In 1987, Brian De Palma’s classic film The Untouchables captivated audiences with its depiction of Eliot Ness and his team’s relentless pursuit of Chicago mob boss Al Capone. Based on true events, the film dramatized the fall of one of America’s most notorious criminals — a man who believed he was above the law. Fast forward to 2010, and a very different kind of “untouchable” empire crumbled in Bell, California, where city officials had been secretly bleeding a small working-class city dry for years. Both stories — though separated by nearly a century — share chilling parallels in how unchecked power, arrogance, and a belief in invincibility can destroy lives and communities. Today, here in Josephine County, Oregon, an eerily similar narrative seems to be playing out.
Al Capone ruled Chicago in the 1920s with an iron fist, building an empire of illegal alcohol, gambling, and violence during Prohibition. Capone, known for his brutal enforcement and a vast network of bribed officials and lawmen, seemed unstoppable. His empire was not just a criminal enterprise but a shadow government that thrived on fear and manipulation. Judges, police officers, and politicians were all in his pocket. To the public, Capone flaunted his wealth and charity, painting himself as a “Robin Hood” figure — but underneath was a dark world of extortion, murder, and vice.
Capone’s fall, as immortalized in The Untouchables, did not come from the typical avenues of law enforcement. It wasn’t for murder or racketeering that he was finally jailed, but for tax evasion — a technicality that brought down the giant. What really doomed Capone was his belief that he was “untouchable.” His arrogance led him to become sloppy, brazen, and overconfident, leaving behind a trail of evidence that a young, determined federal agent named Eliot Ness and his small band of incorruptibles used to dismantle his empire.
Fast forward to the sleepy, low-income city of Bell, California, where a different kind of mob ran things — this time wearing suits and ties rather than fedoras and tommy guns. Beginning in the early 2000s, city officials, including City Manager Robert Rizzo, orchestrated one of the most egregious cases of municipal fraud in U.S. history. Rizzo paid himself a staggering $1.5 million a year, while his deputies and council members took home hundreds of thousands annually — all at the expense of a city where the average income was under $30,000 a year.
Bell’s officials, like Capone, thought they were untouchable. They controlled every lever of power in the city, manipulated elections, and silenced dissent. Residents, many of whom were immigrants and working-class citizens, didn’t even realize they were being robbed blind — until the Los Angeles Times launched an investigation that blew the lid off the scandal.
Much like Eliot Ness in Chicago, it was one determined group — this time investigative journalists — that finally brought Bell’s leaders to justice. Rizzo and his co-conspirators were convicted on charges ranging from corruption to misappropriation of public funds. Their empire, built on arrogance and greed, came crashing down, showing that even “small-town kings” could not outrun the law.
Now, take a deep breath and turn your eyes to Josephine County, Oregon. While it may not (yet) be the stuff of Hollywood films or national headlines, the whispers growing into roars around town suggest that a troubling dynamic is at play — one that draws eerie comparisons to both Capone’s Chicago and Bell’s City Hall.
For months — even years — citizens have raised concerns about how city and county officials appear to be colluding rather than governing in the public’s best interest. Accusations of “good old boy” networks, backroom deals, misappropriation of taxpayer funds, suppression of free press, and politically motivated targeting of citizens and business owners are becoming harder to dismiss as mere “rumors.”
Several local figures have allegedly used their positions not to serve the people but to advance personal agendas, reward friends, and punish opponents. These aren’t mobsters with tommy guns, but the tools of modern power — financial threats, legal harassment, selective enforcement, and media manipulation.
Like Capone, some officials walk around as though they are above the law — untouchable. Like Bell’s city leaders, they seem to believe that average citizens are too powerless, too uninformed, or too afraid to challenge them. But history has shown us again and again: empires built on corruption, arrogance, and contempt for the people do not last forever.
In both Chicago and Bell, the downfall of corruption came from brave individuals who refused to be intimidated. In Chicago, it was Eliot Ness and his team of incorruptible agents. In Bell, it was relentless journalists and finally prosecutors who stood up for the people.
The question now is: who will step up in Josephine County? Will it be journalists, community activists, honest politicians, or perhaps a coalition of all three? Will citizens of Grants Pass and the broader county community demand transparency and accountability — or will fear and apathy let the alleged corruption fester?
Looking at Al Capone and Bell, California, one thing is abundantly clear: those in power, when left unchecked, can become drunk on that power. They begin to believe in their own myth — that they are untouchable, above the law, and immune to consequences. But the higher they climb, the harder they fall.
As we watch what is unfolding in Josephine County, one can’t help but hear echoes of history. When citizens begin to connect the dots, ask hard questions, and demand answers, the walls start to close in on even the most arrogant of players.
If recent events are any indicator — political maneuverings behind closed doors, suppression of local media, targeting of whistleblowers — Josephine County may be on the cusp of a dramatic reckoning. The parallels to The Untouchables and the Bell scandal are striking, and if history is our guide, things may get much messier before justice is served.
To those in power who believe they are “untouchable”: history has shown us your type before, and it has shown us how your story ends. To the people of Josephine County: if you want to see real change, real accountability, now is the time to become the modern-day Eliot Ness — or at least to support those who are willing to take on that fight.
Because one thing is for sure: you haven’t seen anything yet.
