It was the Mobil Oil investigator who told on Frank Abagnale, fledgling con artist. Still believing the charges were legitimate, he asked Frank the elder:
Have you given any thought to trading that car in on a new one, Mr. Abagnale?
Dad was stunned. "Why, I don’t even use my Mobil card - my son does," he said when he recovered. "There must be some mistake."
The Mobil investigator placed several hundred Mobil charge receipts in front of Dad. Each bore his signature in my hand-writing. “How did he do this? And why?” Dad exclaimed.
"I don’t know," replied the Mobil agent. "Why don’t we ask him?" (Catch Me, pages 16-17)
Frank’s Dad forgave him and paid the bill. But his mother thought he should suffer some consequence for his abysmal behavior. Frank was sent to a Catholic reform school in Port Chester, New York. While Frank did his time, his father lost his stationery store business. No longer the wheeler-dealer without financial worries, Abagnale, Sr. had a new job:
You’ll learn, Frank, that when you’re up there’re hundreds of people who’ll claim you as a friend. When you’re down, you’re lucky if one of them will buy you a cup of coffee. If I had it to do over again, I’d select my friends more carefully. I do have a couple of good friends. They’re not wealthy, but one of them got me my job in the post office...
As long as a man knows what he is and who he is, he’ll do all right. (Catch Me, page 19)
For a long time, the world knew neither what - nor who - Frank Abagnale, Jr. really was. And despite his outward “success,” he was NOT doing all right.
GO TO LAST CHAPTER BACK TO FIRST CHAPTER GO TO NEXT CHAPTER
|