The Binge Cases: Denise Didn't Come Home - My Fugitive Dad | 3. The Last Randele

Episode Date: December 18, 2023

At a social security office in Boston, Ted Conrad is reborn as Thomas Randele. It was the first time this surname was ever recorded. Then he went about making friends and making excuses for why he didn’t have to work. Ashley sifts through her Dad’s past trying to figure out what he told her is actually true and what isn’t. She interviews her Mum, Kathy, who reveals that her Dad hadn’t wanted kids when they first met. Subscribe to The Binge to get all episodes of Smoke Screen: My Fugitive Dad, ad-free right now. Click ‘Subscribe’ at the top of the Smoke Screen: My Fugitive Dad show page on Apple Podcasts or visit GetTheBinge.com to get access wherever you get your podcasts. A Neon Hum Media & Sony Music Entertainment production. Find more great podcasts from Sony Music Entertainment at sonymusic.com/podcasts and follow us @sonypodcasts Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

You're listening to Smokescreen, my fugitive dad. Before you dive in, if you want to listen to the whole story uninterrupted, you can. Unlock the entire season ad-free right now with a subscription to The Binge. That's all episodes, all at once. Unlock your listening now by clicking subscribe at the top of the Smokescreen show page on Apple Podcasts or visit getthebinge.com to get access wherever you get your podcasts. There's Ashley hugging daddy. This is New Year's, January 1st, 1992. And Ashley's hugging her daddy.

And what was he like personality-wise growing up? He was my favorite person in the world. And he was also always telling dad jokes. He was incredibly thoughtful in a really sweet and dorky kind of way. He worked in the car business, so he always drove a super cool car, and he drove around listening to whatever the latest top 10 song was. He was also an impeccable dresser, always put together. Though he could have upped his game with a flat front pant over the pleated pants he loved,

but I will let that go. And did he talk a lot about his past? You know, like where he came from? No, he really never spoke about his life before Boston. Pretty much every story I know about him is from when he met my mom onward. No, he really never spoke about his life before Boston. Pretty much every story I know about him is from when he met my mom onward. Family has always been so important. I mean, since I was a small child, I mean, even when I was, I think, 10 years old, so fifth grade Ashley, we were hanging out in the living room one afternoon.

And I remember I said very seriously that I had, you know, made a decision about my life. And I can only imagine like what big decision he thought that I had come to. And I remember telling him that because I'm an only child and that he's an only child as well and he had no family, that I would be the one that carried on the Randall family name. And that if I ever got married, I would stay a Randall. That, you know, his name wouldn't die with me. He really wasn't somebody who was prone to show surprise or shock. But when I told him that, he looked so touched and almost a bit teary-eyed. And it's an astonishing moment now that I think about it,

because at the time, I really didn't have the faintest notion that I wasn't just the last person born a Randall. I was the only person born a Randall. I was the only person born a Randall. But knowing what I know now, I think about it really differently. Because my dad wasn't Tom Randall. I mean, he was Ted Conrad. He was the center of a nationwide manhunt, like a wanted fugitive hiding in plain sight. But then I have to ask myself, you know, what did building this life cost him? I mean, essentially, he built this life on a lie.

Well, you're doing a great job there. Daddy. Daddy, come around. Come around. All the way. Good morning. Good morning. Hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey, hey. Hey, Daddy, come around. Come around. All right. Good morning. Good morning.

Ten o'clock and we're ready to go. Good. You all right? Yeah, just fogging my glasses. Wow. So picking up where we left off, Ted escapes with the big bag of money in June of 69. Things are clearly more complicated for him than the papers made it seem.

He regretted what he'd done. And he left behind friends and family and a life in Cleveland. Like, who does that? And it was one of those things that I found myself coming back to. Yeah, those early years, when he was a young man. Right. Like, what could have gone wrong there? From Neon Hum Media and Sony Music Entertainment,

this is Smokescreen, my fugitive dad. I'm Jonathan Hirsch. And I'm Ashley Randall. Chapter 3, The Last Randall. The opening credits to The Thomas Crown Affair are kind of amazing. There's this lyrical and lyric-heavy song that plays through the whole beginning. It's kind of overwhelming, called The Windmills of Your Mind. Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel, never ending.

