In an unusual twist on employee benefits, Antwone Tate, a former FedEx worker based in Memphis, seemed to interpret “handling packages” as an open invitation for a side hustle involving diamonds, gold, and baseball memorabilia. This intriguing caper left job perks in a new light—cue the “finders, keepers” rule—until investigations unraveled the peculiar mystery.
The saga unfolded underneath the expansive roofs of the Memphis FedEx Hub where Loss Prevention honed in on a distressing pattern of missing packages around May 27. A meticulous probe thereafter led authorities through an awkwardly shining breadcrumb trail, eventually arriving at a pawn shop that resembled an unintentional extension of Tate’s storage unit.
Here’s where things sparkle—a diamond ring, valued at $8,500, lay among the treasures casually displayed for sale. Alongside, nearly $14,000 in gold bars, with their metal sheen unable to conceal the large, crimson flags they raised about recent disappearances. The most remarkable discovery there was that these items were pawned using Tate’s very own driver’s license—an oversight akin to pinning your own face on a wanted poster.
But hold your applause, as the caper had yet another layer. A third package, entwined in nostalgia and athletic history, evaporated into thin air. A 1915 Cracker Jack Chief Bender card and a 1933 Goudey Sport Kings Ty Cobb card represented the cardboard relics that vanished, each whispering tales of baseball’s storied past, and ripe for any collector’s dream. With a total value of $6,800, you’d expect discretion; instead, what surfaced was the digital breadcrumb—those very cards listed on eBay. Operating under the rather conspicuous seller name “antta_57,” it seemed a glaring neon sign pointing back to Tate.
The eBay account, shockingly traceable to Mr. Tate, might as well have been a personal diary of larceny. One wonders if the handle “iamguilty_100” wasn’t already taken. Following the electronic trail, Tate’s entrancing charade led right to the firm embrace of the law—charged with theft of property for these audacious moves.
FedEx’s reaction wasn’t hesitant. It was less an ax falling, more a definitive drop: Tate is no longer riding the courier’s wave. The company’s formal statement, a rather polite slap back to reality, served as a kindly reminder to all its employees that theft, while inventive, remains decidedly absent from job duties.
For those curious, before making your next online bid, a quick history check on the seller might save more than a little hassle. Avoid anything shared by an “antta_58” or its kin. FedEx customers, lamenting a lost “out for delivery” package, might find their digital sleuthing turn up unexpected treasures. However, biding one’s time until the next package arrives might prove slightly more prudent than putting faith in items listed under suspicious aliases.
Antwone Tate’s unexpected departure from lawful employment into an outlaw’s dream is a haunting reminder of where the blur between employee duties and personal fantasies may mislead. Whether driven by greed, opportunity, or sheer whim, Tate’s caper remains a multi-layered story of employment gone awry. His bemusement with the harnessing of digital enterprise to shift purloined goods, a capstone in misguided exploits.
It’s the outlandishness, audacity, and, inevitably, the electronic trails that unravel such plots. Instead of a ‘disco’ ball of fortune swung through pawn shop managers and secondhand markets, Tate’s personal treasure hunt now morphs into a solid lesson, tucked firmly between fed-up law enforcement, humor, and sheer disbelief. So, as tales go in the world of misplaced parcels and misplaced trust, perhaps it’s wiser to stick with paper trails over digital ones when concocting your heists—fictional or otherwise.