Joseph Bruno's Blog, page 83

Joe Bruno- The Murder of New York City Police Lieutenant Joseph Petrosino

There is no denying that New York City police Lieutenant Joseph Petrosino was a fine cop — dedicated and brave. Yet, when Petrosino was murdered in Palermo, Sicily in 1909, he made some foolish mistakes that a more intelligent policeman might never have made.

Joseph Petrosino was born in 1860 in Padula, Campania, in the southern tip of Italy, near Naples. When he was a young child, his parents sent him to America, along with a young cousin named Antonio Puppolo, to live with his grandfather. Soon after Petrosino arrived in America, his grandfather was killed in an automobile accident. Petrosino and his cousin Puppolo were briefly sent to an orphanage. However, the judge, feeling sorry for the two young boys, took them into his own home, until Petrosino's parents could come to America. While waiting for his parents to arrive in America (They arrived in America in 1874), Petrosino lived with a politically active Irish family. As a result, Petrosino was given an education, which made him more likely to obtain a good job in America, rather than the other poor Italian immigrants, who were arriving from Italy in droves.

Because of the judge's connections, on October 19, 1883, Petrosino joined the New York City Police Department. Petrosino's mentor was Police Inspector Alexander "Clubber" Williams. Williams took a liking to Petrosino, and Petrosino quickly moved up in the ranks of the New York City Police Department. His promotions were mostly the result of Petrosino's hard work and dedication, and also because of the fact that he was Italian, and could speak the language. That made it possible for Petrosino to infiltrate the Italian immigrant crime factions, that were infiltrating New York City. In 1895, Petrosino was promoted to detective, and assigned to Lower East Side of Manhattan, which was populated by a large contingent of Italian immigrants.

The short, stocky, bull-necked, and barrel-chested Petrosino was a familiar sight on the streets of Little Italy. He was recognizable by his large head and a pockmarked face that never seem to smile. It was said that Petrosino's strength was enormous, and that he was not adverse to beating up criminals, before and after he arrested them.

Petrosino first achieved prominence, when he investigated the infamous "Barrel Murder" of 1903. Although several men were bought the justice for killing a man named

(then stuffing him into a barrel and leaving him on the streets), Petrosino knew the man who ordered the murder was Joe Morello, the top ranking Mafia boss in New York City. Morello's chief henchman was Ignazio Saietta, known on the streets as "Lupo the Wolf." Both men were feared by the Italian immigrants, and the mere mention of their name would cause Italian immigrants to make the sign of the cross in trepidation.

Both Morello and Saietta were notorious counterfeiters, and they used several Italian immigrants to print up loads of two and five dollars bills. These denominations were the most common tender, used more than any other denomination. Saietta owned several grocery stores in downtown Manhattan. He used those grocery stores to export and import counterfeit money to and from Italy; the bills being stuffed into barrels of oil, or in crates of cheese. While this counterfeiting garnered some nice profits for Morello and Saietta, it did not satisfy their lust for blood. Both men decided to use The Black Hand extortion racket, whereby they would send sinister notes to Italian immigrants of some means, threatening them with death, if they did not pay the money demanded. An imprint of a "Black Band" was sinisterly placed at the bottom of each note.

One of the Italians being extorted by the Black Hand was famous opera singer Enrico Caruso. Caruso, was at first given an ultimatum to pay $2000 for his safety. Caruso, knowing the murderous reputation of the Black Hand, agreed to pay that amount. However, before he could pay, Caruso received another letter now demanding $15,000. Caruso immediately took the second letter to Petrosino. Petrosino told Caruso to make arrangements to drop the money off at a prearranged place. When two Italian/American men showed up to pick up the money, Petrosino arrested them on the spot.

Petrosino doggedly investigated Morello and Saietta. His perseverance finally paid off, when in 1901, acting through an informant, he uncovered the infamous "Murder Stables" located at 304, 108th Street in Harlem. Petrosino ordered his men to dig up the stables, and they found over 60 bodies buried there. Saietta was on record as the owner of the stables, but he said that he was only the landlord, and that the buried bodies with a work of his tenants, and not his responsibility. Saietta gave Petrosino several names that were listed as the tenants at 304, 108th Street. All of the surnames were Italian, but none of them could be traced to an actual living person, if they indeed existed at all.

In 1905, New York City Police Commissioner William McAdoo appointed Petrosino the head of the newly formed "Italian Squad." Petrosino, with 27 dedicated men working under him, was able to thwart the Black Handers at almost every turn. From 1905 to 1909, Petrosino and his squad arrested several thousand Italian criminals. More than 500 Italians criminals were sent to prison, and thousands more were deported back to Italy. To show how effective Petrosino and his men were, in 1908 alone, there were 44 bombings, and 70 men arrested for those bombings. In addition, there were 424 Black Hand extortion complaints, and 214 arrests were made as a result of those complaints.

To add injury to insult, Petrosino, after he heard that Saietta had been personally involved in several black hand murder's, confronted Saietta in Saietta's Little Italy grocery store. The New York Times reported, "Petrosino walked up to Lupo and said something in a low voice. Then the detective's fist shot out and Lupo fell to the floor. Petrosino, according to several eyewitnesses, gave Lupo a severe beating."

Saietta's humiliation was the first step in the Black Hand's elimination of Joseph Petrosino. Raising a glass of wine, Saietta told an associate concerning Petrosino, "He has ruined many. Here's a drink to our success here, and the hope of debt to him. It is a pity that it must be done stealthily – that he cannot first be made to suffer as he has made so many others suffer. But he guards his hide so well that it will have to be done quickly."

On February 20, 1909 New York City police Commissioner Theodore Bingham decided to disband the Italian Squad and instead create a "Secret Service" branch of the New York City Police Department. Petrosino was appointed the head of the Secret Service, and was given 14 men, with the directive to "Crush the Black Hand and drive anarchists out of the city."

Soon after, Police Commissioner Bingham sent Petrosino to Palermo, Sicily, to gather information about Italian immigrants in New York City who should be deported back to Italy, because of the crimes they committed while back in their homeland. This mission by Petrosino was supposed to be so secretive, that his fellow officers were told Petrosino was home sick. Inexplicably, as soon as Petrosino departed for Italy, an article appeared in the New York Herald, announcing Petrosino's supposedly secret trip.

Leaving his wife and three-year-old daughter behind, Petrosino traveled aboard the liner Duca di Genova in first class, under the alias Simone Velletri. Petrosino carried only two yellow suitcases with him. To throw people off the track who might know of Petrosino's intentions, the destination of the ship was Genoa, Italy. On the first two days of his voyage, not to come in contact with the other passengers, Petrosino stood alone in his room. When Petrosino finally appeared topside, he told his fellow passengers that he was going to Italy to find a cure for a digestive discomfit. Yet, Petrosino's face was in the New York City papers so often, it was impossible for him not to be recognized. One person who did recognize Petrosino was the ship's purser Carlo Longobardi. Petrosino begged Longobardi not to tell anyone on the ship who Petrosino really was.

There was another mysterious man aboard the ship, who made Petrosino's acquaintance. This man called himself Francesco Delli Bovi. When the ship docked in Genoa, Delli Bovi got off the ship with Petrosino. Delli Bovi vanished without a trace, and it was later determined that his only purpose on the ship was to shadow Petrosino.

Upon arriving in Genoa, Petrosino took the first train available to Rome. In Rome, Petrosino stood at the Hotel Inghilterra. On his first morning there, Petrosino traveled to the United States Embassy to meet Ambassador Lloyd Griscom. The purpose of this meeting was for Petrosino to gather information on over 2000 Italian criminals, now living in New York City, that Petrosino wanted to deported back to Italy.

Petrosino felt safe in Rome, but he would not have felt so safe if he had known that Italian-American newspaper L'Araldo Italiano had run a story detailing Petrosino's Italian trip, saying that his final destination would be Sicily. The information for this newspaper article could only have come from inside the New York City Police Department. This story was picked up by several other newspapers, the most important of which was the New York Herald's European edition. Petrosino finally realized his intentions were now public, when he met two Italian-American newspapermen, whom he had known from New York City, in front of the Press Club on the Piazza San Silvestro. Petrosino told the two newspaper men that his trip was supposed to be a secret, and he implored them not to tell anyone of his arrival.

The two newspaper men agreed, and even offered to show Petrosino the local sites of interest. While he was strolling in Rome with the two newspapermen, Petrosino spotted a poorly dressed man staring at him. Petrosino told the scribes "I know that man." But Petrosino could not remember where he had seen this man's face before. Petrosino followed the man at a safe distance to a nearby post office. At the post office, Petrosino saw the man write a telegram. When the man approached the counter to send the telegram, Petrosino got close enough to hear the man say that the telegram was going to Sicily.

Being suspicious that he was now being tailed, Petrosino decided not to travel to Palermo directly. Instead, he took a train to Naples. In Naples, Petrosino paid the owner of a small ship to take him to Palermo. Petrosino arrived in Palermo on February 28, secure in the feeling that he had not been followed.

This false sense of security caused Petrosino to make several deadly blunders. Although he took a false name at the hotel he stood at in Palermo, Petrosino opened a bank account under his own name at the Banca Commerciale. Petrosino felt so comfortable that he was not being watched, he gave his real name to the waiters who served him at Café Oreto, where he dined nightly. Probably his worst mistake of all was that instead of carrying his gun, he left it in his hotel room hidden in his suitcase.

By March 7, Petrosino had accumulated more than 300 penal certificates that would ensure the deportation of many Italian criminals now living in New York City. Wary of crooked policeman in Palermo, Petrosino finally met with the Commissioner of Police Baldassare Ceola on March 6. Ceola said later that he was not impressed with Petrosino's competence. In a letter to the prefect of Palermo, Ceola said, "I saw at once that Lieutenant Petrosino, to his disadvantage, was not a man of excessive education." Ceola also felt that Petrosino was also not very prudent, since when Ceola offered Petrosino the services of a bodyguard, Petrosino refused the offer.

