Bessie Arnold, was the third child and oldest of two daughters born to the union of William Bunyon Arnold and the former Mary Alice Powell. As the oldest daughter, much of the care of the younger children fell to her early on. When her mother died on Independence Day of 1919, as other families celebrated our nation's birth with parades and fireworks, Bessie Arnold, her father, and her siblings wept. At age 22, Bessie suddenly found herself thrust into the role of homemaker to her father and mother to her sister and younger brothers.
Her youngest brother, Clifford, had just turned 12 years old four days before his beloved mother died. It would fall to Bessie to provide him with most of the maternal nuturing he would receive thereafter.
Time passed and the younger children began to drift away from their father's home. Within five years of losing her mother, Bessie herself left in the hope of making some kind of life for herself before time took its toll and her options, which were already limited, disappeared all together. When only Clifford was left and he was age 17, the time came when she felt free to explore whatever possibilities were available.
Bessie relocated from east Texas to the town of Amarillo in Potter County, in what is known as the Texas Panhandle. With no training for special skills, she worked two jobs as a waitress in order to support herself. In 1924, she was writing letters regularly to her kid brother about the handsome young man named Lloyd Sommers she had met and who was paying court to her. Lloyd worked as night manager in a bakery near one of the cafes in which she worked. Those letters, which number eight or 10, are tied with the narrow, baby blue satin ribbon that Clifford lovingly used to bundle his treasured letters.
The letter postmarked August 04, 1924 is filled with joy as Bessie tells Clifford, that she and Lloyd had been married earlier that day. The short letter spoke of her hope for the happiness-filled future she would know as the wife of Lloyd Sommers. It is the last letter she wrote to Clifford.
Early in October, two months into her marriage, just as she was reporting for work for the breakfast trade, a woman walked in, aimed a gun at Bessie, and shot her four times. The happy young bride lay mortally wounded on the cold floor of that cafe. She died later in an Amarillo hospital, telling her husband that she had not been unfaithful to him.
The shooter, a 17-year-old woman whose husband of five years was the 31-year-old fry cook at the same eatery, had convinced herself that Bessie was carrying on with her husband. Both the husband and Lloyd Sommers denied such accusations, agreeing that it was a case of mistaken identity.
Bessie Arnold Sommers' life was cut short by a child bride with an overactive imagination and poor judgment.
On the day after the shooting, Bessie Arnold Sommers, happy new bride, at age 27, was laid to rest in Llano Cemetery, to spend eternity in the middle of acres and acres of people she never met.
In the first week of December a trial was held in a stifling Potter County courtroom packed to the rafters with curious onlookers. In an era where facts were of less interest than the suggestion of scandalous impropriety, the town gossips enjoyed a feeding frenzy, tearing up in sympathy over the defendant's heartbreaking story, the most significant one which was never proven because neither the prosecution nor the defense made the effort. Not a single tear was shed for the young bride who lay mouldering in that grave in Llano Cemetery.
The Associated Press sent a reporter to cover the trial due to something referred to as "The Unwritten Law", in other words, it was a law that was not on the books. As nearly as this writer can figure, it must have been something akin to a betrayed spouse who has caught his/her spouse "in flagrante delicto" with a third party and killed one or both and then got away with it because he or she was the injured party. One can only feel amazement that two dead people suffered less of a loss than a betrayed spouse.
Witnesses were brought in, testified, and left. No one provided testimony of anything more than a suggestion of possible misbehavior occurring at any time between Bessie Arnold Sommers and the defendant's husband. The trial began and ended in less than a week. The defendant was found guilty and sentenced to five years. Suspended.
Justice does not appear to have been done. Bessie Arnold Sommers deserved better.
Her youngest brother, Clifford, had just turned 12 years old four days before his beloved mother died. It would fall to Bessie to provide him with most of the maternal nuturing he would receive thereafter.
Time passed and the younger children began to drift away from their father's home. Within five years of losing her mother, Bessie herself left in the hope of making some kind of life for herself before time took its toll and her options, which were already limited, disappeared all together. When only Clifford was left and he was age 17, the time came when she felt free to explore whatever possibilities were available.
Bessie relocated from east Texas to the town of Amarillo in Potter County, in what is known as the Texas Panhandle. With no training for special skills, she worked two jobs as a waitress in order to support herself. In 1924, she was writing letters regularly to her kid brother about the handsome young man named Lloyd Sommers she had met and who was paying court to her. Lloyd worked as night manager in a bakery near one of the cafes in which she worked. Those letters, which number eight or 10, are tied with the narrow, baby blue satin ribbon that Clifford lovingly used to bundle his treasured letters.
