If you’ve been following along with the Gentlemen Smugglers Blog Series, we’ve been covering some incredible (but true) tales in GS lore — from daring escapes from the law, to female smugglers lore, to smuggling cannabis in Massachusetts and more — our storytelling, much like our products, is unparalleled.
Our history in NY runs deep, and as we get ready to launch in the state through our partnership with Nanticoke™, we wanted to take you on another trip back in time…
Keep reading for some more true tales featuring our very own, Barry “Flash” Foy.
Riding the High Tides on Long Island: Gentlemen Smugglers in the Early ’80s
Back then, Barry was living life on the run, dodging the heat and making moves to keep one step ahead of the law. In 1982, he swapped the Saint Barts sun for the shadowy streets of New York to lie low stateside. To cover his tracks, Barry sold everything he had—real estate, cars, everything… All part of the game to outsmart Uncle Sam and keep his hard-earned loot out of their reach.
Ah, the early ‘80s—a time of rock ‘n’ roll, radical moves, and Barry and the crew making some serious waves, literally. The boys were smuggling into New York, with Montauk and Sag Harbor on Long Island being their top spots. Late in the game? Maybe. Smooth operations? Totally. Until, of course, things got a bit hairy.
There was trouble when on one occasion some of the smugglers got busted out at sea close to Long Island, reminding everyone that the game was high stakes. But this being GS, the crew just sent another boat and managed to pull off the next load. Bottom line: it was always catch me if you can and they pulled off quite a few successful capers!
Living the Electric Dream
Barry loved New York—the chaos, the buzz, the nonstop action. It was the golden era when Studio 54 was the heart of the party, CBGBs was jumping, and the whole city felt electric. Barry dove into it, finding himself in the thick of everything happening.
NYC was the perfect meeting spot, whether you were cutting business deals or just looking to get lost in the crowd. He was moving fast and staying slick, all under the alias ‘Brad Kellenbeck.’
“At the Office”
Picture it: the Village on 13th Street, smack dab in the middle of 5th and 6th. That was Barry’s stomping ground for about two and a half years. Forget owning a car. Barry just walked, biked, or caught a cab when the mood struck. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly fancy, he’d roll with a limo waiting out front.
Back then, it was all about the payphones and beepers. Barry’s “office” was a phone booth on the corner of 6th and 13th. That’s where he ran his show, keeping things low-key to dodge any unwanted attention.
Need to talk to someone? Easy. Call the 1-800 message center, drop the password, and leave a time and number. They would then find a payphone at the appointed time and place, and wait for Barry’s call. Barry would carry around a hefty bag of quarters—up to $100 sometimes—to make sure his business rolled smoothly.
And it did… for a while.
Barry Claus
Barry’s cool landlady and next door neighbor in those days was, ironically, a high-end criminal attorney, but she had no clue who Barry really was. They got on pretty well. She’d ask him for help now and then since her health wasn’t the best.
One day – she says, “I’ve got this Christmas bash coming up, and I need you to play Santa Claus and handle the bar.” Barry hesitated but couldn’t say no. She promised to sort out the suit and everything else. All he had to do was fetch the tree and set it up. Easy enough, right? Her place was something else. Imagine a sprawling deck where you could lose yourself in the view of the still-standing World Trade Towers. A built-in bar, the whole nine yards. Luxury on another level.
A couple of days after he agreed to be her bartender dressed as Satnta, she casually drops the bomb on Barry—it’s mostly cops from the local precinct coming over, along with their families. Barry’s eyes widened, “The precinct?”
So there he was, suited up as Santa, complete with the wig and beard. The party started, and these cops got hammered, swapping jokes and downing drinks like there was no tomorrow. Fifty or sixty people, most of them detectives, packed into every corner. Keep in mind that Barry was a fugitive on the run at the time. So he simply hid his face, never removed the Santa beard and somehow kept his cool.
And it wasn’t over till the early hours. Thank God for the ‘party favors.’ Barry would slip into the bathroom, come back, and keep those drinks flowing! Barry couldn’t help looking around, stoned and bewildered, and thinking, “I’m on the run… What the hell is going on here?”
When the party finally wound down, and Barry peeled off the Santa gear, he could finally breathe.
Snagged by the Landline
Next Thanksgiving, trouble finally caught up. Barry was living in his place for a few years — immersed in the New York lifestyle — when his wife at the time decided she needed a landline for some sense of ‘security.’ Barry, not wanting to argue, went ahead and got the landline. Big mistake…
Back in those days, everyone had little phone books. Barry’s number ended up in a friend’s book, which ended up falling into the wrong hands. Next thing Barry knows, he gets a call from his friend’s girlfriend, “Hey, Barry, they got your number. They know where you live.”
Barry had no choice but to ditch the place. While the landlord was at work, he had some guys clear out his furniture and packed his essentials. He hit the road to upstate New York.
As Barry heard much later, the heat showed up just a few days after he split—six of them: FBI, DEA, Customs, IRS, the whole alphabet soup. They barged into the foyer, asking for Barry (or Brad) by name, and refused to leave. His landlady played it cool, claimed ignorance, and called her cop friends who, hilariously, finally ran the feds off. The authorities never even got a peek inside Barry’s apartment.
Barry eventually called his clueless former neighbor, and told her the truth about who he was and why he wouldn’t be back. It’s funny, he thought, how a simple thing like a landline number could unravel everything.
If it weren’t for that tiny little phone book…
They Ran Us Out & Now We’re Back — Gentlemen Smugglers Partnership with Nanticoke™
Things have really come full circle, and we’re thrilled to be a part of this new legal cannabis reality in New York State, working with the amazing team at Nanticoke™. Chip and Pete Shafer continue to exemplify the passionate spirit of greenhouse growers, deeply connected to their roots in Endicott, NY.
Their dedication and love for cannabis, evident in the high quality of Nanticoke™ products, reaffirm their commitment to the community and the state. As proud cultivators, processors, and distributors, Nanticoke™ is shaping the future of adult-use cannabis in New York. We’re launching with indica, sativa, and hybrid pre-rolls, starting with strains like CheeseCake, Maui OG, and Cherry Pie, though the offerings may shift – so be sure to keep your eyes peeled!
Ready to experience the passion and quality behind Nanticoke™ & GS Products? Discover our range of meticulously cultivated cannabis offerings and join us in celebrating this new chapter for New York State. Stay tuned for more news and product drops and be sure to visit our website to find us at a dispensary near you.