Back in New York City, Morello and Saietta were plotting Petrosino's demise. In New York City, Petrosino was a hard man to kill, because, as Saietta told Morrelo, "Damn detective. The devil guards himself too thoroughly. When he walks it is with a loaded revolver in his hand covered by a pocket, and two policeman without their blue coats walk near him eyeing everyone."

Morello and Saietta knew that in Palermo things would be very different. They had several friends living in Palermo willing to do dirty work for them. And most importantly, Petrosino had little protection from the local law enforcement, because he reused their assistance, due to his mistrust of their intentions.

Morello sent two of his best killers, Carlo Constantino and Antonio Passananti, to Palermo to track down Petrosino. There they met with the most feared Mafia boss in all of Italy, Don Vito Cascio Ferro. Cascio Ferro had a vendetta against Petrosino too, because in 1902 when Cascio Ferro traveled to New York City to expand his criminal empire, he was forced to flee back to Italy because of heavy pressure from Petrosino.

On Friday night, March 12, 1909, Petrosino went to have his nightly dinner at the Café Oreto. It was raining out and Petrosino was wearing a raincoat, and carrying an umbrella. Petrosino took his usual table, with his back to the wall, so he could see anyone approaching him. According to the waiters, Petrosino was in the middle of his meal, when two strange men strode to his table. These men spoke to Petrosino for only a few moments. Petrosino did not invite them to sit down with him, and he dismissed them with an angry wave of his hand. As soon as the men left the restaurant, Petrosino put three lire on the table for his dinner, and hurried after the two men.

At 8:50 PM, Petrosino was standing in the piazza of the Garibaldi Garden, when three shots rang out. When a passerby arrived a few seconds later, he found Petrosino dead, with bullet holes in his right shoulder, his cheek, and his throat. The throat wound had been the fatal one. In Petrosino's pocket was found a postcard addressed to his wife, which said, "A kiss for you and my little girl, who has spent three months far from her daddy."

Reports later said that three men were involved in Petrosino's murder. Beside the two men who confronted Petrosino at the Café Oreto, the third man was believed to be Don Vito Cascio Ferro himself. When questioned by the police, Cascio Ferro said he was having dinner at the home at a Sicilian member of the Italian Parliament at the time of Petrosino's death. However, there were reports that Cascio Ferro had slipped quietly away during dinner, long enough to take part in Petrosino's murder, then slip back to the dinner party, before anyone was the wiser.

The killing of Police Lieutenant Joseph Petrosino sent tremors throughout the streets of New York City. Immediately, Police Commissioner Bingham was fired, because of the leak inside the police department, which led to the stories in the newspapers detailing Petrosino's travel to Italy. It is estimated that, because of Petrosino's demise, thousands of Italian criminals were not deported back to Italy, and they continued to terrorize the streets of New York City for decades to come.

It took three weeks for Petrosino's embalmed body to return to New York City. The funeral mass was on April 9, at the old St. Patrick's Cathedral on Mulberry Street, near Houston Street. The day had been declared a public holiday, and over 20,000 people gathered in the streets to watch the hearse, carrying Petrosino's body, ride from the church to Calvary Cemetery in Queens. The hearse was accompanied by 1000 policeman 2000 schoolchildren and uniformed representatives from 60 Italian associations.

Several films have been made based on the life of Police Lieutenant Joseph Petrosino. They included a silent movie made in 1912 called "The Adventures of Lieutenant Petrosino." In 1960, Ernest Borgnine portrayed Petrosino in the film, "Pay or Die." And Lionel Stander also played Petrosino in the 1973 movie, "The Black Hand."

The Murder of New York City Police Lieutenant Joseph Petrosino

There is no denying that New York City police Lieutenant Joseph Petrosino was a fine cop — dedicated and brave. Yet, when Petrosino was murdered in Palermo, Sicily in 1909, he made some foolish mistakes that a more intelligent policeman might never have made.

Joseph Petrosino was born in 1860 in Padula, Campania, in the southern tip of Italy, near Naples. When he was a young child, his parents sent him to America, along with a young cousin named Antonio Puppolo, to live with his grandfather. Soon after Petrosino arrived in America, his grandfather was killed in an automobile accident. Petrosino and his cousin Puppolo were briefly sent to an orphanage. However, the judge, feeling sorry for the two young boys, took them into his own home, until Petrosino's parents could come to America. While waiting for his parents to arrive in America (They arrived in America in 1874), Petrosino lived with a politically active Irish family. As a result, Petrosino was given an education, which made him more likely to obtain a good job in America, rather than the other poor Italian immigrants, who were arriving from Italy in droves.

Because of the judge's connections, on October 19, 1883, Petrosino joined the New York City Police Department. Petrosino's mentor was Police Inspector Alexander "Clubber" Williams. Williams took a liking to Petrosino, and Petrosino quickly moved up in the ranks of the New York City Police Department. His promotions were mostly the result of Petrosino's hard work and dedication, and also because of the fact that he was Italian, and could speak the language. That made it possible for Petrosino to infiltrate the Italian immigrant crime factions, that were infiltrating New York City. In 1895, Petrosino was promoted to detective, and assigned to Lower East Side of Manhattan, which was populated by a large contingent of Italian immigrants.

The short, stocky, bull-necked, and barrel-chested Petrosino was a familiar sight on the streets of Little Italy. He was recognizable by his large head and a pockmarked face that never seem to smile. It was said that Petrosino's strength was enormous, and that he was not adverse to beating up criminals, before and after he arrested them.

Petrosino first achieved prominence, when he investigated the infamous "Barrel Murder" of 1903. Although several men were bought the justice for killing a man named

(then stuffing him into a barrel and leaving him on the streets), Petrosino knew the man who ordered the murder was Joe Morello, the top ranking Mafia boss in New York City. Morello's chief henchman was Ignazio Saietta, known on the streets as "Lupo the Wolf." Both men were feared by the Italian immigrants, and the mere mention of their name would cause Italian immigrants to make the sign of the cross in trepidation.

Both Morello and Saietta were notorious counterfeiters, and they used several Italian immigrants to print up loads of two and five dollars bills. These denominations were the most common tender, used more than any other denomination. Saietta owned several grocery stores in downtown Manhattan. He used those grocery stores to export and import counterfeit money to and from Italy; the bills being stuffed into barrels of oil, or in crates of cheese. While this counterfeiting garnered some nice profits for Morello and Saietta, it did not satisfy their lust for blood. Both men decided to use The Black Hand extortion racket, whereby they would send sinister notes to Italian immigrants of some means, threatening them with death, if they did not pay the money demanded. An imprint of a "Black Band" was sinisterly placed at the bottom of each note.

One of the Italians being extorted by the Black Hand was famous opera singer Enrico Caruso. Caruso, was at first given an ultimatum to pay $2000 for his safety. Caruso, knowing the murderous reputation of the Black Hand, agreed to pay that amount. However, before he could pay, Caruso received another letter now demanding $15,000. Caruso immediately took the second letter to Petrosino. Petrosino told Caruso to make arrangements to drop the money off at a prearranged place. When two Italian/American men showed up to pick up the money, Petrosino arrested them on the spot.

Petrosino doggedly investigated Morello and Saietta. His perseverance finally paid off, when in 1901, acting through an informant, he uncovered the infamous "Murder Stables" located at 304, 108th Street in Harlem. Petrosino ordered his men to dig up the stables, and they found over 60 bodies buried there. Saietta was on record as the owner of the stables, but he said that he was only the landlord, and that the buried bodies with a work of his tenants, and not his responsibility. Saietta gave Petrosino several names that were listed as the tenants at 304, 108th Street. All of the surnames were Italian, but none of them could be traced to an actual living person, if they indeed existed at all.

In 1905, New York City Police Commissioner William McAdoo appointed Petrosino the head of the newly formed "Italian Squad." Petrosino, with 27 dedicated men working under him, was able to thwart the Black Handers at almost every turn. From 1905 to 1909, Petrosino and his squad arrested several thousand Italian criminals. More than 500 Italians criminals were sent to prison, and thousands more were deported back to Italy. To show how effective Petrosino and his men were, in 1908 alone, there were 44 bombings, and 70 men arrested for those bombings. In addition, there were 424 Black Hand extortion complaints, and 214 arrests were made as a result of those complaints.

To add injury to insult, Petrosino, after he heard that Saietta had been personally involved in several black hand murder's, confronted Saietta in Saietta's Little Italy grocery store. The New York Times reported, "Petrosino walked up to Lupo and said something in a low voice. Then the detective's fist shot out and Lupo fell to the floor. Petrosino, according to several eyewitnesses, gave Lupo a severe beating."

Saietta's humiliation was the first step in the Black Hand's elimination of Joseph Petrosino. Raising a glass of wine, Saietta told an associate concerning Petrosino, "He has ruined many. Here's a drink to our success here, and the hope of debt to him. It is a pity that it must be done stealthily – that he cannot first be made to suffer as he has made so many others suffer. But he guards his hide so well that it will have to be done quickly."

On February 20, 1909 New York City police Commissioner Theodore Bingham decided to disband the Italian Squad and instead create a "Secret Service" branch of the New York City Police Department. Petrosino was appointed the head of the Secret Service, and was given 14 men, with the directive to "Crush the Black Hand and drive anarchists out of the city."

Soon after, Police Commissioner Bingham sent Petrosino to Palermo, Sicily, to gather information about Italian immigrants in New York City who should be deported back to Italy, because of the crimes they committed while back in their homeland. This mission by Petrosino was supposed to be so secretive, that his fellow officers were told Petrosino was home sick. Inexplicably, as soon as Petrosino departed for Italy, an article appeared in the New York Herald, announcing Petrosino's supposedly secret trip.

