Like Vinnie ‘the chin”Gigante, Vic ‘six bucks’ spent allot time in a bathrobe. Vic fashioned himself as the ‘singing Don’ he a member of the Barbershop Quartet. Above we see ‘the crooner’ breaking out in song in the morn after a all-niter. When it came time to close the Kerry House, where I met Patrice Hanson, Vic & Son got to stay till sunup. I drank with my father, and called him Bill while in a nudie bar out on the highway. We were on our way to grandma’s for X-Mas. William was pop’s middle name.
When any of Vic’schildren would stop by, he would ceremoniously hand us a real estate paper and a stack of post cards. We must work before we play. We went to work on looking for folks who had defaulted on their home loan. We would write their address on the post card that introduced these desperate people to Captain Vic, Loan Hero. We did not speak while we worked, lest we make a mistake, or waste precious seconds. Vic expected allot bang for his bucks, he never able to get over his capitalist vision he had when he put his sons to work at Acme Produce. Free Labor was the way. Vic told me he wished he was born during the height of the Roman Empire. When I recognized I had a Christ complex, I began to wonder.
I can’t speak for my other siblings, but, I never got paid. What I got was a perk instead. I might get a bowl of squid soup, or, a big salami sandwich. Vic took me to lunch at the real estate guy bars. I might get an item of clothing, or, a new-scent for my car. When I saw the new house in Lafayette, Vic demonstrated his up-graded perk system. Near the end of the work day, Vic broke the silence;
“Who wants to go shopping?”
Spoke Vic’s three little help-meets, and out the door they run with the credit cards Vic tossed atthem – like candy! Two hours later they came home like hunters from the hunt, and began to hold up their new dresses for the Master Boss Man to see;
“Oh, that’s pa retty one. Turn around and let me see it from the back!” said their captain who wore a black eye patch a year earlier after crazy Dee-Dee knocked his out out with a four pound ashtray.
“Duck Captain Victim – INCOMING!”
Above it the new edition to the Lafayette home that Vic built for Connie and her eight children. Vic was trying to get his new bride into the United States, and her children. Connie and her children were citizens of Mexico. Having married Connie when she was smuggled across the border in a marijuana shipment, it looked like getting Vic’s new family into the new digs, was not going to pan out. I took a photo of Connie’s Folly because Vic’s real children never got such a huge perk, and that was because we were never really loyal to our captain. No one lived in that house. According to Roseamry, Vic would steal our dental appointments she paid for after she was forced to go get a real job, get off the bad movie lot where we were slaves to the Star.
We clever Presco children faked our loyalty so we could cash&prizes out of the good captain. We were not the salt of the earth, as basic and asloiving as Mexican people, who love each other naturally. It’s inbred in them.
When I was eleven I bought my father a new fishing knife. Being quite the worker, I got jobs watering lawns, running errands for the elderly, and weeding. It was Vic’s birthday, August 12. I asked my father to come out on the front porch with me. I handed him the knife. There was silence as he looked at it. The he spoke;
“You didn’t buy this knife for me. You bought it for yourself. Here. You keep it!”
I fought back the tears as he turned and went back in the house. I struggled to understand what had happened. My father had accused me of having a hidden agenda, and I wondered if this was true. Then it came to me, a voice form heaven.
“There is nothing dark about trying to purchase your freedom! Your father wants you to be ownen to him till the day he die!”
I now knew my father was psychotic, severely mentally ill. Not one dare say this about him, or title him a parasite, even when he got convicted of Loan Sharming in in 1994. In 1991 I got a glimpse of the Mortgage Meltdown, the coming Doom! I was seen as the boy who cried wolf. I posted the fallowing six years ago.
