“Ellsworth Johnson,” Crawford announced, trying to keep his voice steady. “You are under arrest for…”
Bumpy raised a finger.
Not aggressive, not threatening, just a finger. Then he cut another piece of steak, put it in his mouth, and chewed slowly. Forty officers stood there, guns drawn, as Bumpy Johnson finished his lunch.
“Gentlemen,” Bumpy finally said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I’ll be with you in a moment, but I paid €12 for this steak, and I’m going to finish it.”
What no one knew, what the FBI didn’t understand until it was too late, is that Bumpy Johnson had known about this arrest for two weeks. And what he did in those two weeks didn’t just embarrass the FBI. It changed how power operated in Harlem forever.
To understand what happened that afternoon at Wells Restaurant, to understand why Bumpy Johnson kept 40 federal agents waiting while he ate a steak, you need to understand who Bumpy was in November 1963 and why the FBI wanted him so much.
