Toronto’s Beatle bandit wanted a revolution

On the afternoon of July 24, 1964, Matthew Kerry Smith drove to the intersection of North York’s Overbrook Place and Elder Street in a modified Ford Galaxie that contained guns, a wig, and a guitar case, among other items. He parked and began to prepare for the armed robbery he’d been planning. It was Friday, and the weather was sunny and hot. Smith’s target — the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce at nearby Bathurst Manor Plaza — was dealing with the last customers of the day. The intelligent but troubled son of a successful businessman and mentally ill mother, twenty-fouryear-old Smith had more than just money on his mind. He harboured dreams of a revolution and viewed bank robbery as a means of financing it.

Smith had previously robbed two other banks at gunpoint and seized thousands of dollars. He had tried and failed to steal weapons from an armoury and been jailed for leading police on a wild car chase. Prior to these criminal exploits, Smith served in the Royal Canadian Navy (RCN).

Still in his car, Smith was clad in a white T-shirt bearing the slogan “CKEY Good Guys,” referring to the local radio station. He ducked beneath the dashboard and put on his disguise, which consisted of a Halloween mask depicting the face of French President Charles de Gaulle, sunglasses, and a longhaired Beatle wig. The Fab Four from England were all the rage and Toronto retailers had started selling wigs modelled after the band’s shaggy locks. A few months earlier, Harold Ballard, president of Maple Leaf Gardens, had donned one of these wigs to greet fans lined up to buy tickets for a pair of Beatles concerts.

Smith was heavily armed. His main weapon of choice was an air-cooled, gas-powered Fabrique Nationale (FN) .308 (7.62 mm) semi-automatic rifle. For backup, Smith packed a .45-caliber semi-automatic pistol in a belt holster.

The FN was black save for the barrel, which Smith had painted pink. There was some logic behind Smith’s choice of colour. He intended to approach the bank on foot, hiding his rifle in a guitar case. Unfortunately, the rifle was longer than the guitar case. So, prior to the heist, Smith had drilled a hole in one end of the guitar case large enough for the rifle barrel. Smith now placed the FN rifle inside the case, carefully poking the pink barrel through the hole. He snapped the guitar case shut and exited his car. Anyone who glanced his way would see a guitar case with a pink, metallic object sticking out of it and never guess it was part of a rifle.

Smith got out of the Ford Galaxie, holding his guitar case and a pair of canvas haversacks. In his odd attire, he walked the short distance to the bank. Bathurst Manor Plaza was on Wilmington Avenue, which ran north/south. The CIBC branch was at 221 Wilmington, next to Overbrook, which ran east/west. Also called the Wilmington Plaza, the shopping centre consisted of a nondescript cluster of retail and service outlets facing a parking lot.

Guitar case in hand, Smith walked through the parking lot and toward the CIBC branch. The bank had a vestibule and double doors. An exterior sign above an awning announced the presence of the CANADIAN IMPERIAL BANK OF COMMERCE in bold capital letters. Big windows along the south wall offered a view of the outside.

Smith’s attire instantly drew the attention of the roughly two dozen customers in the bank. Some thought he was pulling a prank. Sally Blanc, who was in the bank with her husband, Jack, would later tell a courtroom that Smith “looked like a clown.”

At fifty-four years old, Jack Blanc was short and muscular, with dark hair, a moustache, and a soldierly bearing. He worked as a furrier — a maker of fur garments — and was a veteran of both the Canadian Army and the Haganah (a predecessor of the Israel Defense Forces).

Jack and Sally Blanc had two children: daughter Diane, in her mid-twenties, and son Stanley, fourteen. The Blanc family — save for Diane, who resided elsewhere — lived in an apartment building at 242 Wilmington Avenue. Their unit overlooked Bathurst Manor Plaza. That Sunday, the family was intending to go on vacation.

Some bank customers recognized the CKEY name on Smith’s T-shirt and wondered if he was taking part in a publicity stunt. These thoughts ended when Smith opened the guitar case and took out the FN rifle with the pink barrel. He held the rifle in his right hand with the stock resting on his hip, the pair of canvas haversacks in his left hand.

Smith stepped to the northwest corner of the bank, to the office of manager Henry Martens. Martens was inside chatting with salesman Hartley Lepofsky when Smith kicked the door open. The men looked up in surprise at this outlandish character in the doorway. Martens noticed the barrel of the weapon pointed at him was pink and briefly wondered if it was a toy gun.

“This is a holdup! I want all the money!” shouted Smith.

Martens didn’t react right away.

“I don’t think this is very funny,” huffed the bank manager.

To show he was serious, Smith fired a shot a few feet above Martens’ head. The bullet blasted a hole in the wall measuring one inch in diameter and one-a-half-inches deep.

“When I saw the hole in the wall, I knew this could be no joke, and the noise itself had brought me back to reality,” stated Lepofsky.

At the front of the bank, accountant Carman Lamb was stunned by the sound.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever heard a .308 in a close space,” he says today.

Patrons and staff alike froze in place.

“Get moving! I mean business!” snarled Smith, behind the mask and shades. Witnesses took note of Smith’s headgear. Even people who might not otherwise be fans recognized the Beatle wig. The Beatles were everywhere that year, their pudding-bowl haircuts an endless source of media fascination.

Smith tossed the canvas haversacks over the bank counter. Then, he pressed his left palm against the smooth surface of the countertop and leapt over it, tucking his FN rifle under his right arm and hip as he vaulted.

Smith stood on top of Lamb’s desk and shouted, “This is a holdup!” For good measure, he added, “Hurry up, because robbing banks is a tough way to make a living.”