Monday, January 24, 2022

Sally Papia Comment

The following comment submitted this week by an anonymous contributor concerning my Sally Papia - A life lived on the edge post. Great insight and my response follows:

"I dealt with Sally and Candy Papia when I was in Milwaukee in the mid 1980s. No details, of course, but I dated Candy for a few months, staying at her house in Brookfield for days, and not knowing they were the Mafia. Then, suddenly the honeymoon was over and they tried to blackmail and extort me for money, threatening to tell my boss at the time. I even met Sally in the back of her restaurant, where she continued to threaten me. I was a foreign student and did not have a penny. Sally claimed that I had gotten Candy pregnant and they wanted me to pay thousands of dollars for an abortion. They finally relented as I did not have any money, after they told my boss of my affair with Candy. He didn't care and didn't want to get involved. Two things: I am glad they died the way they did, and I realized that the Mafia people are ruthless but very very stupid. You give a picture of them that is nostalgic of criminals, just like Hollywood does."

Mr. Anonymous, thank you for your insight and comments. You are referring to a post that contained an article written by a former long time investigative reporter, Bill Janz, of the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel. I believe he was attempting to tell her side of the story as “she” saw it, I think he was quite honest in the article about their relationship/friendship and stated so.

I also have another post about her “The Milwaukee Queen Bee of Organized Crime” that is much more critical of her extraordinary life. Your insight is very valuable in presenting a more complete picture of what Sally and her daughter were really about. A story of a criminal mother, who married a criminal Chicago Mob guy with a spoiled, narcissistic daughter. I have no sympathy for criminals in the least and thank you very much for your comments. Feel free to elaborate on your experiences, I would be happy to publish more of it if you wish.

https://mafiahistorymilwaukee.blogspot.com/2014/03/sally-papia-life-lived-on-egde.html

https://mafiahistorymilwaukee.blogspot.com/2012/08/the-milwaukee-queen-bee-of-organized.html

My Amazon Author Link



Wednesday, July 28, 2021

Comments on "The Mad Bomber" Frank Balistrieri

The following two very interesting comments were submitted this week by an anonymous contributor concerning my Tales of the Milwaukee Mob and Two Cigarette Men post. Great first person accounts of him meeting Frank Balistrieri on a couple of occasions way back in the 1970's. There are so many great comments I have received at the end of this very popular post that are interesting facts and not well known. There is a link to the original post after his comments. Many thanks to all the people contributing great information!

Comment received, July 24, 2021:
After a divorce, I lived in the Antlers Hotel next to Centre Stage. There was a pool hall in the hotel where I spent a lot of time playing pool. I saw plenty of well-dressed men frequent the pool hall just to talk with whoever was running it. There was a parking lot on the other side of the hotel with a White Castle on the corner. I became friends with the parking lot owner's son who ran it. Centre Stage customers would get their parking validated to park there for a dinner show. Once I went with my friend to go collect the validated receipts. Frank's big Caddy was always parked in front of Centre Stage with a parking ticket under the wiper. My friend said Frank always put the ticket there himself. We went upstairs and were let into the room where Frank was. Frank asked my friend, "Who's that?" because he usually came alone. My friend said my name and I quickly (too quickly) went to shake his hand. Another guy in a suit went to reach for something under his coat, Frank gave him a look and he relaxed but he refused the handshake with a wave. We met a lot of celebrities that came to perform at Centre Stage and parked in the lot. Tom Poston being the friendliest and funniest. Just a distant memory and I thought I'd share my brush with Mafia greatness. Good stuff on your page!

Comment received, July 26, 2021:
I wrote the above brush with Frank . . .

