My Uncle John

MY UNCLE JOHN

My mom came from a large Irish Catholic Family. She had two brothers and five sisters. Her two brothers ran the family business, Flaherty’s Tavern in Jersey City. My grandfather, Barney, build the establishment on the corner of Bostwick and Ocean with money he saved from his bootlegging operations in Montreal. The bar was a classic mahogany with etched glass and brass. The ceiling was tin and the walls were covered with pictures of race horses, jockeys and boxers. The entrance and patio area was done in classic glass block and the floor tiles were the small green, black and white. There wasn’t a ladies room as women were not permitted in Taverns. They could have a drink on the patio if they liked but except for my mom and aunts I never saw any women there. The coolest thing in the bar was the old telephone booth. It had a two piece phone. The kind you have separate ear piece and mouth piece and the entire booth was made of wood. I can still remember the phone number DELeware 6524. There was a dartboard in the back room and a bumper pool table that was seldom used except to put betting slips into the holes at either end. Oh yea my Uncles were bookies did I fail to mention that?
Although New Jersey is a corrupt state, it pales in comparison to Jersey City which is the capital of corrupt. Everyone was on the payroll; the mayor’s office, chief of police, district attorney and most of the police. I worked at the Tavern the summer of 65 and every Saturday Night there was a poker game in the backroom. I waited on the same guys each week; the mayor, a judge, the chief of police, the district attorney a detective named Cunningham. They always tipped me a dollar a round and sometimes when I came in Sunday Morning to clean up they would still be playing. My uncle would lock them in the bar sometime after two in the morning.

My uncle would go in early on Mondays to clean the taps. He always entered the bar from the patio so he wasn’t so visible. On one of those Monday Mornings in 1965 two armed robbers lie waiting behind the garbage dumpster in the back of the patio and rushed the door as soon as my uncle open it. They pushed him through door at gun point and locked themselves inside. My uncle said the guy holding the gun on him was very nervous and was visibly shaking. My uncle tried to calm him down and asked him not to point the gun at him as my uncle wasn’t going to resist. John told them his insurance would cover his losses so there wasn’t any reason for anyone to do anything stupid. My uncle was worried I would show up for work and get involved so he wanted to get this over as soon as possible so that didn’t happen. The guys must have cased the place earlier as they knew right where the safe was and escorted my uncle to it. Actually everyone knew where the safe was as it couldn’t have been more visible. The four foot high pewter colored Fort Knox Safe was directly below the dartboard. My uncle got down on one knee and opened the door to the vault. The thieves hit the jackpot there were stacks of money. They tied my uncle to the safe, gagged him and left with their fortunes.

I arrived at the bar shortly after and let myself in through the patio door as usual. The bar was especially quiet. I thought my uncle was downstairs hooking up the taps. I went into the storage room to get the mop and I heard noise coming from the back room. I peeked around the bar to see what it was. I didn’t see John right away as the tables and chairs blocked my view but I did hear him. At first I thought he slipped and fell but then I saw the gag and ran towards him to untie him. “Uncle John, Uncle John are you ok” I shouted. “I’m fine just help me up”. John’s hands were tied behind his back and to the safe door. I untied him and helped him to his feet. He told me what had happened and phoned the police. While we waited for the police I questioned my Uncle on how much money they got away with and my Uncle laughed. “Uncle John how could you laugh about getting robbed?” My uncle then escorted me to the basement where the beer kegs and wine barrels were. In one corner there was two 40 gallon wine barrels on the floor with another one stacked on top between the other two. The ceiling was low in the basements so the wine barrel on top was a tight fit. My uncle made a fist and cracked open the top wine barrel. The lid folded in half as it was apparently hinged. Inside the wine barrel was all the money! My uncle then explained that the Fort Knox safe upstairs was a decoy and the money inside was counterfeit. The bills were all marked and traceable so who ever robbed them would probably be caught. I asked John how the money got into the wine barrel and he swore me to secrecy and then explained that the liquor cabinet that was always locked because it housed the expensive single malt scotch also had a hole in the corner that dropped directly into the wine barrel. I said. “Wow Uncle John you’re pretty smart.” John then explained that he couldn’t take credit for the ruse as it was my grandfather who had the bar set up like this from day one. I never had the pleasure of meeting my grandfather as he passed before I was born but I wish I had. I think he must have been a lot like my Uncle John!