The song is performed by Noel Harrison, while multicolored split screens dance in and out of the field of vision, telegraphing major moments in the film. Get a quick snapshot of Steve McQueen laughing as he smokes a cigar, a banker in Switzerland counting big piles of money, Faye Dunaway locking lips with the hero. It's a lot. The melody is this harried ostinato tumbling over and over down the song,

like someone falling down a flight of stairs. The authors of the song, Alan and Marilyn Bergman, had written it as a stream of consciousness, connecting all these different images and feelings in this way that makes it feel out of control and big and inscrutable. The way you might feel when you've made a big mistake, let's say, or when some tremendous problem

is staring you in the face, you can't escape it. "'I think we were thinking,' one of the authors said. "'You know, when you try to fall asleep at night "'and you can't turn your brain off, "'and thoughts and memories tumble. The music is an interesting choice for opening credits. It's heavy with lyrics that are complex and in your face. Right as I imagine, Ted and Russ might have been sitting down with their respective dates, big bag of buttered popcorn and a Coke. By some accounts, Ted saw the movie a dozen times.

This was before he made his own big and sun-eclipsing mistake, the kind you might play over and over again on repeat for a lifetime. Pete Elliott, the son of Deputy Marshal John Elliott, said to me this one time that the story of Ted Conrad tells us why things don't exactly play out like we've seen them in the movies. And Pete is right on so many levels. But for Ted, this feels especially true

when you think about who he was as a kid, what he was like in those years leading up to his own bank heist. And Ashley, ever since she'd found out the truth, she wanted to know who her father had been when he was Ted. I need to hear all of the childhood stories he didn't tell me.

I'm also trying to see if Ted feels at all familiar. Like, was my dad always super cool as a cucumber and kind of secretive? Or did he become that way after the crime? Or was it because of the crime? Ted and Russ first met at the far end of the Lakewood High campus, where the football field's located. When I got to Lakewood, and Ted was playing ball as well, and we both ended up being, on defense, we both ended up being linebackers.

We were both about the same size at the time. He said they both loved to hit. Ted liked to hit me more than... Ted was funny. So anyhow, that's how we met. And we got to be friends. And he lived around the corner from me. And so...

They'd carpool into school together. Sounds like one of those typical high school friendships. You know, that person you just like for reasons you can't quite explain. And he also lives across the street from you. Ted was one of these guys that he was very playful. He found out early on that there was a certain way you could hit me, my nose, that it would start bleeding. And so whenever we were in our away uniforms, they were white, and he would hit me during warm-ups, and of course I'd bleed, and I'd bleed all over my jersey. And it scared the heck out of the guys on the other team,

because they saw this big guy coming in there with a bloody nose and blood on his shirt, and they hadn't even started the game yet. He said he and Ted both felt a bit like outsiders. About a year before they met, Ted and his family had moved to Cleveland from Colorado. So Ted too was adjusting to the new school and scenery. And when they came back to Cleveland after going away to college for a year, they picked up where they left off, getting jobs at banks down the street from each other, going out on dates with their girlfriends together, wearing matching outfits. Just kidding. He was in my mom's eyes,

and my sister and my little brothers, he was a hero. They just thought he was the greatest guy that ever lived. I remember, my sister will kill me for saying this, but she had the biggest crush on him, and he came up to her one day when we were driving to school and said, hey, Marilyn, what are you doing this weekend?

And she's going, oh my gosh, I'm finally going to get a date with Ted. And he said, Yeah, Russ and I are going out with these two girls, and I need a babysitter for my two brothers. And it just broke her heart. And that's the way Ted was. I mean, it was like I always felt like I was the ugly girl with him. That's how I felt with Ted, because he had blonde hair, these gorgeous blue eyes, and he just had the greatest smile.