Leaving his wife and three-year-old daughter behind, Petrosino traveled aboard the liner Duca di Genova in first class, under the alias Simone Velletri. Petrosino carried only two yellow suitcases with him. To throw people off the track who might know of Petrosino's intentions, the destination of the ship was Genoa, Italy. On the first two days of his voyage, not to come in contact with the other passengers, Petrosino stood alone in his room. When Petrosino finally appeared topside, he told his fellow passengers that he was going to Italy to find a cure for a digestive discomfit. Yet, Petrosino's face was in the New York City papers so often, it was impossible for him not to be recognized. One person who did recognize Petrosino was the ship's purser Carlo Longobardi. Petrosino begged Longobardi not to tell anyone on the ship who Petrosino really was.

There was another mysterious man aboard the ship, who made Petrosino's acquaintance. This man called himself Francesco Delli Bovi. When the ship docked in Genoa, Delli Bovi got off the ship with Petrosino. Delli Bovi vanished without a trace, and it was later determined that his only purpose on the ship was to shadow Petrosino.

Upon arriving in Genoa, Petrosino took the first train available to Rome. In Rome, Petrosino stood at the Hotel Inghilterra. On his first morning there, Petrosino traveled to the United States Embassy to meet Ambassador Lloyd Griscom. The purpose of this meeting was for Petrosino to gather information on over 2000 Italian criminals, now living in New York City, that Petrosino wanted to deported back to Italy.

Petrosino felt safe in Rome, but he would not have felt so safe if he had known that Italian-American newspaper L'Araldo Italiano had run a story detailing Petrosino's Italian trip, saying that his final destination would be Sicily. The information for this newspaper article could only have come from inside the New York City Police Department. This story was picked up by several other newspapers, the most important of which was the New York Herald's European edition. Petrosino finally realized his intentions were now public, when he met two Italian-American newspapermen, whom he had known from New York City, in front of the Press Club on the Piazza San Silvestro. Petrosino told the two newspaper men that his trip was supposed to be a secret, and he implored them not to tell anyone of his arrival.

The two newspaper men agreed, and even offered to show Petrosino the local sites of interest. While he was strolling in Rome with the two newspapermen, Petrosino spotted a poorly dressed man staring at him. Petrosino told the scribes "I know that man." But Petrosino could not remember where he had seen this man's face before. Petrosino followed the man at a safe distance to a nearby post office. At the post office, Petrosino saw the man write a telegram. When the man approached the counter to send the telegram, Petrosino got close enough to hear the man say that the telegram was going to Sicily.

Being suspicious that he was now being tailed, Petrosino decided not to travel to Palermo directly. Instead, he took a train to Naples. In Naples, Petrosino paid the owner of a small ship to take him to Palermo. Petrosino arrived in Palermo on February 28, secure in the feeling that he had not been followed.

This false sense of security caused Petrosino to make several deadly blunders. Although he took a false name at the hotel he stood at in Palermo, Petrosino opened a bank account under his own name at the Banca Commerciale. Petrosino felt so comfortable that he was not being watched, he gave his real name to the waiters who served him at Café Oreto, where he dined nightly. Probably his worst mistake of all was that instead of carrying his gun, he left it in his hotel room hidden in his suitcase.

By March 7, Petrosino had accumulated more than 300 penal certificates that would ensure the deportation of many Italian criminals now living in New York City. Wary of crooked policeman in Palermo, Petrosino finally met with the Commissioner of Police Baldassare Ceola on March 6. Ceola said later that he was not impressed with Petrosino's competence. In a letter to the prefect of Palermo, Ceola said, "I saw at once that Lieutenant Petrosino, to his disadvantage, was not a man of excessive education." Ceola also felt that Petrosino was also not very prudent, since when Ceola offered Petrosino the services of a bodyguard, Petrosino refused the offer.

Back in New York City, Morello and Saietta were plotting Petrosino's demise. In New York City, Petrosino was a hard man to kill, because, as Saietta told Morrelo, "Damn detective. The devil guards himself too thoroughly. When he walks it is with a loaded revolver in his hand covered by a pocket, and two policeman without their blue coats walk near him eyeing everyone."

Morello and Saietta knew that in Palermo things would be very different. They had several friends living in Palermo willing to do dirty work for them. And most importantly, Petrosino had little protection from the local law enforcement, because he reused their assistance, due to his mistrust of their intentions.

Morello sent two of his best killers, Carlo Constantino and Antonio Passananti, to Palermo to track down Petrosino. There they met with the most feared Mafia boss in all of Italy, Don Vito Cascio Ferro. Cascio Ferro had a vendetta against Petrosino too, because in 1902 when Cascio Ferro traveled to New York City to expand his criminal empire, he was forced to flee back to Italy because of heavy pressure from Petrosino.

On Friday night, March 12, 1909, Petrosino went to have his nightly dinner at the Café Oreto. It was raining out and Petrosino was wearing a raincoat, and carrying an umbrella. Petrosino took his usual table, with his back to the wall, so he could see anyone approaching him. According to the waiters, Petrosino was in the middle of his meal, when two strange men strode to his table. These men spoke to Petrosino for only a few moments. Petrosino did not invite them to sit down with him, and he dismissed them with an angry wave of his hand. As soon as the men left the restaurant, Petrosino put three lire on the table for his dinner, and hurried after the two men.

At 8:50 PM, Petrosino was standing in the piazza of the Garibaldi Garden, when three shots rang out. When a passerby arrived a few seconds later, he found Petrosino dead, with bullet holes in his right shoulder, his cheek, and his throat. The throat wound had been the fatal one. In Petrosino's pocket was found a postcard addressed to his wife, which said, "A kiss for you and my little girl, who has spent three months far from her daddy."

Reports later said that three men were involved in Petrosino's murder. Beside the two men who confronted Petrosino at the Café Oreto, the third man was believed to be Don Vito Cascio Ferro himself. When questioned by the police, Cascio Ferro said he was having dinner at the home at a Sicilian member of the Italian Parliament at the time of Petrosino's death. However, there were reports that Cascio Ferro had slipped quietly away during dinner, long enough to take part in Petrosino's murder, then slip back to the dinner party, before anyone was the wiser.

The killing of Police Lieutenant Joseph Petrosino sent tremors throughout the streets of New York City. Immediately, Police Commissioner Bingham was fired, because of the leak inside the police department, which led to the stories in the newspapers detailing Petrosino's travel to Italy. It is estimated that, because of Petrosino's demise, thousands of Italian criminals were not deported back to Italy, and they continued to terrorize the streets of New York City for decades to come.

It took three weeks for Petrosino's embalmed body to return to New York City. The funeral mass was on April 9, at the old St. Patrick's Cathedral on Mulberry Street, near Houston Street. The day had been declared a public holiday, and over 20,000 people gathered in the streets to watch the hearse, carrying Petrosino's body, ride from the church to Calvary Cemetery in Queens. The hearse was accompanied by 1000 policeman 2000 schoolchildren and uniformed representatives from 60 Italian associations.

Several films have been made based on the life of Police Lieutenant Joseph Petrosino. They included a silent movie made in 1912 called "The Adventures of Lieutenant Petrosino." In 1960, Ernest Borgnine portrayed Petrosino in the film, "Pay or Die." And Lionel Stander also played Petrosino in the 1973 movie, "The Black Hand."

Leave the Gun, Take The Giuliani

This article, written by Edward Ludvigsen, appeared Tuesday, July 26 on NYC Mob Tour

http://nycmobtour.wordpress.com/

Leave the Gun, Take The Giuliani

Certainly no stranger to self promotion, gangsters, or just hamming it the hell up— former prosecutor, mayor, misunderstood drag performer, and savior of NYC during 9/11 ( (just ask him, he'll tell you), Rudy Giuliani will be hosting "Mob Week" on AMC from August 1 through 7. Giuliani is apparently a big Godfather fan, which will be great for him as AMC is playing the films in exhausting rotation over the course of the week. Over 300 hours of The Godfather, says quick math. Is that too much Abe Vigoda, or just enough to hook you for life? Food for thought.

One supposes that the former mayor of New York City is a sensible choice for a celebrity host, as he is very familiar with the organized crime landscape of the city. Notes The Gothamist:

Of course, Giuliani has always been a family guy—even when he was raiding bars during his mayorship, it's long believed that he never touched Kokie's—Williamsburg's notorious members-only cocaine den—because it was owned by his friend's brother (it was raided and shut down when Bloomberg came into office).

Breezing through AMC's "Mob Week" schedule reveals a roster of all the expected biggies: Godfather, Goodfellas, Donnie Brasco, Untouchables, Scarface. More Pacino and DeNiro than you can shake a (bread)stick at. The Juror, curiously, is also in heavy rotation. Affordable syndication?

The only two films that stand out as being a little unexpected are Machine Gun Kelly, for which you will have to tune in at 4AM on August 2 to see, and . The latter is a funny little gem from 1993 starring DeNiro (playing against type), . It gets a few more time slots and may be easier to catch. It would have been nice to see a little more variety and unexpected fare within AMC's gangland film festival. The Freshman, Mean Streets, and The Pope of Greenwich Village all spring to mind.

Got any favorite mobster movies that may NOT be amongst the expected family of classics? Let us know in the comments!

King Rat Whitey Bulger Gets a Free Court-Appointed Lawyer.

Talk about adding insult to injury. After being caught after 16 years on the lam, Whitey Bulger had the audacity to ask for a free lawyer, because he is supposedly indigent. And some dopey Massachusetts judge, named Judge Marianne Bowler, gave him one. On the people's dollar. And a top-notch attorney at that, named Jay Carney.

