1964

Jack Roland Murphy… (27) I guess you could say he was on a high-note. Murf the Surf was the newly crowned Hawaiian surfing champion. He had pie in the sky dreams of cashing in on the new surfing craze that was taking America by storm. Murphy was going to bring the sport of surfing to the East Coast and rake in enough cash to support his playboy life-style for the rest of his life. Miami Beach, Fla. was the place he would choose for his desired fame but, not as he had foreseen.

Miami Beach was the fashionable hangout of the 1960’s filled with sex, booze and sunny beaches. Tourist flocked in droves during the winter season to hangout at the top beach resorts, The Castaways, The Dunes, The Golden Sands, The Sahara and The Tropicana. These and many other resorts lavishly spilled onto the golden sandy beaches by day and filled the streets with dazzling and glittery lights by night. But things hadn’t turned out for Murphy as he had planned. He spent his days making straw hats and selling them to the sunburned tourists. Murf was a well-liked cabana boy and fucked plenty of newlywed brides while their husbands were charter boat fishing out on the Gulf Stream. The tips he got for his gratuitous service didn’t suffice. He had greater expectations and one night in a beach bar while sipping some trendy concoction he met Roger Clark (29) and Alan Kuhn (26). Kuhn could best be described as a bronze skinned, angelic faced surfer while Clark was a raven haired expert in all manner of watercraft.

Tired of being harassed by the local Miami Beach cops and being picked up for vagrancy once too often, these self proclaimed beach boys got a tip from one of Miami Beaches notorious gangsters with close connections to Meyer Lanski. Just what the boys needed an easy robbery and an easier way to dump the goods once obtained. Inspired by the endless stream of Hollywood films that depicted cat burglars and jewel thieves as romantic figures they devised a plan to sail to Nassau and rob an island millionaire and his young beautiful wife of their money and jewels. Although the cops were putting pressure on the beach boys for the job they pulled in Nassau, the evidence was insufficient. This gave the boys an idea at pulling off an even bigger job, one that was sure to go down in history as the greatest jewel heist ever. The American Museum of Natural History overlooked Central Park on the West Side of New York City. This would be their next target. This well-known museum boasted one of the world’s largest collections of precious gems and fine stones. It was also considered impenetrable by thieves with much more profession experience than these three amateur beach boys had.

October 24^th

In mid-Autumn they were on their way, three first class seats on a TWA non-stop flight to New York City. They got themselves the best suite at a fancy hotel only a few blocks from the museum. They claimed they were underwater salvage divers and began to visit the museum by day and throwing lavish parties by night. They snatched up everything they could get their hands on about the museum, purchasing the books ironically at the museum itself. They staked out the place, learning what the guard’s schedules were and how the alarm was set-up. Unbelievably the museum did not have a working alarm system. It had been dismantled years earlier to save on operating costs. The windows on the fourth floor where the gems were on display were routinely left open two inches for ventilation purposes. They decided to make their move.

October 29^th

At approximately midnight the threesome made their way back to the museum. Roger Clark had forgot his burglar tools and they had to make due with anything they found once inside. While Clark and Kuhn kept vigil, Murphy scaled a ten-foot wall with ease. He climbed down a flight of stairs and let his two cohorts in. They climbed the five flights of stairs to the top floor and used venetian blind tape to lower themselves down to the fourth floor open windows and to the precious booty. They had found a squeegee in a porter’s locker and used this and a glasscutter to shatter the glass cases and get at the choicest gem and stones. Twenty-nine gem and precious stones in all, including the Midnight Sapphire (161 kt.), the DeLong Star Ruby (100 kt.) and the world famous Star of India (565 kt.) which was mined over three hundred years ago in India and donated to the museum by J.P. Morgan in the 1920’s. The Star of India had a domed head, uncut to enhance it’s six natural rays and was the size of a golf ball. At the time the gem was valued at four hundred thousand dollars.

Immediately following the robbery the threesome went their separate ways, Roger Clark headed to Connecticut to visit his parents, Murphy and Kuhn along with a female Kuhn had been romancing headed south to Miami. Janet Flockyvicks was only 19 years old and carried the gems in a locked case. Murphy and Kuhn traveled on the same flight, but acted as if they did not know her. Once in Miami, Flockyvicks called her girlfriend back in New York and revealed that there was something suspicious about these guys. Her girlfriend remembered that back in the threesome’s hotel room in New York, there were books published by The American Museum of Natural History. Within a few hours the FBI was already at the hotel room when Roger Clark returned. He had left behind his burglar tools and wanted to retrieve them. The room was filled with too much incriminating evidence. He was arrested on the spot. In Miami, Murphy was in his hotel room fooling around with two young women. He was clad only in shorts when the FBI busted in, soon after Kuhn stumbled into the room and was quickly apprehended. On his way to the station Kuhn had remarked, "That’s what happens when you fool around with square broads."

