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I Heard You Paint Houses: Frank "The Irishman" Sheeran & Closing the Case on Jimmy Hoffa Kindle Edition
Now updated with substantial post-publication corroboration of Sheeran’s confessions to the killings of Jimmy Hoffa and Joey Gallo.
“I heard you paint houses” are the first words Jimmy Hoffa ever spoke to Frank “the Irishman” Sheeran. To paint a house is to kill a man. The paint is the blood that splatters on the walls and floors. In the course of nearly 5 years of recorded interviews, Frank Sheeran confessed to Charles Brandt that he handled more than 25 hits for the mob, and for his friend Hoffa. He also provided intriguing information about the Mafia’s role in the murder of JFK.
Sheeran learned to kill in the US Army, where he saw an astonishing 411 days of active combat duty in Italy during World War II. After returning home he became a hustler and hit man, working for legendary crime boss Russell Bufalino. Eventually Sheeran would rise to a position of such prominence that in a RICO suit the US government would name him as one of only 2 non-Italians in conspiracy with the Commission of La Cosa Nostra, alongside the likes of Anthony “Tony Pro” Provenzano and Anthony “Fat Tony” Salerno.
When Bufalino ordered Sheeran to kill Hoffa, the Irishman did the deed, knowing that if he had refused he would have been killed himself. Charles Brandt’s page-turner has become a true crime classic.
“Sheeran’s confession that he killed Hoffa . . . is supported by the forensic evidence . . . and solves the Hoffa mystery.” — Michael Baden M.D., former Chief Medical Examiner of the City of New York
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherSteerforth
- Publication dateJune 24, 2016
- File size21536 KB
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“Sheeran’s confession that he killed Hoffa in the manner described in the book is supported by the forensic evidence, is entirely credible, and solves the Hoffa mystery.” — Michael Baden M.D., former Chief Medical Examiner of the City of New York
“I’m fully convinced – now – that Sheeran was in fact the man who did the deed. And I’m impressed, too, by the book’s readability and by its factual accuracy in all areas on which I’m qualified to pass judgment. Charles Brandt has solved the Hoffa mystery.” —Professor Arthur Sloane, author of Hoffa
“Sometimes you can believe everything you read.” — William “Big Billy” D’Elia, successor to Russell Bufalino as godfather of the Bufalino crime family
“My source in the Bufalino family . . . read I Heard You Paint Houses. All the Bufalino guys read it. This old-time Bufalino guy told me he was shocked. He couldn’t believe Sheeran confessed all that stuff to [Brandt]. It’s all true.” — New York Police Department organized crime homicide detective Joseph Coffey
“If the made men Brandt rubbed up against during his five years with Sheeran suspected what Sheeran was confessing to him on tape, they’d both have been promptly whacked.” — Joe Pistone, retired FBI deep undercover agent and the author of Donnie Brasco
I Heard You Paint Houses “gives new meaning to the term ‘guilty pleasure.’ It promises to clear up the mystery of Hoffa’s demise, and appears to do so. Sheeran not only admits he was in on the hit, he says it was he who actually pulled the trigger — and not just on Hoffa but on dozens of other victims, including many, he alleges, dispatched on Hoffa’s orders. This last seems likely to spur a reappraisal of Hoffa’s career. . . . Sheeran is Old School, and his tale is admirably free of self-pity and self-aggrandizement. Without getting all Oprah about it, he admits he was an alcoholic and a lousy father. His business was killing people, and . . . he did it with little muss, fuss or introspection.’’ — Bryan Burrough, author of Public Enemies, in The New York Times Book Review
“One of Sheeran’s virtues was his gift as a storyteller; one of his flaws was his tendency to murder, in mobster jargon, ‘to paint houses.’ . . . Although he professed his loyalty to Hoffa – he said on one occasion, ‘I’ll be a Hoffa man ‘til they pat my face with a shovel and steal my cufflinks’ − Sheeran acknowledged that he was the one who killed the Teamsters boss. . . . On July 30, 1975, Hoffa disappeared. Sheeran explains how he did it, in prose reminiscent of the best gangster films.” — Associated Press
“I Heard You Paint Houses is the best Mafia book I ever read, and believe me, I read them all. It’s so authentic.” — Steven Van Zandt, featured actor, “Silvio Dante,” in The Sopranos and musician in Bruce Springsteen’s E Street Band
“Told with such economy and chilling force as to make The Sopranos suddenly seem overwrought and theatrical.” —New York Daily News
“Is Sheeran believable? Very . . . and ‘I Heard You Paint Houses’ is a very enjoyable book.” —Trial Magazine
“A page-turning account of one man’s descent into the mob.” —Delaware News Journal
“A terrific read.” —Kansas City Star
From the Inside Flap
Frank Sheeran lived a long, violent, passionate life. As a boy he took on older kids in bar fights so his dad could win free beer. During World War II he was a highly decorated infantryman with 411 days of active combat duty and a willingness to follow orders. When an officer would tell you to take a couple of German prisoners back behind the line and for you to hurry back, you did what you had to do. He became a hustler and hit man, working for legendary crime boss Russell Bufalino and eventually becoming one of only two non-Italians on the FBI s famous La Cosa Nostra list. He was also a truck driver who was made head of the Teamsters local in Wilmington, Delaware, by his good friend Jimmy Hoffa. When Hoffa disappeared on July 30, 1975, Sheeran became a leading suspect, and every serious study of the Hoffa disappearance alleges that Sheeran was there.
