attorney Frank Ubhaus asked the Bumb patriarch. Tim now runs Bay 101, which he says is no easy task. According to Werner, molestation of his daughter became part of a laundry list of damning things Jeff threatened to disclose if his buy-out demands weren't met. He was also the kind of guy, police records reveal, who told his mother about the incidents "because he felt guilty." EIGHT MONTHS AFTER its approval by the City Council, the peach-colored Bay 101 held its "grand opening." A nurse was present to monitor his condition. Ultimately, Jeff says with resignation, he hopes I find the truth, "not my truth, not their truth, just the truth." Privacy hasn't been so easy to come by for the Bumbs in the '90s, since they got involved in Bay 101. Ultimately, the charges against the older Bumb were reduced to a misdemeanor. You know the school we went to?" She recalled that she was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt covered by a blanket. Realizing that, Jeff offered to pay higher card-room taxes (next year the city expects to collect $4.5 million from Bay 101) and pick up the tab for security. And then police remembered the old rumors about a murder plot at the Flea Market, where Venzon had worked as a security guard for more than 15 years. After learning of the incident, Jeff and wife Elizabeth did not report the matter to police immediately. Originally he was scheduled for questioning on March 10, 1997, but the old man's lawyers explained that their client was extremely ill, suffering from "severe life-threatening conditions," practically on his death bed. Christopher Gardner Along the way, Jeff raised the ante, hiring Frank Ubhaus, a lawyer who represented Garden City card club, Bay 101's crosstown rival. ALL TOGETHER, the intrafamily litigation has spanned nearly three years. About 20 percent of the 130 students there are Bumb relatives.) The gambling palace Jeff Bumb--the oldest son who is often described as the most entrepreneurial of the four brothers--had in mind was going to take a lot of effort and political skill. Meanwhile, Jeff and his lawyers spent 15 months trying get his father to appear at a deposition. He also disputes that such a letter was even necessary for Jeff to get licensed. Or at least he thought he didn't. (In one case, George Bumb Sr. loaned Jeff $31,250 in 1992 for his son to invest in Bay 101.) Seven of George Bumb Sr.'s eight grown children reside in the eastside foothills within a mile or two of their father, often on the same block. Originally he was scheduled for questioning on March 10, 1997, but the old man's lawyers explained that their client was extremely ill, suffering from "severe life-threatening conditions," practically on his death bed. she said, referring to the family-run Catholic school at the Flea Market. Initially, police filed felony charges against Matthew Bumb for having oral sex with a minor and penetrating her with his fingers. On Nov. 8, 1995, attorney Albin Danell, Elizabeth's brother-in-law, contacted the police, apparently after consulting with Elizabeth. "I don't need their help," he barked at Werner. (In one case, George Bumb Sr. loaned Jeff $31,250 in 1992 for his son to invest in Bay 101.) Well, guess what? But Jeff says the loan dispute screwed up their moving plans. The court saga evolved into a battle of wills between a father--a man who wouldn't even let the Vatican tell him what to do--and his oldest son, determined to break free from the old man's grasp. Jeff signed a deal with his brothers that prohibited him from owning Bay 101 stock until he got all the necessary licenses. In fact, on the day he was arrested, records show that Venzon pawned a 14-karat-gold diamond cluster ring and a ladies' gold tennis bracelet for a total of $298 at American Precious Metals, a jewelry store at the Flea Market run by Joseph Bumb. "I liked my name," he maintains. His crimes included taking valuables from the bereaved family members of dead crime victims while pretending to console them. Dealers stood at the tables, ready to deal the cards. He also disputes that such a letter was even necessary for Jeff to get licensed. Meanwhile, Jeff and his lawyers spent 15 months trying get his father to appear at a deposition. Within weeks, Jeff says, his six-month-old dog was dead, his cat was dead and the tires of a family car were slashed. Meanwhile, Jeff and his lawyers spent 15 months trying get his father to appear at a deposition. At the time, Jeff was in the midst of negotiating an arrangement to be bought out of the family businesses. Bumb family attorney Ron Werner