Joseph Bruno's Blog, page 61

Joe Bruno on the Mob – Is the Bonanno Crime Family Rudderless?

 

    The LAW is gloating that the Bonanno crime family is basically a non-entity, or maybe even extinct,  but I'm not so sure.

                According to Joseph Ponzi, chief investigator for the Brooklyn DA's office, the recent arrest of acting Bonanno boss Vincent "Vinny TV" Badalamenti was the "last man standing" in the Bonanno hierarchy, and that the Bonanno's presently have no one in charge. Badalamenti was arrested with the help of mob rat Hector "Junior" Pagan, who is the ex-husband of "Mob Wives" reality star Renee Graziano. Pagan also wore a wire while speaking to his ex-father-in-law Anthony Graziano, which resulted in Graziano's arrest.

                The FBI is also gloating about the recent arrests of the top Bonannos. "They keep setting 'em up, and we keep knocking 'em down," said Seamus McElearney, the FBI , the leader of the FBI squad assigned to the Bonanno crime family.

                If the FBI and New York City law enforcement has learned one thing in the past 80 years or so of chasing the mob, it should be that as soon as one mob boss goes down, by either getting whacked or put into prison, another mob boss rises from the ashes, or gets "a bump up" to take their place. So it surprises me how smug both the Brooklyn DA and the FBI are with their statements about the demise of the Bonannos.

                If the law enforcement groups really feel they have their Bonanno problem licked, I'm sure there are a few smiling faces in the Bonanno ranks, hoping the law has let their guard down, so that the mob can continue with business as usual.

                Stay tuned for further developments.

 

You can see the article below at:

http://www.nypost.com/p/news/opinion/opedcolumnists/yes_we_have_no_bonannos_beqIqL1PSLA6O7jNCy4uzL

 

Infested by reality stars and rats, they may be the first of the Five Families to go extinct

By BRAD HAMILTON

Last Updated: 12:21 PM, February 12, 2012

Posted: 10:36 PM, February 11, 2012

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It started "The Godfather." It ended "Jersey Shore." Last week, the Bonanno crime organization — one of the "Five Families" of New York lore — became a parody of itself, shot down not on the tollway but with leopard print and mascara.

There's Renee Graziano in court, crying as she explains how her husband, Hector Pagan, flipped for the DEA, wearing a wire to nab her father, Anthony "TG" Graziano, consigliere to the Bonannos.

Then there's Renee on VH1's show, "Mob Wives," undergoing full-body plastic surgery that leaves her sliced up like prosciutto. She discusses the family business in such detail that her father stopped talking to her.

It's hard to tell who wounded the family more — the rat or the reality star.

In a recent episode, the oldest of the "Mob Wives," Angela "Big Ang" Raiola, turned to Pagan and summed it up. "We need some new guys . . . some real men."

An epidemic of snitching and a slew of arrests has gutted this once-robust family, started by original commission member Joseph "Joe Bananas" Bonanno.

Joseph Ponzi, chief investigator for the Brooklyn DA's office, says the recent take-down of acting boss Vincent "Vinny TV" Badalamenti — a relatively unknown bagel-store owner from Bensonhurst whom Ponzi called "the last man standing" — has left the family rudderless.

There's no clear boss, street boss or consigliere. The in-house counsel job became vacant on Jan. 27, when Anthony Graziano, busted with Badalamenti and other senior leaders, was charged with racketeering and extortion, thanks to Pagan's wire.

"They keep setting 'em up, and we keep knocking 'em down," said Seamus McElearney, the FBI supervisor whose squad investigates the Bonannos and has been hammering them and the Colombos with equal vigor.

The feds have secured a number of key Bonanno defections, including that of Joseph "Big Joe" Massino, the only New York crime-family leader ever to rat out his own people. Massino began cooperating in 2004, and over the last eight years his defection has been exploited to maximum advantage, bringing down virtually the entire upper management.

The biggest to fall was the family's toughest tough guy, ex-boss Vincent "Vinny Gorgeous" Basciano, and one of the few not to flip. He nearly drew the death penalty in June, thanks to Massino having secretly recorded the two of them blabbing behind bars, where Basciano not only copped to killing an associate but discussed in detail how and why the hit went down. Massino loosened up Basciano, his successor as family head, with a grim summary of the state of affairs.

 

 

Joe Bruno on the Mob – Introduction to Mobsters, Gangs, Crooks, and Other Creeps – Volume 3 – New York City

Mobsters, Gangs, Crooks, and Other Creeps – Volume 3 – New York City

 

By Joe Bruno

 

          PUBLISHED BY:

 

                                                Joseph Bruno Literary Service

 

 EDITED BY:

 

Marc A. Maturo

 

COVER BY:

 

 Nitro Covers

 

 

                                      Copyright 2012 Joseph Bruno Literary Services

 

 

                                                            Introduction

 

I've written three volumes on "Mobsters, Gangs, Crooks, and Other Creeps – New York City," and there seems to be no end in sight.

I originally planned to write two volumes on New York City subjects, then get on to the rest of the country. However, after finishing three volumes just on the miscreants, disasters, riots, and assorted murders which took place in the five boroughs of New York City, I realize I have a long way to go to give a full account of the truly horrible people who have lived, died, and desecrated the Big Apple, starting in the early 1800's, and continuing up until the present time.

Although this book is presented in alphabetical order, I will give you the introduction in chronological order.

The first order of business was a nasty business indeed. It was called the Old Brewery, which was built as Coulthard's Brewery in the late 1700's, in what later became the treacherous Five Points section of Lower Manhattan. In 1837, Coulthard's Brewery went out of business and the building was converted into 100 squalid tenement apartments, which housed over 1000 men, women, and children, the vast majority of whom would never see the light of day for many years. The Old Brewery was undoubtedly the most decadent building ever built. Besides the debauchery, including incest, which took place in the Old Brewery on a daily basis, more than a murder a day was committed on the premises.

When the Old Brewery was razed in 1853, the bones of hundreds, maybe even thousands of people were found by workers, either hidden in the walls, under the floorboards, or buried in the basement.

In the 1850's, Sadie "The Goat" Farrell was a common thief in the Fourth Ward near the East River, who had her ear bitten off by the infamous Amazon Gallus Mag in the Hole-In-The-Wall bar on Dover Street (now the Bridge Café). However, Sadie gained her fame and fortune as the leader of a gang of "river pirates," who terrorized the East and North (now the Hudson) Rivers all the way to upstate New York. When the police finally put a stop to her pirating ways, Sadie wandered back to the Fourth Ward, where she made up with Mag, and had her severed ear returned to her.

Then we have Satan's Circus, the area between 24th and 40th Streets, and between Fifth and Seventh Avenues, which was teeming with houses of prostitution and illegal gambling. The "Main Street" of Satan's Circus was Broadway between 23rd and 42nd Streets, which was then known as "The Line." Satan's Circus later became part of a larger tract of decadence known as "The Tenderloin."

Satan's Circus began thriving right after the Civil War, and continued to prosper until the beginning of the 20th century. Satan's Circus was allowed to exist due to corrupt New York City police officers, who took payments to look the other way, and sometimes even became partners in the sex and gambling dens themselves.  In 1895, the Ladies Temperance Movement, under stalwart leaders like Carrie Nation, put pressure on New York City Mayor Strong to put an end to Satan's Circus. Strong, in turn, appointed Teddy Roosevelt as New York City police commissioner. Under Roosevelt's leadership, the brass in the New York City police department gradually weeded out the cops who allowed Satan's Circus to exist.

By 1910, Satan's Circus was just a sad memory of what can happen when police officers fill their pockets with ill-gotten cash.

Then we have the McFarland/Richardson Murder Case.

Abby Sage, a famous New York City stage actress, was married to a Daniel McFarland, an especially cruel man who was a failure as a husband, and as a businessman. In 1867, Sage met Albert Deane Richardson, an upstanding individual, and one of the most notable journalists of his time. The two fell in love, and Sage divorced McFarland, with the intention of marrying Richardson. However, Richardson, an habitual drunk, wanted his revenge. After first wounding Richardson in the leg while Richardson and Sage were exiting a theater, McFarland, while Sage was out of town, shot Richardson three times in the chest in Richardson's Park Row office of the New York Tribune. Sage rushed to Richardson's side, and they were married on his deathbed.

The resulting McFarland murder trial captivated and split New York City. The main thrust of the trial, was did a man (McFarland) have a right to kill another man (Richardson) because of a failed marriage?

You'll be as shocked as to the outcome as I was.

The Brooklyn Theater Fire of 1876, was the third worst fire in United States history. Because of the terrible condition of the dead bodies, an accurate account of how many people actually perished in the fire could not be determined. Due to the forensic evidence available at that time, it was estimated by the coroner that anywhere from 275-400 people had perished. But that was just an educated guess. 103 unidentified bodies, and parts of bodies, were buried in a common grave in Greenwood Cemetery in Brooklyn.

