Now in that Nashville trial on the Test Fleet case at the end of 1962, Jimmy’s taking a stand against Bobby, in what was shaping up like a major war ever since Bobby got in as attorney general.1
It became clear that Kennedy was intent on sending Hoffa to prison—the Justice Department literally had its own “Get Hoffa Department,” and Hoffa, of course, knew it. So there was motivation for Hoffa to get the Kennedys before he was nailed by them, and it was also apparent that the best way to “beat the heat” was by getting rid of JFK, which would ultimately diffuse Bobby. The matter was actually discussed in just such a way: If they got Bobby, JFK was still President and would retaliate fiercely; but if they got the President, Lyndon Johnson would become President. LBJ had his own ties to the mob, particularly with Carlos Marcello, and he hated Bobby almost as much as Hoffa did. So the best way to get Bobby was actually to take out JFK.
Deathbed testimony from hitman Frank Sheeran, a close friend (and killer) of Hoffa’s for many years, reveals that the mobsters followed through on that plan—Hoffa had implored mob bosses Carlos Marcello and Santo Trafficante to “get” JFK—and eventually they did precisely that. Sheeran delivered rifles to Dave Ferrie, pilot for mob boss Carlos Marcello, to be used in the assassination. Ferrie was also linked to Lee Harvey Oswald and was involved in setting up the assassination, and like Hoffa, Oswald, and Ruby, Ferrie was also murdered in the ensuing “clean-up” following the murder of President Kennedy. The Hoffa link to the JFK assassination was also substantiated by attorney Bill Bonanno, son of the legendary New York Godfather, Joe Bonanno.
Confirmation of that also came later when the boss of an East Coast crime family warned Hoffa to back off on making mob matters public (when Hoffa had been talking too much in his bid to get back the presidency of the Teamsters). Frank Sheeran was sitting right there during that conversation, with his boss, Russell Bufalino and Jimmy Hoffa. Bufalino was a quiet Godfather who more resembled the character of Don Corleone in the film, The Godfather, than any of his fellow bosses. He was boss of the Bufalino Crime Family, respected as one of the wisest (and fairest) mafiosos for over thirty years. His territory was technically northern Pennsylvania and upstate New York, but had stretched to New Jersey and Florida. And the respect he’d gained actually gave
1 Charles Brandt. I Heard You Paint Houses: Frank “The Irishman’ Sheeran and the Inside Story of the Mafia, the Teamsters and the Last Ride of Jimmy Hoffa, (Steerforth Press: 2005), 147.
him tremendous influence nationwide. Here’s how Sheeran remembered it and it wasn’t the kind of thing that was easy to forget:
Russell turned to Jimmy and was now facing Jimmy and me both.
“There are people higher up than me that feel you are demonstrating a failure to show appreciation,” and then he said so softly that I had to read his lips, “for Dallas.”
After the above comment, when Hoffa had left, Sheeran told Bufalino that Hoffa seemed so powerful that he was almost untouchable. But Bufalino knew better and coolly responded:
You’re dreaming, my friend. If they could take out the president, they could take out the president of the Teamsters.1
Eventually, the FBI pressure that was put on Hoffa in the following years came up with enough to get him sentenced to prison. Hoffa installed Frank Fitzimmons into the leadership role of the Teamsters while Hoffa was in “school” (Mafia slang for prison). Fitzimmons seemed loyal, reliable, and safe—though it turned out not to be the case.
Hoffa only served five years of a thirteen-year prison sentence because he was pardoned by President Nixon. The pardon was “married” to a string of huge cash payments to Nixon’s re-election committee—appropriately named CREEP, for Committee to Re-Elect the President (you couldn’t make this stuff up if you tried).
And, in exactly the same manner—a suitcase stuffed with cash handed over to the Attorney General of the United States (John Mitchell)—Hoffa also engineered a way around the clause in the pardon that restricted him from running for President of the Teamsters again. And, next thing you knew, Hoffa challenged Fitzimmons for the Presidency. With the rank and file union members right behind him, as usual, it looked like it was all his for the taking.
