Where Jimmy Hoffa really is
 

While reading a recent post about the Black Water Divers, there were a couple of funny quips about Jimmy Hoffa’s resting place. I was reminded that I recently finished a book where the topic was allegedly laid to rest. I Heard You Paint Houses by Charles Brandt is a story about Frank “the Irishman” Sheeran. Sheeran was a mid-level Philadelphia thug whose main line of work was contract killing. He had various cover jobs in union locals. Over the years he was mentored and protected by Russell Bufalino, the mob boss in Buffalo. He got an introduction to Hoffa through Bufalino and over 20 years became a trusted friend and frequent bodyguard. He was assigned the job to terminate Hoffa.

The chapter on the actual event came directly from Sheeran around 2002. He was in his 80s by then and bed ridden with little to lose. Some excerpts:

“There was no sign of a piece anywhere on Jimmy (Hoffa) as he got in (a car in the parking lot of the Macchus Red Fox Inn.) With me finally sitting there as backup like I was supposed to and with us now going to a meeting with Russell Bufalino it would have been the height of disrespect for Jimmy to go and get his piece out of his own car if he had one in it. Plus Jimmy was a convicted felon now and he didn’t need a gun on him if he didn’t need one.”

“When Jimmy saw that the (meeting) 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. 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 close or the paint splatters back at you—in the back of the head behind his right ear. My friend didn’t suffer.”

“Russell told me that after the two guys got done cleaning the house they put Jimmy in a body bag. Protected by the fence and the garage they took him out the back door and put him in the trunk of the Buick. Then they took Jimmy to be cremated. The writers that claim I shipped the package in a fifty-five-gallon drum to a dump site in New Jersey or to the end zone in Giants Stadium never had a body on their hands. Who in their right mind would transport such a high-profile package a block longer than was necessary, much less across the country?”

It’s a pretty good book especially for anyone who’s spent time in Philadelphia.

Thanks for posting that John

I could have sworn you were going to say his body was underneath the cart path.

I also heard, he was buried, in the old Giants stadium.

I heard he is under the "Sharon"