suggested that Jeff and his family had a hidden motive for waiting nearly a month to report the incident to police. The court saga evolved into a battle of wills between a father--a man who wouldn't even let the Vatican tell him what to do--and his oldest son, determined to break free from the old man's grasp. At one point in the investigation, sheriff's detectives had Jeff's daughter call Matthew while he was working at the Flea Market to confirm the sexual activities. Police reports would suggest she had, "for about a year," been giving "blow jobs" to 19-year-old Matthew Bumb, son of George Bumb Jr. Meanwhile, Jeff and his lawyers spent 15 months trying get his father to appear at a deposition. It wasn't the money, either. And it was very explicit in there that no Bumbs could have anything to do with the club. "My issue with [George Bumb Sr.]," Jeff Bumb complains about his father, "was his control of where you lived, what kind of house you bought, where your children went to school, who your friends are, whether your children went to college, who they would marry, what kind of wedding they would have." The elder Bumb may not have been feeling well, but he wasn't too sick to remember who was boss in this family. "And I told you that I loved you and you are like a father to me. So Jeff, Brian and the remaining non-family partners backed out of Bay 101, handing everything over to Tim and George Jr. The couple even had a purchase contract for a $850,000 house on Golf Links Road. Christopher Gardner He demanded $10 million from his brothers to compensate him for violating the purported secret Bay 101 deal. Bumb family attorney Ron Werner suggested that Jeff and his family had a hidden motive for waiting nearly a month to report the incident to police. And he [Jeff] wants me to violate the condition which says in it that I sign away my rights and they close us down. In her 10 years as the Flea Market's community relations specialist, Bryant has come to adore the lack of pretension among this clan of millionaires who have their offices in a mobile home where none of the furniture seems to match. Over the past year alone, Bumb & Associates and Bay 101 have given $56,000 to now-Attorney General Bill Lockyer, the man in charge of card-room regulation. He also disputes that such a letter was even necessary for Jeff to get licensed. Jeff Bumb says he believes that state and local investigators at the time of Bay 101's limbo were investigating a rumor that Jeff had tried to get someone killed, a charge Jeff denies. Jeff tells the story differently: "Matthew was my godson. Tim and George Jr. would appeal and reapply, the hope being that the club would open as soon as possible. He followed that with suits alleging breach of contract, wrongful termination and misrepresentation. When Jeff and Brian were denied licenses for Bay 101, Tim (above) and brother George Jr. jumped in. And it was very explicit in there that no Bumbs could have anything to do with the club. "And when I visited you at your home I told you that other than God you are the only person I've gotten down on my knees for," Venzon says on page 7. He was also the kind of guy, police records reveal, who told his mother about the incidents "because he felt guilty." "Jeff is a wheeler and dealer," explained his Uncle John, the Flea Market's executive vice president and owner of the Skeeball Arcade. Earlier this year, a month before Venzon was sentenced to 14 years in prison, district attorney investigator Michael Schembri closed out the Venzon case, noting in a court filing, "No new information has been uncovered relating to the murder for hire case [at the Flea Market] which our department investigated several years ago." Dealers stood at the tables, ready to deal the cards. Some improprieties did turn up: Bumb & Associates, a partnership including the four brothers and their father, had failed to file required reports disclosing more than $100,000 in political contributions made between 1989 and 1992. Jeff was also getting word from his nieces and nephews that his father said at a family poker game: "If it was up to him, all the grandchildren would marry each other." Tim and George, under pressure from then Police Chief Lou Cobarruviaz, had already signed an agreement a year earlier that prohibited Brian, Jeff and their father from having anything to do with the card room. He asked longtime family attorney Ron Werner if his brothers could write a recommendation letter for him, something state officials had told him he would need to be considered eligible for a gaming