Alcatraz escapees' tale still captivates, 50 years later SAN FRANCISCO - There was the leather pouch, crafted in prison, that according to family lore may have contained a message about the escapees' hide-out. There were the flowers, which arrived reliably on special occasions at their childhood home - with no card attached. And when Clarence and John Anglin's mother died in 1978, two men masquerading as women were said to have attended her Florida funeral, despite a swarm of FBI agents nearby. Fifty years after the Anglins joined Frank Lee Morris and slipped away from Alcatraz - the wind-battered federal penitentiary in San Francisco Bay - on a raft made of raincoats, tantalizing new morsels trickled out Monday to deepen the enduring mystery of their escape. Many historians and law enforcement officials assume the men drowned in the bay's frigid waters. But since no bodies were found, the U.S. Marshals Service still searches for the fugitives, who today would be 81, 82 and 85. The 1962 escape has become one of the best known unsolved crimes in American history. And in a decrepit upper hall of the island prison-turned-tourist attraction, an unlikely mix of characters gathered Monday to share what they know - and speculate about what they don't. Among them was supervising U.S. Deputy Marshal Michael Dyke, who has worked the case since 2003 and still gets a tip every couple of months. A towering man with the deadpan expression of a seasoned investigator, Dyke said it was entirely possible that one or more of the escapees survived. He has vowed to keep looking until the men "are apprehended, proven to be dead or self-surrender." If none of those scenarios plays out by the time of each escapee's 99th birthday, the outstanding warrants will be retired. The FBI worked the case until 1978, when the Marshals Service took over. These days, Dyke said, he pursues it more "as a hobby" than a full-time endeavor. His supervisory role gives him plenty of other things to do. Still, his goal is arrest - although he admitted he would season their apprehension with a touch of flattery. "I would just say, 'Excellent job,'" Dyke said during a panel discussion held to discuss the caper memorialized by Clint Eastwood in "Escape from Alcatraz." It was very meticulous what they did. Joining Dyke were two of the Anglins' sisters and two nephews, who traveled all the way from Florida and Georgia in an attempt to humanize the brothers they called "good ol' boys" who "never hurt anybody." Now 76 and 74, the sisters on Monday donned matching black turtlenecks under white blouses that were decorated to commemorate the escape - and the artistry of the fake heads the men used as decoys to fool guards doing bed-checks. They brought with them the letters Clarence and John had sent from behind bars, as well as photos of the intricate paintings the brothers crafted of their girlfriends while serving their time on "The Rock." "We've always rooted for 'em," Marie Anglin Widner said, in courteous defiance of Dyke. Added her son, David Widner: "We don't condone anything that they did, but they were still human.... They wanted a different life than what they had, and that got 'em in a lot of trouble. The Anglin brothers met Morris during a previous prison stay. He was an orphan who started stealing at age 6 and, as an adult, "played his cards close to the vest," said Jolene Babyak, who was 15 and the daughter of Alcatraz's acting warden at the time the trio fled the island. According to Babyak, who has written a book about the escape, Morris' file said: "capable of long-term planning."