Still, every night for as long as I knew him, when his day was done, whether it was at eleven p.m. or at one a.m. that his day was done, he went to sleep. And the second Jimmy Hoffa’s head hit the pillow he was sound asleep like somebody hit him with a sap. He was better than Russell at that. Without an alarm clock he was up at five. You didn’t get a chance to stay home and lick your wounds too much around Jimmy Hoffa.