How lucky can a man get?

Yeah, right. This was the same man who had safety deposit boxes filled with cash stashed all over the world. When he was captured in Santa Monica, the FBI found $800,000 in cash hidden inside the walls of Bulger's condo. If anyone thinks that was all the money Bulger had left in this world, I'll like to sell them the Golden Gate Bridge.

And don't forget, this is the same guy who was an FBI informant for more than 30 years, dating back to the early 1960′s. Bulger ratted out his enemies, and he even ratted out his friends, when he deemed it necessary for him to keep on raking in the cash. As the leader of the Winter Hill Mob, Bulger ordered many killings, and he gleefully participated in a few himself, including the mutilation of a woman, who was the ex-girlfriend of his former partner Steve Flemmi, whom Bulger also ratted out.

Real nice guy, huh.

Well court-appointed lawyer, or no court-appointed lawyer, the 81-year old Bulger will never see the outside of a jail cell again.

Thank God for small favors.

The following article was posted on the Boston Globe website on June 30th, 2011.

'Whitey' Bulger to get court-appointed lawyer

By Milton J. Valencia, Maria Cramer, John R. Ellement, and Martin Finucane, Globe Staff

Reputed crime boss disembarks from a Coast Guard helicopter at Logan Airport before being transported via SUV to the federal courthouse, in this video shot by NECN-TV and WHDH-TV.

James "Whitey" Bulger, the alleged former crime boss from Boston who eluded the FBI for 16 years and had more than $800,000 in his apartment when he was arrested in California, will get a court-appointed attorney, a federal magistrate judge ruled this afternoon.

"I find at this time that the defendant is unable to retain counsel," said US Magistrate Judge Marianne Bowler.

Prominent defense attorney J.W. Carney Jr., a veteran of many high-profile murder cases, was appointed to represent Bulger.

"I'm Jay Carney. My pleasure," Carney said as he introduced himself and shook Bulger's hand in the courtroom.

Bowler found that Bulger did not have the financial resources to pay for his own attorney. She also said that she knew of no legal requirement that a defendant's relatives pay for his defense.

Bulger's brother, William, is the former president of the Massachusetts state Senate and a former president of the University of Massachusetts. He is now drawing a sizeable state pension.

Taxpayers are "paying his brother's salary, and now we've got to pay his … defense," said Steven Davis, the brother of Debra Davis, one of James Bulger's alleged victims.

"Our Constitution guarantees every defendant the right to a fair trial, and we're going to see that he gets it," Carney said after the hearing.

Carney is known for taking tough cases. His current clients include Tarek Mehanna, an alleged terrorist from Sudbury. Over the years, he has also made headlines representing John C. Salvi III, who attacked a Brookline abortion clinic in 1994, and Kenneth Seguin, a Holliston man who killed his entire family in 1992.

Though many thought he would never be captured, James Bulger, 81, was arrested last week in oceanside Santa Monica, Calif., where he had been living a quiet life on the lam with his girlfriend, Catherine Greig, 60.

The decision by Bowler came during the second of two hearings in federal court today in the Bulger case, which has riveted the city, revived the pain of victims' relatives, and generated widespread headlines.

In the first hearing, US District Court Chief Judge Mark Wolf allowed prosecutors to drop 1995 charges against Bulger in favor of charges brought in 2000 that allege that Bulger played a role in 19 murders.

"It is in the public interest that this case be dismissed," Wolf said. "I find that the US attorney has made a good faith decision to dismiss this case."

Prosecutors had said that the second case was stronger, involved more serious charges, and posed a better chance of bringing justice to the victims' relatives.

Bulger made a dramatic entrance today in Boston when he disembarked from a US Coast Guard helicopter at Logan International Airport. The helicopter had brought him from the Plymouth jail, rather than the usual caravan of speeding vehicles.

Video shot by NECN-TV and WHDH-TV showed a handcuffed Bulger, in an orange prison uniform, being helped out of the helicopter by a camouflage-clad officer armed with an assault rifle. Bulger, who appeared to be wearing ear protectors, crouched a little as he passed under the helicopter's rotors toward an SUV waiting a short distance away. The alleged vicious gangster stood patiently by the open door of an SUV before being placed in it.

Early in the afternoon, as the courtroom doors opened, officers allowed William Bulger and another brother, John, in first.

Steven Davis, 53, whose sister James Bulger allegedly strangled in 1981, immediately protested.

"Hey, why is he getting in first?" Davis said, and cursed as officers tried to calm him down.

"It's his brother," one of the officers responded. "If he was your brother, I'd let youse in, too."

After the first hearing, Davis said he was furious that William Bulger went in before anyone else.

"They had no right putting him in front of the victims' families," Davis said.

Willliam and John Bulger sat next to each other. James Bulger winked at his two brothers while waiting for proceedings to begin.

By the end of the day, it was clear the hours of complex legal wrangling had taken its toll.

"I just wish they'd found him dead and we didn't have to start over," said John Davis, 62, another one of Debra Davis's brothers.

After the second hearing, Bulger was handcuffed as a US marshal prepared to take him back into custody. Steven Davis began clapping loudly. A court officer quickly chastised him.

Tommy Donahue, son of murder victim Michael Donahue, said he could not blame Davis for becoming emotional. The families have waited for years for some sort of justice, he said.

"It's a long process," Donahue said, standing outside the courtroom. "We have a long road ahead of us, but we're closer than we've ever been before."

Bulger allegedly presided over a murderous reign in the Boston underworld, while being protected as a prized FBI informant.

He fled just before Christmas 1994 after his corrupt former FBI handler, John J. Connolly Jr., warned him that he was about to be indicted. Bulger and his longtime sidekick, Stephen "the Rifleman'' Flemmi, were indicted in January 1995, along with Francis "Cadillac Frank'' Salemme, then boss of the New England Mafia, and four other men on racketeering and extortion charges. Bulger, Flemmi, and Salemme were accused of running illegal rackets in Greater Boston and extorting money from bookmakers.

Bulger became the target of a worldwide manhunt. Flemmi tried to get the case dismissed by revealing that he and Bulger were FBI informants who provided the bureau with information about local Mafia leaders, including Salemme.

But the defense backfired. Several of Bulger's former associates began cooperating with investigators, leading them to secret graves of homicide victims and exposing Bulger's cozy relationship with the FBI.

The former associates' assistance led to the 2000 indictment, which charged Bulger and Flemmi with 19 murders. Flemmi pleaded guilty to participating in 10 of those slayings and is serving a life sentence.

Mob Jailbird Gives Advice to Start-up Businesses

If the premise of this book wasn't so silly, it would be unbearably funny. Imagine, a mob guy giving pointers to people who are starting up new businesses, such as hedge funds.

What's next, Joe "Big Rat Joey" Massino writing a book on honesty and loyalty?

One piece of advice Louis Ferrante, former mob guy (if that's possible), who spent 8 years in the slammer for his crimes, gives in his "Mob Rules – what the Mafia can teach the legitimate businessman," is "Learn to keep your mouth shut."

Well, no kidding Louie. In the mob you open your mouth too much, you wind up on the wrong side of the grass. Guys have been killed just for mentioning someone's name (usually a boss) in public.

Another maxim "Louie the Lug" promulgates in his book is, "Build trust with your business partner?"

Great advice, but in Louie's line of work (former line of work??), building trust is the first step in whacking someone out. Build trust, get real close to your victim, and keep patting him on the back until a bullet hole appears between your fingers.

Methinks Louie is scamming anyone who is dumb enough to pay $25.95 for a hardcover version of his book, and a whopping $12.95 for a Kindle version. Steven King doesn't charge that much for a Kindle version of his book, and my book, "Mobsters, Gangs, Crooks and Other Creeps-Volume 1 – New York City" sells for a whopping 99 cents on Amazon Kindle.

Still, you've got to give Louie credit. True to the code of the streets, Louie obviously believes, "You'll never lose money underestimating the intelligence of the public."

The feature below was posted on the website "Mafia Today" and originally appeared on wallstreetandtech.com

What the Mob Can Teach A Start-Up Hedge Fund

-Louis Ferrante – Mob Rules author. –

From Gambino family mobster to business consultant:

This is the unusual career path followed by Louis Ferrante, a 44-year-old native of Queens, NY, who after spending 8 years in jail for Mafia-related crimes has become a successful writer and is now doling out advice to legitimate start-ups.

Ferrante has just published a book called "Mob Rules – what the Mafia can teach the legitimate businessman." Building trust, leadership skills and avoiding office politics (who knew the mob is aware of something as mundane as office politics?) are all part of Ferrante's expertise. Connie Loizos, a contributor to PEHub, a Thomson Reuters publication, interviewed Ferrante.

Here are a few classic pieces of advice I have gleaned from her interview, which can be applied to hedge fund managers, venture capitalists, anyone starting up a business, and probably any top Wall Street executive who is looking to maximize their "people and business skills".

1. Build trust with a business partner.

"You have to spend time with people outside of work. You can pull a heist with someone or work on Wall Street with them every day, but to really get more insight into a guy, grab dinner with him; go on vacation together. You have to get to know someone on a more intimate level. I think about the guys who became rats, who became cooperating informants, and there was always something I saw in them but didn't believe or explore at the time — something where I should have said, 'Whoa, that's a little weird.' "

2. Trust your instincts.

"You can also ask his neighbors, if you really want to know somebody. (Laughs.)"

3. Avoid office politics.

"I learned that through a father figure, Artie the Hairdo, an old-timer who was really from the old school. When Sammy (Gravano) was first appointed the underboss of the (Gambino) family, I asked Artie what he thought. He was eating dinner, and he just paused, gave me a stare and kept eating. He obviously had distaste for Sammy, and he was basically communicating to me not to get too deeply involved with him. But Artie himself pretty much stayed away from Sammy, and unlike a lot of others who took sides and got killed, he died of natural causes."