He could charm a room, and people loved him. Russ told me you couldn't be out with Ted and not be happy. He had this kind of halo effect on people. But I was surprised to hear underneath all that, life at home for Ted was not cheery. His mom and dad got divorced. His mom left his dad for another man. His dad remarried, though, moved to New Hampshire, near where he was a professor at New England College. And his mom quickly remarried, too. I think there was a rift between his stepfather and himself. I don't think his stepfather liked him very too. I think there was a rift between his stepfather and himself.

I don't think his stepfather liked him very much. And I remember feeling terrible because I thought, who wouldn't like this guy? He hated his stepfather. He just felt like his stepfather was using Ted to anytime the kids needed babysitting or anytime they needed errands done or anything. I think Ted loved his mother very much. And by the way, I never liked his stepfather either. He was this egotistical, upright bass player

in the Cleveland Symphony and in other symphonies. Raymond Marsh, Ted's stepdad, who would later work in restaurants and ran a bar. I think Ted felt like, who's this guy coming in and trying to run my life? When Ted decided to go to college at New England, he stayed with his father and his new girlfriend. But according to Russ, they weren't getting along very well at the time either. You know, his father was a very staunch, very straight-laced Navy captain. So by the time Ted returns to Cleveland, in a way,

he didn't have a true home. His mother was rebuilding her life. I think he felt like she betrayed him. But again, this is my opinion, because she married Ray. And, you know, Ted was trying to be the, wanted to be the man of the family. We did reach out to the Conrads for this story.

And while they were supportive of the project, they declined to participate. So we can't be sure how the brothers and sisters of Ted felt about the new marriages in the family. As a kid growing up in Chicago, there was one horror movie I was too scared to watch. It was called Candyman. It was about this supernatural killer who would attack his victims if they said his name five times into a bathroom mirror. But did you know that the movie Candyman was partly inspired by an actual murder. I was struck by both how spooky it was, but also how outrageous it was. Listen to Candyman, the true story behind the bathroom mirror murder, wherever you get your podcasts. But back to that summer when Ted returned home from college, the soundtrack of those long, humid, hot days in 1969 was The Thomas Crown Affair.

Laissez-faire sex symbol and savant Thomas Crown pulls off a heist for the ages, eludes authorities at every turn, and seduces the hottest insurance investigator the world has ever seen. Almost makes her desert her post to join him. You can see why that story would appeal to a handsome kid recently dropped out of college and working at a bank. His obsession with the film seems to answer all the key questions. Why he would do it? What motivated the decision. But what I will say is that it never really answered for me

how he could have left his entire family behind. It's possible, as I mentioned, he thought there was a statute of limitations, that seven years after the heist, he would come back home and all would be well. Maybe he didn't realize that once he's indicted, that statute is moot. Or maybe he didn't want to face the music and turn himself in.

Things got out of hand. Somehow, he just couldn't look back. That last letter he wrote to his then-girlfriend Kathy Einhaus, the one expressing regret and longing for his family, was just a few weeks after he stole the money from Society National. After that, decades of silence. And according to his siblings and his parents, they didn't hear a word from him, as much as they'd hoped for it.

How did Ted leave behind people he loved and who clearly loved him? It floors me. He was a very loving person, and the fact that he could leave his family and go off and do other things. Part of what makes Ted's story so fascinating and so puzzling is that it's hard to tell whether everything he did was predetermined, calculated, ripe with meaning, or just the casual aside of a kid making flip comments and flip decisions.