The Great Rocking Chair Scandal of 1901was the result of an entrepreneur conning the Parks Department of the City of New York into allowing him to put his own brand-new, green rocking chairs in the city's parks, instead of the usual hard wooden benches. This was all fine and dandy until the general public discovered that it would cost five cents a day to sit in those new chairs. This outrage transpired during a raging summer heat wave in New York City that killed hundreds, and the resulting riots graphically displayed the fact that you can't charge the general public for something that was previously free.

The General Slocum paddleboat fire was one of the most devastating incidents ever to take place in America. The boat, filled with more than a thirteen hundred German/Americans, mostly women and children on their way to their yearly German-oriented picnic, caught fire in New York Harbor on June 15, 1904. When the boat was finally extinguished, 1,031 people had perished in the tragedy.

 Amazingly, because of the oncoming war with Germany, and because the vast majority of the General Slocum victims were Germans, the memory of the General Slocum Fire was soon eradicated from the public's consciousness. It was replaced by the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire of 1911, in which there were approximately one-tenth of the deaths (146 deaths) as did the General Slocum fire.

            "Typhoid" Mary Mallon was an Irish immigrant who came to America in 1884. After working menial jobs that paid little, Mallon became a cook of some note. Unfortunately, she was also a healthy carrier of the deadly typhoid virus. In several households where Mallon was employed as a cook, the inhabitants of these households suddenly became sick, and some even died. Finally, it was determined that Mallon was the cause of these infections, but since Mallon had never been sick herself, she refused to believe it was possible she could be a carrier of this deadly disease. But after Mallon was forced to undergo blood and feces analyses, it was determined without a doubt that she was in fact a carrier. As a result Mallon was segregated on a small island off the coast of Manhattan, with only a small dog as a companion. What happened next showed how deadly Typhoid Mary really was.

            "Mobsters, Gangs, Crooks, and Other Creeps – Volume 3 – New York City" contains bios on several Mafioso, such as Carlo Gambino, his cousin Paul Castellano, Vito Genovese, and Carmine Galente. There is also a piece on the murder of Jewish mobster Harry "Big Greenie" Greenberg, who became the victim of the first mob hit in the state of California.  Plus, we have a feature on Evelyn Mittelman, who was called "The Kiss of Death," because several of her boyfriends wound up quite dead.

            The Prohibition era is covered quite well here too. First there is the Cotton Club, a legendary mobster-run Harlem nightclub, where all the entertainers and workers were black, and all the customers — lily white. Then we have a nice ditty on Texas Guinan, a cowgirl, turned Hollywood actress, turned raunchy singer/entertainer/speakeasy owner, who greeted all her well-healed nightclub customers with a hearty "Hello Sucker!" Guinan was such a roaring success during Prohibition, she was known as "The Queen of the Nightclubs."

            The one person featured in this book who has never been portrayed as one of the "bad guys" was special prosecutor, and later New York Governor and Presidential candidate, Thomas E. Dewey. However despite his credentials, Dewey was so ambitious, it was not beneath him to frame a mobster for something the mobster didn't do, because Dewey couldn't nail the mobster on a crime the mobster did commit. So in my book (which is this book), that makes Dewey just as bad as the bad guys he enjoyed putting in jail. After you finish reading my piece on Dewey, I think you'll agree with my assessment.

            "Mobsters, Gangs, Crooks, and Other Creeps – Volume 3– New York City" was a labor  of love, which I thoroughly enjoyed writing,  as I did writing Volumes 1 & 2. And because I can't seem to run out of New York City bad guys, Volume  4 will probably detail just New York City miscreants too. Future Volumes, and I figure there will be at least a dozen in all, will finally touch on other cities in our fine country of America.

Upstate New York. New Jersey. Boston. Philadelphia. Chicago. Detroit. Cleveland. Milwaukee. Kansas City. California, and Las Vegas. Just wait. Your time is coming too. Then on to Canada, Mexico, and the rest of the world.

 

If I live that long.

            Now fire up your Kindle, or whatever device you desire, and start reading about some of the worst people God has ever created.

 

Joe Bruno

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

 

Joe Bruno on the Mob – Hector Pagan to Testify Against Vinny TV

 

  According to an indictment brought by the Federal government, Vincent "Vinny TV" Badalamenti, an alleged top Bonanno crime family banana, dispatched three tough guys to "have a little chat" with mob informant Hector "Junior Pagan who was allegedly delinquent on a $5,000 loan. And the chief witness against Badalamenti in his upcoming trial is Pagan himself, who had been wearing a wire while talking to various alleged mobsters, including his ex-father-in-law Anthony Graziano, the father of Pagan's ex-wife Renee Graziano, one of the co-stars of VH1's "Mob Wives."

            However, Badalamenti's lawyers expect to have a field day grilling Pagan on the stand when it comes time for Pagan's to perform his rat act in court.

            "We intend to attack his credibility and expose his motive to testify falsely for the government," Ronald Fischetti, Badalamenti's defense lawyer, told the New York Post.

            As was reported yesterday in this blog, Fischetti, along with his co-counsel Eric Franz, intend to allege that Pagan was involved in the murder of alleged Luchese crime family associate James Donovan in the Gravesend section of Brooklyn in 2010. In fact, Fischetti and Franz have written to Brooklyn federal prosecutors asking for information about "Pagan's role in Donovan's murder.

            If there is evidence that Pagan was involved with Donovan's murder, Badalamenti's lawyers will allege that Pagan is just making up tales out of school in order to save his own skin.

            It wouldn't be the first time a mob canary testified against former pals in order to get a reduced sentence. As far back as 1941, Abe "Kid Twist" Reles, one of Murder Incorporated's top killers, turned state's evidence and began testifying against his former associates. Reles' testimony helped put killers like Harry "Pittsburg Phil" Strauss, Mendy Weiss, and Louie "Lepke" Buchalter right into the Sing Sing electric chair. But on November 12, 194, before Reles could testify against other Murder Inc. alumni like Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel, Frankie Carbo, and Albert Anastasia, Reles went flying out of the 6th floor window of the Half Moon Hotel in Coney Island, while supposedly under twenty-four hour New York City police guard.

            The official NY police story was that Reles "fell" out of the window while trying to escape. But mob boss Frank Costello said years later that he spread $50,000 around the NY City police department in order to quicken Reles' demise. In fact, Costello said that the cops who were supposed to be guarding Reles, were the ones who actually flung Reles out the window.

            But times have changed, and Pagan is now in the Witness Protection Program, safe as a newborn baby in his mother's arms.

            Stay tuned for further developments.

 

You can view the article below at:

http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/tv_mobster_shakedown_xAgSdPB1126xScBNvjc3qN

 

TV mobster shakedown

By MITCHEL MADDUX

Last Updated: 12:44 AM, February 14, 2012

Posted: 12:44 AM, February 14, 2012

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The reputed acting street boss of New York's Bonanno crime family dispatched three tough guys to "chat" with a reality-show mobster who failed to pay back a $5,000 loan, the feds said yesterday.

Vincent "Vinny TV" Badalamenti, an alleged senior member of the Bonannos' ruling panel, allegedly sent the hoods to shake down Hector Pagan, a wiseguy-turned-rat who is featured on "Mob Wives" and is the ex-husband of star Renee Graziano.

The gritty details of the extortion could be laid bare in court if Pagan — a former Bonanno associate — takes the stand against Badalamenti.

The reputed mobster's attorneys said, however, that they plan to portray Pagan as a self-serving turncoat who will say anything to save his own skin.

"We intend to attack his credibility and expose his motive to testify falsely for the government," Ronald Fischetti, Badalamenti's defense lawyer, told The Post.

At yesterday's hearing in Brooklyn federal court, Fischetti told a judge that Pagan was recently linked publicly to the Mafia murder of a Luchese family associate in July 2010.

Read more: http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/tv_mobster_shakedown_xAgSdPB1126xScBNvjc3qN#ixzz1mOjFJnNM

 

Joe Bruno on the Mob – Rat Pagan May Be Implicated in a Murder

They say what comes around goes around.

It looks like Hector Junior Pagan, resident rat of the popular VHI show "Mob Wives," could be facing a murder rap, even though he became an informant whose actions resulted in the arrests of several alleged mob figures, including his former father-in-law Anthony Graziano.

According to the below article in the NY Post, Pagan, who allegedly secretly began wearing a wire around the same time he was appearing in cameos on "Mob Wives," allegedly took part in the robbery-murder of James Donovan, a Luchese family associate, in the Gravesend section of Brooklyn in July 2010. According to the Post, "attorneys Ronald Fischetti and Eric Franz (who are representing Vincent "Vinny TV" Badalamenti) wrote to Brooklyn federal prosecutors, asking for information about Pagan's role in the Donavan murder."