4. Use mnemonics to impress your business colleagues by remembering hundreds of names.

"We all did it. It was this untaught, unwritten thing you did. It's how you remembered 500 people: Fat Franky and Skinny Franky and Franky Flippers, who goes diving once in a while with his wife. You never forget a name that way.

When I was in the Mob, I could tell you how much 50 people owed me and on what day they owed it. I had to remember it all because I couldn't write it down in case I got pinched. I will tell you that the more you rely on your mind, the more your mind rises to the occasion."

5. Know when someone is wasting your time.

"It's so easy. You know if someone has a real interest in what you're talking about. You just sense it. If I call a guy and I ask, 'Did I catch you at a bad time?' and he says, 'No, no, no, Louie, what's going on?' I know he's interested. If I call him and he says, 'Sorry, you caught me at a bad time,' I don't' want to talk with that guy again. He's done. He's off my Rolodex. On the street, too, you get a sense of a guy in a heartbeat."

6. Have an inside guy– i.e consider having a mole at a competing startup – although obviously this one is to be avoided if you're a trader and are going to risk insider trading charges.

"It looks underhanded, but it's not. Look, it's a competitive world, and the best tips I had came from inside guys. It was, 'I'm working at this place, and every Friday the payroll is so much money and nobody is watching it.' Sometimes, people just wanted to do me a favor. Other guys, I'd go to and say, 'I have an end (a bonus) for you.'

If you're just willing to listen to people, you can glean a lot of information without having to pointedly ask: 'Give me the dirt.' Just go hang out with somebody and listen. Everyone is willing to talk if you're friendly, especially if you're in a similar business. They want to be your friend, and they'll tell you stuff, and that inside information can be crucial, like: 'This is the rock-bottom number our company will take.'

7. Don't talk too much.

"In a company, whoever has to know should know, but only as much as they need to know. You can't control who knows your information entirely. People just can't keep their mouths shut. It's just human nature. But you can limit your vulnerability."

When John Gotti did the hit on Paul Castellano [head of the Gambino family before Gotti took over], he didn't ask the families. He didn't tell the hit men what they were doing until they were doing it, because all you need is one guy talking, and John's dead by the end of the week. Instead, the night of the hit, he said to them, 'Put on these Russian hats and these trench coats. We're taking somebody out.'"

Illegal Sale of Rice Wine Thrives in Chinese Enclaves

What's going on here??

According to the following story in the New York Times, written on July 19th, and re-printed on NYC Mob Tour-http://nycmobtour.com, Fujianese Chinese are making their own rice wine and selling it in the stores in Chinatown — my old neighborhood — illegally!!

No liquor license! No payee no taxeee!!! No go to jaileee!!!

If the Italians/Americans, who live in Little Italy, ever tried making their own wine, and selling it in their Italian grocery stores, the Feds would hit them with a Rico case, at the minimum. Maybe even threaten them with deportation too, even though they were born in this freakin' country.

There's a double standard in place in the Chinatown/Little Italy area. Always has been.

This double standard also occurs concerning the sale of fireworks. During the period before the 4th of July, sure Italian/Americans sell fireworks illegally, on and around Canal Street. And sure, some of them get busted, fined and put into jail (As a kid, I sold fireworks just to make a little pocket money for the summer. Most of us kids did).

But in Chinatown during Chinese New Years, the Chinese revelers can throw a pack of lit fireworks right into your face (this happened to me once, and I decked the dolt who did it), and the police just look the other way, like it never happened.

Why??

The excuse that always has been given is, "Well, it's part of their tradition."

I say "Baloney!"

In this instance, the New York City Police, under the direction of the New York State Liquor Authority, should confiscate the illegal rice wine, fine, or maybe even arrest the sellers, and the people who make the wine, if they can ever be found (Chinese people in Chinatown are more tight lipped than the old Mafia).

This is a no brainer, and I don't care how many votes certain politicians lose on election day.

As for the rice wine itself, I rather drink cat urine.

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/07/20/nyr...

Illegal Sale of Rice Wine Thrives in Chinese Enclaves

The restaurant looks like so many others in the roiling heart of Chinatown, in Lower Manhattan: a garish sign in Chinese and English, slapdash photos of featured dishes taped to the windows, and extended Chinese families crowding around tables, digging into communal plates of steamed fish, fried tofu and sautéed watercress.

But ask a waitress the right question and she will disappear into the back, returning with shot glasses and something not on the menu: a suspiciously unmarked plastic container containing a reddish liquid.

It is homemade rice wine — "Chinatown's best," the restaurant owner asserts. It is also illegal.

In the city's Chinese enclaves, there is a booming black market for homemade rice wine, representing one of the more curious outbreaks of bootlegging in the city since Prohibition. The growth reflects a stark change in the longstanding pattern of immigration from China.

In recent years, as immigration from the coastal province of Fujian has surged, the Fujianese population has come to dominate the Chinatowns of Lower Manhattan and Sunset Park, Brooklyn, and has increased rapidly in other Chinese enclaves like the one in Flushing, Queens.

These newcomers have brought with them a robust tradition of making — and hawking — homemade rice wine. In these Fujianese neighborhoods, right under the noses of the authorities, restaurateurs brew rice wine in their kitchens and sell it proudly to customers. Vendors openly sell it on street corners, and quart-size containers of it are stacked in plain view in grocery store refrigerators, alongside other delicacies like jellyfish and duck eggs.

The sale of homemade rice wine — which is typically between 10 and 18 percent alcohol, about the same as wine from grapes — violates a host of local, state and federal laws that govern the commercial production and sale of alcohol, but the authorities have apparently not cracked down on it.

A spokesman for the New York State Liquor Authority said the agency had recently received complaints about illegal Chinese rice wine and was looking into them, though he offered no further details. New York police officials said the department had never investigated the trade.

The Fujianese wine sellers are reminiscent of an earlier group of immigrant entrepreneurs: During Prohibition, Jewish and Italian immigrants were among New York City's most active bootleggers. But several ethnologists and sociologists said that these days, there did not seem to be an equivalent illegal brew — made and sold in New York — among any other immigrant population.

The rice wine, which is almost always a shade of red, is the result of a fairly simple fermentation process involving glutinous rice, red yeast rice and water. Its taste varies from producer to producer and, of course, from drinker to drinker. The best versions recall sherry or Japanese sake. The worst, vinegar.

"Don't underestimate this alcohol," cautioned a winemaker in Chinatown, who would give only his surname, Zhu. "You'll get drunk."

In Fujian Province, people make rice wine in their houses, drinking it themselves, serving it to guests or using it in cooking. In New York City, many Fujianese immigrants do the same — a legal practice as long as the product does not enter the stream of commerce.

There are about 317,000 Chinese immigrants in New York City, according to census data, but that figure is widely regarded as an undercount. Zai Liang, a sociology professor at the University at Albany who has studied the tightly knit Fujianese population in New York, estimated that as many as 40 percent of the Chinese who immigrated to New York in the past two decades were from Fujian Province.

The underground trade in rice wine is foreign even to many Chinese from other provinces.

Since rice wine can go bad after excessive exposure to heat, it is widely regarded as a winter beverage, and vendors flourish in Fujianese neighborhoods during the colder months. But even in the depth of summer, a glass of it is never hard to find.

Indeed, many Fujianese are more than happy to talk about rice wine, explaining how it is made, describing its delights and extolling its virtues as an all-around elixir.

"If you drink this, you'll stay young," explained Chen Dandan, a retired garment factory worker from Fujian Province. "It helps you with your circulation."

"If you drink this, you'll live to an old age," said Lin Yong, a long-distance bus driver who lives in Flushing. He said his grandfather, who died several years ago at the age of 99, lived by a simple dictum: It is all right to forgo a meal, but it is not all right to forgo a glass of rice wine.

Many said that even though legal rice wine is commercially available, they prefer homemade brews because they are said to have fewer additives.

But finding consumers is one thing. Tracking down moonshiners is another.

Over the past several weeks, interviews with dozens of Chinese store owners, restaurateurs and street vendors yielded prevarications, obfuscations and otherwise fraught conversations.

Nearly all said they were simply selling a product that others had made. Some spoke mysteriously of unnamed wholesalers who materialized once a week with supplies. Others seemed less concerned about the legality of the product and more concerned about the competition.

"What if you were to learn how to make it and set up shop across the street?" asked one restaurateur in Flushing.

In some places, it appears, anyone can buy bootlegged rice wine, as long as you know what to ask for and hand over money, usually between $3 and $5 a quart. But in other places, a non-Chinese person, even one fluent in Chinese, might not get far.

When the manager was asked for rice wine at a store on Market Street in Manhattan's Chinatown, fear swept over her face, and she said she did not have any. What about those unmarked containers sitting in a soft-drink refrigerator next to the Coca-Cola and Gatorade? "Not for sale!" she blurted.

At a store on Allen Street, a cashier first said she did not stock rice wine and went back to watching a video on a laptop. But when it was pointed out to her that several quarts of rice wine were stacked on the counter next to the cash register, she looked flustered and exclaimed: "It's for cooking, for sautéeing!" Then: "It's only for the Fujianese!"

A vendor below the overpass of the Manhattan Bridge on East Broadway said he did not know who had supplied him with the rice wine stacked on metal shelves on the sidewalk. But several containers were affixed with a small label for a Fujianese food supplier on Catherine Street.

At that address, a Fujianese man wearing an apron came to the unmarked door. Shown the label, he said it was the wrong address. Then he said that it was the right address, but that the business on the label had moved.

