May I See Your I.D?
When I was 18 ('64), I discovered a larcenous side of my persona. I've been involved in some activities that were questionable, maybe even illegal. Okay. not maybe.
My first exposure was to the "fake ID" business in the Spring semester of '66. My apartment mate at the Kraettli Apartments (new University owned housing at the University of Oklahoma) was a guy named Rizzo. Now, Rizzo was from a rich family that lived in south Chicago. He described his father as a "clean gangster" who owned a chain of pharmacies and several medical equipment companies. Rizzo himself was a gambler, frequently playing gin for 10 cents a point in the big games in the Student Union. He would bet on anything. He was a risk taker.
One early Friday afternoon, after my last class of the week, I came home to find Rizzo packing. He told me he was going home for a couple of days and that he had an extremely good financial opportunity he could not pass. Further, he told me that if I could come up with $200, I could share in the profits. Finding out exactly what the business was did not occur to me 'til later. I packed a few things and we drove straight through, sharing the driving responsibilities.
By the time we arrived, he had related the situation. We were buying a small printing press, some press type and plates, some blank forms and laminating materials. We would be equipped to produce an Ohio driver's license, both Selective Service cards, and an Ohio Voter's Registration card. The Ohio license was a non-photo ID in those days, so no pictures would be required to make a set. The blank forms were the actual forms used by the agencies that issued them. All for just $500 in cash. I believe the forms and plates were "hot".
Rizzo had not lied. His family lived in a mansion, not a house...and it was guarded night and day. We spent the day there before heading back. Everyone was very cordial. One of the guards wished Rizzo luck and gave him a wink as we were leaving. He may have been the "connection" on the deal. I'll never know.
Sets of IDs went for $100. Word of mouth advertising on OU's Fraternity Row was all it took to get started. It was hard to keep up with demand. We were making money hand over fist.
One evening, I drove into my parking space and notice our front door was open. I looked around and Rizzo's '63 Corvette was not to be seen. I was very apprehensive as I approached the door. I cautiously looked in and saw a man in a suit walk into the bathroom. From the back bedroom where our equipment was set up I heard a voice. "You know, Joe, this stuff looks like the real thing. I'll bet they're making a lot of money." I was dumbfounded. These were cops! Probably Federal cops! I knew there was no point in trying to run, so I went in and stood by the dining table until "Joe" came out of the bathroom. He looked at me and said, "Well, you're not Rizzo. You must be Candler." I nodded and started spilling my guts. He got excited and was following my conversation with great interest, actually taking some notes. I showed him our books and our lists of purchasers. I remember him saying, "Jesus Christ, Jack. You oughta see this." He turned to me and said, "C'mon. We're going downtown." Just then, Rizzo walked into the situation. Joe looked at him and said, "You must be Rizzo." Rizzo went straight to the phone and made a call. Jack came out and asked, "Why did you let him make a call? He'll get a chance to do that later." They took us to the Federal Building in downtown OKC. Rizzo and I waited in a meeting room for almost an hour. They brought us cups of coffee and allowed us to smoke. Suddenly and without announcement, in walked Federal District Attorney Curtis P. Harris, commonly known as the "gang buster". He looked at me and said, "Well, you're not Rizzo. You must be Candler.." He looked at me hard and asked, "Mr. Candler have you ever heard of Miranda?" "Why, yes sir. It has to do with a criminal's rights." He nodded and said, "I thought so." I wondered what that meant. Strangely enough, that was ALL I knew about Miranda, no detail.
Meantime, Rizzo was sweating like a pig. He was very afraid of what was happening. The call he had made was to a local attorney, one recommend by his father if one was ever needed. Just then, the attorney walked in. D.A. Harris looked at him and said, "Sir, Mr. Candler has already saved your client from serving time. He provided a large amount of necessary evidence without being informed of his rights. The University will be notified of their activities; and I suspect both young men will be eliminated from the student rolls in short order. We will be confiscating the equipment and remaining blank forms. We will also be contacting some of the students who purchased the ID sets and confiscating those." There was a long pause. The silence was deafening. Then the D.A. said, "Take'em home, Joe." and walked out. This was my life's greatest moment of relief.
Strangely enough, neither of us was ever contacted by any representative of the university, neither of us was thrown out of school. Another government SNAFU, I guess. We did get some phone calls from students whose I.D. set had been confiscated. Of course, they wanted their money back. Since Rizzo and I did not have bank accounts, we got to keep all the money too. So, in retrospect, we got away with it; but only because I blabbed so quickly.
What a lucky break! Probably the biggest of my life. Really!? Maybe not. Just a few weeks later I received an Induction Notice from Uncle Sam. My grades were not good enough to sustain my student deferment. Maybe there was some justice after all.
It's been a swell ride....even the bumps.
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