Several months later after I had moved from the hotel, the lead guitar player, steel guitar player in my Country band and I along with our dates, attended a dinner show featuring Johnny Rodriquez. As we were finishing our dinner, Frank approached the table and said, "Aren't you Dave's friend?". I said, "Yes". He said, "Welcome" and quickly walked away without a chance for further interaction or to introduce my friends. Came time to pay and I was told that our entire evening was 'comped' so the waitress smiled and said, "Can I get you all another cocktail or some desserts?" I didn't want to 'look a gift horse in the mouth' and quickly declined. I never got another opportunity to thank him but I did mail a Thank You card to Centre Stage c/o Mr Frank Balistrieri with a hand-written note thanking him for his generosity.

Link to the original post: https://mafiahistorymilwaukee.blogspot.com/2013/08/tales-of-milwaukee-mob-and-two.html 



Saturday, July 22, 2017

Gangster's paradise

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Article thanks to Nan Bialek and gmtoday.com. Links provided:

During the 1930s, Waukesha County, WI was a favorite hangout for Chicago gangsters

September 3, 2011  It seems you can’t swing a Tommy gun in Wisconsin and not point to a place that wasn’t frequented by some of the most notorious gangsters Chicago ever produced — Baby Face Nelson, Bugs Moran, John Dillinger and Al Capone.
The deep woods of northern Wisconsin had many well-known gangster getaways during Prohibition, says Chad Lewis, author of "The Wisconsin Road Guide to Gangster Hot Spots," and southeastern Wisconsin has its share of legends and lore as well. Those who actually saw the wise guys are quickly slipping away into history themselves, Lewis notes, but many of the encounters have not been forgotten. There are plenty of stories, for example, of gangsters pulling into a service station, buying $1 worth of gas and giving the attendant a $20 tip.
"Money meant nothing to these guys, because when they ran out of money they just went out and got more," Lewis says. "It’s almost as if they were the celebrities of the day."
Local historian Stephen Hauser of Elm Grove agrees. In the 1930s, when the country was deep into the Great Depression, a bit of gangster cash was just the thing for keeping yaps shut. In those days, when what is now Elm Grove and Brookfield were unincorporated and the area was dominated by farms, bootleggers would sometimes rent space in farmers’ barns to distill liquor.
"They paid very generously, probably better than they even needed to," Hauser notes. There are stories about a farmer’s child needing an operation, for example, and a gangster pulling a stack of cash from his wallet and handing it to the farmer for the hospital bill. "Gangsters were often seen in a positive light by many rural people."
Relatively rural, wooded areas in southeastern Wisconsin were perfect settings for halfway houses for gangsters on their way "up north" from Chicago and back again.
In those days, Bluemound Road was untamed, Hauser says. Because there were no local police departments in the area, it was patrolled by county sheriff’s deputies, some of whom took payoffs to turn a blind eye to houses of ill repute and speakeasies. Some deputies were eventually convicted of corruption and served jail time, he adds.
"Al Capone had a home right off Bluemound Road," Hauser says. The street now known as Capone Court was his driveway, and "nobody arrived unexpectedly at Al Capone’s house." A watchtower was built for a lookout post, and Capone kept a well-fed flock of Canadian geese on the property. If federal agents tried to surprise Capone, the geese would make enough noise to warn him. A tunnel led from the house to the garage so the gangster could make a quick getaway without being seen.
Federal revenue agents did manage to enter the home once when Capone was away and smash the still he operated on the property, Hauser says.
Capone also owned part interest in a greyhound racetrack that once stood just west of what now is Brookfield Square, Hauser says, and trained the dogs at the Mound Kennel Club across the street from the track.
In what is now Bishop’s Woods, a little shack off Elm Grove Road was used as a meeting place for gangster confabs. On occasion, Hauser says, their cars would get stuck in the muck, and an auto repairman just down the road would get a phone call and be asked to bring his tow truck. When he arrived, the gangsters told him to stay in the cab and look straight ahead. As soon as the gangsters hooked the car up for the tow, and he hauled it back on the main road, the repairman would be rewarded with a wad of cash.
When it was time for a break from the stress of dodging the law and rival gangs, some mobsters headed for Lake Country.
"These guys liked lakes," Hauser says. "They loved to put on the old dungarees and flannel shirts and go fishing."
So, Lake Country resorts and speakeasies, from Pewaukee Lake west to Okauchee and Oconomowoc lakes, also became gangster hangouts. Lewis says they would arrive at the lakeside resorts in pinstripe suits and shiny black Packards and try to blend in as tourists.
That tactic didn’t work for Jack Zuta, a Capone bookkeeper who defected to George "Bugs" Moran’s gang. Zuta, who knew that Capone did not take kindly to disloyalty, tried to hide out under the name "J.H. Goodman" at the Lake View Resort on Upper Lake Nemahbin in the town of Summit. Suspecting that a hit squad was on the way, Zuta was overheard making a frantic phone call from an Oconomowoc drug store, pleading for bodyguards to escort him back to Chicago.
Legend has it the hit squad sent to take care of Zuta was staying at a Lake Nagawicka resort, and lawmen at the time suspected them of robbing a Hartland bank to the tune of $100,000.
Just around sunset on Aug. 1, 1930, Zuta was pumping coins into a player piano in the ballroom of the Lake View Resort, according to the history section of the city of Waukesha’s Web site. A five-man assassination squad filed in through the back door, aimed their guns at Zuta, opened fire in full view of horrified hotel guests, turned and left the building. According to a Time Magazine account published on Aug. 11, 1930, the piano played the song Zuta chose just before the guns began blazing — "Good for You, Bad for Me."
This story ran in the September 2011 issue of:


