The Phantom Giveaway

Chicago pedestrians who believe in God could indulge, last week, in an intriguing fantasy--the Phantom Philanthropist might strike at any moment.

Cecil Mayes was the first. The young (22) North Carolinian ex-Air Forceman was thumbing a ride on Chicago's West Side when a "late-model" car pulled up to the curb and the driver waved him over. "Do you believe in God?" asked the stranger, whom Mayes remembers as middleaged. "Yes," said Mayes. "Do you need some money?" "Yes," said Mayes. The man reached over, put a roll of bills in his hand and drove off. Round-eyed Bill Mayes looked down at his fist. It was clamped around six $50 bills.

Mayes hailed a passing police car and told his story. The cops were suspicious, but he had himself booked on a technical charge of disturbing the peace so he could take a lie-detector test, which he passed with flying colors. His $300 windfall also passed all-tests for counterfeit or stolen money. This week Cecil Mayes is spending some of it on wooing his girl in Wisconsin.

Masco Stone, 26, is a Negro carpenter who was putting putty on his first-floor window, also on Chicago's West Side. His story is that a round-faced, well-dressed man between 35 and 50 drove up in a light-blue Buick and said: "I guess it must take a lot of money to keep these old buildings in shape." Then, says Stone, he asked whether he believed in God, and when Stone said yes, thrust five $20 bills into his putty bucket and drove away. Stone also cleared his money with the police. "Now I plan to buy me a Bible," says Stone, the father of three. He is also planning to have a telephone installed.

Nathaniel Patterson, 22, an unemployed Negro laborer just out of the Army, was dejectedly waiting for a bus after having been turned down for his pre-service industrial job. Up drove a two-tone green Buick, he says, and a man about 5 ft. 10 in. tall, weighing about 160 Ibs., between 45 and 55, got out and asked him if he wanted a lift. Patterson said he was waiting for a bus. "Well," said the phantom, "do you believe in God?" "Of course I do," answered Patterson. This time it was a roll of five $50 bills. "Take this as a blessing," said the stranger before he drove away.

At week's end Chicago police were scouring West Side streets for the stranger, though most policemen hoped that if and when they met the Phantom Philanthropist they would be alone and in civilian clothes, looking needy.

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