The Rest Of The Story . . . 

 During World War I, a youngster came forward in a church service. 

However, it was a religious group that were strong on rules, regulations, and legalistic sermons about a harsh God. They treated the young man with snobbery and brushoffs. 

 He proved to be a master mechanic with a brilliant mind. Turned off by his brutal religious experience, the boy rebelled. As a teenager, he was frequently in trouble with the law for fighting and petty theft.

 His criminal career began after his dishonorable discharge from the Navy in 1923 for desertion. He and a friend determined to rob a local grocery store netting only $50.

 Incarcerated in the Indiana State Prison from 1924 to 1933 submerse him in a criminal lifestyle that would leave its mark on the American consciousness. He was surrounded by seasoned bank robbers who took him under their wing, planning bank robbers they would later carry out after they escaped or were released form prison.

 Now he and his gang made a name for themselves. Their exploits were splash across front page of newspapers across America. By July, 1934, radio broadcasts constantly heralded the deeds of Public Enemy #1. Wanted posters offered $15,000 reward, equal to almost $200,000 today.

 He made three spectacular jail beaks, once from Crown Point, the Indiana maximum security prison. He fashioned a gun out of a wooded washboard, blackened with shoe polish.Grabbing two Tommy guns and the Sheriff's car, he fled across state line, triggering the involvement of the FBI.

 Robbing banks in a half-dozen states and killing 17 people, he was now as notorious as the likes of Face Nelson, Pretty Boy Floyd, Ma Baker and sons, and the notorious Bonnie and Clyde. Arrogantly, he would call the FBI pursuers and mock them on the phone.

Eventually, his Chicago landlady turned him in for the reward. Coming out of a movie theater, 17 FBI agents and 5 Chicago were waiting in ambush. He reached for his Colt 45 revolver and tried to escape down an alley way. 

A hail of bullets ended his life and notorious career. He died in a dirty Chicago alley with seven dollars and seven cents in his pocket. 

His name was John Dillinger. His father was the minister of that legalistic church, big on "hell-fire-and-damnation," and short on the grace of God. 

And that is the Rest of the Story . . .