license. Almost four months later, on July 21, 1998, George Bumb Sr. appeared in the downtown offices of Berliner Cohen to have his deposition taken. The court saga evolved into a battle of wills between a father--a man who wouldn't even let the Vatican tell him what to do--and his oldest son, determined to break free from the old man's grasp. "Hell, no," George Bumb replied. Deputy chief Tom Wheatley says that police wondered if Venzon, or someone, destroyed the barrel to prevent a ballistics test from tracing a fired bullet to the gun. Werner said no. In fact, Tim and George had to agree not to collaborate with other Bumbs on any new business venture. In fact, on the day he was arrested, records show that Venzon pawned a 14-karat-gold diamond cluster ring and a ladies' gold tennis bracelet for a total of $298 at American Precious Metals, a jewelry store at the Flea Market run by Joseph Bumb. According to Jeff, there was tremendous pressure from his father and others in the family to keep the incest a secret. Matthew is the kind of guy a relative described to police as "polite," the guy parents wanted their daughters to date. And as with any divorce, embarrassing private details about the family and its businesses made their way into the public record. The court saga evolved into a battle of wills between a father--a man who wouldn't even let the Vatican tell him what to do--and his oldest son, determined to break free from the old man's grasp. Tim and George Jr. worried that pressuring state and city officials to deal Jeff back in at Bay 101 would backfire and authorities would close down the card room. At the time, Jeff was in the midst of negotiating an arrangement to be bought out of the family businesses. (In one case, George Bumb Sr. loaned Jeff $31,250 in 1992 for his son to invest in Bay 101.) And then, just when it seemed as though family relations couldn't get any worse, they did. The couple even had a purchase contract for a $850,000 house on Golf Links Road. Life of Brian: Initially denied a gaming license by the state, Brian Bumb has since received a provisional license and become a partner in Bay 101 with his brothers, Tim and George. "And when I visited you at your home I told you that other than God you are the only person I've gotten down on my knees for," Venzon says on page 7. First, Jeff tried to have the Bumb & Associates partnership dissolved after accusing his family of trying to force him out without paying him a fair price. As a compromise of sorts, he was debating whether he should apply for a license as a gaming-club manager instead of as an owner. Jeff Bumb says he believes that state and local investigators at the time of Bay 101's limbo were investigating a rumor that Jeff had tried to get someone killed, a charge Jeff denies. EVERY DAY THE CLUB stayed closed, the Bumbs lost more money. And for nearly a month, they did. Unlike other partners, neither Jeff nor Brian had buyback provisions in their written agreements, an intentional omission meant to appease state gaming officials who wanted them out of the picture. Ultimately, the charges against the older Bumb were reduced to a misdemeanor. The couple even had a purchase contract for a $850,000 house on Golf Links Road. The guy doesn't get a slap on the hand." George Bumb Sr.'s loan-repayment demands came in July 1996, just as his oldest son and his wife were about to move to Los Gatos and break away from the family and its eastside enclave. "They didn't teach anything about this. "Could he [Jeff] do any other work on his own behalf?" George Bumb Sr., an avid card player, held a regular weekly family poker game at his home. Tim and George Jr. worried that pressuring state and city officials to deal Jeff back in at Bay 101 would backfire and authorities would close down the card room. The teenagers had been drinking booze earlier in the night. OK--we didn't get out--OK? Just so everyone got the point, Jeff Bumb announced to the press that he and Brian were divesting from Bay 101, and records show he eventually sold his shares for $1.4 million. Matthew is the kind of guy a relative described to police as "polite," the guy parents wanted their daughters to date. In a fit, he took the paper he was writing on, crumpled it up and threw it out the office door. But Jeff and his family started hearing that instead of showing concern and support for his daughter, George Bumb Sr. and others in the family were blaming his freshman daughter for the incident and not her adult-age cousin. In a statement to police, Jeff's daughter recounted how the first incident had