For the first time the Irishman tells all a lifetime of payoffs (including hand-delivering bags of cash to Nixon s attorney general John Mitchell) and manipulation (supporting Joe Biden s election to the Senate with a Teamster action) for the book that would become his deathbed confession. He died on December 14, 2003.
Sheeran also provides shocking new information on notorious mob hits: Joseph Crazy Joey Gallo blown away as he celebrated his forty-third birthday in New York s Little Italy; Salvatore Sally Bugs Briguglio long suspected of being a player in the plot to kill Hoffa. And offers new insights to the crusading of Robert Kennedy and the death of John F. Kennedy.
This historic account is based on interviews of Frank Sheeran by Charles Brandt, who researched, cross-checked, and illuminated what Sheeran told him and turned it all into a gripping narrative that is sure to become an instant true crime classic.
From the Back Cover
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
I asked my boss, Russell “McGee” Bufalino, to let me call Jimmy at his
cottage by the lake. I was on a peace mission. All I was trying to do at
that particular time was keep this thing from happening to Jimmy.
I reached out for Jimmy on Sunday afternoon, July 27, 1975. Jimmy
was gone by Wednesday, July 30. Sadly, as we say, gone to Australia —
down under. I will miss my friend until the day I join him.
I was at my own apartment in Philly using my own phone when I
made the long-distance call to Jimmy’s cottage at Lake Orion near
Detroit. If I had been in on the thing on Sunday I would have used a pay
phone, not my own phone. You don’t survive as long as I did by making
calls about importantmatters fromyour own phone. I wasn’tmade with
a finger. My father used the real thing to get my mother pregnant.
While I was in my kitchen standing by my rotary wall phone getting
ready to dial the number I knew by heart, I gave some consideration
to just how I was going to approach Jimmy. I learned during my years
of union negotiations that it always was best to review things in your
mind first before you opened your mouth. And besides that, this call
was not going to be an easy one.
When he got out of jail on a presidential pardon by Nixon in 1971,
and he began fighting to reclaim the presidency of the Teamsters,
Jimmy became very hard to talk to. Sometimes you see that with guys
when they first get out. Jimmy became reckless with his tongue — on
the radio, in the papers, on television. Every time he opened his
mouth he said something about how he was going to expose the
mob and get the mob out of the union. He even said he was going to
keep the mob from using the pension fund. I can’t imagine certain
people liked hearing that their golden goose would be killed if he got
back in. All this coming from Jimmy was hypocritical to say the least,
considering Jimmy was the one who brought the so-called mob into
the union and the pension fund in the first place. Jimmy brought me
into the union through Russell. With very good reason I was concerned
for my friend more than a little bit.
I started getting concerned about nine months before this telephone
call that Russell was letting me make. Jimmy had flown out to
Philly to be the featured speaker at Frank Sheeran Appreciation Night
at the Latin Casino. There were 3,000 of my good friends and family,
including the mayor, the district attorney, guys I fought in the war
with, the singer Jerry Vale and the Golddigger Dancers with legs that
didn’t quit, and certain other guests the FBI would call La Cosa
Nostra. Jimmy presented me with a gold watch encircled with diamonds.
Jimmy looked at the guests on the dais and said, “I never realized
you were that strong.” That was a special comment because
Jimmy Hoffa was one of the two greatest men I ever met.
Before they brought the dinner of prime rib, and when we were getting
our pictures taken, some little nobody that Jimmy was in jail
with asked Jimmy for ten grand for a business venture. Jimmy reached
in his pocket and gave him $2,500. That was Jimmy — a soft touch.