Baldalmenti is one of the alleged mob figures that Pagan secretly taped, and those tapes are one of the reasons Baldalmenti was arrested in late January.

Pagan is the ex-husband of "Mob Wives" star Renee Graziano, who says she was as surprised as anyone when it was revealed Pagan had become an informant. Renee has recently denounced Pagan and says she supports her father "100 percent."

The kicker here is, even though Pagan may have been promised a reduced sentence for his cooperation, he was most likely under obligation to reveal every crime he had committed in the past to get that deal. If Pagan didn't reveal his role in the Donavan murder and it can be proven that he indeed was involved, his deal with the government could go right out the window.

Couldn't happen to a nicer guy.

 

The article below can be seen at:

           

http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/reality_star_slay_link_SmFfwJB6xSuPNWYubW3UuI

 

The ex-husband of "Mob Wives" star Renee Graziano may have to answer for a Mafia murder carried out just months before he assumed a featured role in the show, sources told The Post.

Hector Pagan, then a Bonanno crime family associate, took part in the robbery-murder of James Donovan, a Luchese family associate, in the Gravesend section of Brooklyn in July 2010, according to sources and official documents.

Roughly a year later — while the VH1 reality series was still taping — Pagan secretly became a DEA informant and taped wiseguys.

On Friday, attorneys Ronald Fischetti and Eric Franz wrote to Brooklyn federal prosecutors, asking for information about Pagan's role in the murder.

They represent Bonanno senior ruling panel member Vincent "Vinny TV" Badalamenti, whose arrest last month resulted in part from conversations secretly recorded by Pagan.

Joe Bruno on the Mob – Sadie "The Goat" – The Queen of the Waterfront

 

            She was not as vicious with her claws as the Dead Rabbits' Hellcat Maggie. Nor as big and strong as an Amazon riverfront bouncer named Gallus Mag. But Sadie "The Goat" Farrell made more money than both women combined when she was the "Queen of the New York Waterfront."

            Sadie Farrell was born and raised in the slums of the Fourth Ward near the East River. As a young girl she hung around with street hustlers and thieves. Slight of built, but mean and vicious, Sadie usually worked the streets around the docks in concert with a male companion, who gave her the muscle backup she needed. When a mark emerged drunk from one of the local dives, Sadie would take a running start, then ram the top of her head into the victim's stomach. This was a dangerous maneuver, since sometimes the person delivering the headbutt does more damage to themselves than to the intended victim. But Sadie was a pro, and she made sure only the top of her head made contact with the victim's gut, and not sensitive areas like her nose and forehead. The headbutt stopped the victim in his tracks, and as soon as he turned his attention to Sadie, her male companion used a slingshot to propel a rock to the side of the victim's head. If that didn't work, a bat or a sap always did the trick. Then Sadie and her partner would take everything of value from the unconscious mark, even his shirt, pants and shoes. This was small-time work for Sadie, but it still puffed up her reputation on the East Side docks.

            One day, Sadie made the mistake of having one too many belts in the Hole-in-the-Wall bar on Dover Street, just two blocks from the East River. The bouncer at the Hole-in-the-Wall was a six-foot female creature from England named Gallus Mag. Mag patrolled the bar with a small bat strapped to her wrist, which she was not reticent to use on unruly customers. If after a few whacks on the head the drunk was still feisty, Mag would then wrap him in a headlock, then bite off one of his ears, before she flung him out the front door. The ear would then go into a jug of alcohol, which Mag proudly displayed behind the bar. The jars filled with ears behind the bar was called "Gallus Mag's Trophy Case."

            Sadie being Irish and Mag being from England was an accident waiting to happen. It's not certain who started the slurs first, but it's a good bet it was Sadie, and that was not a smart thing to do. Mag, who was twice Sadie's size, bopped Sadie on the head a few times with the bat, but Sadie still flailed away at Mag with a vengeance.

            Another not a smart thing to do.

            Mag enveloped Sadie's head with her massive arms, and in a flash, one of Sadie's ears had been detached from the side of her head. Mag deposited Sadie on her rump on Dover Street, then deposited Sadie's ear in an alcohol-filled jug, and proudly displayed it behind the bar. Mag even scripted on the jug, "Sadie the Goat's Ear."

            Disgraced and disheartened, Sadie took her show on the road and wound up on the West Side docks, clear around to other side of Manhattan from her former haunts. One day while wandering around trying to figure out how to make a score, Sadie witnessed members of the Charlton Street Gang unsuccessfully attempting to board a small sloop anchored in the middle of the North River (now called the Hudson River). The Charlton Street Gang was so inept and disorganized, the ship's crew had no trouble beating them back and beating them up in the process. Sadie figured with her expert direction, the gang would do much better than before if she were the boss. So Sadie helped the gang members lick their wounds, and then convinced them with her brains and their brawn, they could make a very successful team indeed.

            A few days later, with Sadie leading the gang, they were able to hijack a much larger sloop, and with the "Jolly Roger" (skull and crossbones) flying from the masthead, Captain Sadie led the gang up and down the North and Harlem Rivers, up to Poughkeepsie and beyond. They raided small villages; robbing poor people's farm houses and the riverside mansion of the rich. Because ocean liners and major shipping vessels were so well-protected, Sadie and her crew concentrated on raiding smaller up-river merchant ships instead.

            Sadie was so into her "River Pirate" routine, she began reading voraciously on pirate history and pirate lore. After discovering that pirates had once kidnapped Julius Caesar, she ordered her crew to go on a kidnapping spree. In the spirit of old pirate traditions, some true, some contrived, Sadie even forced several members of her own gang to walk the plank if they did not do exactly as she demanded.

            For several months, Sadie and her crew were extremely successful in their endeavors. They stashed their booty in several hiding places, until they could dispose of it for cold, hard cash, though the various fences along the North and East Rivers. One of these fences was Fourth Ward,, who through her store on Clinton Street, was said to be the largest fence on the entire east coast of America.

            But all good things must come to an end.

            After several home owners were murdered by Sadie and Charlton Street Gang, the upstate Hudson Valley residents banded together and formed a force of resistance. The farm folk ambushed the Charlton Street Gang as it came ashore, and police patrolling New York's harbor stopped them from pillaging the small merchant ships on the North River. Soon, so many gang member were killed, Sadie was forced to abandon her pirating ways. What was left of the Charlton Street Gang went back to the West Side docks, and soon they completely disbanded.

            Sadie decided to return to her old haunts in the Fourth Ward, where she was now hailed as the "Queen of the Waterfront." With the cash she had earned from her pirating days, Sadie opened up her own ginmill.

            Soon after Sadie's return to the East Side docks, the Hole-in-the-Wall bar was the site of seven murders in just two months. As a result, the New York City police shut down the Hole-in-the-Wall bar for good. But before last call at the Hole-in-the-Wall, Sadie visited Gallus Mag. The two girls made up, and Mag was so gracious, she went behind the bar, retrieved Sadie's pickled ear, and returned it to its rightful owner.

            Sadie wore her severed ear in a locket around her neck for the rest of her life.

 

 

 

 

 

Joe Bruno on the Mob – The Murder of Harry "Big Greenie" Greenberg

 

He was a mob insider, whom his former pal Louie "Lepke" Buchalter" decided knew too much to live. As a result, Harry "Big Greenie" Greenberg became the victim of the first mob hit ever in the sunny state of California.

Harry Greenberg, who also went under the names of Harry Schacter and Harry Schober, grew up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan with Lepke and Lepke's longtime partner Jacob "Gurrah" Shapiro, who were affectionately known as the "Gorilla Boys," and then, as they became more prosperous — the "Gold Dust Twins." Greenberg was tight with the two murderers, and was their partner in various garment center businesses, and swindles. Apparently a few murders were involved, and while there is no evidence that Greenberg participated in any of these these murders, he sure knew about the murders, and why they were committed. Maybe Greenberg even knew who had committed those murders. That knowledge turned out to be not such a good thing in the wicked world of Louis "Lepke" Buchalter.

Greenberg palled out with Lepke and Shapiro, and he even spent the better part of his summers with them at the Loch Sheldrake Country Club, in the Catskills in upstate New York, owned by legitimate businessman named Sam Tannenbaum. Sam Tannenbaum had a teenage son named Allie, who who worked at the hotel, either waiting tables, or setting up beach chairs by the lake. Sam had hoped that Allie would be his heir apparent at the hotel when Sam decided to retire, but Allie was destined for bigger and better things.

Or so Allie thought.

