Great Moments in Guilty Consciences

It's never too late to do the right thing:

Bob Natiello, who grew up in the Crown Heights section of Brooklyn, is a retired New York advertising executive living in Sedona, Ariz. But in a letter to me not long ago, he pleaded guilty to his life of crime as a turnstile boy at Ebbets Field in 1944, when a seventh-place Dodgers team played there. Instead of turning over his confession to the authorities, I’m reprinting much of it here, with his permission, as a lesson to anyone who may be tempted to betray an employer . . .

. . . “When we close the gate, the ticket taker says: ‘Meet me by the hot dog stand under the third-base ramp in half an hour.’ I don’t think twice about accepting the folded bills he hands me. ‘This is your share. Don’t let on where you got it.’ It’s clear now: the ticket-seller resold the retained tickets and pocketed the money. I’m happy to pick up an extra three dollars” . . .

. . . “I’ve discovered, that there is no statute of limitations on conscience,” Natiello wrote. “To ease mine, the enclosed $100 check, payable to the Los Angeles Dodgers, should wipe the slate clean. It includes a reasonable amount to cover six decades of accrued interest. I hope it’s enough to atone for the $6 larceny that took place over 60 years ago.”

Unfortunately it didn't atone. To the contrary, the Dodgers have exploited a little known loophole in the statute of limitations, have pressed criminal charges against him, and are suing him for fraud and conversion.

True story.