Naturally, Russell Bufalino was there. He was the other one of the
two greatest men that I ever met. Jerry Vale sang Russ’s favorite song,
“Spanish Eyes,” for him. Russell was boss of the Bufalino family of
upstate Pennsylvania, and large parts of New York, New Jersey, and
Florida. Being headquartered outside New York City, Russell wasn’t in
the inner circle of New York’s five families, but all the families came to
him for advice on everything. If there was any important matter that
needed taking care of, they gave the job to Russell. He was respected
throughout the country. When Albert Anastasia got shot in the
barber’s chair in New York, they made Russell the acting head of that
family until they could straighten everything out. There’s no way to
getmore respect than Russell got. He was very strong. The public never
heard of him, but the families and the feds knew how strong he was.
Russell presented me with a gold ring that he had made up special
for just three people — himself, his underboss, and me. It had a big
three-dollar gold piece on top surrounded by diamonds. Russ was big
in the jewelry-fencing and cat-burglar world. He was a silent partner
in a number of jewelry stores on Jeweler’s Row in New York City.
The gold watch Jimmy gave me is still on my wrist, and the gold
ring Russell gave me is still on my finger here at the assisted-living
home. On my other hand I’ve got a ring with each of my daughters’
birthstones.
Jimmy and Russell were verymuch alike. They were solidmuscle from
head to toe. They were both short, even for those days. Russ was about
5'8". Jimmy was down around 5'5". In those days I used to be 6'4", and
I had to bend down to them for private talks. They were very smart
from head to toe. They had mental toughness and physical toughness.
But in one important way they were different. Russ was very low-key
and quiet, soft-spoken even when he got mad. Jimmy exploded every
day just to keep his temper in shape, and he loved publicity.
The night before my testimonial dinner, Russ and I had a sit-down
with Jimmy. We sat at a table at Broadway Eddie’s, and Russell
Bufalino told Jimmy Hoffa flat-out he should stop running for union
president. He told him certain people were very happy with Frank
Fitzsimmons, who replaced Jimmy when he went to jail. Nobody at the
table said so, but we all knew these certain people were very happy with
the big and easy loans they could get out of the Teamsters Pension
Fund under the weak-minded Fitz. They got loans under Jimmy when
he was in, and Jimmy got his points under the table, but the loans were
always on Jimmy’s terms. Fitz bent over for these certain people. All
Fitz cared about was drinking and golfing. I don’t have to tell you how
much juice comes out of a billion-dollar pension fund.
Russell said, “What are you running for? You don’t need the
money.”
Jimmy said, “It’s not about the money. I’m not letting Fitz have the
union.”
After the sit-down, when I was getting ready to take Jimmy back to
theWarwick Hotel, Russ took me aside and said: “Talk to your friend.
Tell him what it is.” In our way of speaking, even though it doesn’t
sound like much, that was as good as a death threat.
At the Warwick Hotel I told Jimmy if he didn’t change his mind
about taking back the union he had better keep some bodies around
him for protection.
“I’m not going that route or they’ll go after my family.”
“Still in all, you don’t want to be out on the street by yourself.”
“Nobody scares Hoffa. I’m going after Fitz, and I’m going to win
this election.”
“You know what this means,” I said. “Russ himself told me to tell
you what it is.”
“They wouldn’t dare,” Jimmy Hoffa growled, his eyes glaring at mine.
All Jimmy did the rest of the night and at breakfast the next
morning was talk a lot of distorted talk. Looking back it could have
been nervous talk, but I never knew Jimmy to show fear. Although one
of the items on the agenda that Russell had spoken to Jimmy about at
the table at Broadway Eddie’s the night before my testimonial dinner
was more than enough to make the bravest man show fear.
And there I was in my kitchen in Philadelphia nine months after
Frank Sheeran Appreciation Night with the phone in my hand and
Jimmy on the other end of the line at his cottage in Lake Orion, and
me hoping this time Jimmy would reconsider taking back the union
while he still had the time.
“My friend and I are driving out for the wedding,” I said.
“I figured you and your friend would attend the wedding,” Jimmy
said.
Jimmy knew “my friend” was Russell and that you didn’t use his
name over the phone. The wedding was Bill Bufalino’s daughter’s
wedding in Detroit. Bill was no relation to Russell, but Russell gave
him permission to say they were cousins. It helped Bill’s career. He
was the Teamsters lawyer in Detroit.
Bill Bufalino had a mansion in Grosse Pointe that had a waterfall in
the basement. There was a little bridge you walked over that separated
one side of the basement from the other. The men had their own side
so they could talk. The women stayed on their side of the waterfall.
Evidently, these were not women who paid attention to the words
when they heard Helen Reddy sing her popular song of the day, “I Am
Woman, Hear Me Roar.”
“I guess you’re not going to the wedding,” I said.
“Jo doesn’t want people staring,” he said. Jimmy didn’t have to
explain. There was talk about an FBI wiretap that was coming out.