At the end of the summer in 1931, Tannenbaum was strolling down Broadway in Manhattan, when he bumped into Greenberg.

Greenberg asked Tannenbaum, "Do you want a job?"

"I could use one, if it pays," Tannenbaum said.

Greenberg smiled. "This one is for Lepke. You know what kind of a job it will be."

Unwittingly, Greenberg had just helped hire one of his own killers.

As time passed, Tannenbaum rose up the ladder in Lepke's "Murder Incorporated," which was a mob subsidiary, whose only purpose was to kill anyone that the top mob bosses in New York City, and later, mob bosses all over America, said needed to be killed.

Things started to go south for Lepke, when in 1936, Special Prosecutor Thomas E. Dewey, who had already put Lucky Luciano, Lepke's partner in the National Crime Syndicate, in jail for a 30-year bit, set his sights directly on Lepke. Dewey went after Lepke's garment center rackets, and Lepke's shakedown "Bakers Union." However, these swindles were small potatoes compared to what Dewey really had in mind for Lepke. Convicted drug dealers always did substantial time in prison, so Dewey convinced the Federal Narcotic Bureau to build a case against Lepke, in a massive drug-smuggling operation. Figuring he was facing big-time in the slammer, Lepke went on the lam. Lepke was hidden in several Brooklyn hideouts by his Murder Incorporated co-leader Albert Anastasia, while Lepke's rackets were tended to by other Syndicate leaders.

While Lepke was in hiding, he started thinking about who knew enough about his rackets to put Lepke in jail for a very long time, if not right into the electric chair. Lepke got word to all his killers, and anyone in the know, to either "Get out of town, or die." Lepke's thinking was, if any of his men got arrested, they might squeal on him in order to work out a better deal for themselves. It turned out that Lepke was right to worry about this, and that's why in the spring of 1939, Lepke sent word to "Big Greenie" Greenberg to lam it out of town.

Greenberg took Lepke's "advice" to heart and he hightailed it up to Montreal, Canada. While in Montreal, Greenberg got to thinking, "Hey, I'm up here in nowhere Canada, and I can't even earn a decent dime. These guys better start taking care of me good."

As a result, "Big Greenie" Greenberg did something very stupid. He sent a letter to Mendy Weiss, who was Lepke's second-in-command in Murder Inc., saying, "I hope you guys aren't forgetting about me. You better not." Then he asked Weiss for a reported $5,000 to help him fight the cold weather in Canada.

Greenberg waited for a response, or the money, or both. When he got neither, he got to thinking again. "Hey maybe, sending that letter was not such a great idea."

By this time, Weiss, after conferring with Lepke, had already given the order to Tannenbaum to go up to Canada and erase Big Greenie from Lepke's list of "people to worry about." But when Tannenbaum arrived in Montreal, Big Greenie had already flown the coop, and was officially a "lamster," not only from the law, but from the guys he thought were his best friends.

Greenberg figured he'd hightail it up to Detroit, where the "Purple Gang," another subsidiary of the National Crime Syndicate, might be nice enough to stake him a few bucks, and maybe even give Greenberg a safe place to hide. The Purple Gang, run by Sammy Coen, whose nickname was Sammy Purple, was very nice to Greenberg; too nice Greenberg thought. While he waited for some stake money, Big Greenie started thinking again, and he came up with the notion that the Purple Gang was stalling him so that killers from New York City could travel up there to do the big job on Big Greenie.

"They must have checked the New York office," Greenberg figured. "The New York boys must have told them, 'Keep him in tow until we get a couple of boys up there.'"

Greenberg was right. Tannenbaum and two other gunsels were in route to Detroit at the precise time Greenberg decided to take Horace Greeley's advice and "Go West young man."

Greenberg went as far west as he could without swimming, and he stopped in Hollywood, California, the new hometown of Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel, a top boss in Murder Incorporated, and one of the few killers who thoroughly relished doing his job.

Siegel had been sent out to California in 1937 by the National Crime Syndicate to take control of all the illegal activities in the state, which was considered virgin territory by the East Coast mob. After organizing the syndicate's gambling interests, Siegel decided there was big money to be made by unionizing the Hollywood extras.

You could have the biggest movie stars, the best scripts, and the finest producers and directors, but without extras, most movies could never get made. So Siegel unionized the extras and collected tidy sums from each and every one of them for the privilege of appearing, if only a few seconds, in a Hollywood production. Siegel even became a movie extra himself.

However, that was chump change compared to what Siegel really had in mind.

Tall and Hollywood-handsome, Siegel inveigled himself into the upper reaches of the Hollywood elite. He dated starlets two at a time, and even had a hot and heavy affair with an Italian Countess. The top actors and actresses of that time were Siegel's best friends, but they learned fast being pals with a man known as Bugsy (no one ever called him "Bugsy" to his face) was an easy way to put a huge dent in your bank account.

Using the same technique he learned from Lepke in the labor unions, Siegel approached the biggest stars with his smooth line of patter. He would romance the female stars, then scare the hell out of them with his reputation, and a few pointed words. But with male stars, Siegel got straight to the point

With a notebook and pen in Siegel's hands, the conversation would go something like this, "Hey look chum, I'm putting you down for $10,000 for the extras."

"What kind of deal is this?" the actor would protest. "What have I got to do with the extras?"

Siegel would then shake his head, like a father disgusted at an ignorant child. "I don't think you understand. Take your new picture, for instance. Every thing's ready to go. But what happens if the extras go out on strike? That means the stagehands go out on strike too, because they're all union. So there goes your picture."

Without blinking an eye, every Hollywood star Siegel approached, without exception, paid up and paid up good. In 1940, when the Fed got a warrant for Siegel's thirty-five room Holmby Hill's mansion, they found in a safe upstairs a detailed accounting of the "loans" Siegel received for all the top Hollywood names. In one year alone, Bugsy Siegel had shaken-down actors and actresses to the fine tune of $400,000. And no one even complained to the cops. These frightened Hollywood suckers even palled out with Siegel while he was sticking his hands deep into their pockets.

So when the word came from back east that Greenberg was in Hollywood, of course Siegel was given the contract. Now, usually a man of Siegel's stature would just give out the orders, and maybe help with the planning. But Siegel insisted, against the advice of Lepke, on getting in on the actual Greenberg murder himself.

Bugsy just loved a good killing.

"We all begged Bugsy to keep out of the shooting," Lepke's pal Doc Stracher said years later. "He was too big a man by this time to become personally involved. But Bugsy wouldn't listen. He said Greenberg was a menace to all of us and if the cops grabbed him he could tell the whole story of our outfit back to the 1920s."

At Newark Airport, just before he boarded a flight to Hollywood, Tannenbaum was given a small doctor's instrument bag by the boss of New Jersey mob himself: Abner "Longie" Zwillman. Inside this bag were several "clean" guns, which were to be used in the Greenberg Hollywood caper.

In the meantime, Siegel was assembling his "hit team," which included Whitey Krakow, Siegel's bother-in-law from New York City, and Frankie Carbo, a Lower East Side thug and Murder Inc. operative, who had already been arrested 17 times, and charged with five murders, but none of the charges had resulted in Carbo doing any significant time in prison. Carbo was also a bigtime fight promoter and manager, and many of his top-notch fighters were suspected of not giving their best effort when their boss and his pals had bet bigtime on the other man.

Now came the issue of obtaining a getaway car.

Sholem Bernstein, an independent operator from New York City, just happened to be vacationing in Hollywood, when he decided to visit his old pal Benny Siegel. Soon, Bernstein would be sorry he ever made that visit.

Before even the small talk began, Siegel got right to the point.

"Clip a car," Siegel barked at Bernstein. "Leave it in the parking lot down the street."

Bernstein, a veteran at these sort of things, looked perplexed. Usually, when he clipped a car, he hid it in a private garage where the police wouldn't be able to see it.

"A parking lot?" Bernstein said.

"That's right," Siegel snapped. "Just do as I say?"

So, Bernstein clipped a car and parked it in the open parking lot, just as Siegel had requested. Almost immediately, the owner of the stolen car filed a police report. Because they were on the lookout for the stolen car, the cops spotted the car right out in the open and returned it to its rightful owner.

Despite this misfortune, Siegel told Bernstein to clip another car. Bernstein said he would, and he even told Siegel how he usually operated. "Then you get license plates off another car that you case to see the owner only uses it once in a while, like a Sunday driver," Bernstein said. "By the time the guy find out, you got the job done, and the cops are looking for him – why are his plates on a hit car. Then you…"

Siegel cut Bernstein off in mid-sentence.

The veins bulging in his neck, Siegel said, "Who the hell are you, coming in and telling me how to do a job? Out here it goes my way. And don't you forget it."

