Without a doubt, one of the most famous bikers in Hawaii, and the most unforgettable characters of my life, is Tiger.
Tiger has lied about is age so many times I don’t think he knows how old he is.
Tiger far surpassed me as a storyteller, at least in his younger days.
The biggest thing about Tiger’s stories, you never knew which ones were true and which ones he might have made up. The disbelievers usually found out by calling his bluff, only to find out they’d picked one he could prove. Over the years I’ve seen several young bikers eat their words by calling bullshit on his story, only to have him drop the evidence in their lap.
I first saw Tiger as a rookie cop and he was pointed out to me as a member of one of our local organized crime “families”. We followed him around while he picked up bet money, payoffs, and vig payments.
Over the years we’d run into each other at parties, runs and rallies and always maintained a friendly relationship. I never tried to hide who and what I was, and he never tried let it bother him. We both had a job to do so it was never personal.
That almost blew-up in 1980, during my “suspension” after internal complaint. I was a bartender at Hummers Downtown Saloon. I also cleaned up every morning so I in the bar by 7:00am or 7:30am every morning.
There was no big mystery; everyone knew where I worked, so it was no surprise when one morning I get a telephone call from an “Intelligence” detective I knew.
This detective and I were not really friends, but we’d always been straight with each other, or so I thought, so I didn’t question his information when he called me, at the bar, early one morning.
He asked me if I still “saw” Tiger around. I wasn’t riding then, but still made parties and whatnot, so I told him yeah. I still saw him.
“Then you should try to see him real soon”, my detective “Friend” says. “We just intercepted a call and somebody has a contract to whack (kill) him.”
I asked if it was for real and he tells me it was from an FBI phone tap. I thanked him and said I’d see what I could do.
As soon as I hung up, I “reached out” for Tiger. Within a half hour he returned my call and I told him what was happening. He was of course, upset and seemed to know something about what was going on. We hung up, and I didn’t hear anything further.
I didn’t hear anything from the detective or Tiger, so imagine my surprise when 2 weeks later at a party, Tiger jumped in my face and in no uncertain terms told me what a jack-ass I was for calling him about a make believe “hit”. Huh?
After he calmed down, we compared notes and figured out my “buddy” had made the call just to see which way Tiger and I would jump.
If I hadn’t called Tiger or if Tiger didn’t react he’d have assumed my word didn’t carry much weight in the biker community.
Since Tiger must have done something, which would account for him being so pissed off, the detective would assume he could now plant false information with me and it would be “put out” to the biker community.
What that detective didn’t count on, was Tiger having his own sources and my word carried enough weight. It never occurred to him that Tiger would still respect and talk to me after discovering the information was false.
The detective called me several times after that, with “information”. He then left the police department and went to work for the State Attorney General. I never related another piece of his information to anyone.
Tiger and I remain friends and brothers to this day. He has shown me respect by allowing me to one of the speakers at his “birthday” party years ago. It was an honor.
That party was another “Got ya” for Tiger as it featured a video-taped greeting from G. Gordon Liddy. ( Google him)Liddy related a story of him and Tiger at Marion Federal Prison. Another story some people didn’t believe, until “the G-man” backed it up.
Tiger strikes again.