Gary’s Criminal Element — Part Two
Continuation of The Family Street Gang Story
FADED GLORY
I read a book written by a Gary historian (I can’t remember who, sorry). He stated in the 70s, Gary was not a beautiful place to live anymore — and questioned if the city ever was truly beautiful. Whatever charm could be found was overcast by streets paved with broken bricks that had far outlived their usefulness. The town had no tourist attractions, beach culture, or museums.
Northwest Indiana was dominated by oil and steel, with Gary at the economic epicenter. Unfortunately, the industry left the city polluted. The mills were more than happy to supply Gary with a daily dose of toxic, stinking fumes. They also began the phenomena known to political academia as “the great layoff.” Mass firing of tens of thousands of steel employees lasted well into the 1990s.
There had not been a real revolution in municipal construction and neighborhood raising since the end of the 1920s. Downtown shops were closed and boarded up. Wealthy, affluent whites skipped town, followed by a steady flow of white blue-collar families. The Midtown District — historically (stopping short of saying traditionally) home to the black community — was emptying as well.
Blacks quickly took advantage of the ever-increasing absence of whites, jumping on opportunities to purchase homes that sold for dirt cheap, in most cases. The neighborhoods they moved in were once exclusively white. Now white absence signaled a changing of the guard. The center of town became dank and dingy rather quickly as a result. Sitting on top of all of this was a romanticized drug war between The Family and other independently operating street gangs and opportunistic drug czars.
In one year, ‘The Family’ had changed entirely what black crime looked like in Gary. They absorbed members of classic Gary street gangs such as The Kangaroos. If Kangaroo members didn’t join The Family, they instantly became belligerents in their drug war. The fighting got so intense; the Kangaroos had to relocate their headquarters numerous times.
TWO LISTS FOR THE AGES
Below is a list of known gangs I compiled that originated in the Gary area between the 1960s and 1990s. In no way is this list conclusive (or entirely accurate).
- The Family
- The Kangaroos
- One-Way Boys
- 25th Avenue Boys
- Penitentiary Gangsters
- Po’ (or Poor) Devils
- Dirty Face Angels
- The 5th Avenue Insanes
- Good Corner Boys
- Devil’s Disciples
- Concord Commons Villagers
- The Organization
- 22nd Avenue Boys
- Gary Black Catalysts
- The Bronx Boys
- The Renegades
- The Undertakers
- Sin City Disciples
- The Outlaws
- The Invaders
- The Aetna Boys
- Deuce Block Boys
- Tarrytown Rangers
- The Money Makers (M&Ms)
- The G.I. Posse (originally “Geisha Boys”)
- G.I. (Gary Indiana) Boys — Offshoot of The G.I. Posse
Some names of note are: Robert Lee “R. L.” Stokes, Anthony Rouse, Clinton Bush, William Davidson, Alfonso Beasley, Randy Mark “Mad” Yager, Terrence “Jack” Young, Charles “Soup” Campbell, Garland Jeffers, Jr., Michael Mokol, Jr., Salvador Barba, Anthony Rouse, Maurice Morris, Lee “Tony’’ Gill, Charles “Duke” & Lashawn Antione “Fats” Tanner, Michael Charo, Bradley Koonce, Sylvester “Big Nose” Marks, Jason Best, Samuel Cardwell, Percy Bell, Jasen Shaver, Wallace “Gator” Bradley, Percy McFarland, Bobby Fisher, Darrien Caper, Christopher “Chuckie” DeMarco, Charles Prichard, Ernest Green, Quentin Hindman, Will “Will Dollar” Smith, Jesus & Jay Zambrana, Robert Stokes, Grover Cleveland Barnes, Johnny Howard Tabbs, Alfonzo Beasley, and Bobby J. Suggs, amongst others.
Gone were the regular old, run-of-the-mill street hoodlums and bandits. Instead, enter criminal enterprises run by young, ruthless, heartless thugs.
IN TOO DEEP
In September 1972, ‘The Family’ took root in Chicago. Willie J. Williams, a dope pusher, became one of Jeffers’ ‘cutmen.’ They set up at 8939 S. Blackstone Avenue. Williams and another associate would cut and cap heroin at this address. Then they would deliver the dope to Jeffers in Gary, who promptly distributed the product to his workers. Finally, Williams would collect the proceeds and return to Chicago to restart the process all over again. They employed 17 enforcers in Chicago and operated a tight ship. Williams made up to $60,000 a year working for The Family.