Even though Bernstein was in Hollywood on vacation, the mob rules were when a mob boss tells you to do something, you do it, or you're dead. But Bernstein figured, when he was back in New York City and asked to do a job, the mob bosses, because Bernstein was a capable freelancer, let him handle things his own way. Now, since Siegel was dictating terms, Bernstein felt he was under no obligation to continue with the job. So Bernstein jumped in his car and headed back to New York City, which displeased Siegel to no end, and caused him to find someone else to pilfer a car for the Greenberg caper. Fuming, Siegel now wanted Bernstein dead.

But more on that later.

By this time, the surveillance on Greenberg's residence at 1804 N. Vista De Mar Drive revealed that Greenberg was little more than a recluse. He never left home, except for his nightly 15-minute drive, each way, to get a newspaper in nearby Bel Air. Greenberg told his wife that his little nightly excursion "kept him from blowing his top."

On the night of November 22, 1939, Thanksgiving Eve, a gunmen blew Goldstein's top for him.

Just after dark, Tannenbaum picked up the stolen car from the parking lot. Then he drove Siegel and Carbo to Siegel's home to pick up Siegel's Cadillac, which was to be used as a crash car in case the cops, or a nosy bystander, decided to chase them after the deed was done. The two cars, with Carbo in Siegel's car, then drove to a spot a several houses down from Greenberg's residence. They watched as a few hours later, Greenberg emerged from his house, looked carefully both ways (missing the two parked cars down the block), got into his car and sped away. Carbo then emerged from Siegel's car, slithered down the block, and hid in the bushes near Greenberg's house.

Like clockwork, just over 30 minutes later, Greenberg turned the corner of Yucca Street and headed toward 1804 N. Vista De Mar Drive. Greenberg's car passed the two parked cars, but both Tannenbaum and Siegel had slid down in their seats so they could not be seen. A spit second later, Tannenbaum flashed his headlights, just for an instant, alerting Carbo, who was waiting in the wings ready to exit stage right into a murder scene. As Greenberg tried to exit his car, Carbo sped from the shadows and pumped five bullets into Greenberg's head.

Then Carbo raced back to the stolen car and jumped in next to Tannenbaum. Tannenbaum sped away, with Siegel in his crash Cadillac following close behind. (The crash car was always a legitimate registered car, so the driver could claim after a crash, either with a police car, or a civic-minded civilian's car, that he had just lost control of his car.). The two cars rushed to a preordained spot where they met with another co-conspirator waiting in a third car. The third chap turned out to be Champ Segal, a small-time criminal who was always willing to help the big boys with whatever. Segal immediately drove Tannenbaum to San Francisco, where, mission accomplished, Tannenbaum hopped on a plane back East.

While Greenberg was being filled with lead, his wife Ida was inside their house waiting for her husband's return. She was called to testify at the 1940 Harry Greenberg murder trial of Siegel (Carbo was scheduled to be tried at a separate trial, and Tannenbaum had turned rat, ready to fly out to California to testify at both trials).

On the stand, Ida Greenberg said, "I was reading and suddenly I heard a few shots, and because they were so fast and because I heard a car drive away, I thought they were backfires. But finally I got out of bed and went downstairs. I recognized the car and I saw a great amount of blood outside the car. I opened the door and there was my husband. I started screaming for help."

During Siegel's trial, Abe "Kid Twist" Reles, who had also turned canary and was the corroborating witness the prosecution needed to convict Siegel and later Carbo in California, suddenly flew out of the sixth-story window of the Half Moon Hotel in Coney Island. At the time, Reles was under 24-hour police guard, even while he was sleeping. However, the official police report said Reles died "trying to escape by lowering himself down the side of the hotel using several bedsheets." How this was possible with a policeman supposedly in Reles' bedroom was never fully explained by the police. Frank Costello later said he had spread $50,000 around the New York City police department to get rid of Reles. It was also rumored, the police guarding Reles were the ones who threw Reles out of the window.

The case against Siegel also went "out the window" with Reles, and the charges against Siegel were dismissed due to lack of evidence.

Carbo was tried in California a few months later, but due to the lack of corroborating evidence of Tannenbaum's testimony by Reles, his case ended in a hung jury. Carbo was set to be tried a second time, but according to Burton Turkus, New York City District Attorney William O'Dwyer, who had Tannenbaum under wraps, refused to allow Tannenbaum to travel back to California to testify at Carbo's second trial. As a result, the charges against Carbo were dropped, and no one was ever convicted of the murder of Harry "Big Greenie" Greenberg.

Still, Siegel had a stone in his shoe and that stone was named Sholem Bernstein.

There was a system the National Crime Commission had in place for settling matters of dispute. Bernstein couldn't be touched by Siegel unless Siegel had the permission of the boss of Bernstein's New York City territory. The New York City bosses considered Bernstein one of their best men and refused to harm a hair on his head. But Siegel was adamant that Bernstein must die, so this compelled Siegel to fly to New York City in order to plead his case for the death penalty for Bernstein.

The National Crime Commission prided itself on its internal justice system. Every man who was targeted to death by someone, was allowed to have his case pleaded in a kangaroo court, usually by someone with pull within the organization. The man who took Bernstein's part was none other then Abe Reles, who had not yet turned canary, and was still very much alive. As was shown when he took the stand against his old friends, Reles had a way with words, and he could be very convincing when he got the urge, which, considering his career, was quite often.

The sitdown took place in midtown hotel room, with a nine-member panel deciding on the fate of Bernstein, of which there was no appeal process possible. Siegel pleaded his case first, firmly stating that Bernstein was on a job, and not only had disobeyed direct orders, but had fled the scene before his job was completed. Siegel pointed out that the penalty for this was death. Period.

Now it was Reles' turn.

Reles began by saying he was calling no witnesses. He also admitted that his client – Bernstein – had indeed fled California before he was able to steal the much-needed second murder car. And then Reles went on to explain why his client was completely innocent of all the charges.

Reles told the panel, "The same day Ben gave him the contract, Sholem got word from New York that his mama is going to cash in. Sholem is a good boy. His mama is dying; he figures he should go there. You all know how a mama is. It makes it easier for her to go if her boy is sitting there by the bed, saying nice things – like he loves her and she is getting better and like that."

"So Sholem doesn't even think of a contract. He don't think of nothing. He lams out of L.A. and hustles home to be with his mother when she checks out. He drives day and night. All he wants is to hold her hand. He is a good boy."

Reles' put his chin up into the air and raised his voice an octave. "And that gentlemen," he said, "that is why Sholem left town. Not on account of ducking the contract. But on account his mama is kicking off."

When Reles had finished, there was not a dry eye in the room; not even Siegel's. Bernstein was unanimously acquitted, and Ben Siegel flew back to California, only to have his own murder contract approved by the National Crime Syndicate, and summarily executed, on June 20, 1947.

 

 

 

 

 

Joe Bruno on the Mob – Renee Graziano Weeps in Court

It was an extremely uncomfortable situation in Federal court on Tuesday, February 7th, 2012.

Mob Wives' star Renee Graziano sat in court to hear the criminal charges alleged against her father Anthony Graziano, who was arrested recently. along with several other alleged Mafia figures, including Vincent (Vinny TV) Badalamenti. Also in the courtroom were the relatives of the other defendants, but nary a word, or glance was exchanged between Renee, who was in tears, and the other defendant's relatives.

The reason for the cold shoulder appears to be that Renee Graziano's ex-husband Hector "Junior" Pagan, who has been featured in episodes of Mob Wives (including one where the two apparently were headed back together) has been working as an informant for the Feds. Beside giving the Feds inside information on the defendants, Pagan wore a wire when speaking to Anthony Graziano. This wire allegedly revealed that Graziano asked Pagan to collected an overdue usurious loan. This was one of the charges leveled against Graziano in court.

When a reporter approached Renee and asked if she felt uncomfortable being around the relatives of the other defendants, she said, "I don't feel uncomfortable around anybody. I send my apologies and I feel horrible, but I'm not responsible (for Pagan's treachery). I didn't do anything. But I can understand they may feel uncomfortable around me."

I really don't see the need for any apologies on Renee's part. Obviously, she and the executives of Mob Wives knew nothing about Pagan working for Team America. The Feds would never allow this knowledge to leak out, otherwise they would have a very dead ex-informant on their hands.

I realize the show Mob Wives is an abomination, especially from the standpoint of the average Italian-American. I watched one episode and my ears were ringing from all the cursing (one of the stars banged out 22 variations of the f-bomb in a short segment, and seemed proud of the fact). I lived in Little Italy in NY City for 48 years, and I never heard a woman curse in front of me, let alone in front of tens of millions of viewers. (I know women curse, but in my neighborhood, never in front of men. And men never cursed in front of women either. Just the rules. If an f-bomb ever slipped out, there would be an immediate profuse apology. Or a severe smack in the face. Or maybe worse.)

