Funny Beer League Hockey Team Names, Craigslist Rooms For Rent San Francisco, Articles B

George Bumb Sr.'s loan-repayment demands came in July 1996, just as his oldest son and his wife were about to move to Los Gatos and break away from the family and its eastside enclave. A FEW DAYS AFTER returning from his son's Oct. 13, 1995, military graduation in San Diego, Jeff and his wife, Elizabeth, got some appalling news: Their 14-year-old daughter had been involved in a sexual relationship with an older male cousin. "I mean," Jeff later said at a deposition, "it was a time of hurt and heartache for us--and not my father, not my mother, not my brother George, not my brother Tim, not Brian could care less." He followed that with suits alleging breach of contract, wrongful termination and misrepresentation. At the time, San Jose, like cities throughout the state, was strapped for cash, looking at an $11 million budget shortfall. He asked longtime family attorney Ron Werner if his brothers could write a recommendation letter for him, something state officials had told him he would need to be considered eligible for a gaming license. ON AUG. 11, 1995, Jeff sat in his Flea Market office scribbling on a piece of paper, plotting his grand return to his peach palace. According to Jeff, there was tremendous pressure from his father and others in the family to keep the incest a secret. A nurse was present to monitor his condition. Of the four brothers, Tim and George had faced the least resistance from state gaming officials. During his long tenure at the Flea Market, Venzon apparently developed a close relationship with George Bumb Sr. When Jeff and Brian were denied licenses for Bay 101, Tim (above) and brother George Jr. jumped in. (In one case, George Bumb Sr. loaned Jeff $31,250 in 1992 for his son to invest in Bay 101.) George Bumb Jr., the quiet one with a flair for things mechanical, was already at the controls of Air One Helicopter. "He took care of it." "We made it very clear to Jeff and everybody else concerned," Tim says, "that I'm not going to stick my neck on the line here. And as with any divorce, embarrassing private details about the family and its businesses made their way into the public record. Over the past year alone, Bumb & Associates and Bay 101 have given $56,000 to now-Attorney General Bill Lockyer, the man in charge of card-room regulation. Police reports would suggest she had, "for about a year," been giving "blow jobs" to 19-year-old Matthew Bumb, son of George Bumb Jr. Even though all the lights were out, she told police that she knew it was Matthew "because the moonlight shined into the room through the large windows that faced the ocean." Earlier this year, a month before Venzon was sentenced to 14 years in prison, district attorney investigator Michael Schembri closed out the Venzon case, noting in a court filing, "No new information has been uncovered relating to the murder for hire case [at the Flea Market] which our department investigated several years ago." Tim Bumb says writing a letter on Jeff's behalf would have violated the agreement with the police chief and put the club in jeopardy. "The thing they probably value most is their privacy," Bryant explains. "The thing they probably value most is their privacy," Bryant explains. Well, George, whether you want to believe it or not I do love you and you are like a father to me." George Bumb Jr., the quiet one with a flair for things mechanical, was already at the controls of Air One Helicopter. One month later, the state attorney general's office made a devastating announcement: Authorities had come across issues of "such magnitude" and "concern" that they would need at least another month to decide if gambling should be allowed at Bay 101. Jeff was also getting word from his nieces and nephews that his father said at a family poker game: "If it was up to him, all the grandchildren would marry each other." I'm on the hook for $15 million. Toward the end of the call, things got heated. Almost four months later, on July 21, 1998, George Bumb Sr. appeared in the downtown offices of Berliner Cohen to have his deposition taken. According to Werner, molestation of his daughter became part of a laundry list of damning things Jeff threatened to disclose if his buy-out demands weren't met. He wanted to relocate and expand Sutter's Place in Alviso from a five-table card room to a 40-table one, matching the size of Northern California's largest card room, Garden City in San Jose. "What am I going to say to the vice president?" ALL TOGETHER, the intrafamily litigation has spanned nearly three years. "I don't need their help," he barked at Werner. "I don't need their help," he barked at Werner. "Hell, no," George Bumb replied. But Jeff says the loan dispute screwed up their moving plans. (That thing that involved Jeff when Bay 101 was scheduled to open but didn't.)" Other allegations were more dubious: Investigators chased after a tip that the Bumbs were skimming cash from the Flea Market parking lot, an accusation that was never proven. But the Bumbs are hardly traditional political players. Jeff Bumb later explained to the press