Some Friend You Turned Out To Be…

By Marty Swirko

I have previously posted a story about this incident on this site a while back, but more recently I was thinking about my 13 year career in the convenience store industry which dated back to the spring of 1973. That year I first got hired as a part time relief manager at the Cumberland Farms store which back then was located in Quincy point, Massachusetts. By 1991, with a few breaks in between to sell soda, drive a taxi in Boston and go to Basic Training and Infantry School after I joined the US Army Reserve. I had worked my way up to Director of Security of a now defunct chain of Grocery stores known as Christy’s Markets. At the time, Christy’s had 150 store in four states. In 1991, I left that job to become a cop.

Recently, I was thinking back on those days, and I decoded I might write and post a few more stories about my time at Cumberland’s and even one two about my time at Christy’s. For some reason, I re-read this story, which I had posted on this site some time ago, and I decided to clean it up a bit, re-write it and post it again.

Previously I have written and posted two stories on this site of the first two armed robberies that I had become victim to at Cumberland’s, and for those of you who haven’t read them, I’ll tell you here that in both those cases, I was robbed by the same guy, and in both cases customers who were unfortunate enough to be in the store when those stick-ups occurred, they were taken hostage (two children in the first robbery and a 16 year old young lady during the second) at gunpoint while I complied with the robbers demands. As far as I know, no one was ever identified or charged for those robberies. So, what follows below is one of my older stories, cleaned up and re-posted for anyone who is interested, or anyone who may not have seen this original story back since I posted it. At some point, I’ll add some more accounts of my exploits while working in the local convenience stores to my tales about police work and my time in the military. Here it is…

As some of you who know me may know, I worked for a chain of convenience / dairy stores called Cumberland Farms for three years after I got out of high school. That would have been from 1973-1976. Cumberland’s, which still exists today up here in the Northeast had something like 1800 stores in New England / NY / NJ area and more in Florida at the time. Cumberland Farms itself, has a rather interesting history, but that was all before the company who currently owns the chain ran the chain.

I worked mostly in their older inner city Boston stores during my three years with them, occasionally working at saner and newer stores just outside of Boston. Sometime in 1974, I became the manager of store 3418, one of their stores located in the Roslindale neighborhood of Boston. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, a bit poor and definitely blue collar / working class area on the Southwest part of the city. The store was older, therefore had problems associated with its age and set up, but I think I enjoyed this store and that neighborhood more than any other I had worked at. And I worked at a lot of them. 

One problem I had to confront was that the convenience stores in the area, which became known as local Stop and Robs, were getting held up all the time, and my store was no exception. There were several other Cumberlands in the nearby area, as well as competitors such as White Hen Pantry and Li’L Peach stores. We were all regularly being clobbered with armed robberies. It was so bad that the manager of a nearby Cumberland Farms, also in Roslindale was shot and killed during a hold up on Christmas Eve Day, and I believe it was that same year. Also during that time period a customer in the Cumberland Farms in the nearby town of Dedham was shot dead during a hold up. He unknowingly walked into the store during a hold up with the intention to buy some model glue to use with his son on a model at home. Apparently the Dad surprised the robber when he walked in and the robber turned and shot the poor guy dead. Wrong place at the wrong time. As for me, by the time I was working in Roslindale, I was unfortunate veteran (or maybe survivor is a better word) of a few armed robberies by that time, including the two in Quincy Point. 

The Boston Police Department was under a lot of pressure to take action to curb these robberies. They came up with a plan. The old Tactical Patrol Force (TPF) was a special city-wide unit within the BPD. As their name infers, they were the department’s ass-kickers (at least in my opinion) and sent in to tackle problems and stop the bleeding (figuratively and literally) in high crime neighborhoods as well as the never ending civil unrest in the area due to things like the Vietnam War, riots following the murder of Martin Luther King and in the 70s forced bussing. Not long after this event, however, they were disbanded due their involvement in the raid of a certain bar in South Boston.

