My dear Poppa was a construction company CEO in Cleveland, so yes.
I lived on Mulberry Street in Manhattan between Spring and Prince 1982-84, so especially yes. The Gambino clubhouse was downstairs and one door north.
The night we moved out to Brooklyn we struck up a pleasant running conversation with a couple of young “torpedos” who were sitting outside on folding chairs, smoking cigarettes. They told us the best places to pick up fresh mozz and good Italian sausage, and the good places to go for a red-sauce checked-tablecloth Sicilian-American dinner, as we lugged our shit down from out tiny tenement apartment.
About midnight, we were loading the last of our stuff into the car, and one of them said “HEY! Here he comes!” And they proceeded to beat the living crap out of a guy RIGHT IN FRONT OF US, leaving him crawling in the gutter and dripping blood. As they took off running up to the corner one of them waved back at us and yelled “YO! Have a good time in BROOKLYN!”
I turned to my girlfriend and said “JESUS! Should we call the cops?” And she said “No…no…probably not a good idea.”
A long time ago, back when Ronny RayGun was POTUS, I was a manager at a company that got product from an alleged ‘family’ operation. Lets just say that money moved in front of my eyes in ways that were non-standard, and that at least two sets of books were kept.
The operation still exists, and the principals on my end have all not come down for breakfast, even the one in witness protection…
I live ten minutes walk from the Yamaguchi gumi (head Yakuza group) headquarters (now used for ceremonial occasions only). So I’ve probably seen a few around, but have never ‘met’ one.
Almost certainly. A friends father was in construction but never seemed to be involved in any given project and always had a couple very large assistants with him all the time. I never asked and no one ever said for sure but in thinking back --------
And there was that compound on Dorrance Ave but I never knew any of the people who lived there.
I once worked for a company that had a salesman who was kinda shady. One day a couple of tough guys came looking for him, when he was out, and they said “Tell him Rocky and Angelo were looking for him”. I’ll take that as a Yes.
I grew up and still live in the Jersey shore. My grandmother on my father’s side is Italian.
My aunt’s long term boyfriend bet on sports. He and my aunt were both charged but not indicted for crimes related to sports betting about 25-30 years ago as part of a part of an investigation into a small time Philadelphia mobster.
My dad’s uncle like to bet on the ponies through bookies, most of whom were connected I’m sure. I didn’t know him that well though.
For a number of years my mother worked night and weekends as a waitress of a high end hotel on the shore that was frequented by mobsters. If I remember correctly Friday night they brought their wives and Saturdays they brought their girlfriends.
And I’ve heard rumors that various bars and restaurants on the boardwalk have some mob connections. I don’t know if that is true, but it at least seems plausible given how much is all cash transactions.
And during the summer down here at the beaches and clubs you see plenty of people from North Jersey or Staten Island who looked like they could have been extras on the Sopranos or Goodfellas.
My father was a Hells Angel before I was born, and possibly for the first few years of my life. My mother convinced him to give it up and sell his bike when I was very little because she was worried about our safety.
I worked in a family-run Italian restaurant in Rhode Island during college. My next door neighbor was a prominent figure in the community and got me the job as I was an outsider. The owner’s uncle (Big John) was the local mafioso, and his family were frequent guests. The only time anything illegal came up was when we threw a lady out for being too inebriated, the uncles’ son (Little John) ran after her and tried to sell her some coke.
There was also the usual mafia restaurant scam where lots of fake receipts get processed at the end of the day for imaginary guests. The owner liked to do this himself but it was obvious what he was doing.
When I was hired, the owner informally on-boarded me from behind the bar with a couple rules and policies. The on-boarding ended with the sad sacks at the bar all taking great pleasure in telling me, one after the other, “no no, if you fuck up, I’LL kick your ass!” It was pretty pathetic, honestly. These aren’t inspiring men.
No, but Umberto Anastasio was supposed to be a cousin of my grandfather. You might more easily recognize him as Albert Anastasia of “Murder Incorporated”. It’s not really something I bring up in casual conversation. :lol
I met John Gotti once. He was incarcerated at the time waiting for trial. Our law school class was on a tour of the facility and we ran into him and had a nice conversation.
I was working in the Brooklyn federal courthouse during one of his trials. The defense team an extravagant catered lunches every day during trial. I haven’t seen anything like that again.