Nov. 18^th

Murf the Surf and Alan Kuhn were flown back to New York to post bail for felony larceny charges, but by now they were media darlings and used the jewels for bargaining power. One reporter called them beach bums, but Murphy was quick to let the reporter know the difference between beach bums and beach boys. "A beach bum is a parasite." This is exactly what Miami Beach Police thought, parasites, feeding off of the elderly and the weak. One Detective was quoted as saying, "We’ve been after these guys for a long time." "They’re crack jewel thieves." But nothing could be further from the truth. These guys were amateurs all the way. They each posted their expected bail, which was set at thirty-two thousand dollars each. They flew back to Miami Beach that same day learning the FBI had dropped the charge of transporting stolen goods from state to state hoping the beach boys would cooperate. Nothing doing, the charge of felony larceny still remained.

Once back in Miami, Murphy and Kuhn were immediately arrested at the airport. The charge this time was armed robbery. A hotel clerk from the Algonquin Hotel had recognized Kuhn and Murphy from the television. He fingered Murphy as the one who had pistol-whipped him in a robbery for two hundred and fifty dollars cash. Things got really hot for the beach boys when Ava Gabor identified Kuhn and Murphy as the assailants that forced their way into her apartment, beat her up pretty good and stole fifty thousand dollars in jewels. New bail was set at one hundred and fifty thousand dollars each. The beach boys were facing a long stint in jail and the endless rolling surf would have to throw itself onto the reef, beach and point breaks without them.

Kuhn cracked and decided to give in. He took the police on a hotel-hopping spree with an army of reporters following closely behind. Finally, a tip came in; at a Trailways Bus Depot in downtown Miami they would find in a locker eight of the stolen gems, which included the Star of India. The gems were found in a soaking wet leather pouch as if they had been hidden in the sea. No longer could the beach boys claim they didn’t have anything to do with the robbery. Now facing seventeen years each for the jewel heist the prosecutor offered a mere one-year sentence for the rest of the jewels. Most of the jewels were long gone; they had used the monies to pay lawyer’s fees. Each of the three pled guilty and ended up with three consecutive one year sentences.

Meanwhile, the DeLong Ruby was acquired by a Miami gangster who offered it to millionaire John D. McArthur for a ransom of twenty-five thousand dollars. Writer Francis Angstrom was chosen as the middleman to pay the sum and get the gemstone. He was summoned to a pay phone booth, once there the phone would ring and the informant would give Angstrom the directions to the gem. The oversized ruby was actually inside the payphone booth above the hinged door. The stone was immediately handed over to a jeweler who identified it as the DeLong Ruby. The gems went back on display and thousands flocked to see the jewels as never before. Clark, Kuhn and Murphy did their time.

Ava Gabor was too busy in Hollywood acting out her part as a Hollywood celebrity to go to New York for the trial against Kuhn and Murphy. The charges were subsequently dropped.

Two years later.

The beach boys are released from jail. Clark and Kuhn disappeared from public eye, but Murphy attempted another violent robbery on an elderly Miami Beach Millionairess, Olivia Wofford. Murphy and two others forced their way into her home and made her open a wall safe. She managed to trip a silent alarm and soon her home was crawling with cops. The two thieves were easily apprehended, but Murphy leaped out a plate glass window to prevent capture. He was consequently arrested and taken to the hospital to have his face stitched up. He passed go and he collected his two hundred dollars and he didn’t go to jail. His attorney testified that Murphy did not know right from wrong. Even the state psychiatrist hired by the prosecutor said Murf the Surf suffered from the delusion that he was a Robin Hood of sorts. He got off with only probation.

1969

Murphy’s bloody climax.

He surrendered in the parking lot of Valenti’s restaurant and was charged with murder. He and an accomplice had convinced two secretaries to walk off with half a million in securities. This time Murphy didn’t want any foul-ups. He and his accomplice drowned the women and weighed down their bodies with concrete blocks. Their lifeless corpses were discovered in Fort Lauderdale in the murky and snake infested Whiskey Creek Canal. Both men were sentenced to life in prison. Murphy, again up to his old tricks had his sentence overturned for reasons of insanity and was placed in a state run maximum-security mental hospital.

1985

Murphy was considered a model inmate at the state run mental hospital. He had become a religious zealot while incarcerated and counseled other inmates. He as released after spending sixteen years for murdering the two young women. On his release the prisoners lined up and sang a hymn to him as the press recorded his return to society. Wearing a brand new dark blue suit, white shirt and red tie he saluted the maximum-security inmates and exited the hospital gates. At the press conference an American flag dwarfed Murphy as he leaned on a podium that was filled with microphones. There was a bright white cross, painted on the front of the podium. Murf the Surf gave his statement to the press…

"There were many times I didn’t believe that I would ever walk out of prison again." "But, God has a sense of humor and a timing and a style of his own." "And apparently he has something for me to do."

One reporter asked Murf the Surf what that might be? He replied, "Go surfin’."