When you work in a bank vault, you have to balance out. Back then, you had to run a register tape that showed that the ins and outs were the same, and here's what the balance was. And when Ted did that, at the bottom of the registered tape, he wrote, Goodbye, Columbus. Goodbye, Columbus. A novella by Philip Roth that was adapted into a film that came out in 1969, same year. The title was based on a song in the story

that was sung by graduating seniors. It reflected the good times that were had in high school, when getting from all of this. Ted's parents divorce when he's in middle school. On the surface, he seems to be having a good time in high school, makes friends with Russ, dates girls, plays football, goes to live with his dad for a semester while he's in college, and then he comes right back to Cleveland.

So things weren't great rooming with dad. But another thing that stuck out to me was his relationship with his stepdad, right? It doesn't seem like they got along. And according to Russ, that was a big issue for him. Yeah. It was a really messy time for him. Right. And of course, there's the whole leaving everything behind bit. And I'm just wondering, like, how did you feel when you heard that? It's so out of character. The dad I knew would have done anything for mom and me. I can't imagine him skipping town and never hearing from him again. Yeah, you know, Pete Elliott said this thing to me a few times.

Sort of interesting. He believes blood is thicker than water. Meaning that at some point, Ted had to have called a family member. Maybe just an anonymous message from a payphone. Something. But according to the family, nothing. It's so hard to make sense of this. Okay, so he's last seen leaving work on July 11th, 1969.

We know that. Then we know the last note that he sent was a couple of weeks later. And then from August, really through the rest of 1969, we have no idea where he is. We know for sure that he went to Washington, D.C., that a note was sent from him, stamped as having been processed in Inglewood,

so in the L.A. area. But beyond that, we really don't know much of anything for those intervening months. So it does beg the question, kind of like, where did this troubled young fugitive who supposedly became obsessed with the Thomas Crown affair go. Right? Like, where was he?

What was he doing? The fact that the marshals don't even know where he was. Right, and John Elliott, the deputy marshal, would tell you that he had this glamorous life a la Steve McQueen

and Thomas Crown, international travel and parties, girls on boats, expensive wine. Oh, goodness. But kind of the most amazing thing to me is where the story picks up, right? A few months later, when we find the answer to where he's really been all this time, and it's right in front of their nose. In January 1970, a man walked in

to the Social Security office in Boston, Massachusetts. The Thomas P. O'Neill Federal Building in downtown. It's about a 15-minute walk from the Boston Mercantile Bank, where Thomas Crown stages the elaborate heist that supposedly inspired Ted to steal the money from Society National. Somehow he convinces the Social Security office to process a new Social Security card for him under the address 55 Commonwealth Avenue, also not too far from downtown, under the surname Randall. A new man was born that day out of yet another sleight of hand, a clever deception.

The person applying for that Social Security card would construct an entire identity around his name He'd start over completely He'd shed the skin of his old identity This new man would go by the name Thomas Randall Tommy to his co-workers Tom to his family His old name? Theodore J. Conrad to his co-workers. Tom, to his family. His old name?

Theodore J. Conrad. There's been a lot of speculation as to the name choice. Perhaps Thomas because of the love of the film. And in the early 60s, there was another Steve McQueen character with the last name Randall, spelled slightly different.

He was this confederate bounty hunter with a soft side. He did keep key details the same, perhaps to convince himself of the transformation, to make it feel more real. He kept his hometown, his mother Ruthabeth and father Edward's first names. He kept his birth date, but changed the year from 1947 to 1949. He rented a nice apartment overlooking the waterfront in downtown Boston. Then he blended into the crowd. John Elliott didn't know it at the time,

but this is when the trail of Ted Conrad went completely cold. He was as good as dead. Ted would talk about how lax the security was. I mean, he said, they didn't even fingerprint me when I came to work for this. And he would work in a vault that had two, three million dollars in it. I went to the bank. First question I asked is, where's the fingerprints?

We don't have any. I says, you gotta be kidding me. That summer, a kid named Marty Milko was working for his dad in Boston. I met Tom, I think it was like in July or August. And I met him through a mutual friend named John Sidman. And Tom and John were really good, good friends. And then I became really close to Tom, true John. And we just hanged out together.

