North Haven's Big Heist

The following story is just that, it's a story, however it is a true story and the names of the guilty have been changed, but this is a story of youth gone mad, a belief in a rumor and a stupid stunt.

The year was 1979, summer I believe and I was currently alive in the world to deliver the newpaper to Thrify's and Inside/Outlet. There were no big box stores, no disgusting strip malls that would eventually define North Haven. There were businesses booming, stores taking in money, giving out a merchandise. And there was even a place to watch a movie while you ate bad bar food. And that place was Poor Richards Pub. Despite several name changes and mismanagement the Pub/theater soon closed it's doors and it was at this point that Anthony came into the picture with his "biggest heist" yet.  

Anthony was 15, two years older than I and as such, you had to follow the rules of being a kid which was, if an older boy tells you something and you go "Oh wow" then it's deemed to be true. And Anthony decided to take a break from stealing bushes and lighting small fires long enough to tell me this tale of "the biggest haul".

"My aunt has this friend who knows a gardener who used to work watering flowers near Pratt & Whitney. Well, she had a friend who had a son who was told by this guy named Geno that when Poor Richards closed, there was a small, broken safe jammed underneath a broken cigarette machine! He says there's $2000 in there," Anthony explained.

"We need someone with small hands who would do anything." He stated and it was at this point Billy  came into the picture. Billy was insane, even for 13. He once even chased his Russian grandmother with a bucket of urine. Not sure who's it was, but this was Billy. After a short while and the promise of a stolen cigarette from Anthony's mom, Billy was on board.

"What will I do" I asked, just wanting to be part of something, anything. Anthony looked at me, lit a cigarette, choked until blue, then blew the acrid smoke from his face and smiled.

"You're the lookout. You pretend that you're collecting the weekly money for the paper and you just stand there."   he said. I nodded and agreed.

"Well, I am going to collecting the weekly money."  I said. Anthony nodded.  So after twenty minutes of planning, we waited until 3:30 in the afternoon. Anthony explained that a friend told him that at 330, the the towns two police cars end their day and come back to headquarters. There will be only one cop car driving around and he usually heads to the high school at 3:45 pm to steal the day old dinner rolls the cafateria never uses. So it's clear sailing."  Anthony seemed pretty pleased with himself, though I'm pretty sure he never said "sailing"

The moment came, armed with nothing but our bikes we headed down Lincoln Street, but then decided to go down George Street, but then went all the way over to Thorpe and there we were. We crossed Washington Avenue and parked our bikes on the side of the abandoned Photo Mat hut. No one would see them there we thought.  Anthony pulled out his screwdriver and he and Billy headed off. As they stood in front of the delapidated pub, they turned to me,

"Steve, stand there with your stupid book of stamps out, like you're gonna collect money." But I was a little uneasy for the owner of Thriftys was puttin up a sign in his window, he waved. I gave  a small wave.  I was made.  My heart started to beat fast as I watched Anthony and Billy slide aside the broken sign and soon gained entry to the former pub. It was too easy I thought. Of course it was easy, older high school boys would go there to smoke cigarettes, but we thought we were first. The first ones to scale this first mountain of what we assumed would be a life of crime.

In the world of crime, the look-out is big. He's the one that's gonna be looking out for people or things that shouldn't be around. All I had to do was watch and then if I saw someone, I'd have to signal them with. . . . . . .

"Oh no!" I screamed to no one. I had no way to signal Anthony and Billy. And then all at once, I turned and saw him. It was Old Man Greco who lived down the street from me.

"Hey there Stevo...how's the day treating you?"   He asked.   but that was it for me. I ran like the wind, because we all used to run a little faster when we were young. But i ran to my Photo Mat hidden ten speed and flew right past a police car. His trunk loaded with rolls, he was responding it appears because of a broken light seemed to be on. . inside Poor Richard's Pub.

So here is my post script as it were. Both Anthony and Billy got picked up by the dinner roll cop, placed them right in the back.   As for me, I never found out if they really got arrested, but I did see the end result. Anthony was punished for a month and then after kicking out his bedroom window, another month. As for Billy, Billy didn't care. he was just out looking for his pee bucket.

So is there a moral to this story? Of course there is...and here it is:

North Haven! Don't allow all those vacant buildings to remain vacant for much longer, because somewhere in town, hiding by the railroad tracks behind Stop & Shop or laughing as they hid underneath the "tunnels" that ran under the interstate, be wary. . for these men, these boys. . . .they're planning the Big Heist!