Certain parties were on the tape talking about extramarital relations
his wife, Josephine, allegedly had years ago with Tony Cimini, a soldier
in the Detroit outfit.
“Ah, nobody believed that bull, Jimmy. I figured you wouldn’t go
because of this other thing.”
“Fuck them. They think they can scare Hoffa.”
“There’s widespread concern that things are getting out of hand.”
“I got ways to protect myself. I got records put away.”
“Please, Jimmy, even my friend is concerned.”
“How’s your friend doing?” Jimmy laughed. “I’m glad he got that
problem handled last week.”
Jimmy was referring to an extortion trial Russ had just beat in
Buffalo. “Our friend’s doing real good,” I said. “He’s the one gave me
the go-ahead to call you.”
These respected men were both my friends, and they were both
good friends to each other. Russell introduced me to Jimmy in the
first place back in the fifties. At the time I had three daughters to
support.
I had lost my job driving a meat truck for Food Fair, when they
caught me trying to be a partner in their business. I was stealing sides
of beef and chickens and selling them to restaurants. So I started
taking day jobs out of the Teamsters union hall, driving trucks for
companies when their regular driver was out sick or something. I also
taught ballroom dancing, and on Friday and Saturday nights I was a
bouncer at the Nixon Ballroom, a black nightclub.
On the side I handled certain matters for Russ, never for money, but
as a show of respect. I wasn’t a hitman for hire. Some cowboy. You ran
a little errand. You did a favor. You got a little favor back if you ever
needed it.
I had seen On The Waterfront in the movies, and I thought I was at
least as bad as that Marlon Brando. I said to Russ that I wanted to get
into union work. We were at a bar in South Philly. He had arranged
for a call from Jimmy Hoffa in Detroit and put me on the line with
him. The first words Jimmy ever spoke to me were, “I heard you paint
houses.” The paint is the blood that supposedly gets on the wall or
the floor when you shoot somebody. I told Jimmy, “I do my own carpentry
work, too.” That refers to making coffins and means you get
rid of the bodies yourself.
After that conversation Jimmy put me to work for the International,
making more money than I had made on all those other jobs put
together, including the stealing. I got extramoney for expenses. On the
side I handled certain matters for Jimmy the way I did for Russell.
Product details
- ASIN : B01GMSYSOW
- Publisher : Steerforth; Updated edition (June 24, 2016)
- Publication date : June 24, 2016
- Language : English
- File size : 21536 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Print length : 400 pages
- Best Sellers Rank: #74,587 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
- #27 in Biographies of Organized Crime
- #119 in Biographies of Murder & Mayhem
- #132 in Criminology (Books)
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About the author

Born and raised in New York, Charles Brandt is a former high school teacher, welfare investigator and homicide prosecutor. He has been named by his peers as one of the best lawyers in America. He now lives in Delaware with his family.
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Customers find the book fascinating, excellent, and candorous. They appreciate the well-researched, informative, and thought-provoking details. Readers describe the writing quality as well-told, compelling, and fast. They also say the author is believable and the story is solid. Opinions are mixed on the story quality, with some finding it highly entertaining and easy to read, while others say it's boring and confusing.
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Customers find the book fascinating, excellent, and eye-opening. They say it rings true and resonates with candor. Readers also mention the story is riveting and immersive.
"...Indeed, Sheeran performed well...." Read more
"...The story of Frank Sheeran is an interesting, dark, and sometimes brutal thing...." Read more
"...IHYPH is fun reading and highly recommended to true crime aficionados." Read more
"Excellent book - I recommend it for some readers and with some qualifications...." Read more
Customers find the book well-researched, informative, and thought-provoking. They say it answers their questions and backs up long-held beliefs. Readers also mention the author's research cannot be questioned.
"...Amazingly, there's a great deal of US history here beyond Jimmy Hoffa...." Read more
"...a movie adaptation of this book out on Netflix which is extremely accurate to the book." Read more
"I thought this was a good , truthful, well documented effort...." Read more
"...Whew! This is the reason this book is so long...the research by the author is amazing...." Read more
Readers praise the writing quality of the book. They mention it moves the narrative quickly and suspensefully. Readers also appreciate the factual commentaries that provide useful contexts of time, people, and great clarity.
"...The narrations are enhanced by Brandt's factual commentaries that provide useful contexts of time, people, and events...." Read more
"well written , as the movie was. But this has the full and true story" Read more
"...But the interest was still there, and I found the details very enlightening...." Read more
"...presents a case that answers those questions definitively and with great clarity. Excellent book!" Read more
Customers find the book credible, solid, and shocking. They say it's a well-written account of Mafia figures drawn out in considerable detail. Readers also mention the author provides clear and believable confessions to a series of murders.
