Boy, for a guy that’s been dead since 1975, he sure gets around.
Everyone knows that Jimmy Hoffa assumed a secret identity as Ronnie Wood. He and JFK are being protected by Mick Jagger (who is really an alien) and will reappear as soon as Hillary and Pelosi are put on trial for violation of Article 8 of the US Constitution.
Finally, an explanation that doesn’t sound like a crazypants drunk uncle’s Hoffa tirade at Thanksgiving dinner. Thank you good Sir or Madam.
Alternative headline: Dying man pranks FBI
I don’t know how credible Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran’s version of the story is but I get why so many people find “you’ll never find physical evidence because we cremated the body like competent criminals would” an inherently unsatisfying resolution.
Thank Glod that our tax money is going to intensely study this decrepit matter which likely cannot affect anyone still living rather than pursue any on-going national corruption which affects us all right now [tromps off bitter ol’ self and slams door on bitter ol’ toe] harrumph (“yeah, where’s Geraldo Rivera to open up another of Capone’s treasure caves just when ya need him?”)
Yeah, just how many people were supposedly involved with the story this guy described? Guys in a limo openly talking to multiple people about how they were about to deliver the body? Switching the body between containers in front of witnesses out in the open? I suppose it’s possible because a lot of criminals are way less smart than we give them credit for, but it seems like way more people getting personally involved with the body disposal than what you would expect.
Guy was probably laughing to himself the whole time.
“I’m going to get these schmucks digging through decades of garbage. Classic!”
My thoughts exactly.
I met an old fella who worked at the long gone South Bay incinerator in Boston. He described how he accidentally saw the Boston mob guys disposing of bodies there (he was then told to stop reporting for work but to keep collecting his paycheck), so I suspect that the New York crime families would be at least as efficient, particularly with a high profile corpse like Hoffa.
So I grew up in Michigan, and every few years there would be some new story about Hoffa being buried somewhere. This would cause the FBI to come out, clean up a lot or demo an old swimming pool or til a plot of land or take down an old barn or any number of other things before they could look. Inevitably, they’d return the property very clean and neat to whomever owned it and would announce nothing was found. I jokingly called it the “Hoffa Renovations” and friends of mine called it that too. I’m sure others had similar names for it.
While The Irishman is a great movie, and I’m pretty convinced Frank Sheeran was full of shit, and none of what he said is believable, it’s much easier to imagine they just cremated him in a Detroit crematorium and dumped his ashes out over Lake Erie on a flight back than it is to believe he’s buried in some rather conspicuous location.
It’s stil going on, once every couple years. FBI shows up at a farm in Northfield, Salem, Plymouth of Northville Twp, and digs around to find exactly fuckall.
At this point, I’m inclined to believe a bunch of mobsters collectively agreed to send the FBI on snipe hunts as they each approached death-by-old-age.
Source unknown, but my family (not Family) has been telling it for generation, at least:
An old Italian gentleman lived alone in New Jersey. He wanted to plant his annual tomato garden, but it was very difficult work, as the ground was hard. His only son, Vincent, who used to help him, was in prison. The old man wrote a letter to his son and described his predicament.
“Dear Vincent, I am pretty sad because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my tomato garden this year. I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot. I know if you were here my troubles would be over. I know you would be happy to dig the plot for me, like in the old days. Love, Papa.”
A few days later, he received a letter from his son.
“Dear Papa, Don’t dig up that garden. That’s where the bodies are buried. Love, Vinnie”
At 4 am next morning, FBI agents and local police arrived and dug up the entire area without finding any bodies. They apologized to the old man and left. That same day, the old man received another letter from this son.
“Dear Papa, Go ahead and plant the tomatoes now. That’s the best I could do under the circumstances. Love you, Vinnie”
How many times have we been here before, with second- (or third-) hand deathbed confessions? I’m imagining the instances have really been piling up by this point…
I mean, they are. I think we even underestimate how dumb most criminals are because law enforcement are also really dumb, for the most part. Their competence gets even worse when they’re investigating a crime that they don’t actually care about solving because the victim isn’t someone they like, even when the case is high-profile (e.g. the murder of Malcolm X).
So while it does seem like an implausible number of people are involved in the story, that’s not, by itself, discrediting, especially if no one was much bothered about investigating it properly.
Whenever I have to get someone to bury a 55-gallon drum with a body in it, I’m always sure to tell them exactly who it is and make sure that they are as informed as possible because that is the job of a good manager.
Finding a specific corpse in a New Jersey dump sounds a lot like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles.
Would that be getting the last laugh?
Years back, someone I knew theorized he was buried under Route 41 in northwest Indiana. But that sounds more like a confabulated version of what happened to Tony Spilotro, who was found with his brother Michael in a shallow grave in that general area. Legends swirled around that one, too, including a Hollywood take in Casino. His actual end turned out to be more like Joe Pesci’s character in Goodfellas - he thought he was going to be made, and he and his brother were lured to a basement, beaten to death, and their corpses carted off.
Man, I can’t WAIT until we find this thing! I mean; it’ll be the biggest thing on the news for, oh, I don’t know, like…minutes?!
And then we can take the skeleton on a worldwide tour so EVERYONE gets to see it, because you know even Syrian refugees have been sweating this mystery for-freaking-ever!
We can declare a national holiday and let the .gov take a day off to marvel in the glory of the day Hoffa is found, because they’ve got nothin’ better to do.
I’m crossing my fingers! /s