The Latin Casino was a nightclub in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, remembered both as an entertainment venue and as a place where labor power became public theater. Jimmy Hoffa’s supporters celebrated his sixtieth birthday there in February 1973; about a year later, the club hosted Frank Sheeran Appreciation Night. In both scenes, the room’s social arrangements mattered: who attended, who sat together, who was honored onstage, and who could get through the door all made visible the alliances surrounding Sheeran and Hoffa.

A nightclub and a recurring venue

Sheeran recalled the Latin as the only nightclub in the area and as a familiar Sunday-night destination from earlier days, when he went there with Skinny Razor and the downtown crowd. Frank Sinatra had performed there regularly, and its roster over the years included Al Martino, Dean Martin, and Liberace. The club’s association with performers also shaped its later celebrations: a banquet there could resemble an entertainment spectacle as much as a union gathering.

That history gave the venue a personal dimension for Sheeran. He noted that his own appreciation night took place at the same club as Hoffa’s birthday dinner, making the second event a return to a setting already marked by their friendship and by the public display of Hoffa’s supporters. The Latin Casino was therefore not simply a backdrop. It was a venue where Sheeran’s account repeatedly joined his private ties to Hoffa with the visible ceremonies of labor life.

Hoffa’s birthday testimonial

In February 1973, supporters held a testimonial dinner at the Latin Casino for Hoffa’s sixtieth birthday. The turnout was strong even though Fitz had discouraged attendance. Harold Gibbons was the only member of the executive board to appear. A professional photographer recorded the occasion, and Hoffa asked Sheeran to pose with him in several pictures, including one showing them shaking hands. Sheeran later said he continued to prize that photograph.

The event’s attendance gave the room political meaning: the guests’ presence registered support for Hoffa despite Fitz’s opposition. The photographs turned that support into a record, and Hoffa’s request that Sheeran stand beside him placed their friendship within the ceremony. The same venue would provide another, larger public measure of Sheeran’s standing the following year.

Sheeran Appreciation Night

For Sheeran’s appreciation night, John McCullough of the roofers’ union organized a banquet that drew 3,000 people. Guests could choose prime rib or lobster, with an open bar. They included representatives of different union locals, Sheeran’s former war comrades, and people from management. John Greely, president of Local 676, presented Sheeran with a plaque naming him Teamsters Man of the Year. McCullough announced the prominent guests in the room and even pointed out Federal Bureau of Investigation agents outside among the trees, watching with binoculars.

Admission was tightly controlled. A ticket did not guarantee entry: guests had to know someone inside, or their money would be refunded and their tickets confiscated. That rule made personal connections part of the event’s practical structure, not merely its atmosphere. The banquet presented itself as a large public celebration, yet access still depended on recognition and relationships.

Hoffa was the featured speaker. He praised Sheeran’s work for working men and women in Pennsylvania and Delaware, then presented him with a solid-gold watch set with diamonds. Looking around the dais, he remarked, “I had no idea you were this strong.” The dais included Mayor Frank Rizzo, Cecil B. Moore, head of the Philadelphia NAACP, and former district attorney Emmett Fitzpatrick, alongside labor and political dignitaries. The honor thus placed Sheeran before an audience extending beyond his own union circle.

Sheeran’s family occupied the front table. His wife, Irene, sat with their four daughters: Connie, eleven; Dolores, nineteen; Peggy, twenty-six; and Mary Ann, twenty-eight. Hoffa called Irene onto the stage and gave her a dozen roses. She was embarrassed and initially reluctant, but he kept coaxing until she came forward. The gesture brought the family into the public ceremony, turning an occasion centered on Sheeran’s union standing into a moment of domestic recognition as well.

Performance, alliance, and promise

Russell Bufalino had a separate table to the right of the family’s. His wife, Carrie, was the only woman seated there, alongside Dave Osticco, Guf Guarnieri, Angelo Bruno, and members of Bruno’s circle. People from downtown occupied another table. These arrangements placed union guests, political figures, Sheeran’s family, and crime-family associates within one crowded venue, while the separate tables preserved visible distinctions among the groups.

Entertainment reinforced the nightclub’s festive character. Singer Jerry Vale performed Italian songs including “Sorrento” and “Volare,” then Irish songs McCullough had requested, and finally “Spanish Eyes,” a favorite of Sheeran and Russell Bufalino. The Golddigger Dancers also performed. Guests teased Sheeran about joining them onstage; the room was so packed that there was no dance floor, and he said he would otherwise have danced with his daughters. The detail balances the show’s staged glamour with the family affection at the center of his recollection.

During photographs that night, Hoffa told Sheeran, “I truly had no idea you were this strong, my friend. I really appreciate all the support you have given me over these years. I’m glad you’re on my side. Frank, when I get back in, you’re going right along with me. I need you around me. If you’ll take the job I’m going to make you an International organizer with an unlimited expense account.” Sheeran answered that serving as an international organizer would be an honor and his dream come true. After McCullough arranged limousines to take Sheeran’s family home, Sheeran drove Hoffa back to the Warwick Hotel rather than let him return alone. He recalled that the important conversations had taken place the previous night, leaving this ride as a quiet close to an evening of public honors and explicit promises.