""I Heard You Paint Houses" is a solid true crime biography of Frank "The Irishman" Sheeran. Plenty of fascinating mob history and lore is included...." Read more
"...Most of the stories are interesting and appear reasonably believable - some seem a little far-fetched...." Read more
"...Over an entertaining book for true crime buffs, a few slow parts when talking about Hoffa's trials, but ultimately those slower parts were needed..." Read more
"...it to be even more chilling how the author provides clear and believable confession to a series of murders, including the murder of one the men he..." Read more
Customers find the pacing of the book interesting, exciting, and engaging. They say the flow is amazing and the details are heavy. Readers also mention the book makes plausible sense as to what happened.
"...As for Jimmy Hoffa, this book makes plausible sense as to what happened. If you want a page turner, this is it!" Read more
"...The reading goes slow for me, as the detail is heavy and compelling. The level of research by and credibility of Brandt's work is superb...." Read more
"...with explanatory sections by the interviewer/author, was quietly terrifying...." Read more
"...Over an entertaining book for true crime buffs, a few slow parts when talking about Hoffa's trials, but ultimately those slower parts were needed..." Read more
Customers find the book well worth buying, saying it's worth the time. They also say it's an outstanding account.
"...it's all true or not .... doesn't matter to me... as a book it was worth the time. good companion to the movie" Read more
"...this is a good account and as near we're going to get to having the hoffa case closed...." Read more
"...Worth your time and money. You won't be disappointed." Read more
"It's well worth the money. If you believe 50% of what is in there it will answer many many questions - at least did for me...." Read more
Customers have mixed opinions about the story quality. Some find it highly entertaining, easy to read, and fascinating. However, others say the book is boring and confusing. They also mention the prose lacks flow and polish.
"...At times, the story rambles and repeats itself...." Read more
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"...showcase the stars, and they did a great job, but the storyline was pretty hard to follow. The book fills in all the empty spots." Read more
"...First the movie: too long, boring, but I must admit I watched it at home on Netflix which IMO diminishes focus as I will scan newspapers at the..." Read more
Customers have mixed opinions about the book. Some say it's hard to put down and an interesting read, while others find it repetitive and difficult to follow.
"I bought it as a gift for Dad. He stated it is really good and hard to put down." Read more
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Frank Sheeran's life of killing everything he touches...
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I Heard You Paint Houses is a taped narration by 83-year-old Frank Sheeran of his life as a hit man, thief, thug, bagman, and corrupt Teamster official, to all of which he had taken like a fish to water. Against daunting evidence of his having a conscience, he asks from his grave that we believe his narrative. Still, one warms to him, a 6 foot 4 good-looking "stand up" guy known as "The Irishman", who looks like a crooked, friendly cop on the take, likable for his rough candour, boozing, and ball room dancing, noted for his cold eyed stare above a half smile look, and his stammer under stress. Hearing him in one's mind is like listening to the voice heard in darkness by a priest in a confessional box, the face of the speaker unseen. The irony that Sheeran is speaking in an assisted living facility does not escape you. Sheeran, an aged, much-used assassin, optimistically speaks of a "shot" at heaven by confessing to a priest who will grant him absolution. If Sheeran can make it, the whole neighborhood can make it. Who can say that Sheeran the pentitent did not shake hands with Sheeran the predator who was waiting outside the confessional, sniffing the air for money for his estate? If Sheeran were the reader, would Sheeran believe someone with his history? Is Mayor Bloomberg 6 feet four?
The book is the work of Charles Brandt, former Chief Deputy Attorney General of Delaware, who oversaw the tapings after dogging Sheeran for several years to make them. The narrations are enhanced by Brandt's factual commentaries that provide useful contexts of time, people, and events. When shown the book, Sheeran, hunched over, appraised it. "The title sucks", he said. Indeed, the title does "suck", but don't let the title fool you. The book is an artful work crafted by Brandt so intensely that one is not surprised that Brandt as pall bearer carried Sheeran to the very lip of his grave, perhaps out of an impulse to learn at the last moment whether Sheeran had conned heaven out of God.