“The child plays”
After Ms. Pierrot bought the Rosamond estate on February 15,1996, she
put out a website for Rosamond Publishing, in which the ghost writer
she hired, claimed Christine did not “hasten her death as many around
her feared she would.” Back to this paper I found yesterday, as if
the ghost of James Coakly had led me to it. On September 19, 1996
Attorney Lawrence J. Chazen via his attorney filed a claim against my
late sister’s estate for $59,100 dollars. He did this 2 1/2 years
after Christine’s death, and seven months after Ms.Pierrot bought the
estate of $75,000 dollars. Why didn’t Mr.Chazen file sooner, after
all, he had tried to become the special executor, after Garth’s
attorney got another attorney dismissed by Judge Silver. To quote
from testimony of proceedings of June 3,1994; “Ms. Beare again
expressed her opinion to me that Ms. Winterhalter was not qualified
or bondable and that San Francisco Attorney Lawrence J. Chazen should
serve. Mr.Chazen had appeared before Judge Silver with Ms.Beare at
the June 3 1994 hearing and attempted to be appointed. Over the
specific argument of Ms. Beare, Judge Silver refused to appoint Mr.
Chazen. Neither Ms. Beare nor Mr.Chazen disclosed to the court the
very critical fact that Mr.Chazen has the largest single creditor’s
claim against the estate and is a former business partner and
business associate of Garth Benton who the court had removed as
Special Administrator just moments before.” By, Larry was hasty then!
I asked my father, when he was alive, where he met Lawrence Chazen.
He said he met him at the Copper Penny in Walnut Creek that was a
hang-out for real-estate Brokers. In California, if you had a real-
estate Liscence, you could make mortgage loans. In May of 94, Vic was
convicted of loan sharking, he and another real-estate guy taking a
woman’s home from her. My cousin
Bill Broderick helped Vic with this case, he a Attorney.My mother had
been an executive secretary for Caldwell Bankers, and knowing she was
brilliant, and loved a intriguing tale, I lay this one on her. “Do
you recall the Movie ‘Paint Your Wagon’ where Clint Eastwood is
underneath the saloons and gambling houses scooping up the gold dust
that has fallen between the cracks during a Gold Boom. Suppose you
found a way of doing this in the California Real-estate Boom, that
is, as the price of real-estate went through the roof, and thus the
number of defaults, if you could manipulate these defaults, then you
would be a rich man. Mother, I think Vic invented the Savings and
Loan Rip-off scam – by default!” I went on to explain my theory. “If
a lender approached free-lance real-estate guys that were popping up
all over the Golden State, and set them up to make default loans for
you, then, if you had enough of these guys, the Feds would not know
who much real-estate was involved. When these default loans failed,
they go up for auction. If you knew when this was going to happen,
like gold dust falling through the cracks, and you bought these
houses you held a secret mortgage on through small-timers you made
privte loans to, then this is Big Time loan sharking – involving
millions of dollars! One is in affect, acquiring much valuable real-
estate, for a song.” After I gave same names of Vic’s business
associates, and told her one of them was known to haunt default real-
estate auctions, my mother gagged on her Vodka. “Jesus Christ Greg.
These are bad men. Stay away from them they will kill you. Your own
father will kill you! Bob Woodard took our house in Concord.” Tom
McKinny, was dismissed for inproprieties, he the President of
TransAmerican Title, a Savings and Loan business headquartered in the
TransAmerican pyramid building in San Francisco. He was a member of
Vic’s gang when they attended Oakland high school together. In April
of 97, my Detective friend sent me an article from the San Francisco
Examiner (4-20-97) he found on page three. It reads; “Broker defends
loan to widow, by Anastasia Hendrix. The lender and loan broker
embroiled in controversy over the threatened eviction of a 78 year-
old Oakland widow denounced unscrupulous lending practices, but
insisted there was none in this case. In seperate interviews, broker
Charles H. Oliver Jr. and San Francisco investor Lawrence Chazen,
angrily objected to the cross-fire of publicity and politics.” This
article went on to say; “The Olivers are outraged that the U.S.
Department of Housing and Urban Development officials publicly said,
before investigating, that they believed Aiken’s case was an example
of predeotry lending practices.” Mark and I attended Oakland High
School with Mattie Aiken’s grandchildren. Before I lost touch with
Shannon over eight years ago, she said this to me at then end of our
phone call, after I and my detective friend assured her we were on
her side; “Be careful Greg. My friends think my life is in danger.
The first thing they’re going to do is make you out to be insane.”