Saturday, November 5, 2016

Milwaukee Leg Breaker

Thanks to Gary Jenkins for the following guest post. Gary is a former Kansas City Police Intelligence Unit Detective. It is a blog piece he put together about Milwaukee's Sally Papia and her plot to burn the Northbrook Inn and harm her former chef. It provides additional information on a post I did in 2012 called "The Milwaukee Queen Bee of Organized Crime". 
Gary has a unique true crime podcast called "Gangland Wire Crime Stories".  Gary and his co-host Aaron Gnirk tell crime stories from Gary's career. He also researches famous Mob investigations and other crimes for content.
Sept, 2016 Gary writes:
I met Gary Magnesen in Las Vegas, he had been assigned to the organized Crime Squad and took part in the investigation of Lefty Rosenthal and Tony Spilotro and the Stardust skim. When I went out to Vegas to interview folks for my film, he cooperated and gave me a great interview. Before I went out, I obtained his book Strawmen in which he tells about his career. I noted a name, Jacob Schlecter and a description 6'6' 250s lbs and a leg breaker mentality. I did a quick check back to a narcotics investigation and surveillance we once did with the DEA and found this was the guy I was thinking of.
To go back, We had a tip and an informant that claimed he could buy weed from a mob guy named Joe Sharpino, who had a tow truck and worked out of a mob associated body shop on Independence Ave. The DEA could find no criminal record on this guy. We checked with the FBI and the Intelligence Unit records and sources and found this guy to be a mystery. The DEA were able to make a few small controlled buys thought the informant. The agent said they would keep offering more money and buying larger quantities and make this guy a big drug dealer. The informant is reporting the guy has some connection with local Italian family, but this family showed no prior organized crime connections, but one of the family members did own this body shop. The guy was an independent tow truck driver who mainly hung around the body shop. The informant was buying more and more weed and laying the groundwork to introduce a female DEA agent in as a big buyer with lots of customers in the suburbs.
We rented a nearby apartment and watched the body shop recording every license number that came and went. No mob guys were showing up. If this was a mob guy, he was not associated with any local mob folks, and if this was his real name, he had no criminal record. The informant would be seen going into the body shop and leaving, then contacting the DEA agent with a story about how Joe Sharpino was going to break somebody's legs that owed the body shop money. I even sent my informant in who was a car repo man. He offered Joe an extra car repossession job that we set up. The guy was suspicious or something because he turned down the job.
After a couple of weeks into this, the informant reported his tow truck driver had a heart attack. He went into St. Luke's hospital for heart surgery. While he was recuperating, the informant relates that he has a Universal Life minister's certificate and the supposedly mob guy wants the informant to marry him and his girlfriend while he is still in the hospital.
After several jokes about how to "wire up" the informant and record the ceremony, we let that go and the informant conducted the ceremony of the target and his new wife. Finally the guy got back to his tow truck and the body shop. The informant makes the introduction to the female agent and she makes her pitch. The guy agrees and claims he can supply 50 pounds of weed. By this time, the DEA has to get the guy identified in order to continue the investigation and put these kinds of resources into it. I ask our Fingerprint Unit supervisor to make personal calls to the National Crime Information Center (NCIC) at the FBI headquarters. We had the guy's drivers license record and it showed no arrests. The fingerprint guy noted the license was issued to him at the 811 Grand, KCMO address, then he changed it to his current address.  He then checked on the guy's name and date of birth at NCIC and mentioned that fact. You see, that was the address of the Federal Courthouse, the FBI, ATF, US Marshalls office. The NCIC contact could not say exactly, but indirectly, we learned our friend was in the witness protection program. The DEA took this to the US Attorney's office who contacted the Witnesses Protection folks at the US Marshalls. After a consultation and looking at our skimpy case, the US Attorney ordered the DEA to Stand Down. The guy disappeared shortly after.  
Which gets me back to the Gary Magnesen book. In that book, he tells a story about one his first cases. His first office was in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. A girl friend of a Chicago Outfit guy named Frank Buccieri moved up from Chicago and opened a nice restaurant called Sally's Steak House on Juneau Ave. She was described as a raven haired firecracker who thought she was the Queen Bee of Milwaukee Organized Crime because of her Chicago relationship. She hired three local mob associates and professional criminals to help run the place. Chicago outfit guys would come into town and eat there and never pay any respect to the Milwaukee mob boss, Frank Balistrieri or Frankie Bal or Fancy Pants. He called her an Outfit wannabe in a fucking skirt. Sally, the mob moll, hired a chef after she paid for his tuition at a good culinary school. He left shortly after to open his own restaurant, the Northridge Inn. She became enraged and hired a local arsonist to burn it down.