Finally, he admitted that the business on the label was his, but he insisted that he did not make rice wine. With that, he said he had to get back to work, and shut the door.

"Big Joey" Massino Was the Biggest Rat of All

So the big boss, the BIG-BIG BOSS, turned out to be the biggest rat of them all. How could this be? What would entice a man who was head of the Bonnano Crime Family to turn canary against his second in command Vinnie "Gorgeous" Basciano, when he was already sentenced to life in prison, with no chance of parole?

Ah, but there was a method to Joe Massino's madness. It seemed Big Joey owned several houses, some under his wife's name and some under his mother's name. And the rumor is that the government, would not seize those houses, if Big Joey wore a wire when he met with his pal "Gorgeous"Basciano in prison. So the government, for whatever reason their convoluted minds justified, let Big Joey keep his houses, as if he were playing a spirited game of Monopoly.

"Do not pass go and do not collect $200"

Morons.

Read the article below which appeared on the website Mafia Today. Re-printed from the New York Post. Try not to puke like I did.

http://mafiatoday.com/bonanno-family/...

Mob boss confirms hit while wearing wire during prison workout

Former Bonnano boss Joseph "Big Joey" Massino wore a wire and got his successor, Vincent "Vinny Gorgeous" Basciano to talk, while the two stood in separate prison exercise cages six inches apart.

Prosecutors read transcripts of the recordings today during continued questioning of Massino — the first Mafia boss ever to turn rat on the stand.

"Randy — you OK'd it?" Massino asked Basciano, referring to the murder of Bonnano associate Randy Pizzolo, for which Basciano faces the death penalty.

"I gave the order," Basciano replies. "Randy was a f—-ing jerkoff."

Massino then pushed him further.

"Did it warrant the clip?"

Basciano then explained that Pizzolo went to meet a made man while carrying a pistol – a major Cosa Nostra no-no.

Basciano said rather than just shun him from the family he had him whacked to set an example.

"He's a a f——ing dangerous kid, who don't listen. He's just an annoying kid," Basciano said.

"These guys were out there doing whatever the f—- they want," he added, referring to the behavior of other Bonnano members. "I thought this kid would be a good wake up call for everybody."

Source: nypost.com

Mobsters and Crooks – George Appo – The Most Famous Pickpocket in the History of New York City

His father was a crazed Chinese murderer, and his mother – an Irish alcoholic. In spite of his lack of proper family upbringing, George Appo's mission in life was to be the quintessential "Good Fellow."

George Appo's definition of the phrase "Good Fellow," was a man who was an expert thief, one who would not cooperate with authorities, and who absolutely refused to testify in court, even against their enemies. Appo wrote in his 99-page autobiography, which was never published, "What constitutes a 'Good Fellow' in the eyes and estimation of the underworld is a nervy crook, a money getter and a spender. A 'Good Fellow' valiantly accepts the consequences and punishment of an arrest, even if the crime was committed by another. A 'Good Fellow' was a member of a fraternity of thieves."

In the late 1840′s, George Appo's father Quimbo Appo, ran his own tea business in New York City, before he moved to New Haven, Connecticut. In 1855, Quimbo Appo met Catherine Fitzpatrick, an Irish immigrant who was only in America a few short years. They married, and in 1856, Catherine Appo gave birth to two children. The first reportedly died in childbirth, but the second was described as "A handsome, healthy boy, very sprightly, as white as his mother, a Yankee boy to all appearances, with only the Chinaman's breadth between his eyes."

Shortly after George Appo was born, his father returned with his family to New York City. After working as a tea tester for several companies, in 1859, Quimbo Appo opened his own tea store on Third Avenue, between Seventh and Eighth Streets.

Quimbo Appo had a violent temper, made worse by his wife's incessant drunkenness. On March 8, 1859, Quimbo Appo came home from work and found his wife, as usual, three sheets to the wind. He began beating Catherine Appo, so viciously, the landlady of their building, Mary Fletcher, and two other tenants Margaret Butler and Mary Gavigan, interceded and tried to stop the beating. Quimbo Appo became so enraged, he pulled out a knife and stabbed Fletcher twice in the chest. Fletcher fell fatally wounded to the floor, screaming, "My God." Quimbo Appo then stabbed Gavigan in the arm, and Butler in the head.

Quimbo Appo ran to another Chinese boardinghouse, but was soon found by the police hiding under a bed. After he was arrested, Quimbo Appo told the police, "Yes, I killed her.

The front page of the Herald Tribune read the following day, "Murder in the Fourth Ward."

Quimbo Appo's trial took place on April 11, 1859. It took the jury less than one hour to reach a verdict of guilty. Even though the prosecutor, District Attorney Nelson J. Waterbury, recommended life imprisonment, a month later, Judge Davies sentenced Quimbo Appo to the death penalty. However, Quimbo Appo's lawyer appealed the case, and on May 8, 1860, Gov. Morgan commuted Quimbo Appo's death sentence, and instead gave them a 10-year term in the state penitentiary at Sing Sing.

However, Quimbo Appo's 10-year bit evolved into a life sentence, because of Quimbo Appo's penchant for violence, and also because he was basically a lunatic. As a result of several violent incidents, and bizarre behavior on his part, Quimbo Appo never became a free man again. He died at the Watteawan Hospital for the Criminally Insane on June, 23, 1912.

After his father's incarceration, George Appo and his mother returned to their slum apartment on Oliver Street. Soon after, Catherine Appo decided to take her son, and his younger sister, on the ship The Golden Gate, to visit Catherine's brother in San Francisco. However, the ship was caught in a violent storm and sank. Both Appo's mother and sister perished, but Appo somehow survived.

Appo wrote, "I cannot explain how I was saved, only that a sailor brought me to New York and left me with a very poor family named Allen."

The Allen family lived in the rear-yard tenement alley "Donovan's Lane," also called "Murderer's Alley," located on a tiny strip of hidden dirt, with the tenements so close together, hardly any daylight could penetrate into the alley.

Appo wrote, "One entrance was on Baxter and the other entrance was on Pearl Street. Poor people of all nationalities lived on this Donovan's Lane. It was a common sight to see every morning at least 6 to 10 drunken men and women sleeping off the effects of the five-cent rum bought at 'Black Mike's,' which was located at 14 Baxter Street. Next door to Mike's was a second-hand clothing store owned by a man named Cohen, who was a fence, where all the crooks used to get rid of their stolen goods. Up over Cohen's store was where all the Chinamen of the city lived. At the time there were only about 60 Chinamen in all the city and then the lane was called Chinatown."

Donovan's Lane, or if you wish – Chinatown, was in the heart of New York City's worst slum called "The Five Points." In this cesspool of humanity, Appo learned the tricks of the trade that enabled him to make a decent living in a life of crime. Appo, at about the age of 10, became part of a group of scavengers, which the people at that time called "street urchins," "arabs," "street rats," or gutter-snipes." While Appo was making an honest buck at low level jobs, like shinning shoes, sweeping sidewalks, and selling newspapers, Appo also perfected his true love – the art of picking pockets.

It was quite easy for a young boy selling newspapers, to pick the pocket of an unsuspecting mark. Appo used the guise of the "newspaper dodge," a ruse, in which, while he was ostensibly selling newspapers, Appo, with one hand, would wave the newspaper in a customer's face, then with the other hand, he'd pick the victim's pocket.

Appo's pickpocketing mentor was a master craftsman named Jim Caulfield. Caulfield once told a policeman, "If you will stand for a newspaper under your chin, I can take your watch, your watch and chain, and even your socks."

In the winter of 1871, Appo was caught picking the pocket of a downtown businessman. The businessman grabbed Appo by the neck, and handed him off to a passing policeman saying, "This boy just robbed $28 from my vest pocket."

Appo pleaded guilty before Judge Joseph Dowling. The judge sentenced Appo to an undetermined time on floating reform school, which was located on the naval vessel The Mercury. The Mercury housed on board 242 boys, who were convicted of such crimes as vagrancy, truancy, and larceny. On board The Mercury, boys learned seafaring skills, such as navigation, seamanship, military drills, and making all different kinds of rope knots, which were essential in a seafaring life. There were also classes for the boys in reading, writing, and arithmetic.

Yet, life on The Mercury was anything but idyllic. The food was barely edible. The water was filthy, and contagious germs permeated the ship.

In 1872, the Mercury made a 9-month trip to and from Barbados. Upon its return to Harts Island, off the coast of Manhattan, Appo and several other boys escaped from the vessel by lowering themselves down by a rope to a rowboat. After they arrived at shore in downtown Manhattan, Appo hustled back to Donovan's Lane and commenced picking pockets again.

In 1874, Appo was caught by a policeman picking the pockets of a Wall Street executive. Appo tried to flee the scene, but a passing detective followed him in hot pursuit, firing his pistol at Appo. Appo was hit once in the stomach, but he managed to escape.

Appo staggered into a building at 300 Pearl Street, and went to apartment that was occupied by the Maher family. While Mrs. Maher hid Appo under a bed, she ordered her son to go out in front of the apartment building to see if any policeman were in the area. When the coast was clear, Appo fled the apartment, and received treatment at St. Luke's hospital, from a physician who was friends with one of Appo's confederates. The bullet in Appo's stomach was removed, and soon Appo was back on the streets, doing what he had been doing before. Six months later, Apple was caught picking pockets again. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to two years and six months in Sing Sing prison.

At Sing Sing, Appo was united with his father, who went in and out of lucidity. The senior Appo was normal most days, but on his bad days, he was delirious, and he said things like "I am King of the World."