By December of 1972, Hatcher had the Federal Drug Abuse Law Enforcement Agency (DALE) operating in Gary. DALE had a special grand jury in Hammond — both worked secretly. Any leaks meant the feds would walk away from Gary completely. The director of DALE was said to be “personally appalled” by the situation. The problem was the worst he had ever seen. It was worse than St. Louis, Detroit, Dallas, New York City, and Los Angeles. Drugs and cash flowed unchecked through the justice system into jails, the pockets of judges, police, and city government.
The feds looked at the situation as a black eye on Hatcher’s police department. However, Hatcher’s police department made the most progress against The Family (and others) in the first place. They constantly raided drug dens, gang headquarters, and rounded up dealers — on a near-daily basis. But, Gary Police Chief Charles Boone noticed they were re-arresting the same people over and over again. In addition, the offenses they got charged with were almost always bondable. The suspects were mostly drug dealers, so most could afford bail and be right back out on the streets. It was like putting a band-aid on a broken leg.
The silence from the police was loud. Even Hatcher knew The Family had his police officers in their pocket. DALE did not lack power. They were backed by the ATF and had agents working undercover in the field. However, the drug wars raged around them unchecked. People wanted a quick fix. Even with the power of the federal government, getting what they wanted was a dream.
In 1972, Garland Jeffers had his 1968 murder charges dismissed by the prosecution right before New Year Eve. He was still on the hook for conspiracy to rob and parole violations, but Jeffers’ cooperation with the state by revealing who murdered Bill Rosenberg paid off. Garland Jeffers, still incarcerated, might as well have been free and clear.
SPOILS OF WAR
Jeffers was swimming in money.
With his proceeds, Jeffers had the president of the Sin City Disciples motorcycle gang in his pocket. He toppled the leadership of the Black P Stone Rangers of Chicago with the help of hired Chicago police who moonlighted as hitmen. Anything he wanted, he got — and with little trouble. So let’s do a little math.
There was an estimated 5,000 heroin addicts alone in Gary. The Family was not serving all of them. So, let’s say The Family had 1,500 addicts who had a $50 daily habit. That would bring the total daily profit to around $75,000 a day. There’s no way to know how many addicts got served per day. I’m pretty sure everyone was not paying exact prices and receiving the same quantities of heroin. There’s a lot of wiggle room. Still, if the daily habit totals came up shorter than $50 — on average — that still a ridiculous amount of money coming in every day.
What is fact is when 1973 came around, The Family — through its paid distributors — were bringing in $80,000 a day — that’s every day without fail. This would be $491,890 a day in today's money — around $20,495.41 per hour — if the day were divided into 24-hour increments. That’s $179,539,850 a year. This is just off of heroin. The Family sold everything.
I don’t know why our media suppressed this information. Perhaps history didn’t want Jeffers’ legacy remembered. Maybe the success of The Family street gang — no doubt it was highly successful — was overshadowed by the tragedy they helped create in Gary. Perhaps people were too busy getting high and dodging bullets to care. Or, perhaps, the legacy of black criminal enterprise was destined never to reach the mythical heights of their white counterparts — no matter how many people they killed or how much money was made.
Jeffers’ workers were exceptional in their ability to bring in large amounts of revenue. One pusher by himself brought in an amount totaling about half a million dollars in four months. That’s nearly $3 million in today’s money. Add sales from cocaine, marijuana, stolen drugs, stolen weapons, Quaaludes, and extorted protection fees collected from each dealer — daily — there was no touching The Family. Period.
Even with everything seeming to align for him, Garland started having problems. Jeffers had ‘cooperated’ with police this entire time. Judges praised him for coming to court when he was supposed to, paying whatever fines they placed upon him, turning himself in when it was required. He ran the gang from jail — police were powerless to stop him. Yet, by March of 1973, something happened. Garland Jeffers failed to appear in court for his post-conviction relief hearing. As a result, a new warrant was written for his arrest. This puzzled people because he was still supposed to be incarcerated. It turns out a mix-up happened at Pendleton. This ‘mix-up’ resulted in Jeffers being released from custody early. Now, law enforcement had no idea where Garland Jeffers was.
Garland ended up turning himself in about a week later. He was released through proper measures that April because his parole officer failed to correlate police witnesses to Jeffers’ activities with The Family under oath. However, two months later, Garland was arrested again, along with his brother Nathanial, for pistol-whipping and shooting dope dealer Mitchell Calhoun during attempted extortion. It was retaliation for Calhoun and another group of thugs beating Family member Melton “Crow” Davis with bats in an alley the day before. Davis suffered a broken arm, broken jaw, ribs, bruised legs, and a concussion. The Jeffers brothers got released on bond.