But no matter what you think of the show, or of Renee Graziano in particular, you have to know she was an innocent victim in all of Pagan's treachery. And what about her son AJ, who is the most innocent victim of all?

As for the lawyer in court who said about Renee Graziano, "She's the one with the fake face and the black shoe polish hair, right?", he deserves a kick in the belly. That potty-mouth retort was totally irrelevant to the trial, and if I were his client, I'd make this lawyer totally irrelevant too, by firing him on the spot.

I know there are people out there gloating about the Graziano family's problems, but I'm not one of them.

Remember the old Indian proverb, "Walk a mile in my shoes."

Or the verse in the Bible, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone."

People need to show a little compassion. They'll never know when they'll need a little compassion themselves.

 

 

You can see the article below at:

 

http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/mob-wives-reality-show-star-renee-graziano-meltdown-federal-court-article-1.1018972

 

'Mob Wives' reality show star Renee Graziano has meltdown in federal court

Graziano cries a river for her wiseguy father

Comments (5)

By John Marzulli / NEW YORK DAILY NEWS

Wednesday, February 8, 2012, 2:06 AM

 

 

"Mob Wives" reality show star Renee Graziano cried a river in federal court Tuesday for her wiseguy father, who was secretly recorded by his scheming former son-in-law.

 

Graziano, wearing a plush fur coat, covered her face with both hands and wept when the prosecutor discussed her ex-hubby Hector Pagan's taping of Bonanno gangsters — including her capo father Anthony (TG) Graziano and the crime family's reputed boss, Vincent (Vinny TV) Badalamenti.

 

Dabbing her eyes with a tissue, Graziano looked straight ahead and did not glance at the relatives of the other indicted gangsters sitting around her in the courtroom.

 

"I don't feel uncomfortable around anybody," Graziano said later. "I send my apologies and I feel horrible, but I'm not responsible (for Pagan's treachery). I didn't do anything.

 

"But I can understand they may feel uncomfortable around me," she added.

 

Her surprise appearance at a routine status conference surprised some observers.

 

PHOTOS: MOB STYLE

 

"She's the one with the fake face and the black shoe polish hair, right?" snipped a lawyer.

 

A gossip Web site had reported that she suffered a panic attack last month when prosecutors unsealed the indictment against her father, although Pagan's double-crossing had been known since Anthony Graziano's arrest two months ago.

 

Pagan wore a hidden wire since at least last August, recording incriminating conversations about extortions and the armed robbery of a Bonanno-controlled illegal social club, according to court papers.

 

But Renee Graziano insists she's not a drama queen.

 

"This is real life — this is reality," she said. "If I had known what (Pagan) had done, I would have told my father, 100%.

 

"He (Pagan) is dead wrong," she continued. "My son loved his dad. He's destroyed by this."

 

Assistant Brooklyn U.S. Attorney Nicole Argentieri disclosed in court that the feds have a reality show of their own — a videotape of federal agents executing a search warrant at Badalamenti's social club in Bensonhurst two years ago.

 

Renee Graziano's co-stars include Karen Gravano — the daughter of mob rat-of-all rats Salvatore (Sammy Bull) Gravano, who testified against the late John Gotti — and the wives of a couple of Mafia wannabes. The show was created by Renee's sister Jennifer.

 

jmarzulli@nydailynews.com

 

Read more: http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/m...

 

Joe Bruno on the Mob – The Old Brewery

 

It was called the "most decadent building ever built," and there is no doubt the Old Brewery, located in the Five Points area of Lower Manhattan, was the quintessential den of iniquity.

The Old Brewery was originally what the name implies: a brewery, built by Isaac Coulthard, just southeast of a body of fresh water called the Collect Pond. After more than a hundred years of being polluted by various industrial enterprises, including Coulthard's Brewery, Collect Pond was filled in during the time period of 1811-1812. New streets sprung up on the former body of water and other existing streets were extended.

By 1812, Cross Street (then Park Street, now Mosco Street) passed in front of the Coulthard's Brewery, and Orange Street (now Baxter Street) intersected Cross just north of the brewery. At the intersection of Cross and Orange, Anthony Street originated, and soon two more streets intersected at this very point: Mulberry Street and Little Water Street (which no longer exists). This became the notorious area known as the Five Points, and Coulthard's Brewery was the hub.

After the Financial Panic of 1837, during which 363 United States banks closed completely and thousands of businesses fell into financial ruin, Coulthard's Brewery went out of business. It was converted into a tenement building and renamed the Old Brewery.

The Old Brewery, which was partitioned off into over 100 small rooms housing over 1000 people, was five stories high, but only the top three floors had windows. Most rooms had no sunlight and fresh air, and some of the babies born there did not see the light of day until they were into their teens. The outside of the building was originally painted bright yellow, but by the time it had been converted into a tenement, the outside walls were peeling, and now had a sickly greenish color, looking like an old dragon ready to die.

There was a narrow three-foot-wide alley on the south side of the building, which narrowed even further, until it ended at a large first floor room called the "Den of Thieves." More than seventy five men, woman, and children lived in the Den of Thieves without furniture, or any conveniences whatsoever. The woman were mostly prostitutes, and they entertained their customers in this large room in full view of everyone who occupied the room with them.

The cellar, which formerly stored brewery machinery, was converted into twenty small rooms, occupied only by black men with their wives, who were mostly white. In one basement room about fifteen feet square, twenty-six people lived under conditions that can best be described as misery and squalor. One day, a little girl was stabbed to death there, when it was discovered she was in the possession of a bright new penny. The girl's dead body lay in a corner for five days before her mother buried her in a shallow grave in the floor.

On the top three floors, which were occupied by Irish-Catholics, ran a long corridor aptly named "Murderer's Alley." Along Murderer's Alley there were seventy-five rooms, occupied by murderers, thieves, pickpockets, prostitutes, and degenerates of every type known to man. Incest was common and fights were a constant occurrence. During every hour of the day there was some sort of disturbance going on in Murderer's Alley. Victims, who had been lured into the brewery with the promise of booze, or sex, or both, were killed and stuffed into the walls and under the floor boards. It was estimated that during the last fifteen years of its existence, at least one murder a night was committed in the Old Brewery.

Things were so dangerous, if only a handful of policeman entered the brewery to quell a disturbance, they were instantly attacked and killed, and their clothes stolen, before their bodies were buried in some small crevice in Murderer's Alley. As a result, when the police did storm the building, they came in full force of 50-75 men, armed with clubs, bats, guns, and knives.

Just as it was dangerous for people to enter the building, it was just as dangerous for the building's inhabitants to venture outside into the fresh air. The denizens of the Old Brewery were so hated and feared by the general public, any human who walked out the front door of the brewery was immediately pelted with stones and hit with bats. This caused people who wanted to leave the brewery to do so through a maze of tunnels that snaked throughout the Five Points area.

As outlandish as it might seem, some of the inhabitants of the Old Brewery had once been prosperous people of some importance. The Panic of 1837 had something to do with that, but mostly people who knew better sank to the level of the slime-balls who surrounded them. It was rumored that the last of the Blennerhassetts, the second son of Harman Blennerhassett, who conspired with Aaron Burr to form a Western dictatorship, died in the Old Brewery, as did other families of a higher calling. They decided of their own free will that they would spend their last days entrenched in the violence, insanity, drunkenness, and promiscuity that was the daily way of life in the brewery.

The churches of that time voiced great distress at the goings-on in the brewery. However, they were unable to make a dent in the brewery's myriad of problems because those churches were mostly Presbyterian, while the inhabitants of the brewery were overwhelmingly Irish Catholics, who detested the Protestants due to the prosecution of the Catholics back in Ireland, where most of these wretched people were born.

In 1840, a Congregational Church called the Broadway Tabernacle was built on Broadway near Anthony Street, just a short walk from the brewery. But although many attempts were made to do humanitarian social work at the brewery, nothing of consequence was ever accomplished.

In 1850, the Ladies' Home Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church sent the Rev. Lewis Morris Pease into the Five Points, along with his wife, to open a mission on Cross Street near the brewery. Pease was considered one of the great humanitarians of his time. But he soon realized that the ills in the brewery could not be combated unless the conditions that caused the crime, vice, and poverty were eliminated. Pease stared schools for both adults and children, and he also established work rooms in the brewery where clothing manufacturers sent clothing materials, so that Pease and his wife could manufacture decent clothes for the brewery inhabitants. This did not please the Ladies Home Missionary Society, who insisted that preaching the word to God was Pease's job, not getting involved with worldly activities.

