World-Famous Con Man Frank Abagnale Entertains at Kent State Stark

On Tuesday night, hundreds of people from around Stark County got to hear the firsthand account of a teenager surviving on his own using quick wit, a no-fear attitude and a whole lot of self assurance.

That teenager, best known as the con man in the movie "Catch Me If You Can," is Frank Abagnale, now in his mid-60s and a 37-year member of the FBI.

Abagnale spoke about his life inside the University Center at Kent State University's Stark Campus that night.

"Normally, when I walk up to the podium, it's to talk about fraud, embezzlement, identity theft and things of that nature, but tonight I'm going to talk a little bit about my life, on which the film 'Catch Me If You Can' was made," Abagnale said, adding a book, TV show and Broadway musical also chronicled his time as a con artist.

"Most of the people who created those were telling my story from their point of view, so I thought tonight I would actually just tell you the story from my point of view."

Abagnale went on to tell about his parents' divorce, and his having to choose between living with his mother or father. That spurred the 16-year-old Abagnale's decision to run away from Bronxville, NY, and lead a life on the run, starting in Manhattan.

He didn't know then that he wouldn't see his mom for seven years, and he'd never see his father again. His dad died while Abagnale was imprisoned later on.

He soon figured out he couldn't live on the wages of a 16-year-old boy, so he decided instead of being 16, he'd be 10 years old. And for the 6-foot-tall teenager, that was as easy as getting a driver's license and altering one digit of his date of birth.

It also wasn't easy to get by on the wages the work the "26-year-old" was making, so Abagnale supplemented his income by writing personal checks from a checkbook of his he had taken from home.

Friends would joke that Abagnale could walk into any bank and cash a check, but if they were to try it, they would be turned away.

"Years later reporters would write and speculate that that was because of my upbringing, mannerisms, dress, appearance, speech," he said. "Whatever it was, it was very easy to do so."

"Consequently, when the money ran out, I kept writing those checks," Abagnale said before the room erupted in laughter. "Of course the checks started to bounce. Police were looking for me as a runaway, so I thought maybe it was a good time to start thinking about leaving New York City."

In a scheme to get money, Abagnale decided to pose as a pilot and travel all over the world for free and, with a uniform like that, get anyone in the world to cash a check for him.

Abagnale called the Pan American Airways purchasing department, claiming his uniform had been lost through a hotel's dry-cleaning service. The airline suggested he go to the uniform supplier, where he was later fitted for a pilot's uniform.

"I spent most of that morning walking around LaGuardia (Airport) wondering, 'Now that I have the uniform, how the hell do you get on these planes?'"

He realized the uniform meant nothing if he didn't have a corporate ID, so, once again, he schemed a way to get the ID, and he used Pan Am decals from inside toy airplane boxes to transfer onto his blank ID card. Each scheme led to another, and Abagnale later found himself posing as both a doctor and a lawyer on separate occasions.

For Abagnale, alluding police and making a life on the run look easy wasn't about being brilliant. It was about being a kid — a kid who wasn't scared of anything and didn't understand consequences.

"Like any criminal, sooner or later you get caught," he said. "I was no exception to that rule. I was caught actually just once in my life at the age of 21 by the French police in a small town in southern France."

By that time, Abagnale had cashed $2.5 million in fraudulent checks in every state and 26 foreign countries. Pan Am estimates that between the ages of 16 and 18, Abagnale flew more than 1 million miles for free, boarding more than 250 commercial aircraft — not one a Pan Am aircraft.

After serving time in prison, Abagnale was released on the condition that he would help the federal government by teaching and assisting federal law enforcement agencies. Abagnale has now been associated with the FBI for more than 30 years.

"Had I been brilliant, had I been a genius I don't know that I would have found it necessary to break the law in order to just simply survive," he said. "People are always fascinated by what I did almost 50 years ago. I've always looked at what I did as immoral, illegal, unethical, and it's a burden I live with every single day of my life, and I will until my death."