NO HONOR AMONGST THIEVES
By the middle of 1973, Jeffers was hoarding nearly all revenue for himself. Garland placed the money in a secret stash, which would be used as a bank account. Only Garland had access, which he had no problem using for personal expenses. Surprising everyone, Jeffers purchased a home in Morning Side, Glen Park, to the chagrin of the neighborhood. At this time, Glen Park was still pretty much exclusively white. Jeffers hardly spent time at that house — aside from the occasional party. Jeffers frequented high-end Chicago nightclubs, hotels, resorts, and theaters nearly every day. He only stayed in Gary to conduct business, divvy out punishments, and take care of the needs of his crew.
Dissent began to filter through the ranks of The Family. Specific dealers were upset that Garland took the money for himself. His expenditures were close to $82,000 a year — not including wardrobe, housing, and groceries. Yet, The Family had a problem themselves. They were getting high on their supply. Jeffers was very lenient with his dealers on this issue at first, being the one to supply the drugs most of the time. Yet, he preferred them clean.
Several prominent dealers had severe heroin and or cocaine addictions. These addictions did not go unnoticed by Jeffers, who constantly lamented about their drug habits and how they were putting a dent in the gang’s daily money supply. Some dealers had a $300 a day heroin habit. No matter how much Jeffers punished his employees, it did nothing to curb the sheer amount of drugs consumed daily. Moreover, when high, dealers were sloppy, often getting caught with dope cutting kits in their cars or the actual money books.
Yet, Jeffers was spending money lavishly himself, which did not go unnoticed by his employees. A lot of them were jealous of Jeffers and his spending habits. The jealousy might be a moot point because Jeffers was more than willing to spend money on his family, friends, and close confidants. It seems every other day Jeffers was at a car dealership buying brand new Cadillacs — for full price — even for his low-level dealers and enforcers. He gave his closest enforcers money every month to pay rent for trusted people affiliated with the gang — in Gary, Chicago, and elsewhere. Garland logged everything in the books. As much as he spent on his people, he spent on himself. He bought the Glen Park house, throwing $20,000 in cash into the down payment. The house was his single biggest one-time purchase. Then, of course, you have furnishings, etc. None of these big purchases — not even the cars or the house — could legally be traced back to Jeffers.
Rewind a bit. The Hollywood film, The Godfather, came out in March of 1972. The film was praised, inspiring moviegoers all over the nation. Garland Jeffers was allegedly a huge fan. He paid for the film to get screened at Club 400, located at 2156 Broadway, in Gary’s Midtown District. When the audience finished the movie, Jeffers threw a huge party. Everyone that was anyone was in attendance. The music blared, the drinks flowed, and the women — oh the women — were out in full force. Jeffers bankrolled the entire occasion.
Allegedly, Garland Jeffers got presented with a throne during the peak of the party. His closest friends and family members surrounded him. Someone passed a microphone to him. Jeffers, allegedly, proclaimed himself to be “the Godfather of Gary.” As the crowd cheered him on, Jeffers and his cohorts pulled out wads of hundred-dollar bills and began to throw the money all over the place. Laughter went up, excitement reached a climax, and myth was born.
Garland’s antics even made Time Magazine.
A QUICK DOWNFALL
At the end of 1973, The Family got infiltrated. A black man, known in the city as “Big Joe,” posed as a pusher, pimp, and hustler looking to sell heroin cutting materials. His real name was Melvin Otto “Mel” Schabilion, Special Agent of the DEA. Playing the character “Big Joe,” Schabilion could get close to the gang through an old school gangster named William Douglas. Douglas, a former member of The Kangaroos, owned Club 400, where the negotiations went down. Through Douglas, Schabilion successfully traded 50 pounds of quinine (pronounced ‘Kuwhy-nine’) for heroin and cocaine to sell in the Hammond-Calumet City area. Shabilion exchanged no money. Schabilion got a phone conversation with Jeffers through LeRoy Williams, who OK’ed his request. This interaction would start the path towards Jeffers’ downfall. Also, Jeffers and his cohorts were beginning to muscle their way into the Teamsters. The rumor was they were going to extort specific individuals into paying the gang for protection. Protection from what — I don’t think we’ll ever know.
In early 1974, Garland got word that someone selling heroin in Tolleston wasn’t paying dues. He used his police connections and street soldiers to pinpoint the location the mystery pusher used. The soldiers narrowed the spot down to a gas station on the northeast corner of 15th & Burr Street. Garland and his police buddies watched the gas station but were unsuccessful in apprehending the phantom dealer. Garland became obsessed with finding this dealer.