A war ensued for leadership of the Teamsters. Hoffa wanted the presidency back and made it clear he was going to do anything to get it, but the mob was comfortable with the easygoing Fitzimmons who could be easily controlled, as they feared the explosive Hoffa’s return to leadership.
Threats were made. Control was contested. Nobody looked safe. A “meet” was set up to make one last attempt at peace. Hoffa agreed to meet in a public place with the head of the enemy faction in the Teamsters, “Tony Pro” (Tony Provenzano). The meeting would be brokered by a friend of both, whom they could both, within limitations, have some trust: “Tony Jack” (Anthony Giacalone). The meet was for 2:30 p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon at the Red Fox restaurant just outside of Detroit; after the lunchtime crowd, but with still enough people to make it a safe, public meeting.
Officially, Jimmy Hoffa was last seen outside that restaurant shortly after the appointed time. He left an outdoor phone booth and then walked over to a car in the parking lot, got into it, and the car drove away. Officially, he was never seen again.
1 Charles Brandt. I Heard You Paint Houses: Frank “The Irishman’ Sheeran and the Inside Story of the Mafia, the Teamsters and the Last Ride of Jimmy Hoffa, (Steerforth Press: 2005).
Under these highly explosive circumstances, Hoffa would never have gotten into a car with his most bitter enemy. Therefore, it is quite logically presumed that he must have been lured into the car by the presence of associates whom he trusted in true Mafia tradition.
Unofficially, we do know what happened. He called his wife from the pay phone (Hoffa always used pay phones for sensitive calls) to see if his friend had called the house because his “insurance” was late. Frank Sheeran had agreed to drive to the restaurant and be there with Hoffa, a half hour prior to the set meet. If he had Sheeran and Giacalone there, Hoffa knew he’d be safe.
“Tony Pro” had no intention of showing up for the meeting. He was back in Detroit in a public place, making sure he had a highly visible alibi. The same was true for “Tony Jack.” It had already been decided by “higher forces” in the mob that it was time to take care of the Hoffa problem.
I was supposed to be sitting there in the restaurant when the two Tonys showed up for their 2:30 appointment with Jimmy. Only Tony Jack was getting a massage at his health club in Detroit. Tony Pro, meantime, wasn’t even in Michigan. He was in New Jersey at his union hall playing Greek rummy, with the FBI no doubt sitting across the street from the union hall keeping an eye on him.1
The hit on Hoffa was “sanctioned” by Detroit and Chicago. The man, who made the hit, Frank Sheeran, explains:
New York had turned it down. They didn’t sanction it, but they didn’t oppose it either. “If you did it you were on your own”-type of thing. It couldn’t have been done without Detroit’s sanction, because it was their territory. Same for Chicago, because they were close by and there was a lot of tie-in between Chicago and Detroit.2
Frank Sheeran, who was even Hoffa’s own shooter on many occasions throughout the years, was his close and trusted friend. But Sheeran was really given no choice. He knew that being told to make the hit on Hoffa meant that he was actually being spared his life, due to his close connection with Russell “The Old Man” Bufalino. Putting out a contract on Hoffa meant that the Mob—at the top level of leadership—had decided to go with the “Tony Pro” faction on the battle for control of the union. So they were “cleaning house” and, typically, since Sheeran was a “Hoffa man,” that meant he’d get his house painted too. Offering him the hit was sparing his life. So, in Sheeran’s defense, if he’d declined or even tried tipping off his friend to run for it, then he was a dead man too.
Frank Sheeran was one of the top hitmen in history: He shot Crazy Joey Gallo, head of the Gambino Crime Family in New York C
ity (in a restaurant in Little Italy in 1972), “Sally Bugs” Briguglio (on a New York street in broad daylight), and a number of other high-profile hits for the mob.
