By 1991, Fred Salvucci had championed the big dig for almost 20 years, and when he finally laid that mantle down, he didn't know who, if anyone, would pick it up up next and he certainly had no idea that it would be an old adversary

someone about as un salvucci as you can imagine who would take that mantle on. A man named Jim Caraciosios.

I have to admit, I was a little nervous when I met for the first time with Jim

Carassiodis because I had heard the stories about Jim Carassiois, and most of them

were not flattering. He's a real nasty piece of work as far as I'm concerned.

Brilliant, driven, unfortunately, sadistic.

If the stories were to be believed, this was a man who ruled the big dig by fear and

intimidation, a man who prowled the hallways of the transportation building, casually firing people, while proudly displaying

a hatchet on his desk as a warning to whoever might be next.

I remember the hatchet.

I saw the hatchet. These stories have been repeated so many times that they

feel both unquestionable and at the same time a little unbelievable, like mythology. But now here was Jim Caraciotus, the man walking into the studio in a gray suit with just a little shine to it and a stack of binders under one arm like a lawyer showing up for court.

All right, how are we on sight lines?

I feel like that's always a challenge here.

Can you see me okay?

Yeah.

But it very quickly became clear that the carasyotis I was sitting across from

was not going to live up to all the stories I had heard.

Well, is it okay if we jump in?

Yeah, sure.

However you want to go.

And that Carocyotis himself sees those stories a little differently.

...