On December 29, 1974, Joseph Basile called Jacob Schlechter, an unindicted co-conspirator, instructed Schlechter to set the Northbrook Inn on fire that night. Schlechter did so in the company of his wife, who later contacted the police and began supplying information concerning the ongoing conspiracy. Following the fire, Schlechter went to Basile's home to collect money for his work. Basile gave Schlechter $100 and told him that another $900 would be forthcoming from out of town. Schlechter asked what the fire was all about, and Basile told him that it was ordered because the chef had "screwed over" Sally Papia and because of a "personal grievance" Basile had against this chef.
On New Year's Eve, two days after the fire, Papia ran into the Chef at a local restaurant. Dropping a lighted match into an ashtray, Papia said, "I told you this was going to happen."
In early January, Schlechter asked Basile for the balance of the money due him for setting the fire. Basile deflected the request by advising Schlechter that they were getting pressure from a Frank Balistrieri, who had lost some juke boxes in the Northbrook Inn fire, and that Schlechter should not tell anyone of his involvement in the fire.
On January 7, Russell Enea approached Schlechter in Papia's restaurant and asked him if he knew anything about the fire. Schlechter, complying with Basile's order to keep mum, said that he did not. Three days later, apparently satisfied that Schlechter could be trusted, Enea again approached Schlechter and directed him to break the Chef's  wrists "so he never cooks again." Enea said that "Max" would get in touch with Schlechter to talk about the job. Shortly thereafter, Max Adonnis contacted Schlechter and told him to kidnap the Chef and take him to a garage so that Adonnis and Enea could break his wrists personally. Schlechter and Adonnis then discussed the plan with Herbert Holland, who was to assist in the endeavor. Adonnis explained to Schlechter and Holland that this Chef owed Sally Papia $5,000, that he had "screwed over Sally," and that he wasn't going to get away with it. Adonnis gave Schlechter a slip of paper listing the Chef's address, the make of his car and its license plate number. A week later, Adonnis passed along a photo of the Chef taken in Papia's restaurant on which Papia's handwriting appeared.
During the next couple of weeks, Holland, Schlechter and Adonnis attempted to locate the Chef without success. On January 18, Enea, disturbed by the lack of progress, approached Schlechter and, gesturing with his wrists, inquired what Schlechter was doing about the chef. Schlechter and Holland renewed their efforts to locate the Chef but failed to do so, much to the expressed chagrin of Enea and Adonnis. Finally, Adonnis saw the Chef at a local restaurant and obtained his new address, place of employment and license plate number, which information he passed on to Schlechter with instructions to do the job right away.
After purchasing a baseball bat and two ski masks for use in the battery, Schlechter and Holland went to The Chef's  place of employment in the early morning hours of February 9, 1975. While waiting for him to leave work, the two were confronted by police because the auto in which they were riding matched a description of a stolen car.
The Milwaukee police were going to the Chef's apartment. As they arrived at the guy's apartment, they saw two suspicious men cruising the area. They got them stopped and found two baseball bats in the car, two ski masks, the Chef's photo and his address inside the car. They arrested them for CCW and they spent the night in jail. Gary Magnesun and his partner went to the jail the next morning after being notified that one of the suspects wanted to talk to the FBI. This was Jacob Schlecter who was 6'6 250 lbs with a leg breaker's mentality. He was not as tough as he looked. Schlecter agreed to work with the Bureau and set up Sally and her underlings. Soon, he was out of jail and wearing a wire. He was able to record Sally and her co-conspirators talking about this plot to kill or injure the former chef.
During this time Joseph Basile, the guy who originally ordered the arson, was picked up and taken to Fancy Pants.  He was livid and told the guy that Sally did not have the clout to approve this arson and he should not have done it without checking with Fancy Pants first.
Jacob Schlecter would testify against Sally Papia and her co-conspirators and they would go to jail for the arson and attempted murder of the Chef. Schelcter would be relocated in the Witness Protection program to Kansas City Missouri, until he got into trouble acting like a mobsters and selling a little weed. he was relocated somewhere else.