As one closes the book, one imagines its array of characters and events. Sheeran in front and center, and around him, the warriors Jimmy Hoffa and Robert Kennedy, Russell Bufalino, the most powerful godfather in the United States who had a hand in the Bay of Pigs tragedy ("These Kennedys could louse up a one-car funeral", said Sheeran.), Sam Giancana, who sent his mistress to a grateful President in Camelot, Crazy Joe Gallo, whacked by Sheeran in Umberto's Clam House, Frank Fitzsimmons, the Teamsters president annointed by the imprisoned Hoffa and corrupted by the mob, the liberation of Dachau by US soldiers, Sheeran among them, Sam Giancana's associate, Jack Ruby (remember him?), known socially to Hoffa and Sheeran, Joe Colombo whacked by a "cowboy" who was promptly shot, "Bugs" Briguglio, a hit man shot twice in the head by Sheeran while greeting him heartily, prison guards who for years watched Sheeran, more mean in prison than on the street, the men Sheeran had whacked all of whom presumably had a last roll call in Sheeran's confession, the Cosa Nostra commission of which Sheeran was one of the only two non-Italian members, Attorney General John Mitchell as bagman to whom Sheeran delivered large sums of green stamps, Nixon signing the commutation of Hoffa's sentence, the Teamster Pension Fund used by Hoffa and Cosa Nostra as a private bank, crooked Teamster officials, goons and hit men of competing unions, even E. Howard Hunt accepting a truckload of weapons from Sheeran in Florida. All these and many more from central casting loiter in your memory. No stumble bum hitman this Sheeran who speaks of the killing of President Kennedy to whom the mob gave Illinois as an electoral gift after a chat with Kennedy's former bootlegger father, a Sheeran who speaks with ease of the mob's attempt to poison Castro, the mob who with the warrior Hoffa hated Robert Kennedy for his drive against organized crime. What did Bufalino mean when, having trouble with a recalcitrant Hoffa, he said to Hoffa that Hoffa was not showing "appreciation for Dallas"?
Sheeran was born in 1920 in Philadelphia in a poor Irish-Catholic family that solved its rent problems by flights from one to another unsuspecting landlord. Grey was the color of his childhood, his father an unloving, feisty, common type, bitter in occasional jobs during the Depression. He took little Sheeran to farms where they would steal vegetables, flee steps ahead of gunshot pellets, and spread their takings on the table for the family's meal. His father, however, showed a spark of economic promise. He would enter bars and wage a quarter matching the 10 year old Sheeran against the 15 year old son of any customer. If Sheeran lost, his head would feel the cuff of his father's hand. In his first and last year at high school, an incautious principal unjustly cuffed Sheeran's 16 year old head and promptly received Sheeran's personal broken jaw award. Years of drifting in the bottomlands of Depression work followed: carnival work as a laborer, sex lessons from carnie dancers remembered by the aged but still grateful Sheeran as " Little Egypt" and "Neptune", work as a logger and talented dance instructor, winding it all up in August 1941 in his Army enlistment at 20.
World War II drew Sheeran into an horrific 411 days in unrelenting combat in which he learned to kill the enemy and especially the captured enemy. "The lieutenant gave me a lot of prisoners to handle and I did what I had to do". He killed them routinely, the way you and I comb our hair. He particpated in the massacre of more than 500 German army prisoners of war at Dachau after it had been liberated. "And no body batted an eye when it was done", he said. "Somewhere overseas", Sheeran said in an unusual reflective mood, " I had tightened up inside, and I never loosened up again. You get used to death. You get used to killing."
Discharged at 25, he did hard labor, was a bouncer, taught dancing, married, had children, worked and repeatedly stole from his employer, drove trucks, and then "at some point, I just joined that other culture" in which he met the godfather, Russell [Rosario] Bufalino, who "changed my life". He became Bufalino's driver. Sheeran loved, revered and respected Bufalino, a lowkeyed, quiet man. Even the reader develops a liking for Bufalino's equanimity. "Russell", said Sheeran, "treated me like a son." Sheeran handled "certain matters" for him. One day, Bufalino handed the phone to Sheeran. It was Hoffa. He said, "I heard you paint houses", an oblique reference to blood that strikes the wall or floor where someone has been shot. Sheeran answered, "I do carpentry work, too", meaning that he disposed of bodies as well. Hoffa thereupon employed Sheeran at the International Teamsters office where Sheeran handled "certain matters" for Hoffa the way "I did for [Bufalino]." Indeed, Sheeran performed well. For example, in a 24 hour period Sheeran at Hoffa's order flew to Puerto Rico, whacked two, emplaned for Chicago, whacked one, and then flew to San Francisco to report to Hoffa who complained that Sheeran was late.
Hoffa became the president of the Teamsters in 1957. By 1969 he had been sentenced to terms totalling 13 years. After the green stamps were delivered to Attorney General Mitchell, the terms were commuted in 1971 by a thoughtful "I am not a crook" President Nixon. Hoffa immediately went into high gear to regain the Teamster presidency. In 1974, Bufalino told Hoffa that the mob leaders were content with Fitzsimmons, Hoffa's successor. Fitzsimmons was weak and from him the mob leaders could obtain favorable loans from the Teamsters Pension Fund. Hoffa, however, refused to stop his campaign. Bufalino told Sheeran to tell Hoffa that if he did not stop, Hoffa would be killed. Hoffa said, "They wouldn't dare", a sign that Hoffa wasn't playing with a full deck. The mob would dare anything and he was only a 5 foot 5 tough talker who could be snuffed out like a cigarette.