that they didn't know partnerships were required to file such reports, and they paid the state a $1,250 fine. I'm on the hook for $15 million. FROM THE protected confines of his silver 1998 Lexus SC 400, Jeff Bumb peers out his window to take in the imposing sight of the 72,000-square-foot salmon-hued house of cards he once called his baby. (In one case, George Bumb Sr. loaned Jeff $31,250 in 1992 for his son to invest in Bay 101.) It's very tightknit," says Bryant, adding that the senior Bumb doesn't give interviews--ever. Christopher Gardner The Bumbs' reputation as an unconventional, insular, wealthy, large brood keeps tongues in political circles flapping. At the time, San Jose, like cities throughout the state, was strapped for cash, looking at an $11 million budget shortfall. The guy doesn't get a slap on the hand." Don't Shoot: George Bumb Sr., the publicity-shy patriarch of the Bumb family and creator of the Flea Market, in a rare photo which appeared in California Today magazine in 1980. Life of Brian: Initially denied a gaming license by the state, Brian Bumb has since received a provisional license and become a partner in Bay 101 with his brothers, Tim and George. EVERY DAY THE CLUB stayed closed, the Bumbs lost more money. And that ain't happening because I can't afford it." They recorded the conversation. On March 17, 1993, the City Council gave Bumb and his partners the green light to open a 40-table card room on a 10-acre plot of land off U.S 101. He can't ignore it. FROM THE START, Jeff's three brothers and father didn't share his enthusiasm for opening a lavish gaming house. And as with any divorce, embarrassing private details about the family and its businesses made their way into the public record. "They didn't teach anything about this. Within weeks, Jeff says, his six-month-old dog was dead, his cat was dead and the tires of a family car were slashed. You know the school we went to?" He demanded $10 million from his brothers to compensate him for violating the purported secret Bay 101 deal. Bumb family attorney Ron Werner suggested that Jeff and his family had a hidden motive for waiting nearly a month to report the incident to police. He demanded $10 million from his brothers to compensate him for violating the purported secret Bay 101 deal. Jeff tells the story differently: "Matthew was my godson. Christopher Gardner George Bumb Sr.'s loan-repayment demands came in July 1996, just as his oldest son and his wife were about to move to Los Gatos and break away from the family and its eastside enclave. Well, guess what? Eight days after the molestation incident was reported to police--and one day after Jeff Bumb formally refused his father's $6.9 million buyout offer--George Bumb Sr. sent Jeff a curt typewritten memo informing Jeff that he was terminated effective immediately and had to clean out his desk before 5pm. In fact, Tim and George had to agree not to collaborate with other Bumbs on any new business venture. Even though all the lights were out, she told police that she knew it was Matthew "because the moonlight shined into the room through the large windows that faced the ocean." VENZON WAS well known to the Bumbs. On Nov. 8, 1995, attorney Albin Danell, Elizabeth's brother-in-law, contacted the police, apparently after consulting with Elizabeth. Before the end of the month, the Flea Market laid off Jeff's daughters Anne and Rebecca. "We made it very clear to Jeff and everybody else concerned," Tim says, "that I'm not going to stick my neck on the line here. He also pulled off an armed robbery of the Aloha Roller Palace. Other allegations were more dubious: Investigators chased after a tip that the Bumbs were skimming cash from the Flea Market parking lot, an accusation that was never proven. The Bumbs had a plenty of experience with a cash business through the Flea Market, which they've run for almost 40 years. Over the years, he had developed working relationships with the city's politicians and bureaucrats. Christopher Gardner Almost four months later, on July 21, 1998, George Bumb Sr. appeared in the downtown offices of Berliner Cohen to have his deposition taken. "I'm a big boy." Preventive Medicine: George Bumb Jr. is a co-owner of Bay 101, where a snakebite kit is kept on-hand as a family joke. Even though all the lights were out, she told police that she knew it was Matthew "because the moonlight shined into the room through the large windows that faced the ocean." The state, still busy conducting background checks, still hadn't approved the Bumbs and their partners' gaming licenses. At one point in the investigation, sheriff's detectives had Jeff's daughter call Matthew while he was working at the Flea Market to confirm the sexual activities. But Jeff says the loan dispute screwed up their moving plans. After learning of the incident, Jeff and wife Elizabeth did not report the matter to police immediately. A nurse was present to monitor his condition. But Jeff Bumb would greatly prefer not to talk about this. And for nearly a month, they did. The teenagers had been drinking booze earlier in the night. The court saga evolved into a battle of wills between