The Rockland County Sewer of Corruption: Local History Like You Never Heard It

One evening in late July of 1968 I ran into Rick and Doc at the Nanuet Mall. The three of us had been best friends in high school. Nearly inseparable. But I had been away at college and had not seen them in the previous six months. When I asked what they were doing, Rick's face took on a proud glow.

“We're working on the Rockland County sewer project. We’re inspectors for a company called Bowe Walsh. It’s an unbelievable setup. I'm making more than fifteen bucks an hour. Last week I even got a brand new Triumph Bonneville motorcycle,” he said. “If you want to work with us I can get you in. Just call me or stop by and I'll explain the angle.”

Rick always had an angle. He was not book smart. But he had an inherent ability to pick out the weaknesses in any organizational framework. As a sophomore at Nyack High School he had realized there was a flaw in the way classroom attendance was reported and had successfully devised a system whereby the three of us and our various girlfriends were able to leave school at noon and “cut” the rest of our classes without any risk of getting caught. Fifteen dollars an hour worked out to around thirty thousand a year. Ungodly money for a 19 year old in those days and probably equal to $150,000 a year today. After dinner the next day I went to Rick's house.

He explained that the county had given Bowe Walsh a contract to build a brand new sewer system. They were hiring large numbers of people to do all sorts of work. But Inspector was the job to get. The position did not require any hard work. It basically involved just standing around and watching what the subcontractors were doing and filling out some forms. The pay was about fifty cents an hour above minimum wage to start but if you played your cards right the salary could go very high, very quickly. The only catch was that although being an inspector actually only required basic communication skills, the company favored people who were interested in and had shown some aptitude for, civil engineering. Qualifications which might best be demonstrated by a year or two of college study in the field.

Neither Rick nor Doc had attended college. So they’d simply made up the desired educational background. I had actually been going to a fairly well respected school. But it was not known for engineering. So I too embellished my resume. Several days later as my interview at Bowe Walsh came to an end, I smiled and nodded when the personnel guy looked directly at me and said, “Yes, since you’ve studied engineering at RPI you'll fit right in as an Inspector.”

In order to learn the responsibilities of the job I was assigned to work with Rick for the first week. And the experience turned out to be truly educational. It began on a very hot Monday in early August. After punching in we took a leisurely breakfast at Hogan’s diner, then Rick started driving Doc and I towards the jobsite. But long before we reached the work area he turned onto a side street in West Nyack and stopped. Doc jumped out. “See you at four,” he said.

As we started to pull away I noticed Doc’s clipboard and blueprints on the seat of the car and shouted for Rick to stop. But he just laughed and kept driving. “Hey. Come on,” he said.” its Doc.”

Doc had earned his nickname when at the age of six he was given a children's “Doctor’s Kit”. He had set up an “Office” in his garage then somehow convinced most of the six and seven year old girls in his neighborhood to come over for a “Check Up”. Then follow up examinations. And after that additional treatments. His medical practice continued several days a week for almost an entire summer before one of the girl’s mothers discovered what had been going on and his toy stethoscope and syringe were taken away.

By the time he reached high school Doc’s ability to attract interactions with females was astounding. None of the guys who knew him understood it. He was only about five foot four, had big bug like eyes and came closer to resembling a frog than a movie star. He was not rich, a brilliant intellect, a skilled athlete or a sensitive poetic type. But for some reason good looking girls threw themselves at him. One after another.

Doc may have been employed by Bowe Walsh as an Inspector but he was not actually doing any work for them. Each morning after they punched in, Rick dropped him off so he could visit with girls who lived in the area. And it seemed that no matter where in the county they were working, Doc was on intimate terms with at least several females in the immediate vicinity. Rick did Doc's inspections, filled out the paperwork and at the end of the day picked him up. Doc then signed off on everything before punching out.

“The first thing you have to understand, “Rick said, as we drove along, “is that everyone involved in this project is a criminal.”

He explained that Bowe Walsh was constantly trying to cheat the subcontractors. And that part of the job of the inspector was to create situations whereby the company would be able to penalize them for delays. But not to worry. The subcontractors understood the nature of the position. And they would not be upset with us because we'd be giving them “extra gravel”.

The sewer pipes were laid in deep trenches on a bed of gravel which was usually about two feet in depth. The gravel served as a cushion and prevented the pipes from breaking when they went through freeze - thaw cycles and when the water table rose and fell. Sometimes though, the ground conditions required that the trench be dug deeper and a foot or two of additional gravel be placed beneath the pipe to protect it. When these areas were encountered the subcontractors received additional payments. And because it was assumed that the conditions which required the extra gravel would result in more difficult digging, payments for such additional work were calculated at rates far above those for normal pipe laying.

