, Miller remarked, “It’s been a long day,” before he and Crone began their long trip back to Beaumont.

As they departed, Crone added, “I never want to repeat such an experience.”

Officer Kenneth Crone Honored

Officer Crone was honored on Kenneth Crone Day in Winnie on May 16, 1969. Local newspapers reported that the celebration was sponsored by the Winnie Chamber of Commerce, led by Judge Jack Cravy of Hamshire, Justice of the Peace of Precinct 4, Jefferson County, and Judge Mary Dugat of Winnie, Justice of the Peace of Precinct 1. Citizens of the area gathered to honor the patrolman, who was abducted and held hostage for over 10 hours. Gifts were presented by local businessmen to show their appreciation for the law enforcement agencies involved.

Crone was given a check for $400 and an engraved plaque in the shape of Texas with the inscription, “In appreciation, for outstanding service to the people and courage in the line of duty.” Reflecting on the event, Crone said, “I think I’m more nervous now than I was on May 2nd when held hostage.” About 250 people attended the event, including his mother, Iva Crone of Tyler, his brother and family, and his sister.

Chambers County Deputy Wesley King was also honored for his efforts in searching for the fugitives on foot, tromping through muddy rice fields with bloodhounds for four hours and covering about six miles. Others recognized included Chambers County Sheriff Louis Otter, Deputy Doyle Pounds of Anahuac, Deputy Harvey Glenn of Tri-City Beach, Sgt. Tom Carey of Winnie, DPS Patrolman Harry Styles of Anahuac, and Patrolman John Bailey from Port Arthur. Out-of-town guests included Judge V. P. McManus of Wallisville, Captain McCullar of the Department of Public Safety of Austin, Harold Hicks of the Chamber of Commerce of Beaumont, and Mayor Rose of Beaumont.

Steven Spielberg, beginning his career in 1971, was just getting his feet wet as a director when he learned of the kidnapping of Patrolman Kenneth Crone. He made his filmmaking debut with the movie The Sugarland Express in 1974, based on the harrowing pursuit of kidnappers Bobby and Ila Faye Dent. Unfortunately, the movie ended up being a box office flop, which is a shame, because the true rendition of those suspenseful hours would have made a great movie.

Spielberg strayed so far from the facts that the film bore little resemblance to the real-life event.

“From the starting credits to the very end, that movie is full of fiction,” said Crone to the Hometown Press of Winnie in a 1998 interview.

The Hometown Press reported that because it was so different from the actual story, law enforcement refused to be a part of it until they were pressured by the governor to cooperate.

“Dad said the only thing they got right in the movie is there were a lot of cop cars,” laughed son Brad Crone.

Many of us give little thought to the danger law enforcement officers face each time they don their uniforms.

“Once we put on our uniform, we make sure and kiss our wife goodbye before we walk out the door,” said Wesley King, Jr. of Anahuac, “because we may not walk back in. There is no routine traffic stop; each one can turn into a catastrophe in the blink of an eye. Our service to the community is first and foremost, sacrificing precious family occasions to be ever present when needed. But that is our job, and we do it without reservation.”

Note: Ila Faye Dent, who was 21 at the time of the incident, received a five-year sentence for her part in the kidnapping but served only five months. She died of natural causes in 1992 while working at a motel in Livingston, Texas.