Fitzsimmons's de facto leadership of the Teamsters
I Heard You Paint HousesFitz’s de facto leadership of the International Brotherhood of Teamsters began as a role designed to preserve James R. Hoffa’s authority, not replace it. Hoffa entered prison in 1967 while retaining the union presidency, but had installed Fitz in a newly empowered general vice presidency capable of running the organization in his absence. From Lewisburg, Hoffa continued to reach into union affairs; in practice, however, Fitz acted as president in dealings with people such as Frank Sheeran. The arrangement kept Hoffa’s claim to power intact even as the work and public face of leadership increasingly belonged to Fitz.
The succession arrangement
At the July 1966 convention in Miami Beach, Hoffa amended the union constitution to create the office of general vice president. The new officer would have the power necessary to run the union if the president went to jail, and Hoffa installed Fitz, whom he regarded as a controllable choice. The arrangement anticipated imprisonment without conceding that imprisonment would end Hoffa’s command.
Hoffa also secured financial and organizational protections at the convention. He raised his annual salary from $75,000 to $100,000 and made it payable even if he were imprisoned. Delegates approved payment of his past legal expenses, which then totaled $1,277,680, and of future legal costs as well. The provisions treated prison as an interruption to be managed, not a transfer of authority: Hoffa planned to remain president and continue directing the union while confined.
That ambition rested on an organization whose influence had grown through concrete gains. Hoffa had established the pension fund in 1955, giving covered truckers a retirement resource beyond Social Security. In 1963 he completed the National Master Freight Agreement, securing an initial raise of 45 cents an hour and increases in pensions. He then placed Sheeran on the union’s National Negotiating Committee. The national contract replaced separate negotiations with a single agreement and made a nationwide strike a credible possibility, even though Hoffa never had to call one. These achievements supplied the institutional power that both the prison succession plan and the later contest over leadership sought to preserve or control.
Power exercised from prison
Hoffa entered the Federal Correctional Institution, Lewisburg, on March 7, 1967, but the succession machinery did not make him inaccessible. Prison rules limited nonlawyer visits to three hours a month, restricted visitors to family members, barred phone calls, and limited correspondence to seven relatives and lawyers; letters were screened. Union officers could neither visit nor write to him. His son, James P. Hoffa, could visit more often because he was a union lawyer, and lawyers working on active cases were not subject to the same limits.
Hoffa also used Sheeran’s visits to keep business moving. Young inmates could be introduced to Sheeran through supposed job interviews, while Hoffa consulted with lawyers at a nearby table. Sheeran described using a pull on his shirt as a signal for the young man to leave so he and Hoffa could discuss business in the prison’s “buck house.” The account shows a formal restriction being worked around through a personal signal, a cooperative guard, and the cover of ordinary visitation.
Their contact was not always strictly business. Sheeran sometimes gave Hoffa his meatballs at Wednesday lunch, and some visits were social. But appeals, parole strategy, and efforts to secure a pardon remained pressing subjects. Lawyers carried messages between Hoffa, union figures, and mob figures; money was being directed toward Attorney General John Mitchell in hopes of obtaining parole or a pardon. Hoffa complained that Fitz might not be acting aggressively enough to help him, though at first he did not interpret this as betrayal. The continuing flow of visits and messages allowed Hoffa to retain influence, while also revealing his dependence on people operating outside the prison walls.
De facto leadership and growing strain
Sheeran’s retrospective account captures the gap between the constitutional arrangement and its everyday appearance. He later acknowledged that he had not understood that Hoffa remained union president after entering prison. Fitz had both the general vice presidency and the practical authority Sheeran encountered; in Sheeran’s dealings, Fitz acted like the president. Sheeran even believed Fitz was president when he sent him to Spring Garden Street on a shootout-related assignment. His recollection is significant precisely because it records how easily operational authority could be mistaken for formal office.
For Hoffa, confinement meant trying to rule through those remaining channels. Sheeran compared him to a zoo tiger pacing back and forth in its cage. The image marks the limit of the succession plan: Hoffa had arranged to retain power, but prison restricted his access to people and reduced his ability to act directly. Fitz, meanwhile, accumulated the practical visibility of leadership. The distinction between Hoffa’s continuing title and Fitz’s day-to-day role was not merely constitutional; it was increasingly legible to the people who worked with them.
The tension became explicit in early 1971. Fitz announced that he would run for president if Hoffa failed to make parole in March. Hoffa was still entitled to run from prison: his convictions were not among the offenses that disqualified a person from union office under the Landrum-Griffin Act, and he still held several union positions, including the presidency. Fitz’s conditional candidacy therefore challenged Hoffa’s expected return without relying on a settled legal transfer. Fitz sought a conditional endorsement from the executive board, but the board refused to endorse him, even on that basis.
From acting authority to succession
Hoffa did not make parole in March 1971. After Audie Murphy died in a plane crash on May 28 while surveying a business deal involving Hoffa’s forces, Fitz appeared at a press conference with the younger James P. Hoffa. Six days after the crash, he announced that Hoffa had written to say he would not seek reelection and endorsed Fitz, his old friend from Teamsters Local 299 in Detroit, for the union presidency.
On June 21, at an executive-board meeting in Miami, Fitz announced that Hoffa had resigned as president and that he had been appointed acting president until the convention. President Richard Nixon entered the room and sat beside Fitz as newspaper photographers took pictures. Two days later, James P. Hoffa told the board that his father had resigned from the presidency and several other union offices, and requested a new parole hearing. The explanation offered for Hoffa’s future was that he would live on his pension and lecture and teach. The public sequence turned a long-standing practical arrangement into an announced succession, while presenting Hoffa’s withdrawal as voluntary.
Sheeran’s later admission that he had misunderstood who formally held the presidency complicates any simple account of Fitz’s ascent. Hoffa had created the office and placed Fitz in it as a means of preserving his own rule; prison restrictions nevertheless made Fitz the visible, working leader, and by 1971 Fitz was openly positioning himself to remain in power. Hoffa’s endorsement and resignation then supplied a formal bridge to that outcome. The episode’s central tension is between an office designed to serve an absent president and the independent authority that its holder could acquire by exercising it.