A year into his work at the Old Brewery, Pease was replaced by the Reverend J. Luckey, a noted evangelist. The reason Pease was let go was because a group of ladies from the Ladies Home Missionary Society visited Pease's mission and discovered, that since Pease and his wife were so busy manufacturing clothes for the poor, Pease had not give a religious sermon in more than two days. However, Luckey fared no better than Pease, and it was decided that in order for the misery and decadence to end, the brewery had to be razed to the ground and replaced by a church.

In 1852, the Ladies Home Missionary Society, with money raised from a group of philanthropists headed by Daniel Drew, bought the Old Brewery. The purchase price was $16,000, and the city of New York contributed $1,000 to the purchase. On December 1, 1852, the Ladies Home Missionary Society asked the police to raid the brewery and evict the wretched people still living there. Scores of armed policemen stormed inside, and numerous vicious battles at close quarters took place.

By the end of the day, the police had arrested twenty known murders, and children, who had never seen sunlight, blinked in terror as they were led from the building by the police.

The next day, the demolition of the Old Brewery commenced. As the building was being torn down, laborers were seen carrying numerous sacks of human bones that had been found inside the walls, underneath the floorboards, and in the cellar. In the next few days, dozens of gang members raided the premises looking for buried treasure they heard had been hidden there. Yet, nothing of value was ever found.

It cost $36,000 to build, and on January 27, 1853, Bishop Jones laid the cornerstone for the Methodist Episcopal Church, which was now on the site of the Old Brewery.

The City of New York rejoiced at the demolition of the Old Brewery and the creation of the church. The Reverend Thomas Fitz Mercein was so moved, he wrote a poem celebrating the occasion. It said:

 

God knows it's time thy walls are going!

Through every stone

Life-blood, as through a heart, is flowing:

Murmurs a smothered groan

Long years the cup of poison filling

From leaves of gall;

Long years a darker cup distilling

From withered hearts that fall!

O! this world is stern and dreary,

Everywhere they roam;

God! Hast thou never called the weary

Have they in thee no home?

 

Foul haunt! A glorious resurrection,

Springs from thy grave!

Faith, hope and purified affection,

Praising the "Strong to save!"

God bless the love that, like a angel,

Flies to each call,

Till every lip hath this evangel,

"Christ pleaded for us all!"

Oh! This world is stern and dreary,

Everywhere they roam;

Praise God! A voice has called the weary,

In thee has found a home!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joe Bruno on the Mob – Anthony Graziano is Not Angry Anymore With His "Mob Wives" Daughters

Even though his two daughters, Jennifer and Renee Graziano, are involved in the TV tell-all "Mob Wives," reputed Bonnano crime family captain Anthony Graziano feels like it all water under the bridge. And despite the fact that Renee's ex-husband Hector Pagan joined Team America and was instrumental in having Graziano arrested again, according to Graziano's lawyer Patrick Parrotta, everything in hunky-dory in the Graziano household.

Parrotta told the press at Graziano's arraignment in late January, "He (Graziano) does not hold what Hector did against his daughters."

And that's the way it should be. No matter what, blood is blood, and just because Pagan became a scumbag of the first order, does not mean Graziano's daughters should be held responsible. Children make mistakes, and if every time a daughter or son pissed off a father he stopped talking to them, there would be stone silence throughout the world.

Parrotta also brought up an interesting point in his interview with the New York Daily News. Despite the fact that Pagan began wearing a wire in August 2011, at the same time he was appearing in an episode of Mob Wives, Parrotta said he was unsure if the government directed Pagan to go on the show as a way of "cozying up to the Grazianos."

The more I think of it, the more it starts to make sense. I wouldn't put it past the Feds to do anything legal they deemed necessary to put someone connected with organized crime behind bars. And where ordering Pagan to infiltrate the Graziano's inner circle again is certainly legal, it still stinks to the high heavens.

Remember one thing for sure. High-profile arrests and convictions (and anyone associated with the Mafia is certainly high-profile) generates promotions and fame for the Feds — agents and prosecutors alike. And promotions mean more pay, and more pay means higher retirement benefits, or maybe a future in politics, or a future judgeship … and so forth and so on.

In the final analysis, it all comes down to cash and notoriety with the Feds. And putting away anyone whom the Feds perceive as "the bad guys," is just an added bonus.

The only problem with that is, what if the Feds think you or I, unjustifiably, are the bad guys? Would they stop at anything to put us in prison?

It's happened before that certain people were unjustly targeted by the law. Wall Street people were arrested in droves during Giuliani's reign as US Attorney for the Southern District of New York, only for it to emerge later that the charges against some of these people were dropped for lack of evidence. This was after these people were forced to do the embarrassing "perp walk" in front of the cameras.

Could the same thing happen to us?

I hope not. But I'm not so sure.

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http://www.nydailynews.com/news/bonan...

Bonanno big Anthony Graziano has a 'Mob Wives' daughter who was married to a rat, but gangster's chipper in court

Wiseguy faces extortion trial based on wire worn by daughter's ex-husband Hector Pagan

By John Marzulli / NEW YORK DAILY NEWS

Tuesday, January 31, 2012, 9:45 PM

HIS LIFE may be a soap opera, but a top Bonanno gangster whose daughters hit the big-time with the "Mob Wives" reality show was all smiles at his arraignment Tuesday.

Reputed capo Anthony (TG) Graziano pleaded not guilty to extortion charges based on secret tapes recorded last year by his turncoat ex-son-in-law Hector Pagan.

Pagan was married to Graziano's daughter Renee, who stars in the VH1 show conceived by her sister Jennifer.

Graziano, 71, waved to wife Veronica and daughter Lana, then greeted Brooklyn Magistrate Marilyn Go in court Tuesday.

"Good afternoon, ya honor," Graziano said.

"Can you talk a little louder, I'm deaf in one ear."

"You look pretty good," Go said.

"What I got left," Graziano said.

Graziano was arrested last November while serving the last few months of a prior conviction in a Brooklyn halfway house. He is also named in the indictment unsealed last week against acting boss Vincent (Vinny TV) Badalamenti and fellow capo Nicholas Santoro.

Graziano's lawyer Patrick Parrotta insisted all is well in the Graziano family despite Pagan's treachery.

"He does not hold what Hector did against his daughters," Parrotta said outside court.

The mobster's mouthpiece said reports that Graziano was upset about the TV show were old news.

"There's no estrangement, everybody's talking," Parrotta said.

While Graziano may be in plea negotiations, he would never ever consider cooperating with the government, Parrotta insisted.

Pagan began wearing a wire last August and also appeared in an episode of "Mob Wives" shot last summer, but Parrotta said he was unsure if the government directed him to go on the show as a way of cozying up to the Grazianos.

jmarzulli@nydailynews.com

Joe Bruno on the Mob – The Great Rocking Chair Scandal

 

Nothing incites the general public more than someone trying to charge for something that was once free. Yet that's exactly what entrepreneur Oscar F. Spate tried to do in the New York City parks in the blistering summer of 1901.

It all started in Central Park on June 22, 1901, when a group of people spotted rows of bright green rocking chairs along the park's mall, near the casino. Usually in this same spot, stood rows of uncomfortable wooden hard benches, so it was a pleasure indeed for the park-goes to sit and rock and enjoy the wondrous summer day.

Suddenly, two broad-shouldered men approached the rocking-chair sitters. They wore identical gray suits and they carried black satchels with straps over their shoulders. The men in gray told the sitters that these were private chairs for rent, and that if they wanted to continue sitting they had to fork over five cents a day for the better seats, and three cents a day for seats that were not in as preferential a position in the park. Some people vacated their seats, but others paid. People who did neither were physically ejected from the seats. When they asked why, the men in gray said, "Them's Mr. Spate's chairs."

This new phenomenon was covered extensively and very contentiously, in the following day's daily New York City newspapers. And the man on the hot seat was the president of the Park Commission – one George C. Clausen.

It seemed that a few days earlier, Clausen had been visited in his official Park Commission office by a man named Oscar F. Spate. Spate seemed amiable enough, and he offered Clausen a proposition Clausen saw no difficulty in accepting. It seemed that Spate said he wanted to place comfortable rocking chairs in the parks throughout New York City. And for the privilege of doing so, Spate offered the city the tidy sum of $500 a year.

"They do this in London and Paris," Spate told Clausen. "And it would undoubtedly be good for New York City."

Clausen saw no problem with Spate's line of thinking, so he readily agreed; albeit without first consulting with the other member of the Park Commission. As a result, Clausen graced Spate with a five-year contract, allowing Spate to place his rocking chairs in all the New York City parks. With the ink still not dry on his contract, Spate immediately ordered 6,000 chairs, costing about $1.50 each. If Spate's projections were correct, these chairs would earn him an estimated $250-$300 a day.