Saturday, June 18, 2016

Milwaukee Mobster Frank Balistrieri Had Alleged Interest In Gay Bar Pink Glove During Late 1950s

jsonline.com
Article source: http://bitterqueen.typepad.com. Links provided. 
The Pink Glove was a wildly popular gay bar in Milwaukee, WI in the late 1950s, and none other than mob boss Frank Balistrieri allegedly had a hidden interest in the watering hole which otherwise was operated by Marvin Klein as license holder who was a brother of suspected mob associates Harold and Bernard. A 1958 FBI report provides the following:
FRANK BALISTRIERI is alleged to have an interest in the "Pink Glove," which is newly opened, a cocktail lounge at 631 North Broadway, and which is operated by [name redacted]. An informant has advised that he has seen an employee of FRANK BALISTRIERI's observe the activities at the "Pink Glove" cocktail lounge and check the cash register and report his findings back to FRANK BALISTRIERI.  The informant advised he had no information which indicated that this "Pink Glove" cocktail lounge was a part of a country operation which catered to the "gay crowd." A "gay crowd" is described as individuals who participate in various acts of sexual perversion. It was the understanding of this informant that the "Pink Glove" may be a name used to designate a certain spot in various parts of the country where gay crowds meet.
Balistrieri apparently had interests in straight bars, too, and another 1958 FBI memo alleges he had involvement with the "licenses for the Roosevelt Bar, the Melody Room, the Downtowner Bar, the Tradewinds Lounge and the Knights Tower Bar, all in the city of Milwaukee."