In Sing Sing, Appo was given job in the laundry room as a "presser" of shirts. After Appo accidentally burned one of the shirts, Appo's teeth were knocked out by one of the guards. Then three guards took Appo to the guard room, handcuffed him from behind, and forced him to lay face down on a paddle board table. There Appo was given nine sharp lashes with an oar on his back and spine, rendering him unconscious. When he regained consciousness, the head keeper said to Appo, "Do you think you can go back and do your work all right now? If you don't, we have a way to make you."

Appo told the keeper, "You punished me for nothing, and the next time I am brought here you will punish me for something."

Appo stumbled back to laundry shop. He immediately took the shirts that were on his table waiting to be ironed, and put them inside a hot stove, where they soon were reduced to ashes. After his dirty deed was discovered, Appo was brought back to guard room. When he was asked why he did what he had done, Appo refused to answer. Appo was immediately taken to one of the "dark cells," where he was imprisoned for 14 days. During those 14 days, Appo was given 2 ounces of bread and a glass of water every 24 hours.

After serving 30 months in Sing Sing prison, Appo was released on April 2, 1876. Surprise, surprise, he immediately went back to picking pockets. In the next eight years, Appo was arrested twice more for pickpocketing, and returned to jail in both instances, the last time on Blackwell's Island. Appo escaped from Blackwell's Island, by shimmying down a rope from the ship where he was working, to the water down below. Appo jumped into a small rowboat and rowed until he docked in downtown Manhattan. Appo immediately sunk the boat, and made his way to Mulberry Street, where he was able to borrow some clothes. The next day Appo absconded to Philadelphia.

Appo did very well picking pockets in Philadelphia, but the lure of his old streets in downtown Manhattan, especially the opium dens, was too much for Appo to resist. Back in the sixth Ward, Appo decided to deviate from his usual pickpocketing and engage himself in the flimflam business. Appo's chief swindle was giving store owners the wrong change for $10 or $20 bill. This racket went fine for a while, until Appo was caught in a jewelry shop shorting the owner. However, through the machinations of the nefarious law firm of Howe and Hummel, Appo was somehow able to escape prison time.

In the early 1890′s, catching pickpocketers and flimflam men became the favorite pastime of the New York City police. So Appo decided to try a new scheme: a scheme where he was less likely to be arrested. This scheme was called "The Green Goods Swindle."

The Green Goods Swindle was a three-pronged operation. It started with the "operators," or the bosses, who hired "writers," who wrote circulars to be sent to all parts of the country. The basis of these circulars was to entice people to agree to purchase counterfeit money. The green goods circular contained wording something similar to this:

"I am dealing it articles, paper goods – ones, twos, fives, tens, and 20s – (do you understand?). I cannot be plainer until I know your heart is true to me. Then I will satisfy you that I can furnish you with with a fine, safe, and profitable article that can be used in any manner and for all purposes, and no danger."

The writers would also include in the circular the prices for their goods. A typical price list would read: For $1200 in my goods (Assorted) I charge $100. For $2500 in my goods (Assorted) I charge $200. For $5000 in my goods (Assorted) I charge $350. For $10,000 in my goods (Assorted) I charge $600."

These circulars were sent to people from around the country, who had invested in various lotteries. The feeling of the "operators" was that these were the type of people who most likely would do something illegal for monetary profit. Confederate soldiers were also sent circulars. New York City assistant district attorney Ambrose Purdy explained why, "Former Confederates were so emotionally embittered and economically indebted, that they viewed green goods as a good way to hurt the government."

Once communication had been established between the "marks" and the "operator," The marks were directed to take a train to New York City, or to the suburbs close to New York City. There the marks would meet the third cog in the Green Goods Swindle, who was called the "steerer."

The steerer, one of whom was George Appo, would meet the marks at the railroad station and take them to the operator, or the "turning point," who was waiting for the mark, either at a bogus storefront, or in a hotel room. The operator would show the marks a sample of his "counterfeit" money, which was actually legal tender. The mark being satisfied that the money he had been shown certainly looked legal, would give the operator the money that had been agreed upon to purchase the "queer bills." The operator would then put the bonus counterfeit money into a cheap suitcase. A diversion would then occur, temporarily deflecting the mark's attention. During this diversion, the "operator" would switch the suitcase, and replace it with an identical one given to him by one of his confederates. Of course, the second suitcase was filled would plain ordinary paper, and sometimes even sand.

A this point, the job of the steerer was to get the mark quickly out-of-town, before the mark realized he had been swindled. As added insurance, the operator sometimes employed the services a local cop, or detective, and sometimes even several local cops, or detectives. If the steerer had a problem with the marks, either on the way to the train station, or on the train before it left the station, the crooked cop, or detective would jump in and threatened the mark with arrest, if the mark didn't leave town immediately. The mark would have no recourse, since he had been attempting an illegal transaction in the first place.

One such illegal Green Goods Swindle almost cost George Appo his life. In February of 1893, Appo was working a Green Goods Swindle with Jim McNally as his operator. Appo was directed by McNally to meet two men at a hotel in Poughkeepsie, New York. Appo went to the New York Hotel in Poughkeepsie, and entered the room of two men named Hiram Cassel and Ira Hogshead, shady entrepreneurs from North Carolina. Appo gave the men a letter identifying Appo as the connection between the Old Gentleman (the operator) and the two men. Appo said that he would take the two men to the train station to board a train for Mott Haven, where they would see the counterfeit money they were purchasing. After the transaction was completed, Appo said he would take the men directly to the train station, pay their fare, and send them on their way back home. Appo told the men that on the way to the train station, they must walk 10 feet behind Appo, and they must speak to no one, including Appo.

When Appo arrived at the train station, he was met by Hiram Cassel, but Ira Hogshead had stopped just short of the station, and was talking to a policeman, the same policeman who recently had a problem with Jim McNally, over his cut in a previous swindle. Appo approached Hogshead and asked him why he was speaking to the policeman. Hogshead said, "I don't care to do business. I've changed my mind."

Appo walked the men back to the hotel room, where Hogshead insisted the deal was done, and he demanded that Appo leave the hotel room immediately. As Appo was shaking Cassel's hand, Hogshead shot Appo in the right temple. Appo was taken to the hospital hospital in critical condition. In a few days, Appo's right eye became infected and it had to be removed.

Cassel and Hogshead went on trial for shooting Appo. However, since Appo, staying true to the code of a "good fellow," refused to testify against the two men, which prompted the judge to release Cassel and Hogshead, with a simple $50 fine. Appo, however, was arrested for running the Green Goods Swindle, and was sentenced to three years and two months at hard labor. Plus, Appo was fined $250.

Luckily for Appo, after spending only a few months in Clinton prison, on November 28, 1893 the New York Court of Appeals overturned Appo's conviction.

Feeling betrayed by Jim McNally, and by green goods operators in general, Appo agreed to testify before the Lexow committee, which was looking into police corruption, and their involvement in the Green Goods Swindle in particular. Appo didn't tell the committee anything they already didn't know, but he was branded a rat on the streets of New York City, and was shunned by the very people he had done business with for many years.

George Appo caught a break, when in September of 1894, he was approached by George W. Lederer, a renowned theater producer. Lederer offered Appo a part in his new play entitled "In the Tenderloin," in which Appo's was to simply play himself, in a play about New York's underbelly. Appo toured the country in this play for several years, but when the play's run ended, Appo was stiffed by Lederer for $15,000 in unpaid salary. Appo, although he tried for several years, never did collect his money from Lederer.

At the start of the 20th century, George Appo decided to live a life free from crime. He worked as a car cleaner at Grand Central Terminal, and also as a handyman at Calvary Church, the Sallade dress factory, and in the home of millionaire reformer a Alexander Hadden. In 1915, Appo began working for the government, during its investigations of opium dens. Appo received a salary of six dollars a month, in addition to another six dollars a month for rent for his apartment. Soon, Appo's salary was increased to $10 a month.

In his final years, little was heard about George Appo. What is known, is that Appo lived in a small apartment in Hell's Kitchen, on the west side of Manhattan. On August 10, 1929 George Appo was admitted to the Manhattan State Hospital on Wards Island. By that time, Appo was nearly deaf, and almost entirely blind.

On May 17, 1930, even though he had been shot four times, stabbed twice (once in the throat), and brutally beaten in prison, George Appo died at the age of 73, from nothing more than the effects of old age.

Guest Blog – NYC Mob Tour – All-Time Top 10 Jewish Mobsters

NYC Mob Tour picks the top 10 Jewish Mobsters of all time. The link is below.

http://wp.me/p1qZij-aL

10. Abe Reles aka "Kid Twist"

"The canary who could sing but couldn't fly!" The papers called him after he was found splattered 15 stories below his suite in Coney Island's Half Moon Hotel where he was supposed to be under federal protection. A suicide, a prank gone wrong, or most likely he was pushed by an agent on the take. Reles, a ruthless, cold blooded hitman (who allegedly adopted his nickname due to his talent and precision in wrapping a rope around his victims' necks) ended up turning rat and gave testimony that sent a few members of his outfit to the electric chair.

9. Irving Wexler aka "Waxey Gordon"

Wexler developed the childhood nickname "Waxey" because his pick-pocketting was so smooth, he could lift a wallet "as if it were waxed." A strike-breaker in the 1910′s and a bootlegger in the 1920′s, Gordon evolved with Organized Crime as one if it's major movers and shakers, until the younger generation took control of the Mob after prohibition's repeal. Arrested and sentenced to ten years for tax evasion, Gordon served his time and then tried going straight, telling journalists "Waxey Gordon is dead. Meet Irving Wexler, salesman." That was until he was busted of selling heroin to an undercover police officer. At 62 years old, Gordon was sentenced to 25 years in prison. He died of a heart attack one year later.