An associate of Spate, who asked a newspaper reporter for anonymity, said that Spate had already invested $30,000 in his new venture. The reporter did the math and he came up with the rocking chairs only costing Spate around $9,500. Pray tell, where did the other $20,500 go?

Spate's spokesman said nothing to enlighten the reporter.

"Well, there's always expenses in things like this, you know," he told the scribe.

The New York City press knew a story when it hit them in the face, so they managed to track down Spate in his offices in the St. James Building, on Broadway and 26th Street, near Madison Square Park. When questioned by the reporters, Spate became indignant.

"I'll put in as many chairs as they will allow," Spate told the reporters. "The attendants who collect the charges are in my pay. They will wear gray uniforms, and each will look after about fifty chairs, from 10 a.m. to 10 p. m. A five-cent ticket entitles the holder to sit in either a five-cent, or a three-cent chair in any park at any time during that day. But the holder of a three-cent chair can only sit in a three-cent chair."

Spate also told the reporters he was doing the city a favor, since charging for the chairs would keep the undesirables (read – the poor) out of the parks, thereby keeping the parks sparkling clean and free of loiterers who leave a mess in their wake.

The outrage from the New York City press and from philanthropists came swift. Randolph Guggenheimer, the president of the Municipal Council, said he "saw no good reason for allowing private parties to occupy park grounds and make money through a scheme like this." The New York City Central Federated Union sent a statement to the press denouncing both Spate and Clausen for their "hideous actions." The New York Tribune wrote in an editorial, "This is only another instance of the hopeless stupidity of the present Park Commission." The New York Journal also wrote an editorial defending the "rights of poor people to sit in public park." However, the New York Times saw no problem in what Spate was doing, as long as "the prices were regulated properly."

Park Commissioner Clausen tried to defend his actions by telling the press that there were always plenty of free benches for people to sit on, except, of course, on Saturdays, Sundays and holidays. The New York Tribune pointed out that those were the days with the biggest demand for seats in the parks.

As this issue became monumental, Spate became more resolute. He ordered more chairs be placed in Central Park, and also in Madison Square Park, which was across the street from his office. Some people paid to sit, and those that didn't, were unceremoniously thrown out of the chairs by Spate's thugs in gray suits.

Things quieted down for a few days, as few people protested paying for the seats. That all changed on Wednesday 26, 1901, when the city's outside temperature rose above 90 degrees. By Saturday the temperature had risen to 94 degrees and nineteen people had perished in New York City due to the insufferable heat conditions. The temperature reached 97 degrees on Sunday, making it the hottest day on record with the Weather Bureau since June of 1871. On Sunday, fifteen more people died, and on Tuesday, with the temperature rising to 99 degrees, two hundred deaths were reported. There were 317 heat-related deaths on Wednesday, which made, in the time period from June 28th to July 4th, a total of 382 heat-related deaths in Manhattan alone, along with 521 hospitalizations for heat prostration. Altogether, in a seven-day period in the metropolitan district of New York City, which included Brooklyn, the Bronx, Queens, and Richmond County, there were 797 deaths and 891 heat prostrations. Things were so bad, that on July 2nd, the city's hospital ambulance drivers worked 24 hours straight with no relief.

With the city in a heat-related frenzy, harried people hurried to the city's parks, which were now ordered by the Park Commission to stay open all night. When people arrived at the parks, they discovered that many of the free benches were no longer there, and the ones that were still present in the parks had been moved into the sun, making them too hot to sit on. However, Spate's green chairs were sitting nicely in the shade, making them more attractive to the people fighting the stifling heat.

On Saturday July 6th , the situation reached a boiling point. A man sat in one of Spate's chairs in Madison Square Park, and he absolutely refused to pay the five cents that Spate's man Thomas Tulley demanded. Finally, Tully pulled the chair from out under the man and bedlam ensued. An angry crowd surrounded Tully and began shouting, "Lynch him! He's Spate's man!"

Tulley fought his way through the crowd and sped across the street to the Fifth Avenue Hotel, where he rushed upstairs and locked himself in a room. The crowd gathered in the hotel lobby for about 30 minutes, when policemen arrived and escorted Tully from the hotel to wherever he called home.

Later that day, with the heat still beating down on the park-goers, another one of Spate's men evicted a boy who was sitting in one of Spate's chairs in Madison Square Park and had refused to pay the necessary five cents. An angry crowd attacked Spate's man, and when a policeman tried to intervene, he was dumped into the park's fountain. Spate's man fled the park in fear, and after he did, delighted people began taking turns sitting in Spate's chairs (without paying of course). When nightfall arrived, several people carried Spate's chairs home with them as trophies to grace their own living rooms.

The following day, Sunday, July 7th, the uneasiness moved to Central Park, where a huge crowd gathered in defiance of Spate and his green rocking chairs. While two of Spate's men guarded Spate's precious chairs, the crowd marched perilously close to the chairs chanting to the tune of "Sweet Annie Moore":

 

We pay no more!

We pay no more!

No more we pay for park

Chairs any more!

Clausen made a break

One summer's day.

And now he ain't

Commissioner no more!

 

As the crowd converged on the chairs, people who had already paid for the right to sit, abandoned the chairs and fled from the park. One of Spate's man quit his job on the spot, and he also fled the park. However, another one of Spate's men continued to try to collect the chair fees. But he quit his job too after an angry old lady jabbed him in the back of the neck with a hairpin.

On Monday July 8th, Madison Square Park was the site of almost constant rioting. A dozen or so boys went from chair to chair, sitting for as long as they pleased, accompanied by an unruly crowd threatening to hang any of Spate's men who tried to collect any fees. A brave and foolhardy Spate employee named Otto Berman slapped one boy in the face. The crowd surrounded Berman and his life was saved by six policemen, who bum-rushed Berman out of the park and into safety. Things had gotten so-out-of-control in Madison Square Park, police reenforcement were called in from the nearby West Thirtieth Street police station.

In the late afternoon, two men occupied two of Spate's chairs and offered a thousand dollars to any of Spate's men who could evict them from the chairs. Two of Spate's men jumped in and tried to collect the reward, but they were promptly beaten to a pulp by the two men, who turned out to featherweight champion of the world Terry McGovern, and former fighter and then-boxing ring announcer Joe Humphreys. The police stormed the park and arrested six rioters, whom they led in cuffs to the Thirtieth Street police station. The policemen and the arrestees were followed by a crowd estimated at 200 people, who were marching in lock step and chanting:

 

Spate! Spate!

Clausen and Spate!

Spate! Spate!

Clausen and Spate!

 

On Tuesday, July 9th, the riots continued in both Madison Square Park and Central Park. However, the New York City police took a different tactic, when they were ordered by Police Commissioner Michael Murphy not to aid any of Spate's men trying to collect fees, and not to arrest any of the rioters, unless court magistrates issued arrest warrants for the individual rioters. At this point, several of the magistrates told the press they would not issue any warrants, which gave the rioters the (wink-wink) go-ahead to do as they pleased with Spate's chairs.

By this time, the president of the Park Commission George C. Clausen was figuratively tearing the hair from his own head. Having first said he could do nothing about the situation without the permission of the rest of the Park Commission, Clausen then reversed himself and said since he was the one who had confirmed Spate's contract, he could also revoke Spate's contract with New York City. Spate quickly answered by by getting a court injunction "restraining Mr. Clausen and the Park Commission from interfering with his valid contract with the City of New York."

In an act of desperation, Spate ordered his men not to place his chairs on the ground, but to pile them in heaps in Madison Square Park and Central Park, and rent them only if they were paid for in advance. However, as soon as someone rented one of Spate's chairs, members of the crowd grabbed the chair and broken it into little pieces.

Soon the crowd, tired of Spate and his chairs, began bombarding Spate's men with rocks and stones, as Spate's men hid behind and under the chairs piled up in heaps. Spate himself entered both parks to try to enforce his contract, but was forced to flee both times, as he was chased with rocks and stones flying past his head.

Finally, on July 11, a hero named Max Radt, the vice-president of the Jefferson State Bank, went into state Supreme Court and got an injunction forbidding Spate and the Park Commission from charging people to sit in Spate's green rocking chairs. Spate, realizing he was a beaten man, promptly put all his chairs in storage. A few days later, Spate announced to the press he was "abandoning his project."

Oscar F. Spate dropped out of sight and was never seen or heard from again in New York City.

A few weeks later, the Parks Commission issued a press release to the New York City newspapers announcing that the president of the Park Commission — George C. Clausen – had used his own personal money to purchase what was left of Spate's green rocking chairs. These chairs were to be placed in parks throughout New York City. On each of these chairs was stenciled the lettering, "For the Exclusive Use of Woman and Children."

And right above the declaration, in large letters was painted the word "FREE."

 

 

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