On July 27, 1975, following Hoffa's public threats to drive the mob from the Teamsters, Sheeran told Hoffa that Bufalino was agreeable to a settlement meeting on July 30th. Like a starved lion, Hoffa went for the meat, so much so that he asked Sheeran to be his back up man at the meeting and to be sure to take his gun with him. In the afternoon of July 30th, Sheeran, Hoffa, and others, drove to a one-family ordinary home in Michigan. There were two "cleaners" hiding in the kitchen as Hoffa, with Sheeran behind him, walked into the hallway. Hoffa, seeing no one, panicked and went for the door knob. Sheeran immediately pointed his gun under Hoffa's right ear and blasted him twice. Sheeran, knowing that a hit man sometimes has his own house painted on the spot, dropped his gun, drove to a waiting private plane, and flew out of Michigan. "My friend didn't suffer", said
sentimental Sheeran into the recorder.
As for those vexed with the question of the location of Hoffa's body, Sheeran states that it was taken to a Detroit funeral parlor for cremation. "Anybody who says they know more than this - except for the cleaner who is still alive - is making a sick joke", said Sheeran. I like that, a touch of class at the end.
I read this book for two reasons: The first is because I'm always drawn to mafia-related tales, especially true ones, and secondly, since Martin Scorsese is turning it into a Netflix film with Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, and Al Pacino all starring in the three main roles.
The story of Frank Sheeran is an interesting, dark, and sometimes brutal thing. This man killed everything from Nazis to gangsters, and in large quantities. The book starts with a riveting chapter that sets Frank up the night before Jimmy Hoffa is killed. It had me thinking that Frank knew who did it, but had nothing to do with the actual murder, and boy was I wrong.
The book cuts away from Hoffa's murder, and takes us into Frank's childhood, and then into his 411 days of combat service during World War II. The days Frank learned how to carry out the order to murder without hesitation, and the days where Frank learned how to outlive everyone around him. I found Frank's tour of duty to be some of the most thought-provoking stuff, but I can understand why it was hard for him to discuss, especially since he was in combat for longer than the majority of humans ever in war.
There's a lot of Teamsters Union talk, and while some of it would boil down to violence, it was mostly just a bunch of names being thrown around, and elections of local unions being discussed. These parts of the book are probably the least interesting, but Frank Sheeran loved The Teamsters, and was a proud member. It was probably the thing he was most proud of in his entire life.
Hoffa's trials against Bobby Kennedy take up a large portion of the book, but Frank didn't have much of a perspective other than repeating some of Jimmy Hoffa's quotes from that time. It's a shame we'll never get to read a new book with interviews from Jimmy on this subject. His rivalry with Bobby Kennedy was an epic American tale in itself.
Things started to get truly griping around the time Jimmy Hoffa went to "school", as Frank Sheeran referred to prison. Hoffa's hatred for being inside, and how he lost his grip on The Teamsters, which eventually led to him losing his grip on reality setup the climax, as Frank finally returned to his story from the start of the book. Frank made it to Detroit the day Jimmy Hoffa was killed...
I think I was pulling for Frank more before I knew about him being in on Jimmy Hoffa's death, despite knowing he'd killed dozens of other people. Something about killing the man he claims to have respected so much, and been such close friends with, makes it hard to relate to the man. You always hear things about the mafia sending your closest friend to whack you, and in Frank's version of the Hoffa hit, that's how it went down.
Frank mentioned Giants' Stadium, which was a place you'd always hear rumored to be Hoffa's burial ground when you grew up a Giants fan. He squashed that rumor, like a few others over the years, but the details of Jimmy Hoffa's last moments were a lot less extravagant. There's stuff to be taken away from those moments, but "I Heard You Paint Houses" really left an impression on me concerning Russell Buffalino.
You hear a lot of old gangster names thrown around over the years, but I don't think I've ever had a conversation with a person that involved them dropping Russell Buffalino's name. According to the book, he was the closest living representation of Vito Corleone from "The Godfather", and Russell had final say on "The Godfather" film's script all the way back in the 70's. Another tidbit from this book about Godfather, Al Martino, who plays Johnny Fontane in the film, was actually the basis for the character, and not Frank Sinatra. Not only that, but Francis Ford Coppola didn't want Al Martino for the role, but Russell Buffalino made some calls, and it was so.
Frank Sheeran went out by starving himself to death in a nursing home. Robert De Niro is going to be playing him in the movie, and while I hear there's going to be a lot of de-aging going on, I honestly think this flick would've worked better as a Marty/Leo team-up, but what do I know?