The primary responsibility of an inspector was to examine the trench, locate and mark the areas which needed additional gravel, then stand by and make sure the subcontractor had actually installed the correct amounts of gravel before the pipes were lowered into position. And since the pipes were covered over very shortly after they were placed in the trench, it was a responsibility which did not allow oversight.

Early on one of the other inspectors had suggested to Rick that the subcontractors were very grateful if every now and then a small area which did not actually need additional gravel was marked as an extra gravel area. When Rick certified a few such sections he discovered they were indeed appreciative. To the tune of one to two hundred dollars in cash each time he did so. In fact, he discovered that when he gave multiple instances of unnecessary extra gravel during a particular week, he usually received in addition to the money, some sort of gratuity. Like a brand new Triumph Bonneville motorcycle. Rick did not consider his activities in any way dishonest. Because the subcontractors were in fact putting in the unnecessary extra gravel and the pipes were thus cushioned more than they might otherwise have been, he believed that his actions were actually making the sewer system better.

As we punched in the morning I was to start inspecting on my own, Rick gave me a stern warning. “Don’t go crazy and start certifying entire runs for extra gravel,” he said. ”you’ll create problems. A little here and there and nothing can go wrong.”

I was not entirely convinced that nothing could wrong. In fact I had not been sleeping at all well. As much as I believed that returning to college with several thousand in cash and a brand new motorcycle might improve the experience of my sophomore year, I was also convinced the possibility of everyone being led away in handcuffs was very real. Fortunately, my moral mettle was never brought to the test. At the same time Bowe Walsh was building the Rockland County sewer system they were also engaged in similar work in Parsippany, NJ. I wound up getting assigned to the Parsippany site where my responsibilities were limited to inspecting the manholes of completed work which had already been buried. Consequently, I never got the opportunity to engage in any questionable activity. In the end I was employed by Bowe Walsh only three and one half weeks before happily leaving the sewer of corruption behind and going back to school.

When I returned to home that Thanksgiving, I got together with Rick. He was driving a beautiful, brand new, cherry red Jaguar XKE convertible. A gift he said, from a grateful subcontractor. In mid September Doc had left Nyack and moved to Florida. But as far as Bowe Walsh knew he was still working for them. Rick was punching him in and out each day, and continuing to inspect the trenches which had been assigned to Doc.

When nobody at the company noticed the absence, Rick had decided to try an experiment. He did exactly what he had warned me against. He certified every single bit of pipe he was inspecting in Doc’s name as requiring two feet of extra gravel. When there were no repercussions Rick realized that either the company was not paying any attention to what the inspectors were doing or they didn’t care. So he also began certifying all of the areas which were actually assigned to him for extra gravel. The subcontractors were of course, very, very appreciative.

The business of making the blanket certifications was so successful that within six weeks of beginning the practice Rick had a suitcase full of cash hidden under his bed. He had also come see working at Bowe Walsh as a pointless waste of time and had decided to retire. At first it seemed bizarre to be sitting with a 20 year old who was discussing retirement options in the manner of someone over 60. But as I thought about it I realized it made sense. Rick had been working the angles and pulling off hustles for as long as I had known him. But before the sewer project they had been directed towards avoidance – of school, of work, of responsibility – rather than acquisition. He had never really desired money or expensive possessions. His goal had always been to remove himself from the system. To drop out of the 9 to 5 world. And he had reached the point where that was possible.

Shortly after our conversation Rick quit Bowe Walsh and bought a small cottage at the beach. For the next 44 years he lived simply but very happily, sleeping late each day, watching sports on TV, riding his motorcycle, fishing and swimming in the sea. And not working.

Doc never returned to Nyack. Nine years after working on the sewer he was killed in a traffic accident. Rick rode his motorcycle to Florida for the funeral. He said that almost all the mourners were women.

In 1981, Charles T. Walsh, the owner of Bowe Walsh was convicted of extortion and racketeering in connection with the sewer project. According to court records he had made extraordinarily lavish payments to elected officials of Rockland County in order to insure the construction went smoothly. He was sentenced to 12 years in prison and had to pay a fine.

Although they had received millions of dollars in bribes, none of the Rockland officials involved were ever charged with a crime.

Here is a link to the Federal Appellate Court decision denying Walsh’s appeal of his sentence.