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Too good to be true, cars never turned up

A book details a scam that snared churchgoers from St. Petersburg and all over the country.

By WAVENEY ANN MOORE
Published June 29, 2005

ST. PETERSBURG - Calvester Benjamin-Anderson has accepted the fact that she's been duped out of $4,000 and might never get it back.

Like thousands of churchgoers nationwide, she was tricked into believing she could get a late-model luxury vehicle at rock-bottom price. Too late, she and others learned that their dream cars had simply been a figment of the imagination of criminal minds.

Two California men, Robert "Buddha" Gomez and James Nichols, are now serving more than 20 years each in federal prison for the multimillion-dollar "miracle cars" scheme. Their scam, which ran from 1997 to 2002, targeted people of faith, using pastors across the country as usually unwitting conduits to the pockets of gullible church members.

It is now the subject of God Wants You to Roll! The $21-million "Miracle Cars" Scam: How Two Boys Fleeced America's Churchgoers, a book by John Phillips III released in March and published by Carroll & Graf.

According to Phillips, Gomez and Nichols met in 1994 and hatched their plan over a three-year period. They chose the Compton, Calif., Baptist church where Nichols' parents were respected members to launch their scheme.

By 2001, "miracle cars" had reached St. Petersburg. Members at one church bought into the idea, including Benjamin-Anderson, who borrowed $4,000 to buy a 1998 Lexus LS 400 and 1998 Ford pickup truck. Isabell Reivas, 67, turned to her daughter and grandson for the $1,000 she needed to own a Toyota Camry.

Four years later, the two women are still angry that they were tricked out of their money, but feel a measure of satisfaction that the culprits are behind bars.

"They do something wrong and they have to pay," said Reivas, speaking in the lilting accent of her native Trinidad.

"Why is it that they would fabricate something like this?" asked Benjamin-Anderson, 52, who has since replaced her aging 1985 Cadillac with a 1984 Buick station wagon.

"They need to pay restitution to those they hurt," she said.

The women learned about the "miracle cars" from their late pastor, the Rev. Glenn Miller. Miller, then head of Breakthrough Christian Center in St. Petersburg, told his congregation that a well-known Georgia minister also had encouraged his congregation to take advantage of the unexpected blessing.

The hoax was run with the help of a retinue of national finders. The story they circulated was that a wealthy Christian had died, leaving a fleet of vehicles to be sold to fellow believers at bargain prices. John Bowers, the fictitious benefactor, was said to have been Gomez's adoptive father.

"Once the con started rolling, it ran uninterrupted until June 2002," said Phillips, who covered the pair's trial in Kansas City, Mo.

By the time they were arrested, Gomez, a professional gambler, and Nichols had ensnared at least 4,000 people and sold about 7,000 make-believe vehicles. They accepted only money orders or cashier's checks, said Phillips, 52, editor-at-large for Car and Driver magazine. Neither of the men ever admitted to the crime, each claiming the other was the mastermind. Buyers of the imaginary vehicles included attorneys, city administrators and football players, Phillips said.

Though victims "spanned all genders, creeds, races," it appeared that "perhaps 70 percent" were African-American and members of churches that were predominantly African-American, he said.

Four people were arrested in the scam and charged with conspiracy, fraud and money laundering: Nichols, 26, Gomez, 27, and "finders" Gwendolyn Baker, 51, of Memphis, and Corinne Conway, 62, of the small Missouri town of Higginsville.

Conway used contacts through her Virtuous Women's International Ministry to further the national scheme. She and Baker, whom Phillips described as "a towering figure" in the Memphis church she attended, received hefty commissions for their sales. Conway made $1-million in 2000, Phillips said. Baker paid herself $30,000 a month and also received $8,000 a month for expenses, the author said.

Phillips said one of the reasons the scam kept going was that Nichols and Gomez gave refunds to those who requested them, "no questions asked." That convinced others that the deal was legitimate, he said. In all, the pair issued $8.5-million in refunds. About $8.7-million remains unaccounted for from the $21-million they made from the scheme, he said.

Benjamin-Anderson said her pastor refused to believe that the congregation had been tricked.

"When I told him it was a scam, he said he would appreciate it if I didn't cause division in the church," she said.

"He told us we could take (the offer) to the bank. But we were the ones that got taken."

Miller died in February at age 37.

Reivas, the grandmother who borrowed money to buy a Camry, said Miller later acknowledged that he and church members had been cheated.

"He tell us he sorry. He himself say he bought a car too and he lost money over it," said Reivas, who has had open-heart surgery and two strokes.

For Reivas, the loss of any amount of money is wrenching.

"A hundred dollars for me is like a million right now. I was hurt. I have two dead cars right now," she said, referring to the dilapidated vehicles parked in her driveway.

The case was handled by the office of the U.S. Attorney of the Western District of Missouri, which liquidated the assets of Nichols and Gomez to create a restitution fund for victims, Phillips said. Victims inquiring about refunds, should call toll-free, 1-800-733-6558, ext. 4231 or e-mail estate.cars@usdoj.gov.b

--Times researcher Caryn Baird also contributed to this report.

[Last modified June 29, 2005, 04:49:49]