happened the year before on the Fourth of July at a family beach house near Santa Cruz when the older boy allegedly started fondling her while she was asleep on the living room couch. It's like we had no life except for the family." Christopher Gardner "I'm a big boy." He and his brothers had a plan, he says. The card club has done more than bring unwanted public scrutiny to this insular group. Tim and George, under pressure from then Police Chief Lou Cobarruviaz, had already signed an agreement a year earlier that prohibited Brian, Jeff and their father from having anything to do with the card room. First, Jeff tried to have the Bumb & Associates partnership dissolved after accusing his family of trying to force him out without paying him a fair price. Tim and George Jr. would appeal and reapply, the hope being that the club would open as soon as possible. Earlier this year, a month before Venzon was sentenced to 14 years in prison, district attorney investigator Michael Schembri closed out the Venzon case, noting in a court filing, "No new information has been uncovered relating to the murder for hire case [at the Flea Market] which our department investigated several years ago." OK--we didn't get out--OK? "My wife broke the code," he says, "and I supported her." And as with any divorce, embarrassing private details about the family and its businesses made their way into the public record. SAN JOSEBefore a planned commuter rail line to Silicon Valley reaches central San Jose, it would pass by the San Jose Flea Market in the city's Berryessa neighborhood, a massive open-air bazaar . Still Standing: Jeff Bumb, Bay 101's ostracized founder, boasts that despite various local, state and federal investigations over the years he has emerged squeaky clean. Other allegations were more dubious: Investigators chased after a tip that the Bumbs were skimming cash from the Flea Market parking lot, an accusation that was never proven. He demanded $10 million from his brothers to compensate him for violating the purported secret Bay 101 deal. There were flowers everywhere. "They didn't teach anything about this. He also pulled off an armed robbery of the Aloha Roller Palace. Some improprieties did turn up: Bumb & Associates, a partnership including the four brothers and their father, had failed to file required reports disclosing more than $100,000 in political contributions made between 1989 and 1992. But Jeff Bumb would greatly prefer not to talk about this. Jeff himself was hit with a federal grand jury investigation over financial transactions in connection with a multimillion-dollar residential development near Silver Creek Road. Jeff tells the story differently: "Matthew was my godson. At the time, Jeff was in the midst of negotiating an arrangement to be bought out of the family businesses. Though authorities were never able to prove a paid snuff plot, Jeff Bumb believes the allegations were a factor contributing to authorities' mistrust of him. The guy doesn't get a slap on the hand." Email Address: See available information. The Bumb family and the city of San Jos have been negotiating about how to downsize the flea market since 2007. Ultimately, Jeff says with resignation, he hopes I find the truth, "not my truth, not their truth, just the truth." When he was jailed, the desperate cop wrote a 15-page handwritten letter in pencil to George Bumb in May 1997 asking the Flea Market owner to bail him out. It wasn't the money, either. Well, George, whether you want to believe it or not I do love you and you are like a father to me." Bryant, who acts as emissary for the family and its patriarch, thinks the Bumbs are a misunderstood bunch. A nurse was present to monitor his condition. As a compromise of sorts, he was debating whether he should apply for a license as a gaming-club manager instead of as an owner. And for nearly a month, they did. "And I told you that I loved you and you are like a father to me. At one point in the investigation, sheriff's detectives had Jeff's daughter call Matthew while he was working at the Flea Market to confirm the sexual activities. He asked longtime family attorney Ron Werner if his brothers could write a recommendation letter for him, something state officials had told him he would need to be considered eligible for a gaming license. Behind the scenes, the Bumbs suspected their potential gambling competitors and a disgruntled former Flea Market employee of giving investigators unsubstantiated material to use against them. (In one case, George Bumb Sr. loaned Jeff $31,250 in 1992 for his son to invest