1 Ibid.
2 Ibid, 259.
“Deathbed confessions” carry a lot of weight in a court of law because the confessor can finally free their conscience without fear of reprisals. When Sheeran was nearing the end, he “came clean” to attorney Charles Brandt, who recorded every word of it. Sheeran got his orders for the hit directly from Russell “The Old Man” Bufalino, and he explained, very specifically, how the hit was made. After describing exactly how and where he drove there, street-by-street, with precise detail and descriptions, Sheeran also conveyed the broader context:
The whole thing was built around the wedding. Bill Bufalino’s daughter was getting married on Friday, August 1, 1975. That was two days after Jimmy disappeared. People would be coming in from all the (mafia) families around the country. There would be over 500 people there. . . . Because of the wedding, Jimmy would be inclined to believe that Tony Pro and Russell Bufalino would be in the Detroit area so they could meet with him in the afternoon he disappeared. The thing with Tony Pro wanting his million-dollar pension was a decoy. They just used the pension beef to get Jimmy to come out.1
The car that pulled up was another part of the plan. It was driven by Chuckie O’Brien, Hoffa’s foster son who still called Hoffa “Dad”; and it was a car familiar to Hoffa too—the maroon Mercury of Tony Jack’s son. Tony Jack was pals with Hoffa and he knew the car well; it was just the type of car that would be used for such a meeting, because it wasn’t flashy and just blended in.
Jimmy Hoffa’s foster son, Chuckie O’Brien, and I were going to be part of the bait to lure Jimmy into a car with Sally Bugs, Tony Pro’s right-hand man. . . . Without being told, I knew that there was no reason for Sally Bugs to get in Chuckie’s car other than to keep an eye on me. To make sure I didn’t spook Jimmy not to get in the car. Jimmy was supposed to feel safe with me in Chuckie’s car so he’d go to this house with brown shingles and walk right in the front door with me as his backup.2
So there were two people Hoffa trusted inside that car: Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran and Hoffa’s stepson, Chuckie. He never would have gotten into the car if they weren’t there. Sheeran explains:
Everybody being at ease was an important feature, because Jimmy was as smart as they come at smelling danger from all his years in bloody union wars and knowing the people he was dealing with. He was supposed to meet Tony Jack and Tony Pro in a public restaurant with a public parking lot. Not many people change a public meeting place to a private house on Jimmy Hoffa—even with me in the car. Even with his “son” Chuckie driving.3
1 Brandt. I Heard You Paint Houses
2 Ibid.
3 Ibid.
The setup for the hit had to be picture-perfect because Hoffa was a very cautious man under any circumstances, and particularly so for this meeting. Sheeran continues:
The psychology of the matter was played to perfection. They knew how to get under the man’s skin. Jimmy Hoffa had been forced to wait for me for a full half-hour, from 2:00 to 2:30, only because he was stuck waiting for the 2:30 meeting. And then he waited his standard fifteen minutes for the two Tonys besides. Waiting forty-five minutes made Jimmy nuts like it was supposed to and then to compensate for all the bull he put out, he got cooperative like he was supposed to.1
Sheeran told Hoffa that McGee—their code name for Russell Bufalino, also known as “The Old Man”—had changed the setup. Hoffa was told that Bufalino had decided to broker the meeting—and hopefully to settle the score—and that McGee was waiting at a nearby home, along with “Tony Pro.” They knew that Hoffa would buy that story because Bufalino was known nationwide as a formidable peace broker for finding solutions to problems when possible, rather than simply opting for bloodshed.
Sally Bugs said “His friend wanted to be at the thing. They’re at the house waitin. “2
They knew that Hoffa seeing Sheeran sitting in the front passenger seat would help the set-up to pass.
Seeing me there, Jimmy instantly would believe Russell Bufalino was already in Detroit sitting around a kitchen table at a house waiting. My friend Russell wanting to be there would explain the sudden last-minute change in plans in Jimmy’s mind. Russell Bufalino was not the man to conduct a sit-down in a public place he didn’t know like the Red Fox. Russell
1 Ibid.
2 Ibid.
Hoffa trusted Frank “The Irishman” Sheeran, a longtime friend and professional hitman. Because of this, Sheeran was forced into the murder plot.
Bufalino was old school. He was a very private person. He’d only meet you in public in places he knew and trusted.1
Out of respect for “The Old Man,” Hoffa basically had to go along with the new setup.