Charles Brandt goes on to talk about how his book was well received, and most of Frank's tales were proven true, despite common beliefs before the book was published in the early 2000's (I.E.: Crazy Joey Gallo hit). Apparently, he even became friends with the actual "Donnie Brasco", and they have worked together on other stuff.
If you're interested in the true crimes of the American Mafia than "I Heard You Paint Houses" is the exact book you need to add to your reading list. Frank Sheeran interacted with everyone who was anyone during the beginning of the end of "This Thing of Ours", and all as an outsider, so it's a rare perspective.
VERDICT: READ
Reviewed in the United States on September 1, 2018
I read this book for two reasons: The first is because I'm always drawn to mafia-related tales, especially true ones, and secondly, since Martin Scorsese is turning it into a Netflix film with Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, and Al Pacino all starring in the three main roles.
The story of Frank Sheeran is an interesting, dark, and sometimes brutal thing. This man killed everything from Nazis to gangsters, and in large quantities. The book starts with a riveting chapter that sets Frank up the night before Jimmy Hoffa is killed. It had me thinking that Frank knew who did it, but had nothing to do with the actual murder, and boy was I wrong.
The book cuts away from Hoffa's murder, and takes us into Frank's childhood, and then into his 411 days of combat service during World War II. The days Frank learned how to carry out the order to murder without hesitation, and the days where Frank learned how to outlive everyone around him. I found Frank's tour of duty to be some of the most thought-provoking stuff, but I can understand why it was hard for him to discuss, especially since he was in combat for longer than the majority of humans ever in war.
There's a lot of Teamsters Union talk, and while some of it would boil down to violence, it was mostly just a bunch of names being thrown around, and elections of local unions being discussed. These parts of the book are probably the least interesting, but Frank Sheeran loved The Teamsters, and was a proud member. It was probably the thing he was most proud of in his entire life.
Hoffa's trials against Bobby Kennedy take up a large portion of the book, but Frank didn't have much of a perspective other than repeating some of Jimmy Hoffa's quotes from that time. It's a shame we'll never get to read a new book with interviews from Jimmy on this subject. His rivalry with Bobby Kennedy was an epic American tale in itself.
Things started to get truly griping around the time Jimmy Hoffa went to "school", as Frank Sheeran referred to prison. Hoffa's hatred for being inside, and how he lost his grip on The Teamsters, which eventually led to him losing his grip on reality setup the climax, as Frank finally returned to his story from the start of the book. Frank made it to Detroit the day Jimmy Hoffa was killed...
I think I was pulling for Frank more before I knew about him being in on Jimmy Hoffa's death, despite knowing he'd killed dozens of other people. Something about killing the man he claims to have respected so much, and been such close friends with, makes it hard to relate to the man. You always hear things about the mafia sending your closest friend to whack you, and in Frank's version of the Hoffa hit, that's how it went down.
Frank mentioned Giants' Stadium, which was a place you'd always hear rumored to be Hoffa's burial ground when you grew up a Giants fan. He squashed that rumor, like a few others over the years, but the details of Jimmy Hoffa's last moments were a lot less extravagant. There's stuff to be taken away from those moments, but "I Heard You Paint Houses" really left an impression on me concerning Russell Buffalino.
You hear a lot of old gangster names thrown around over the years, but I don't think I've ever had a conversation with a person that involved them dropping Russell Buffalino's name. According to the book, he was the closest living representation of Vito Corleone from "The Godfather", and Russell had final say on "The Godfather" film's script all the way back in the 70's. Another tidbit from this book about Godfather, Al Martino, who plays Johnny Fontane in the film, was actually the basis for the character, and not Frank Sinatra. Not only that, but Francis Ford Coppola didn't want Al Martino for the role, but Russell Buffalino made some calls, and it was so.
Frank Sheeran went out by starving himself to death in a nursing home. Robert De Niro is going to be playing him in the movie, and while I hear there's going to be a lot of de-aging going on, I honestly think this flick would've worked better as a Marty/Leo team-up, but what do I know?
Charles Brandt goes on to talk about how his book was well received, and most of Frank's tales were proven true, despite common beliefs before the book was published in the early 2000's (I.E.: Crazy Joey Gallo hit). Apparently, he even became friends with the actual "Donnie Brasco", and they have worked together on other stuff.
If you're interested in the true crimes of the American Mafia than "I Heard You Paint Houses" is the exact book you need to add to your reading list. Frank Sheeran interacted with everyone who was anyone during the beginning of the end of "This Thing of Ours", and all as an outsider, so it's a rare perspective.
VERDICT: READ