He met this pleasant, charming guy named Tom Randall at a party. Tom was always really good looking. And he had a beard, well-dressed, chain smoker. Kept always smoking and just a little nervous. That summer, they became fast friends. He introduced Tom to his whole crew. John, Paul, I ran to me, my brother Tom Elko, and we just did all kinds of great things growing up together. But it didn't take long for Tom's new friend to wonder what his deal was.

You know, he never worked. You know, the big question was, how did Tom get his money? You know, did he work for the mafia? I mean, what was he doing on the side? Is it legit? Does he sell drugs? This Tom fella was living in a bachelor pad all on his own, barely needing to work. He couldn't help but wonder, what was that all about? One day, Tom told Marty what was really going on.

He was reeling from an unspeakable tragedy. That only time I saw him was sad when he was saying that his parents were killed with his twin brothers at a car accident. It was during, on summer break, the year before I met him. He said they died in a car accident, being burned alive. And we said, oh God, the pain that he's in. You know, and we just couldn't imagine anything. He'd lost everything, and he was now living off the life insurance money he'd been given. It was a lie, of course, but also the perfect cover.

Yeah, we always thought he was in pain, psychological pain from the tragedy. So we always more or less gave him his space. You know, we were close, but yet he was in pain, psychological pain from the tragedy. So we always more or less gave him his space. You know, we were close, but yet he was quiet. You know, he never talked too much about his growing up. And he was like, okay, you know, look, he went through hell, losing his parents and his two brothers. So we just kind of let him be. He loved to get in his car and just drive.

Back then, he could be a loner. Nothing like the man he'd later become. And he used to be gone for a couple days, sometimes a week, and drive all over the country. And we just figured that's his way of dealing with his pain. He wanted to be accepted by, I think, by everybody. But you couldn't really get that close to him. Great to be around, but let's not go too deep about who I am.

It explained why he seemed so sad, so frequently withdrawn. And it just used to get in his car and drive and gone for four, five, six days. Then come back and call us and we just hanged out together. When you hear about this, what do you think?

I mean, it's really horrifying. Yeah, it's pretty bad. Because I had never heard that violent story before. The story that I was always told and that my mom was told by my dad was that he was an only child. His parents had died in a car crash when he was 18. It was too sad to be where they were living. So he moved to Boston. To hear that he described it so violently, that's just unthinkable.

And you can imagine people not wanting to ask any questions about that. Yeah. The only thing you can say to that is, I'm so sorry, full stop. Yeah. So I hope that the reason he made the story so gruesome was to ensure that no one asked any questions. He had to. Right? But I now wonder, at what point did he think,

perhaps that's a little much. Maybe I'll just make it that my parents died in a car crash. Which feels a little bit more palatable. Yes, like it's a terrible, it's still a terrible tragedy. this detail sort of puts us back in the clever enterprising fugitive realm of understanding ted who's now tom because he shaped his story over time it became a little bit more, maybe even more believable.

I was thinking it became a bit more generic, right? Like people die in car crashes all the time. Right. It also sort of raises the question about those long car rides, you know? Where did he go? Who did he see? But it does make me wonder

if he was going back home to Cleveland. Did he drive up north to visit his dad? And he was traveling to almost check out, were the police still around? Were they still actively looking for him in Cleveland? Were there FBI vehicles up by his dad's place in New Hampshire? Yeah. And then I think the other way really echoes the letter that he sent to Kathy Einhaus, which is a sad kid realizing he can't go back. And if it were me, I'd be driving up to where my dad lived and, you know, kind of hunched

down low in the front seat with a baseball cap on because you just want to see your dad. And then by all accounts, there's that group of them who spend the whole summer together having fun. And maybe that's when he sort of settled in and thought, oh, I have people that care about me and I care about them. And this is not a bad life to have. Like maybe this Tom life is not just a stop gap for seven years. Maybe this is my new life. Yeah. And then of course, after he turns that corner and sort of settles into this new life,

eventually that's when he meets Kathy. One, two, three, four. Are you good so far? Tell us about meeting Dad for the first time. What was that like? Well, the first time, I remember him, but it wasn't... I gotta say, it's strange to do this. To be interviewing my mom and investigating my dad, I feel like I'm listening to a private conversation through a closed door. You know, over the years thinking about, yeah, I did.