a father--a man who wouldn't even let the Vatican tell him what to do--and his oldest son, determined to break free from the old man's grasp. ON AUG. 11, 1995, Jeff sat in his Flea Market office scribbling on a piece of paper, plotting his grand return to his peach palace. During the Venzon investigation, San Jose police dug up an old file from November 1990 in which Venzon, a sheriff's deputy, had reported his department-issued Smith & Wesson 9 mm automatic stolen. In response to Jeff's legal attacks, George Bumb Sr. and Bumb & Associates filed two separate suits of their own to collect nearly $1 million in loans and interest they claimed Jeff never paid. According to Werner, molestation of his daughter became part of a laundry list of damning things Jeff threatened to disclose if his buy-out demands weren't met. "I don't need their help," he barked at Werner. Jeff signed a deal with his brothers that prohibited him from owning Bay 101 stock until he got all the necessary licenses. A nurse was present to monitor his condition. (In one case, George Bumb Sr. loaned Jeff $31,250 in 1992 for his son to invest in Bay 101.) EVERY DAY THE CLUB stayed closed, the Bumbs lost more money. During the Venzon investigation, San Jose police dug up an old file from November 1990 in which Venzon, a sheriff's deputy, had reported his department-issued Smith & Wesson 9 mm automatic stolen. Tim and George Jr. worried that pressuring state and city officials to deal Jeff back in at Bay 101 would backfire and authorities would close down the card room. Other allegations were more dubious: Investigators chased after a tip that the Bumbs were skimming cash from the Flea Market parking lot, an accusation that was never proven. Unlike other partners, neither Jeff nor Brian had buyback provisions in their written agreements, an intentional omission meant to appease state gaming officials who wanted them out of the picture. Tim and George Jr. worried that pressuring state and city officials to deal Jeff back in at Bay 101 would backfire and authorities would close down the card room. Toward the end of the call, things got heated. The couple even had a purchase contract for a $850,000 house on Golf Links Road. Soon after his confession, the word started spreading in the family about what happened. According to Jeff, there was tremendous pressure from his father and others in the family to keep the incest a secret. At one point in the investigation, sheriff's detectives had Jeff's daughter call Matthew while he was working at the Flea Market to confirm the sexual activities. Deputy chief Tom Wheatley says that police wondered if Venzon, or someone, destroyed the barrel to prevent a ballistics test from tracing a fired bullet to the gun. The elder Bumb may not have been feeling well, but he wasn't too sick to remember who was boss in this family. Eight months later, the frame of the weapon was found in a Salinas pond near Venzon's home with the barrel and slide missing. Christopher Gardner Bumb family attorney Ron Werner suggested that Jeff and his family had a hidden motive for waiting nearly a month to report the incident to police. And Jeff himself had been playing poker since he was 12. "Jeff is a wheeler and dealer," explained his Uncle John, the Flea Market's executive vice president and owner of the Skeeball Arcade. He also disputes that such a letter was even necessary for Jeff to get licensed. So Jeff, Brian and the remaining non-family partners backed out of Bay 101, handing everything over to Tim and George Jr. He demanded $10 million from his brothers to compensate him for violating the purported secret Bay 101 deal. When he was jailed, the desperate cop wrote a 15-page handwritten letter in pencil to George Bumb in May 1997 asking the Flea Market owner to bail him out. Tim and George Jr. would appeal and reapply, the hope being that the club would open as soon as possible. One month later, the state attorney general's office made a devastating announcement: Authorities had come across issues of "such magnitude" and "concern" that they would need at least another month to decide if gambling should be allowed at Bay 101. Within weeks, Jeff says, his six-month-old dog was dead, his cat was dead and the tires of a family car were slashed. He also runs day-to-day operations at the family-owned Flea Market. Werner said no. "They didn't teach anything about this. "Could he [Jeff] do any other work on his own behalf?" he asked. Don't Shoot: George Bumb Sr., the publicity-shy patriarch of the Bumb family and creator of the Flea Market, in a rare photo which appeared in California Today magazine in 1980. It's like we had no life except for the family." (In one case, George Bumb Sr. loaned Jeff $31,250 in 1992 for his son to invest in Bay 101.) At the time, Jeff was in the midst of negotiating an arrangement to be bought out of the family businesses. Along the way, Jeff raised the ante, hiring Frank Ubhaus, a lawyer who represented Garden City card club, Bay 101's crosstown rival. He chose the building's peachy-pink paint job, he says, because he wanted "a pleasant, welcoming earth tone." Jeff didn't mind, though.