The Scam
Robert Gomez was a 19 year old working as a security guard in Los Angeles, rooming with co-worker and friend James Nichols. Gomez had first told Nichols about his rich "adoptive" father, John Bowers, a food company tycoon living in Texas. Nichols actually claimed to have met Bowers at a country club in Long Beach. Later, Nichols agreed to serve as the executor of the Bowers estate. A year after meeting, the two roommates decided to save money by moving in to the Carson home of Nichols' parents, longtime members of the Christ Christian Home Missionary Baptist Church of nearby Compton.
Soon after, calls started coming into the Nichols house from men claiming to be Bowers' attorneys, stating that Bowers had died and keeping "executor" Nichols informed of the complicated legal affairs associated with liquidating the estate of his room mate's father. Three years later, just before Christmas 1997, 23-year-old Robert Gomez stepped into the "discipleship pulpit" of Christ Christian Home Missionary Baptist Church. He introduced himself as the adopted son of deceased tycoon John Bowers, who had left an estate valued at $411 million. He also announced that Bowers had been a devout Christian who had left instructions that his estate should sell a relatively insignificant portion of his estate - a fleet of 16 low-mileage company cars - to fellow believers. The cars would be sold to these good Christians for the low $1,000 to $1,100 estimated as the tax liability to the estate once probate cleared. However, they could not actually be delivered until the Bowers estate cleared, and the Vehicle identification numbers could not be released due to a gag order imposed by the probate judge.
Later that day, church members flocked to Nichols' mother, Rose, with the money orders and cashiers cheques required by the estate's lawyers. One of them called the cars "miracle cars" since Bowers had intended them to be miracles for people who had led dreary lives. The name stuck. Almost overnight, Rose Nichols sold $30,000 worth of cars to relatives and church members. Gomez and Nichols soon claimed that the fleet of company cars was much larger than the original 16 vehicles, and before long the proceeds reached $1 million. News of the miracle cars spread by word of mouth through the Christian community, and Rose was overwhelmed by the number of people coming forward. Nichols and Gomez designated several "team captains" to handle sales, but it wasn't long before they were overwhelmed as well.
Later in 1998, Rose Nichols received a call from Gwen Baker, who worked for Primerica Financial Services in Memphis, Tennessee. She'd heard about the Miracle Cars through her nondenominational charismatic church in Memphis--but was not only interested in buying one of them, but helping to sell them. She flew to Los Angeles to meet Nichols and Gomez, who immediately hired her as a "National Finder"--a professional sales manager who could also set up a central office for operations. Baker quit her job at Primerica, and opened an office in Memphis. She worked primarily through pastors of other churches in the Southeast who told their flocks about the cars. By early 2000, two other "National Finders" had joined up--Corinne Conway, an ordained minister in Higginsville, Missouri; and Kim Krawizcki, a former mortgage professional in Philadelphia.
The sales figures were staggering. For example, Conway made $992,000 worth of finder's fees in 2000 alone. A professional car finder in the Los Angeles area bought $120,000 in one day. Former NFL players Neil Smith and Ricky Siglar bought a total of $700,000 worth of cars. The promised delivery date got pushed back numerous times, but the Miracle Cars team readily distributed refunds to those who wanted out. When that didn't work, Gomez used his friendship with the finance manager of a Toyota dealership in Gardena to fabricate letters stating that the cars were being stored in secure lots across the Los Angeles area.
As it turned out, there was no John Bowers and no estate or probate case. Most importantly, there were no cars. The money was actually being used primarily to finance Gomez' ambitions of becoming a professional gambler. He once won $1 million playing pai gow poker, and often gambled with Larry Flynt. Nichols and Gomez ended their partnership in September 2001 and Nichols used some of the proceeds from the scam to open a custom car parts business in Las Vegas. It never got off the ground.
Read more about this topic: Miracle Cars Scam