Russell Bufalino was the final bait to lure Jimmy into the car. If there was going to be any violence, anything unnatural, Russell would not be there.2
With that story, combined with the presence of his stepson behind the wheel of the car, and his old friend, Frank “The Irishman” in the passenger seat, Hoffa got into the car.
They drove a couple minutes to a nearby house they had gotten as a “loaner” (a previously set up arrangement where a person who was “in” with the Mob lent them short term use of the house). Sheeran’s car, a Ford, was in the driveway and was also a “loaner” (stolen off a long-term parking lot so that it wasn’t traceable back to him). Another car was also in the driveway, a brown Buick. It actually belonged to the “cleaners” (the guys who get rid of the dead body and the shooter’s gun) who were waiting inside the back of the house. But as far as appearances, it looked just like the type of nondescript car that Bufalino would arrive in (the intelligence community reference to “cleaners” is as assassins, but the Mob refers to them as the people who deal with the dead body). Everything looked “legit” to Hoffa. The logical assumption was that The Old Man was waiting inside to try to broker a deal with Hoffa and Tony Pro.
The house and the neighborhood were not threatening in the least. It was a place you’d want your kids to grow up in. The garage in the rear was detached, which was a nice touch. Nobody was asking Jimmy to go in that house in secret through an attached garage. Jimmy and I were walking right in the front door in broad daylight with two cars parked right there in the driveway.3
Hoffa’s stepson parked the car in the driveway. Hoffa got out of the back and Sheeran got out of the passenger seat. Hoffa walked into the house for the “meeting” thinking that Sheeran, the man walking in right behind him, was his protection. The moment Hoffa entered, he knew “what it was.”
When Jimmy saw that the house was empty, that nobody came out of any of the rooms to greet him, he knew right away what it was. If Jimmy had taken his piece with him, he would have gone for it. Jimmy was a fighter. He turned fast, still thinking we were together on the thing, that I was his backup. Jimmy bumped into me hard. If he saw the piece in my hand he had to think I had it out to protect him.4
Then his friend did the dirty deed he’d been forced into doing.
He took a quick step to go around me and get to the door. He reached for the knob and Jimmy Hoffa got shot twice at a decent range—not too
1 Brandt. I Heard You Paint Houses
2 Ibid.
3 Ibid.
4 Ibid.
close or the paint splatters back at you—in the back of the head behind his right ear. My friend didn’t suffer.1
The “cleaners” had put linoleum tiles down in the vestibule of the house to make it easier to get rid of the blood. The Andretta brothers were Tony Pro’s people.
They were there as cleaners to pick up the linoleum they had put down in the vestibule and to do any clean-up that might be necessary and to remove any jewelry and take Jimmy’s body in a bag to be cremated.2
Sheeran also knew that the FBI’s initial claim on DNA was wrong. The FBI claimed that hair found in the t
runk of that car had been analyzed for DNA and was a match to Jimmy Hoffa. Sheeran knew better, and he knew it as a fact:
Jimmy was never in the trunk, dead or alive.3
Later testing revealed that a hair recovered from the rear passenger’s side seat (where Sheeran placed Hoffa) was being DNA-tested. The FBI revealed on September 7, 2001, that the hair was matched to Jimmy Hoffa.
Further confirmation of Sheeran’s confession came from comparing the forensic evidence and Sheeran’s specific descriptions. Dr. Michael Baden is a nationally respected forensic expert who was formerly Chief Medical Examiner of New York City. Dr. Baden examined the evidence and concluded that:
Sheeran’s confession that he killed Hoffa in the manner described in the book is supported by the forensic evidence, is entirely credible, and solves the Hoffa mystery.4
Conclusions Based On Evidentiary Indications
• Jimmy Hoffa was definitely murdered, even though the body was never found.
• Case has all the signs of a classic Mafia hit.
• Hoffa did have sensitive knowledge that was highly pertinent to the JFK assassination, and he was at a point in his life when he was talking too much and too publicly.
• However, the hit appears to be unrelated to the JFK cover-up. It was the result of Hoffa’s maniacal quest to regain his Presidency of the Teamsters Union, at any cost.
• The murder was the result of an internal decision by mafia leaders. The
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