Garland began spending inordinate amounts of time in Tolleston, hanging out at the neighborhood clubs. He frequented Clayman’s Lounge — located at 15th & Ellsworth Place, owned by John Henry Sanders. The facility tripled as a cocktail lounge, grill, and bowling alley. It was a popular hangout for pimps and hustlers. An odd thing about Clayman’s is its proximity to Tolleston Park, which sat across the street.
On February 23, 1974, a meeting happened between Garland Jeffers, a local pusher named Henry “Detroit Hank” Harris, and members of Gary Police Department — Doug Davidson, Gerald Patterson, Nathan McKinnie, and David Bullock. Garland threatened Detroit Hank, accusing him of being the mystery pusher he was searching for. During the argument, near the kitchen area of the club, Hank heavily denied the accusation. He was then questioned by Davidson, asking if he had any heroin on him. Hank rejected this as well.
Hank was asked if he could get drugs if he wanted; Hank said “yes” if he got fronted money first. Jeffers instructed Hank to call them if any of his pushers had dope that The Family did not authorize. Before he made the call, Garland told him to set his people up so that Garland and his cop buddies could rob them. Hank refused to make the call. At that moment, John Sanders booted the group out of the lounge for disturbing other club-goers.
Around this time, Jeffers began to become suspicious of “Big Joe.” Somehow, maybe by thinking real hard, he figured out “Big Joe” was a federal agent. So he started to warn his people about associating with Joe because he was getting ready to kill him. “Big Joe” is the only person Jeffers ever outright said he wanted to kill, but he would never get a chance.
On March 20th, at 4:45 am, a massive police raid got conducted. Gary, East Chicago, and South Chicago, IL were simultaneously targeted by Gary Police Department, Illinois and Indiana State Police, the DEA, and ATF. No one got away. Twenty-seven people were arrested, including Garland Jeffers, who was hiding out in Chicago. Game over.
The Family’s downfall was what allowed Chicago gangs to move into Gary and eventually take over. Law enforcement started evolving, becoming better at infiltrating large criminal organizations. Other bands would attempt to fill in the power vacuum left by The Family after its downfall.
Yet, no Gary-based gang since would ever reach the heights of prestige, wealth, and influence that Garland Jeffers reached. Jeffers made a million dollars in two years off of heroin alone and made way more than that before he proclaimed himself “The Godfather of Gary.”
The Family terrorized Gary. Their reign of violence was one reason why many whites left the city — but the gang was more of a convenient excuse than anything else (they were going to leave anyway). It didn’t matter what kind of drug you sold. If you didn’t pledge allegiance to The Family when they wanted it, they’d beat you half to death or flat out kill you.
There were many Family members — especially when the mills started laying people off by the thousands. In a way, The Family supplemented the incomes of many laid-off workers and did it better than any government welfare program ever could. Yes, they beat people senselessly, but most of their members joined voluntarily and survived without being tortured or found dead in a trunk on a humid summer day.
Selling drugs for The Family was a way to earn a year’s income at the mill in a few weeks — or days if you were dedicated enough. Pay a few hundred dollars in fees every week, and you were all good. Jump in the game, then jump out. Sure, most of the money went to the top, but is it that much different than clocking in at a dirty steel mill every day? In principle, no.
If you think I’m justifying crime, I’m doing no such thing. Instead, I’m saying I understand why The Family happened. How people like Jeffers changed the face of corruption, others would do the same after him.
Garland was sentenced in federal court to life at 27 years old and served after doing 15 years for heroin distribution. He was locked up in Cook County Jail, where he would pay two correctional officers for illegal conjugal visits, especially from Jeffers’ wife, Richie. Richie would also smuggle drugs into the jail, along with other women who came to visit fellow inmates. They were discovered and sentenced to 15 years. The time didn’t matter to Jeffers; however, what happened to everyone else involved isn’t the concern of this write-up.
Eventually, he spent his time at United States Penitentiary, Leavenworth, in Kansas. His inmate number was 02382–135.
Garland Jeffers had a son, a junior. Unfortunately, junior followed in his father’s criminal footsteps. Garland Sr. was released from prison sometime in the 2010s, giving his address as Dorie Miller Projects, 2031 Maine Street. He probably didn’t live at this address. Wherever he stayed, he kept a low profile.
Garland Peter “Peter Man” Jeffers, Sr. died July 14, 2018, at 71. There was no party or fanfare. No hint that anyone cared other than his family members. So goes the story of the region’s most successful drug dealer and gangster. Born, raised, and died right here in the Calumet region. He came in like a lion — lived fast, had his life taken away at a very young age — and went out like a mouse.
The Calumet region is full of stories. Some are happy, some are horrible, but all are ours.