I've rolled with a lot of punches. Doesn't mean I didn't get upset, but there was no option in many cases. As I say, I was always waiting for the shoe to drop. I always knew that there would be something more that would be happening. Mom and Dad first met on a summer trip to the Cape. Some friends had rented a place on Mashpee Island for the summer. He came down with the girl he was dating at the time, whose roommate was dating a guy that lived there. She didn't think of him romantically back then. After all, he was seeing

someone else, as was she. But she does remember his beautiful blue eyes. So that's when I first met him. He hung out with the guys after that. Then I didn't meet him again until late, I think 1978, maybe, 79. They circled around each other for years before finally getting involved. My mom remembers this one time in the early 70s that he went out of his way to make her comfortable. I was dating a guy at the time, and I was meeting him in Boston, but it was, he was going to be getting there later than I was, so Tom had me come for dinner, and he made chicken parmesan for me. That I remember. It's such a Tom thing to do. Years before they were even dating,

when mom was just the girl his buddy was seeing, he went out of his way to make sure she was taken care of. Cooking her dinner so she wouldn't be waiting around for her boyfriend alone. And in case you were wondering, yes, my mom, like my dad, was also a babe. Tall and slender with dark straight brown hair falling to her waist. She actually worked as a print model for a hot second. She was, and still is, absolutely gorgeous. Dad affectionately called her babe for a reason.

Mom had been dating Marty's brother when they first met, and they were actually married briefly, too. When they broke up, Tom knew he had a chance. Being the consummate gentleman he was, he actually called up Marty's brother to get permission to ask out Mom officially. They went bowling on their first date, a little spot long closed in North Reading, Mass. And I knew then he was the one.

Just that one date with him. He said he knew I was too, even though I'm not athletic in any sense of the word. He always make fun of me bowling. This is the first of many failures in sports for me. They were a bit nauseatingly in love. Flowers for no reason. Date night on more than just Valentine's Day or an anniversary.

Thoughtful gestures. Like Dad making sure he was done with golf on Sundays before mom woke up so they'd have time together. Mom cooking dad's favorite meals and vice versa. They both worked hard to make sure the other really knew how special they were. It was just the feeling, the connection with him that I had. He was a nice guy, but there was more of a feeling towards him than I had with anybody else ever. Mum says he felt the same way. They dated for several years before they decided to get married. He wasn't a wise guy.

He wasn't flippant. He was sincere when he talked to you. I mean, he'd look you straight in the eyes. He'd come around and open the door, put my coat on, pull the chair open, all of that, which a lot of guys didn't do. Dad was a complete gentleman. With Mom, of course, but really with everyone. He wasn't someone who acted like he couldn't be trusted or held any secrets. I don't try to take it apart too much because I don't remember a lot of, you know, the littly things, but he was just wanted me to be happy. Mom knew some vague details about his life prior to meeting her.

He shared enough so you felt you knew him. I think Willie said the money he had was from when his parents died. And that's all I, you know, and that he had lived in Boston and invested in real estate and he had lost the money. It was never questioned, my dad's past. I don't even think I knew he had money at one point. Mom never talked about it. They were so in love, and it was as if the life that happened before they were together didn't even exist. So, I'm handing you a Valentine's card you gave to Dad. You're so much more than just my husband. You are the face I can't wait to see at the end of a long day. The arms I want wrapped around me. When I'm feeling all alone in the world.

And the only person in the universe I'd ever want to spend forever with. Loving you on Valentine's Day and always. I love you from here to the moon and back on Little Liam's feet. Katie. Yeah. He was the only one ever. She remembers when they decided to get married. She picked him up from the airport in Boston.

