Abagnale High Quality Official

While hiding out in a New York City diner, two French police officers, tipped off by an airline employee who recognized him, walked in and arrested him. His extradition and trial were a media circus. He served time in France’s infamous Perpignan prison (which he called a "medieval hell"), followed by prisons in Sweden and the United States. After serving five years, Abagnale was released on the condition that he help the federal government—specifically, the FBI. He started by lecturing at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia, teaching agents the very techniques he had used to defraud the system.

Perhaps his most brazen con came next. Abagnale forged a Harvard Law transcript, passed the Louisiana bar exam (after several attempts), and got a job in the state attorney general’s office. As a prosecutor, he actually hired other lawyers to do his work while he studied the inner workings of the legal system that was hunting him. The Fall By age 21, Abagnale was wanted by the FBI, which had given him the nickname "The Skywayman." He had cashed over $2.5 million in fraudulent checks in 26 countries (over $15 million today). But his luck ran out in 1969. abagnale

Now in his 70s, Abagnale is a dedicated family man, a public speaker, and an author. His message to young people is a powerful one: crime doesn’t pay—at least not for long. He is the first to admit he was a "crook, a con man, and a thief." While hiding out in a New York City

He has also been a long-time consultant for the FBI, helping them catch other impostors and con artists. The agency that once hunted him now pays him for his expertise. His life story was famously adapted into the 2002 film Catch Me If You Can , starring Leonardo DiCaprio as Abagnale and Tom Hanks as the FBI agent who pursued him, Carl Hanratty (a composite character). The movie captured the glamour of his cons but also the loneliness and desperation of life on the run. After serving five years, Abagnale was released on

After running away from home, Abagnale needed a believable cover. He called Pan Am, pretended to be a pilot from a partner airline, and sweet-talked a clerk into sending him a uniform. Armed with forged identification, he became "Frank Black," First Officer. He spent two years deadheading (flying for free) across the globe, staying in luxury hotels, and cashing expertly forged payroll checks in each new city. He later admitted he never actually flew a plane—he just rode in the jump seat.