8. "Dopey" Benny Fein

His eyes always half-closed due to a medical condition, Benjamin "Dopey Benny" Fein was a major figure in the growth of labor racketeering from the 1910′s through 1940′s. Organizing his own group of "Labor Sluggers" he'd rent out his muscle to either the workers or the companies, depending on who paid more. Arrested a total of thirty times, his last one in 1941 for armed robbery of a garment shipment finally netted him between ten and twenty years in prison. After which, Dopey disappeared completely from public record…

7. "Big Jack" Zelig

Inheritor of Monk Eastman's "Eastman" gang, Zelig Harry Lefkwotiz became known as "Big Jack" for both his physical size and his prominence on the Lower East Side gang scene of the 1910′s. Notorious for breaking a man's back over his knee over a two-dollar debt, his reputation for strength and resilience was magnified when he was shot through the neck by by an enemy "Five Points" gunman and survived. by 1912, he was in the pocket of notoriously corrupt police captain Charles Becker and agreed to stand trial and testify against the Captain, claiming he was hired by Becker to kill gambler and saloon owner Herman Rosenthal. Shortly after the trial, Zelig got a bullet behind his ear and Becker got the chair.

6. Abner "Longy" Zwillman

Called "The Al Capone of New Jersey" Zwillman, a native of Newark quit school at the tender age of fourteen to support his family. Realizing that selling lottery tickets to bored housewives pulled in a lot more money than selling vegetables from a pushcart, by 1920, he was running the numbers racket of North Jersey. During prohibition, he smuggled thousands of crates of Canadian whiskey into New Jersey using WWI armored trucks. Smart, savvy, and a charming ladies man, Zwillman tried to wash away his gangster image with thousands of dollars donated to charity and even hints into the whereabouts of the Lindbergh baby. In 1959, when he was issued a subpoena by the McClellan Senate hearings, he was found hanged in his home. The bruises on his wrists indicated a struggle before his death… Someone was afraid that Longy might talk.

5. Arthur Fleggenheimer aka "Dutch Schultz"

Cause no one would ever be scared of a guy called Fleggenheimer, Dutch Schultz rose to notoriety as the beer baron of the Bronx and after Prohibition's repeal, strong-arming the numbers racket out of the hands of black gangsters in Harlem. brash and hot-headed, when he came under investigation by U.S. Prosecutor Thomas Dewey, he planned a hit on Dewey, rejecting the pleas of the other major heads of Mob organizations that he not to hit such a high profile target, Schultz himself became the target of a mob hit, getting gunned down in a restaurant bathroom in New Jersey

Surviving in the hospital for three days in a fever state, his rants were jotted down by crime reporters, hoping for an insight into the inner workings of the Mob. In the end: it was all meshugennah. (Crazy)

4. Benjamin "Bugsy" Siegel

Called "Bugsy" because his short temper lead friends and enemies to think he had "bugs in the head," Ben Siegel was a suave, seductive charmer and the surface and an impulse driven sociopath underneath. Many historians believe that Ben was one of the trigger men to assassinate the two major Sicilian Boses of the 1920′s, giving rise to a completely independent Crime Syndicate here in the United States. Sent over to Los Angeles to take control of the heavily mismanaged crime rackets of the West Coast, he fell in love with Hollywood glitz and glamor

A brief stopover in Las Vegas, Nevada gave him the vision of a multi-million dollar hotel/casino resort. After sinking way more money into the vision than he ever planned, he was gunned down in his girlfriend's home, never living to see Vegas become the gambling goldmine it is today.

3. Meyer Lansky

Sometimes called the Brains of the Mob or the Mob's Accountant, Lansky was strictly business. Never flashy, hot-headed, or vengeful, Lansky's greatest assets were his financial wizardry and his cool, logical way of assessing problems. A right hand man to Charles "Lucky" Luciano, official Chairman of the Mob Syndicate, Lansky focussed most of his attention toward the hotel and casino industry shying away from the much riskier and dirty businesses of drugs and prostitution

Followed by the Feds for decades, Lansky chose to live out his retirement in Israel where he wouldn't be harassed by the government. In the end, he was refused Israel's "right of return" for all Jews because of his criminal past and he died in Miami Beach at 83, of natural causes.

2. Louis "Lepke" Buchalter

Lepke being Yiddish for "my little Louis," Buchalter was anything but "little" in the world of the crime. Along with Italian gangster Albert Anastasia, Lepke founded "Murder, Inc." Brooklyn's notorious collection of stone-cold professional hitmen, Buchalter invented the contract kill, and was paid handsomely for it. He was also the only Jewish Mobster to have full control of a major industry in New York: The Garment District (taken over by the Mafia Families after Lepke's downfall) One of the major targets of Thomas Dewey's Mob investigations, Lepke went into hiding for almost two years until worn out and exhuasted, he gave himself up as part of a plea bargain.

As a cautionary tale to other mobsters, never trust a fed when he says he'll give you a fair shake: In 1944, Lepke became the only head of a major Mob organization to get the death penalty.

1. Arnold Rothstein

The true "Godfather" of Organized Crime, Arnold Rothstein was the only major figure to come into the Gangster life from the wealthier circles of New York. Smart, sophisticated, cool and collected, not only did Rothstein teach the young 'hoods who would one day control crime in the United States how to dress and speak like gentlemen, he also organized the most efficient liquor routes into the U.S. during prohobition, founded the country's first major heroin smuggling operation, and gained a reputation as the greatest gambler in American history, notoriously paying off eight Chicago White Sox players to throw the 1919 world series game. As visionary as Rothstein was, he met a gangsters end when he allegedly refused to pay a $300,000 gambling debt and then was allegedly shot by the angry creditor. We don't know for sure. Lasting for half a day with a bullet in his gut, Rothstein refused to name his shooter.

Author Sonny Girard Remembers Jimmy Roselli

The article below was written by author Sonny Girard. The link to Sonny's website is:

http://www.sonnysmobsocialclub.com/mo...

Jimmy Roselli died last week. If not for the technology that preserves music beyond a mortal's lifetime, we would have lost some of the best Neapolitan vocals of the past century. Though ten years younger than Frank Sinatra, Jimmy was brought up just a few doors from him in Hoboken, New Jersey. His greatest inspiration, as he always reminded us, was his grandfather. His Neapolitan love songs always kept his grandfather alive in him. As I listen to him singing now, I'm brought back to scattered memories of my own that he always evokes.

Jimmy was popular among mostly Italian-Americans at a time when the community was repulsed by the transformation of traditional values to the sex, drugs, and rock 'n roll of the Sixties. He gave them a link to their values of the past that was much more visceral than Sinatra, who was also idolized by the community, ever did. Sinatra gave you beautiful sounds and memories; Roselli reached inside you and permeated every cell; evoked emotions that made you cry with joy. The title of his 1998 book, "Making the Wiseguys Weep," tells it all.

Yes, Jimmy Roselli had a universal following among mobsters, and, yes, he made every one of them cry at one song or another. His voice had heart, and it cracked the hearts of the toughest guys. Unfortunately, as much as they loved him, many came to despise as they got to know him better. I remember him catching a slap because of some snotty remark he passed to one guy. I remember him getting blackballed by Sinatra because he snubbed singing at a party for Frank's mom, Dolly.

But those are not the memories that will be uppermost in my mind when I hear him croon "Malafemmena," or "Statte Vicino Amme," or "Little Pal." "Malafemmena," or "Bad Woman," was Jimmy's first big hit. I can see myself now, all suited up in sharkskin or mohair, with custom shirts and ties and alligator shoes, hearing the song play over and over in the Cocoa Poodle's jukebox. The memories are of all my similarly dressed pals, milling around the bar, singing along, and watching the door: Larry, Mooney, Ricky, Ralphie Goodness, Roy Roy, Smokey, and maybe a dozen or two more (not naming those still living). I will carry a memory of each, some great, some not so much (even they get better with time), for all my days, and Jimmy's music keeps them popping up to the front of my mind. I will always remember the intensity of their passion as Larry and Ricky sang along with Jimmy when "Statte Vicino Amme" was either playing on the jukebox or at our ringside table when Jimmy sang it onstage.

Jimmy also brings back my mother. He was the first live act she had ever seen, when I brought her to the Copacabana. She cried along with everyone else when Jimmy hit the famous high c singing "Vesta la Giubbia," at Carnegie Hall. When Jimmy got down on one knee on my table at the Shore, and crooned directly to my sister, Susan, she slowly slid down in her chair till she was completely under the table.

I also remember Jimmy for Jimmy. I remember him dining with us on Sunday at Larry's house; also the day his assistant smashed his head on the glass sliding doors that were so clean he couldn't see them. There was Jimmy at the Boulevard, at the San Su San, and, of course, the Copa. We'd see him every night. One night he admired an outfit I was wearing, which I told him I would have given to him if he wasn't too fat to wear it. Now, I'm too fat to wear it, if, in fact, I still had it lying around.

Of all the songs Jimmy has ever done, there is one that is the most important to most street guys is "Little Pal." It is, regardless of what outsiders think, the ultimate mob song. I can see Larry singing it to a young relative on his knee when he knew he was dying of cancer. I sang it to my three year old daughter the night before I left to serve my first prison sentence.

It goes:

Little Pal, if daddy goes away,

Promise you'll be good from day to day.

Do as mother says, and never sin.

Be the man your daddy might have been.

Your daddy didn't have an easy start,

So here's the wish that's dearest to my heart:

What I couldn't be, Little Pal,

I want you to be, Little Pal.

I want you to sing, to be happy and gay.

Be good to your mommy while your daddy's away.

Each night, how I pray, Little Pal,

That you'll turn out just right, my Little Pal.

And if some day, some day you should be,

On a new, a new daddy's knee,

Think about me, now and then, my Little Pal.

And so, till we meet again,

Heaven knows, knows where or when,

Think about me, now and then, Little Pal.

Pray for me, now and then, my Little Pal.