They came home to their house on Carter Road in Linfield, the one they bought from my grandparents. It was this three-bedroom, Cape-style house, white with black shutters, a sleepy little street. It was Kathy's childhood home. It became mine too. It must have been the weekend or something because she says they spent a couple of days just laying on the couch watching TV. And he says, well, I think we should get married.

What do you think? That was basically it. No down on the knee. No romantic gesture. I think we should get married. What do you think? I'm like, okay. And he said, so when? Like in a couple of months or so? I said, sure, that's fine with me. They had a small wedding with just my grandparents and uncle in attendance. They actually got married at a little Y up in New Hampshire and then had the reception at my grandmother's house. After they got married, mom and dad decided to move to Florida so dad could continue to pursue his passion as a semi-pro golfer. I can definitely understand dad wanting to move to Florida, if only for the golf. Because they never just ever, ever discussed that he wasn't happy to play, so he decided to move. Nope, it was just, it's like, well, we moved to Florida. We're moving to Florida.

I said, we are? Yep, we're moving to Florida. Okay then, let's move to Florida. Dad had a great opportunity to set mom and him up in Florida. Well, his friend Bill Escombe had a high-end used car business. And he said, I'm going to go, we're going to go work for Bill. A great job, fabulous weather, and the love of his life. And when we were in Florida, the couple that were there, Bill and Jerry,

Bill had been married before and had a couple of kids. Jerry didn't. But just to see what their lifestyle was without children, he said, I don't want that kind of kids. Jerry didn't. But just to see what their lifestyle was without children, he said, I don't want to, I don't want that kind of life. He said, I want a more that's a family. This was a 180 degree change. And then in August of 84, Tom said, um, I miss your family. I think we should move back. Okay, you miss my family. All right, that's what you want to do.

Then that's when he decided, yep, we should have a family. Because he really didn't want kids. I never pressed him on it. He said, I don't want kids. Okay, fine, you don't want kids. It's still mind-boggling to me that he didn't want kids. Because he was the most dad dad there was. I simply cannot imagine him not being a dad.

Thank goodness they met that couple who didn't have kids, or I might not be here right now. I think a lot of it had to do with seeing how Jerry and Bill lived. I mean, they had a gorgeous house. They had a lot of money. But he said that wasn't what he wanted in life. And it's interesting that for a man who now is known as taking all of this money to say to you, his wife, essentially, I don't really care about money and having things. I just want a family. Well, I don't think he ever cared about the money.

Okay, so yeah, there's a lot to go through here. So Ted, excuse me, Tom and Kathy meet. They're nauseatingly in love. They decide to move down to Florida together. Tom's still playing golf pretty regularly and working a job that he doesn't seem to like very much. And something about seeing the lifestyle of these rich friends of theirs compels him to want to have a family. So they move back home. Seems like Tom is entering this new sort of era.

Yeah. I mean, and thankfully, it's also the beginning of my life. Right, right. Daddy. Daddy, I'm from New Orleans. All the way. my life. Right, right. Also, this was kind of like peak Tom years. You mean being your dad? Yes.

And having a stability I think he'd always been looking for. Tom goes to the suburbs with a secret the size of Massachusetts tucked in his back pocket. And I used to say to him, what the fuck are you doing in this business? I said, you're a bright, you're articulate, you're smart. You just have all the qualities. You could do anything you want to do. That's next on My Fugitive Dad. Not only will you immediately unlock all episodes of this show, but you'll get binge access to an entire network of other great true crime and investigative podcasts, all ad-free.

Plus, on the first of every month, subscribers get a binge drop of a brand new series. That's all episodes, all at once. Unlock your listening now by clicking subscribe at the top of the Smokescreen Show page on Apple Podcasts or visit getthebinge.com to get access wherever you get your podcasts. Thank you.