The TPF’s plan to combat the rash of stick ups that were occurring regularly and all over Roslindale and Hyde Park at the time was an alarm system. They selected convenience and Mom and Pop type stores in a fairly close, geographical area that had been targets of robberies. They placed the alarms in the stores at no charge, with the consent of the owners. I happily agreed to co-operate and I had permission from Cumberland Farms. The alarm had a clip which was placed into the $20.00 bill slot in the cash register, and a single dollar bill was placed into it. We would then place a $20.00 bill on top of it, hiding the clip from view. Once the hold up man ordered the clerk to give him the money, the clerk would empty each slot in the tray and when he pulled the bill out of the clip, the two metal clamps would make contact, which then sent a silent hold up alarm.

The alarm was transmitted out of the store electronically through a flat antenna, which was inconspicuously placed near the register on the wall. It was unremarkable and unnoticeable to even the most experienced stick up man. No buttons to press or step on. When the robber ordered you to give him the twenties, once you complied it set off the silent alarm. Remember, this was back in 1974, and police did things differently that we did during my time later as a cop.

What was unique about this alarm was that was tied into a mobile alarm console which was placed in the back seat of an unmarked TPF cruiser.  That cruiser was assigned to patrol the immediate area and respond directly to alarms when the received them. The alarm didn’t go to an alarm company, or to a police district. It went directly to well armed plainclothes officers that were usually nearby. And, we found out rather quickly, the alarms worked. So, in addition to the alarm in the unmarked cruiser, the cars themselves became virtual war wagons, with well armed policemen to confront and deal with these stick up artists on the scene, who were almost always armed and often violent. 

My store, on the corner of Hyde Park Ave and Mt. Hope St. was only open from 9AM-7PM. It was usually advisable to close up and get “out of Dodge” before dark in some of those Boston neighborhoods. My store also was getting stuck up regularly despite closing at 7PM, and was also getting robbed during the day as well as just prior to closing. I was personally present and held up four times in less than a year at that store. In addition to armed robberies, the store was regularly burglarized overnight despite the fact that we had iron gates in front of the windows and doors. The burglars would just bypass those entry points and enter through the roof and ceiling, causing significant damage well beyond the value of anything stolen by the perpetrators.  

After the alarm system was installed, and after all the employees were trained and familiarized with the BPD system, the robberies continued. During the first few robberies that occurred at my store, the alarm was activated successfully, but I found myself breathlessly waiting for the police to arrive only to have the robber make his getaway minutes before the first police unit made it to the scene. Sometimes alarms came in when the TPF car was just too far away. I had more than one conversation the frustrated plain clothes TPF cops who happened to be at the other end of their patrol area when my alarms came in. 

One night I was held up by a guy with a 45, and he introduced himself to me by announcing “Motherfucker, tonight you’re gonna to die. But first, put all the money into a bag”. I complied, and obviously the robber fled without killing me. (Whew, that was close I thought, as I wiped the sweat from my forehead) That .45 looked huge as I stared down the barrel that was pointed at my face from around six inches away. I had activated the alarm, but the robber made his getaway before the TPF guys arrived. They were pissed and I didn’t blame them. They told me that not five minute before they got my alarm that had slowly driven past my store, then decided to head down Hyde Park Ave towards Cleary Sq, and they were just too far away when the got the alarm. Geographically, Roslindale and Hyde Park were pretty large, so it wasn’t surprising that car may have been too far away when an alarm came in. 

Of course, in addition to responding themselves, they would radio in the alarm and  presumably other cars within the District (my store was located in the old BPD District 5 in Cleary Sq. at the time), but for whatever reason, for those alarms the TPF guys usually arrived first, but after the suspect made their getaway. 

