One of the many unfortunate byproducts of the gangster era was everyday people getting caught in the crosshairs of violent criminal behavior. When that happened, unsuspecting bystanders had their lives changed forever, or worse, saw their end in a flurry of bullets. A person rarely had a second chance to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

On Friday, December 16, 1932, twenty-nine-year-old Saint Paul resident Oscar Erickson's luck was finally making a turn for the better. After being unemployed for many months due to a bout with appendicitis, the former cook was finally returning to work. He'd taken a job selling door-to-door Christmas wreaths for a city florist and optimistically believed it was a small step in the right direction for him and his 20-year-old wife, Delvina.

Loading wreaths into the trunk of his car, Erickson and his boss Arthur Zachman set out to knock on doors in the Como neighborhood and sell the Christmas spirit to homeowners. Unfortunately, after talking to the first couple of residents, the two men realized that a different salesperson had already canvassed the area. Erickson and his boss packed themselves into the car and went to a nearby area adjoining the Minnesota State Fairgrounds.

A short distance away, members of the Barker-Karpis Gang were in a high-speed get-a-way after recently robbing the Third Northwestern National Bank on Hennepin Avenue in Minneapolis. They'd planned to switch cars at a location in Como Park. The tire on the getaway car, flattened in the gunfire after the heist, came off entirely at Snelling Avenue and Larpenteur — a short distance from their destination. The stolen Lincoln limped into the park on its rim.

The gang parked next to their stashed second car and quickly moved their stolen bounty from one auto to another.

Erickson and his boss, unaware of the robbery, drove by the location near Monkey Island around the time the gang was removing $22,000 in cash and $100,000 in securities — as well as the license plates from the getaway car. He slowed down as he passed the well-dressed men, either caught up in a moment of curiosity about the strange men's intentions or honestly wondering if the group needed help.

Gang member Fred Barker, thinking that the slow-moving car was trying to get their license plate numbers, shouted, "Get going, or else!" at the vehicle. The newly minted wreath salesman didn't move fast enough. Barker reached for his pistol and started shooting at the passing car.

One of the bullets struck Erickson in the head, and he immediately slumped into the driver's seat. Zachman pulled him over to the passenger's side of the car and drove the bleeding and unconscious shooting victim to the local police station. Erickson was then rushed by a police ambulance to the hospital. He remained in a coma as doctors tried to save his life. Unfortunately, he succumbed to his wound, dying from a cerebral hemorrhage before the following dawn.

His grief-stricken young wife of two years told reporters she had learned that her husband was dying while talking with a friend about his Christmas gift. Mrs. Erickson spoke about the financial struggles the couple had faced in their brief marriage, including the doctor bills from Erickson's recent bout with appendicitis. She talked about her husband's happiness at getting a new job and his belief that their bad luck would change.

Barker, who would lose his life in a shootout with FBI agents in Florida a little more than three years later, never had to answer for the murder. He didn't kill a competing gangster or a lawman trying to stop him. Barker cruelly murdered a man whose only crime was driving his car by the scene at the wrong time.

Police Chief John O'Connor had instituted the Layover Agreement in St. Paul years before to ensure that serious crimes like the shooting death of Oscar Erickson never happened within the city limits. A growing roster of corrupt officials and increasingly brazen criminals began to defy the unofficial rules with increasing abandon.

Citizens who had once confidently walked alongside the public enemies on the streets of the city began to fear for their safety. Something had to change.

Erickson's murder led to one of the area's earliest public calls for reform, and although it took a few more years to bear fruit, it signaled the beginning of the end for the era of the gangsters.

After her husband's death, Mrs. Erickson moved to Minneapolis to live with her sister.