Wednesday, July 12, 2017

COOKING GOOSE

Hidden FBI cameras rolled as John Cheasty gave Jimmy Hoffa a memo about Dave Beck. "It's enough to cook Beck's goose," Cheasty piped.

Not knowing that the goose to be cooked would be his, Jimmy slipped Cheasty $2,000 cash.

As Jimmy crossed the Dupont Plaza Hotel lobby, five guys, wearing gray suits and wide-brimmed hats, approached him.

"FBI," said one. "You're under arrest."

Jimmy's face tightened. "For what?"

A few men fanned out behind Jimmy. "Just come with us."

"Like hell I will." Jimmy punched the elevator button.

When the five men ringed Jimmy, he threw both hands up. "Goddammit, you want trouble, you can have it. Most of these folks in the lobby are my guys. So go ahead, make a fuckin' fuss, and we'll have one hell of a fight."

Thursday, July 6, 2017

OFF THE DOME


When Jimmy's bribery trial opened June 24 in Washington, DC, Bobby Kennedy felt sure he had bested Jimmy. In fact, Bobby felt so sure he bragged to reporters, "If Hoffa is acquitted, I'll jump off the Capitol dome." 

The trial opened with eight African Americans sitting in the jury box, to no one's surprise. They made up more than half of Washington's population.

Then, on July 15, just before the final session, who should make a surprise appearance in the courtroom but the great former heavyweight Joe Louis.

Jimmy jumped up and greeted the boxing champion as one old friend greets another. "I've come to wish Hoffa well. He's an old friend of mine," Joe lied. The Teamsters had paid him well.

After the "not guilty" verdict came in, the courtroom became a carnival. Someone brought in a cake in the shape of the United States Capitol. The Capitol was topped by a figurine Bobby Kennedy jumping from the dome with a parachute.

"Cake, Bobby?" Jimmy hollered. 

But Bobby, pushing his way out the door, didn't respond.




OFF THE DOME


When Jimmy's bribery trial opened June 24 in Washington, DC, Bobby Kennedy felt sure he had bested Jimmy. In fact, Bobby felt so sure he bragged to reporters, "If Hoffa is acquitted, I'll jump off the Capitol dome." 

The trial opened with eight African Americans sitting in the jury box, to no one's surprise. They made up more than half of Washington's population.

Then, on July 15, just before the final session, who should make a surprise appearance in the courtroom but the great former heavyweight Joe Louis.

Jimmy jumped up and greeted the boxing champion as one old friend greets another. "I've come to wish Hoffa well. He's an old friend of mine," Joe lied. The Teamsters had paid him well.

After the "not guilty" verdict came in, the courtroom became a carnival. Someone brought in a cake in the shape of the United States Capitol. The Capitol was topped by a figurine Bobby Kennedy jumping from the dome with a parachute.

"Cake, Bobby?" Jimmy hollered. 

But Bobby, pushing his way out the door, didn't respond.






Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Out of Step

On June 10, 1952, the US Army Corps of Engineers dedicated its $45-million Harlan County, Nebraska, dam and reservoir. 

The all-day celebration drew ten thousand people from the Republican River valley. 

A huge parade in Alma, Nebraska, my home town, kicked off the celebration. A color guard led eleven bands, twenty-eight floats, a drum and bugle corps, ten saddle clubs, a fire department truck, and a line of massive construction trucks used to build the dam. 

My sister, Margaret, led the Alma High School band. I marched with it and carried a heavy glockenspiel, its bulky keyboard shaped like a lyre. When I hit its steel keys with a mallet, a bright bell-like tone sliced through the air. 

As we neared the end of the hour-long march, I spotted Dad standing in the crowd. Afterward, I scampered to him. "How'd I do?"

"Oh, you were terrific!" A smile played across his face. "Everyone was out of step but you."




Tuesday, June 13, 2017

YOUR PAIN

A favorite poem by my most-frequently-read poet:



ON NOT QUITE FEELING YOUR PAIN

How come your "horrendous"
never feels quite as God-awful
as the simply wretched thing
that happened to happen to me


Does that ring a bell? Let me know.




Thursday, June 8, 2017

IS EVERYBODY OK?


The gooseneck lamp made a pool of light on my desk about 3 a.m., June 5, 1968, when someone pounded on my apartment door.

Tall skinny Bev, my upstairs neighbor, cried, "You've got to come up! They've shot Bobby Kennedy!" 

On Bev's TV, I saw the classic image of that night: Robert Kennedy, dressed in his black campaigning suit, sprawled flat on the kitchen floor, his limbs jutting out as though they didn't belong to him.

"Oh my God!" Bev shook her fist at the TV. "I can't believe this!  Martin Luther King only two months dead, and everywhere, rioting, thousands arrested, and who know how many shot! And now this." 


Bobby, still alive, asked, "Is everybody okay?" Bev reached for a tissue. 






Thursday, June 1, 2017

HUNKER DOWN


Jimmy flew into Nebraska from New York when his Teamster contract with Dad's truckline lapsed on June 1, 1950.

And wouldn't you know it,  Jimmy wanted Dad to sign that same old Central States contract, the one with that terrible featherbedding clause they'd fought about in 1947 until "The Little Guy" dropped that clause.

Dad protested.

"Sign or strike," Jimmy said.

Dad, still unhappy with his 1947 contract that transformed his twenty-five drivers into Teamsters, decided to resist. 

He collected from his drivers all those union cards that Hoffa's contract had forced Dad to distribute. He returned them to the Teamsters.

Then my father hunkered down for a fight.