Monday, November 2, 2015

Wisconsin's Northwoods: the real gangsters' paradise

Photo: evelynfrechette.com
Story thanks to Max Gorden, Multimedia Journalist and www.waow.com. Links provided:

MINOCQUA (WAOW) - October, 2015

Wise guys like Al Capone and John Dillinger ruled Chicago in the late 1920's and early 30's. These infamous men reaped riches and often left a trail of destruction.
But when these gangsters weren't out and about on the town in Chicago, they were often in the Northwoods of Wisconsin. During the 20's and 30's, the Northwoods area became a playground for those who made their living in Chicago's underworld.
Brothels dotted the area, catering to their gangster clientele.
In Minocqua, the boathouse of BJ's Sporting Goods was once home to a different sort of business. In the 20's and 30's, it was known as "Trixie's Brothel." According to local lore, when Trixie the matriarch died, her body and her jewels were buried on an island on Lake Minocqua.
When Chicago's most infamous weren't hanging out with local call girls, they were relaxing at the Northwoods' numerous resorts, such as Little Bohemia in Manitowish Waters.
"[It was] a place for the gangsters to get away, a place for everyone to get away," Little Bohemia owner Dan Johns Jr. said.
It was at Little Bohemia that John Dillinger and his gang almost met their end one night in April of 1934.
"The gang was inside, having a good time, always suspicious, but not thinking that anything was going to happen at that minute,” Johns said. “And then the FBI shows up."
A shootout ensued, bullets flying through the windows and walls of Little Bohemia – bullet holes that can still be seen by visitors in Little Bohemia's dining room.
"The gang realized that the jig was up,” Johns said. “So they busted out and started running in all different directions."
Dillinger's gang scattered after their shootout with the FBI, but few know the story of what happened after the escape.
Dennis Robertson, the President of Dillman's Bay Resort, owns a piece of history connected with the plight of Dillinger's gang – a cabin used by George “Baby Face” Nelson as he evaded the FBI. Nelson was wanted for his connections to various murders and bank robberies. After two getaway cars failed on him, Nelson trekked 18 miles in a suit and wingtip shoes from Little Bohemia through the woods until he came upon a cabin inhabited by a local family.
"He had three guns with him,” said Robertson. “And he said, 'I'm going to possibly stay here with you for a little while and nobody can leave.' He ended up staying, what we know of, two nights and three days there. And he finally left and went back to Chicago."
The structure that Nelson stayed in is now known as Cabin Five at Dillman's Bay Resort. Though Cabin Five has been expanded and moved since Nelson's stay, visitors still have the opportunity sleep in the room that once housed the notorious gangster.


Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Old Mobster Now on Trial for the Massive Airport Heist from ‘Goodfellas’

Photo by REUTERS/Brendan McDermid
Story thanks to John Surico and www.vice.com. Links provided:

Oct. 20,2015  In a Brooklyn federal courtroom on Tuesday, Gaspare Valenti did the one thing mobsters like him aren't supposed to do: talk.

As his son glared at him from the gallery and his cousin sat enraged at the defendant's table, Valenti recounted how the first time he went on a score, he showed up in a seersucker suit, not quite understanding that "come dressed" meant come with a gun. He even told the court how he "got rid" of a body by pouring lime over it. "I was told it helps it decompose faster," the 68-year-old said, nonchalantly.

But when asked what his biggest crime was, Valenti replied with one word: "Lufthansa."

That answer marked the first time a gangster has admitted in court to helping carry out what was once the largest cash theft in American history: the 1978 Lufthansa heist at New York's John F. Kennedy Airport. The robbery was a key plot point in Martin Scorsese's 1990 gangster classic Goodfellas, and the way Valenti described it, you could see why it showed up in a movie.