The letter postmarked August 04, 1924 is filled with joy as Bessie tells Clifford, that she and Lloyd had been married earlier that day. The short letter spoke of her hope for the happiness-filled future she would know as the wife of Lloyd Sommers. It is the last letter she wrote to Clifford.
Early in October, two months into her marriage, just as she was reporting for work for the breakfast trade, a woman walked in, aimed a gun at Bessie, and shot her four times. The happy young bride lay mortally wounded on the cold floor of that cafe. She died later in an Amarillo hospital, telling her husband that she had not been unfaithful to him.
The shooter, a 17-year-old woman whose husband of five years was the 31-year-old fry cook at the same eatery, had convinced herself that Bessie was carrying on with her husband. Both the husband and Lloyd Sommers denied such accusations, agreeing that it was a case of mistaken identity.
Bessie Arnold Sommers' life was cut short by a child bride with an overactive imagination and poor judgment.
On the day after the shooting, Bessie Arnold Sommers, happy new bride, at age 27, was laid to rest in Llano Cemetery, to spend eternity in the middle of acres and acres of people she never met.
In the first week of December a trial was held in a stifling Potter County courtroom packed to the rafters with curious onlookers. In an era where facts were of less interest than the suggestion of scandalous impropriety, the town gossips enjoyed a feeding frenzy, tearing up in sympathy over the defendant's heartbreaking story, the most significant one which was never proven because neither the prosecution nor the defense made the effort. Not a single tear was shed for the young bride who lay mouldering in that grave in Llano Cemetery.
The Associated Press sent a reporter to cover the trial due to something referred to as "The Unwritten Law", in other words, it was a law that was not on the books. As nearly as this writer can figure, it must have been something akin to a betrayed spouse who has caught his/her spouse "in flagrante delicto" with a third party and killed one or both and then got away with it because he or she was the injured party. One can only feel amazement that two dead people suffered less of a loss than a betrayed spouse.
Witnesses were brought in, testified, and left. No one provided testimony of anything more than a suggestion of possible misbehavior occurring at any time between Bessie Arnold Sommers and the defendant's husband. The trial began and ended in less than a week. The defendant was found guilty and sentenced to five years. Suspended.
Justice does not appear to have been done. Bessie Arnold Sommers deserved better.
Bessie Arnold, was the third child and oldest of two daughters born to the union of William Bunyon Arnold and the former Mary Alice Powell. As the oldest daughter, much of the care of the younger children fell to her early on. When her mother died on Independence Day of 1919, as other families celebrated our nation's birth with parades and fireworks, Bessie Arnold, her father, and her siblings wept. At age 22, Bessie suddenly found herself thrust into the role of homemaker to her father and mother to her sister and younger brothers.
Her youngest brother, Clifford, had just turned 12 years old four days before his beloved mother died. It would fall to Bessie to provide him with most of the maternal nuturing he would receive thereafter.
Time passed and the younger children began to drift away from their father's home. Within five years of losing her mother, Bessie herself left in the hope of making some kind of life for herself before time took its toll and her options, which were already limited, disappeared all together. When only Clifford was left and he was age 17, the time came when she felt free to explore whatever possibilities were available.
Bessie relocated from east Texas to the town of Amarillo in Potter County, in what is known as the Texas Panhandle. With no training for special skills, she worked two jobs as a waitress in order to support herself. In 1924, she was writing letters regularly to her kid brother about the handsome young man named Lloyd Sommers she had met and who was paying court to her. Lloyd worked as night manager in a bakery near one of the cafes in which she worked. Those letters, which number eight or 10, are tied with the narrow, baby blue satin ribbon that Clifford lovingly used to bundle his treasured letters.
The letter postmarked August 04, 1924 is filled with joy as Bessie tells Clifford, that she and Lloyd had been married earlier that day. The short letter spoke of her hope for the happiness-filled future she would know as the wife of Lloyd Sommers. It is the last letter she wrote to Clifford.
Early in October, two months into her marriage, just as she was reporting for work for the breakfast trade, a woman walked in, aimed a gun at Bessie, and shot her four times. The happy young bride lay mortally wounded on the cold floor of that cafe. She died later in an Amarillo hospital, telling her husband that she had not been unfaithful to him.
The shooter, a 17-year-old woman whose husband of five years was the 31-year-old fry cook at the same eatery, had convinced herself that Bessie was carrying on with her husband. Both the husband and Lloyd Sommers denied such accusations, agreeing that it was a case of mistaken identity.
Bessie Arnold Sommers' life was cut short by a child bride with an overactive imagination and poor judgment.
