In what has to be one of the more audacious attempts at a career pivot, a FedEx worker in Memphis has casually blurred the line between delivering packages and diving headlong into a glamorous life of crime. Meet Antwone Tate, a man who clearly misinterpreted “We deliver for you” as a personal mission statement—helping himself to a bounty of treasures en route.
This isn’t a mere case of swiping a poorly taped parcel. Oh no, Tate apparently had a keen eye for bling and collectibles, setting his sights on items that glowed with desirability. Among the pilfered packages was an $8,500 diamond ring that probably sparkled enough to make even Lassie’s rescues seem dull. Not stopping there, our self-declared package detoxifier also liberated nearly $14,000 worth of gold bars—sure to catch the fancy of any would-be Midas.
But Antwone’s caper didn’t stop at precious metals. In an escapade that started to read like a heist movie’s wishlist, Tate dabbled in America’s favorite pastime, hijacking rare baseball cards that should’ve been on their way to a collector’s treasure chest. Among the cardboard victims? None other than a 1915 Cracker Jack Chief Bender and a 1933 Goudey Sport Kings Ty Cobb. If these names don’t mean anything to you, just know they’re like the Rembrandts of the baseball card world—except you can hold them without gloves, but generally shouldn’t.
Now, what’s a modern thief to do with such a peculiar bounty? Certainly not keep it all stashed under a suspiciously lumpy mattress. Tate decided the best way to liquidate these finds was through the magical world of pawn shops and the internet’s grand bazaar, eBay. Here’s where the plot thickens—and unravels simultaneously. You see, the pawn shop accepted the stolen goods via a transaction that, comically, involved using Tate’s own driver’s license.
Meanwhile, the eBay marketplace saw the stolen artifacts popping up under a seller name that was as thinly veiled as Clark Kent’s disguise or a toddler’s hide-and-seek skills. Listed under “antta_57,” these items might as well have been advertised in neon lights. When law enforcement eyes turned to these listings, the conclusion was painfully obvious to anyone with a mild grip on detective work: Tate was the mastermind behind this postal Ponzi scheme.
Up until May 27 of this year, Tate was still maintaining his regular shifts at FedEx, blissfully unaware that noses were sniffing at his loot trail. FedEx’s Loss Prevention team at the Memphis hub started noticing packages going astray like Drake’s hotline bling—always seemingly missing but still making a scene. Following the breadcrumb trail, which in this case was more like a gold-dust track, authenticated each disappearance by pointing back to Tate’s endeavors.
Once the authorities completed connecting dots simple enough for a first-grade workbook, Tate found himself facing charges for theft of property, not to mention being unceremoniously booted from his day job, with corporate handing him an expedited exit notice.
FedEx, in damage control mode, fired off a newsletter-style announcement bluntly reaffirming to everyone involved that sticky fingers doesn’t comply with any employee manual they circulate. And just like that, the one-two punch of shame and shameful exits landed with precision. It seemed a collective facepalm occurred far beyond the postal premises.
The aftermath of this bizarre tale leaves Tate without a reputable job or reputation to lean on, holding instead to a future date in court. Meanwhile, collectors and recipients who’ve just about given up on ever receiving their dearly awaited shipments are advised to log onto eBay with caution. If you fancy an $8,500 deal that seems too good to be true, or vintage baseball cards whose provenance raises suspicions, perhaps it’s best to let that opportunity slide away from your shopping cart.
In a world where tracking numbers and package insurance often blunt the sting of lost shipments, this tale reminds us all that sometimes things really do go missing—not to thieves in the night, but to employees pivoting just a wee bit too far from their professional loyalties. To paraphrase another kind of postal wisdom: Keep your packages close, and your delivery men even closer.