Well, if we’re going to stretch it to 1% bikers - I had several beers with the local Chapter President of the Pagans. I didn’t know who he was at the time, other than an acquaintance of my friend, the owner of the bar. This bar was a regular stop for bikers on Sundays, including the occasional Pagan. It was Mothers Day and we were all sitting at an outdoor table. My friend and his wife, Pagan and his wife, my mother, my sister and my girlfriend and her mother. He was a kind of skinny guy and didn’t say much at all. No colors but l saw the 1% diamond on his forearm and later asked my buddy who he was. As a narcotics/homicide investigator I probably should have known who he was but he was from an adjacent county. Anyway, a few weeks ago he was charged by my former colleagues in a locally notorious murder. He wasn’t the trigger man but he arranged the hit. He’d set it up it with the victim’s husband, a locally well known doctor. She was a radio personality. The actual shooter died of an “accidental” overdose in the years between the killing and the arrests. Plans were in the works to whack the victims husband, too. He just committed suicide in a county jail. I think it’d make a great made-for-TV movie. I also met several other outlaw bikers but that was professional in nature.
Not the mafia, but on a tour of Mexico - I started chatting to a big chap on a trip to a cenote that our tour joined. He was quiet and didn’t swim.
That evening in a bar in Merida I was having a drink with a few of the people from my tour when the big guy came in. He spoke to he people behind the bar before spotting us. He went back to the bar and very quickly had a big bucket of beers given to him which he handed to me. He then sat and tried out his English with us. Turns out he was the guy that extorted money from the local bars. Later that night he tried to convince us to come with him to visit a guy who owed him some money and then head on to a strip bar. The Mexican guide of our tour was absolutely bricking it and wouldn’t go home until the guy had left. Yes the local guy carried a gun. I was his friend though and I got free beer, so overall a positive experience…
In Italian/mafia speak we call that ‘a nice spread’ as in ‘Ma, this is a great spread you put out for tonight’.
Anyway, so here I am looking over some of the Milwaukee mafia stuff, recognizing all kinds of names as either people I know, people I know my parents know or people that I know direct decedents of. One person I totally forgot about was a relative that I used to drink with once a week or so. He was loud, like we’d be at a (quiet) bar and his cell phone would ring and he’d go into the bathroom to take the call and we’d all hear him yelling and screaming and then he’d come out like nothing happened. It was no secret, even if he wanted it to be, that he was connected, but when you’re flipping out and talking about going down to Kansas City and you’ll deal with then, you’re not hiding much.
Don’t get me wrong, I know Milwaukee isn’t Kansas City or Las Vegas or New York, and the Mafia certainly isn’t going strong these days (not that that’s a bad thing). But we had our hay day back in the 70’s and a lot of those people are still floating around telling stories. As I said (I think) in my last post, being in an Italian family, I hear an awful lot of them. Either right from the source or from people affiliated with them (ie, stories that start out with “I was cleaning dishes/bartending/cooking in 1976 at Sally’s/Snugs/Giovannis*)”.
*For those of you in Milwaukee.
I’m in Santa Severa, Italy back in 1998 during the winter. The town is on the coast near Rome and is packed in summer with dozens of hotels. Winter, only one is open, the town is shuttered for the most part. I’m walking down to the local sports park (lights are on, football practice for the local squad). I turn a corner and there’s a bunch of big Mercedes sedans and several “big” persons hanging outside. I’m quickly confronted but my American English gives me away. I get questioned where I’m going (mix of their bad English and my atrocious Italian) and point out the practice going on a couple of blocks over. I’m on my way with no trouble. On my return trip, a new guy heads out toward me but the others head him off and I pass in peace (one piece?). Seems a quiet town was hosting some sort of a meeting (place where the cars were was a residence).
In the early 90s I was working in Japan in the documentation field, in the small company that did translation, DTP, and printing. My boss had a request for a quotation for printing business cards from a new client and I went along.
Everything was going along quite nicely when the customer got a phone call and took it in his office. Suddenly he started screaming into the phone sounding exactly like a yakuza. My boss and I glanced at each other, shook our heads and then found a good excuse to be running along.
I have no idea if he was part of the Japanese mafia, associated with them or just like pretending he was, but the (small) order wasn’t worth our time figuring that out.
My ex-wife’s father was in insurance and had to deal with them from time to time. They always made sure that they went in pairs to have a witness along. They usually didn’t have problems with them.