in Bay 101.) But he didn't cash out. Tim now runs Bay 101, which he says is no easy task. He followed that with suits alleging breach of contract, wrongful termination and misrepresentation. She recalled that she was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt covered by a blanket. Deputy chief Tom Wheatley says that police wondered if Venzon, or someone, destroyed the barrel to prevent a ballistics test from tracing a fired bullet to the gun. I'm on the hook for $15 million. Before the end of the month, the Flea Market laid off Jeff's daughters Anne and Rebecca. Initially, police filed felony charges against Matthew Bumb for having oral sex with a minor and penetrating her with his fingers. And as with any divorce, embarrassing private details about the family and its businesses made their way into the public record. Tim and George Jr. worried that pressuring state and city officials to deal Jeff back in at Bay 101 would backfire and authorities would close down the card room. Finally, in July 1994, the state cleared Tim and George and gave them a conditional OK to let the games begin. John Detar - Address & Phone Number | Whitepages As a compromise of sorts, he was debating whether he should apply for a license as a gaming-club manager instead of as an owner. Just so everyone got the point, Jeff Bumb announced to the press that he and Brian were divesting from Bay 101, and records show he eventually sold his shares for $1.4 million. "Could he [Jeff] do any other work on his own behalf?" (In one case, George Bumb Sr. loaned Jeff $31,250 in 1992 for his son to invest in Bay 101.) Tim and George Jr. would appeal and reapply, the hope being that the club would open as soon as possible. Earlier this year, a month before Venzon was sentenced to 14 years in prison, district attorney investigator Michael Schembri closed out the Venzon case, noting in a court filing, "No new information has been uncovered relating to the murder for hire case [at the Flea Market] which our department investigated several years ago." Soon after his confession, the word started spreading in the family about what happened. Deputy chief Tom Wheatley says that police wondered if Venzon, or someone, destroyed the barrel to prevent a ballistics test from tracing a fired bullet to the gun. Tim and George Jr. would appeal and reapply, the hope being that the club would open as soon as possible. he asked. But he didn't cash out. "My wife broke the code," he says, "and I supported her." Don't Shoot: George Bumb Sr., the publicity-shy patriarch of the Bumb family and creator of the Flea Market, in a rare photo which appeared in California Today magazine in 1980. "It made you tough, made you get a thick skin." And it was very explicit in there that no Bumbs could have anything to do with the club. And then, just when it seemed as though family relations couldn't get any worse, they did. attorney Frank Ubhaus asked the Bumb patriarch. "Hell, no," George Bumb replied. Eight days after the molestation incident was reported to police--and one day after Jeff Bumb formally refused his father's $6.9 million buyout offer--George Bumb Sr. sent Jeff a curt typewritten memo informing Jeff that he was terminated effective immediately and had to clean out his desk before 5pm. Don't Shoot: George Bumb Sr., the publicity-shy patriarch of the Bumb family and creator of the Flea Market, in a rare photo which appeared in California Today magazine in 1980. Jeff's daughter interrupted Matthew and said, "And I didn't know better. EVERY DAY THE CLUB stayed closed, the Bumbs lost more money. "My issue with [George Bumb Sr.]," Jeff Bumb complains about his father, "was his control of where you lived, what kind of house you bought, where your children went to school, who your friends are, whether your children went to college, who they would marry, what kind of wedding they would have." Matthew Bumb's attorney argued that the relationship was consensual. He also disputes that such a letter was even necessary for Jeff to get licensed. The elder Bumb may not have been feeling well, but he wasn't too sick to remember who was boss in this family. And it was very explicit in there that no Bumbs could have anything to do with the club. Still Standing: Jeff Bumb, Bay 101's ostracized founder, boasts that despite various local, state and federal investigations over the years he has emerged squeaky clean. "I did a great job," Bumb says of the sprawling gambling club, furiously chomping on a piece of Wrigley's Doublemint, the gum he chews when he's not sucking on an unfiltered Camel.