However, as time went on, there were a few robberies at my store when the police they got alarms while they were nearby and they started to make a few on scene apprehensions. During the times I was robbed there, on two of those occasions the police made arrests on the spot. Those are all separate stories in themselves that I may still write about. But getting to my friend…

I grew up with a kid from my neighborhood named Mark. We were very close friends and when we were in 10th grade, he and his family moved to a quiet town south of Boston. However, we stayed good friends and he worked a full time job just north of Boston. I don’t remember which of us came up with this bright idea first, but, I had a need to hire a couple of part time people, including one I could trust to work a few evenings a week, as well as working on weekends. He would run the store, usually in my absence and often close and lock up. I got the brilliant idea that Mark might want a part time job. My store was sorta / kinda located between his job and his home, and anyway, driving from his job to his house during rush hour everyday was not fun, so the nights he worked at my store, he only had to drive half the distance, close the store at 7PM, and when he was done and rush hour was over, and he drove the rest of the way to his home without much traffic. What a match I thought! A dependable friend I could trust, and I could do something good for him with the job. A classic win-win situation, if there ever was one. As it turned out, maybe not so much for my childhood friend. 

Anyway, Mark agrees to go to work for me. He worked a few weeks, maybe even a month or two, I don’t remember how long. It was working out well, for me anyway, while it lasted.  

When Mark came to work for me I trained him and we already had the TPF alarm in place, and the possibility of becoming an armed robbery victim never really bothered Mark too much. That stuff always happens to other people, right? Looking back, I realize I should have told him it was likely that he would get robbed at the store, especially working nights in that neighborhood. I never lied to him, and I told him about some of my own exploits. Anyway, the possibility didn’t seem to bother him. 

Well, one evening, Mark was working, and sure enough some guy comes in, points a pistol in Mark’s face and tells him to give him the money. All the money. Mark complied and also gave him the $20.00 bill, which tripped the silent alarm. The guy took the money, and was gone in a matter of seconds. Typical convenience store robbery, if there is one. In and out, in seconds, unlike my first two robberies that had occurred in Quincy Point. That normally would have been the end of it, but not this night. 

Unknown to both the unfortunate robber and Mark, the TPF cruiser happened to be about a block away from the store, actually on Mt. Hope St. when they got the alarm. The robber fled the store, and turned left and then left again onto Mt. Hope Street. Mt. Hope Street was a narrow one way, going towards American Legion Highway and away from the store.The cops, I assume, decided it was easier to get out on foot and run so they jumped out of their car on foot, ran up Mt. Hope St. towards the store. The cops and the bad guy ran into each other close to the corner, outside the store and a pretty hefty shoot-out (according to Mark and the cops) occurred. Blam, Blam, Bang, Bang! Shotguns and pistols were unloaded. They were within feet of each other. Despite the proximity of the participants, surprisingly no one was hit! 

Meanwhile, Mark is inside the store while all this shooting is going on outside the door. Bullets flying and pinging around, around, cops and robber yelling, screaming, cursing, all while Mark dove face down onto the floor making himself as small as he possibly could. I’m not sure, but I think while Mark was ducking he was doing a bit of cussing himself, and he might have been cursing me as well.  

Suddenly, the shooting ended. Almost as quick as it started it was over. Final score, no hits, no casualties, one suspect under arrest who was pretty shaken up and amazed he was still alive. Too good for him, I thought. I got to talk to those cops a few times not long after, so between what they told me and what I learned from Mark, I feel I have a pretty accurate story about what happened that night. 

The arrest and experimental program was widely publicized in the days that followed. Later that week, the Mayor of Boston Kevin White and the then Police Commissioner Robert di Grazia held a press conference in my store and I met and chatted with both of them.  The Boston TV stations were all present, and I was interviewed along with the Mayor and Police Commissioner. I think the cops who made the arrest were also there. The interviews was on all the Boston stations that night. The only one not there was my friend, Mark. 

As far as Mark goes, considering the circumstances, he took it all in good stride and good humor, although you can be sure he wasn’t laughing at the time it happened. He told me the story that night, as he did several times to the police and company officials. But, in the end, Mark turned over the store keys to me and told me thanks for the job, but, no thanks. He valued his life a lot more that the $2.25 an hour or whatever it was in 1974 that we were paying  him. As he handed the store keys to me I saw that he had a strange smirk on his face. I imagine he was thinking, or maybe he even said it- “Some friend you turned out to be! Please don’t do me any more favors.” He left the store, but I stayed and I was in for many more adventures until I left Cumberland Farms for good in 1976.