9798. WHAT WAS THAT GARAGE FOR?

WHAT WAS THAT GARAGE FOR?

Way back when, about 1961, in Jersey

City, New Jersey, they caught some guy,

for good  -  big time embezzlement, with

money all over the place. 'Murph the Surf,'

or 'Happy Chandler,' something like that was

his name. Mob stuff, illicit deeds, bad money.

It was all stuffed into this garage they kept,

in the middle of a long row of car fix-it shops.

No one figured for a thing  -  they just kept a

wreck or two out front, and had hired two

lunkhead kids to be there with wrenches and

hammers and tires. Just to make it look legit.

What a racket. It was funny, because they made

no noise, but it was a racket, run by the mob,

running a racket -  taking bets and money, and

never paying off, fixing the take, screwing up the

results and squeezing everyone then to pay up.

Or, if not, take your debt to the grave with you.

Oh boy. There was some real excitement. I was

in Boy Scout Camp when I heard about it all.

Camp Cowaw (that means 'small pine' in some

local Indian tongue, they say). It came over the

radio one morning while we were having breakfast

in that crummy cabin they kept for eating. The

Scoutmaster guy, Mr. Hill, was drinking his coffee.

Then the news, everyone got interested, and every

high intention and high-sounding Boy Scout platitude

went right down the drain. Trustworthy. Helpful.

Loyal, and brave. Yeah, sure, right.