On the day after the shooting, Bessie Arnold Sommers, happy new bride, at age 27, was laid to rest in Llano Cemetery, to spend eternity in the middle of acres and acres of people she never met.
In the first week of December a trial was held in a stifling Potter County courtroom packed to the rafters with curious onlookers. In an era where facts were of less interest than the suggestion of scandalous impropriety, the town gossips enjoyed a feeding frenzy, tearing up in sympathy over the defendant's heartbreaking story, the most significant one which was never proven because neither the prosecution nor the defense made the effort. Not a single tear was shed for the young bride who lay mouldering in that grave in Llano Cemetery.
The Associated Press sent a reporter to cover the trial due to something referred to as "The Unwritten Law", in other words, it was a law that was not on the books. As nearly as this writer can figure, it must have been something akin to a betrayed spouse who has caught his/her spouse "in flagrante delicto" with a third party and killed one or both and then got away with it because he or she was the injured party. One can only feel amazement that two dead people suffered less of a loss than a betrayed spouse.
Witnesses were brought in, testified, and left. No one provided testimony of anything more than a suggestion of possible misbehavior occurring at any time between Bessie Arnold Sommers and the defendant's husband. The trial began and ended in less than a week. The defendant was found guilty and sentenced to five years. Suspended.
Justice does not appear to have been done. Bessie Arnold Sommers deserved better.
Her youngest brother, Clifford, had just turned 12 years old four days before his beloved mother died. It would fall to Bessie to provide him with most of the maternal nuturing he would receive thereafter.
Time passed and the younger children began to drift away from their father's home. Within five years of losing her mother, Bessie herself left in the hope of making some kind of life for herself before time took its toll and her options, which were already limited, disappeared all together. When only Clifford was left and he was age 17, the time came when she felt free to explore whatever possibilities were available.
Bessie relocated from east Texas to the town of Amarillo in Potter County, in what is known as the Texas Panhandle. With no training for special skills, she worked two jobs as a waitress in order to support herself. In 1924, she was writing letters regularly to her kid brother about the handsome young man named Lloyd Sommers she had met and who was paying court to her. Lloyd worked as night manager in a bakery near one of the cafes in which she worked. Those letters, which number eight or 10, are tied with the narrow, baby blue satin ribbon that Clifford lovingly used to bundle his treasured letters.
The letter postmarked August 04, 1924 is filled with joy as Bessie tells Clifford, that she and Lloyd had been married earlier that day. The short letter spoke of her hope for the happiness-filled future she would know as the wife of Lloyd Sommers. It is the last letter she wrote to Clifford.
Early in October, two months into her marriage, just as she was reporting for work for the breakfast trade, a woman walked in, aimed a gun at Bessie, and shot her four times. The happy young bride lay mortally wounded on the cold floor of that cafe. She died later in an Amarillo hospital, telling her husband that she had not been unfaithful to him.
The shooter, a 17-year-old woman whose husband of five years was the 31-year-old fry cook at the same eatery, had convinced herself that Bessie was carrying on with her husband. Both the husband and Lloyd Sommers denied such accusations, agreeing that it was a case of mistaken identity.
Bessie Arnold Sommers' life was cut short by a child bride with an overactive imagination and poor judgment.
On the day after the shooting, Bessie Arnold Sommers, happy new bride, at age 27, was laid to rest in Llano Cemetery, to spend eternity in the middle of acres and acres of people she never met.
In the first week of December a trial was held in a stifling Potter County courtroom packed to the rafters with curious onlookers. In an era where facts were of less interest than the suggestion of scandalous impropriety, the town gossips enjoyed a feeding frenzy, tearing up in sympathy over the defendant's heartbreaking story, the most significant one which was never proven because neither the prosecution nor the defense made the effort. Not a single tear was shed for the young bride who lay mouldering in that grave in Llano Cemetery.
The Associated Press sent a reporter to cover the trial due to something referred to as "The Unwritten Law", in other words, it was a law that was not on the books. As nearly as this writer can figure, it must have been something akin to a betrayed spouse who has caught his/her spouse "in flagrante delicto" with a third party and killed one or both and then got away with it because he or she was the injured party. One can only feel amazement that two dead people suffered less of a loss than a betrayed spouse.
Witnesses were brought in, testified, and left. No one provided testimony of anything more than a suggestion of possible misbehavior occurring at any time between Bessie Arnold Sommers and the defendant's husband. The trial began and ended in less than a week. The defendant was found guilty and sentenced to five years. Suspended.
Justice does not appear to have been done. Bessie Arnold Sommers deserved better.
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