"I was separating gold chains and watches and the diamonds and emeralds and rubies," the criminal told the court of the spoils.

Valenti is the key witness in the trial of Vincent Asaro, his 80-year-old cousin, who is charged with taking a cut from the $6 million heist, as well as murdering Paul Katz—who was believed to be a snitch—with a dog chain a decade earlier. That's the man Valenti graphically described burying, exhuming, and then "getting rid of" a second time, years later.

Valenti was arrested in 2013 for racketeering conspiracy, pleaded guilty, then agreed to wear a wire to help the Feds catch his cousin mouthing off about the heist. A year later, Asaro was arrested. When asked by a federal prosecutor on Tuesday what the penalty is for talking to law enforcement—one of the biggest no-no's in Mafia politics—Valenti responded quickly: "Death."

Throughout Valenti's testimony in the courtroom on Tuesday, Asaro stared at him, his hands clasped below his chin. At one point, when Valenti described a robbery where he dressed up like a woman to avoid detection, Asaro broke character, laughing to himself, perhaps at the memory of a mafioso in drag getting cat-called on the streets of Queens. It was clear that at one point, the cousins were friends.

In many ways, Asaro and Valenti's relationship closely resembled the one famously shared by the two other major players in the heist: Jimmy Burke and Henry Hill, the Lucchese family associates respectively played by Robert De Niro and Ray Liotta inGoodfellas. According to Valenti, Asaro and his father, who were both part of the Bonanno crime family, brought him into organized crime. Asaro apparently taught him how to rob, signed off on all of his scores, and, in one situation, instructed Valenti to brutally beat a bartender "who showed him disrespect" after a Fourth of July party.

But most importantly, Asaro always wanted to make sure he was making money, Valenti said, which is why he was invited to get in on the multi-family Lufthansa heist led by Burke. Fortunately for prosecutors, Valenti was able to offer a play-by-play of the caper.

If true, Valenti's account of the Lufthansa heist represents pure gangster gold.

He reeled off a list of alleged participants—something that the feds were never able to fully compile—and discussed the meetings held beforehand at Burke's club in Queens to plan just exactly how they'd rob the airport hanger. (Blueprints were apparently provided by Henry Hill's friend, Marty Krugman—the guy in Goodfellas who keeps pleading to Liotta for the heist money. He was later allegedly murdered in cold blood.)

On the night of the heist, Burke and Asaro waited a mile away in a "crash car," according to Valenti, and before arriving at the scene, Tommy DeSimone—Joe Pesci's character—bragged about using his silencer. Valenti then recounted how he and Burke's son, Frank, held up two terminal workers at gunpoint, hiding them in a van while the two mobsters cleaned the place out.

What happened afterward, though, is where the key details lie. "A robbery that big and nothing discussed of where anyone would go afterward," Valenti recalled thinking to himself.

Apparently, the group hadn't chosen a place to store the money, so at the last minute, according to Valenti, his own house in Brooklyn was chosen to stash the burlap sacks filled with the stolen $6 million. It was initially divided up around Christmastime to the families involved who were guaranteed a cut. Valenti asserted that he and Asaro were promised $750,000 at the onset. "Jimmy and Vinnie said, 'Don't spend anything,'" Valenti said. "'Don't catch any heat.'"

But the final amounts weren't fully doled out, he said. Some participants were apparently killed for disobeying Burke's orders (you might remember this scene from the movie, set to "Layla"), and others went missing. So the rest of the cash and diamonds allegedly remained in Burke's possession, especially when Burke later came under fire for unrelated crimes—something that apparently particularly pissed off Asaro, as he and Burke were partners for some time.

Years later, Asaro's frustration was caught on Valenti's wire. "We never got our right money, what we were supposed to get... Jimmy kept everything," Asaro is reportedly heard saying. Prosecutors claim that whatever cut Asaro did end up with, he blew it all on gambling. (That vice ran in the family: Valenti testified that he, too, went straight to the racetracks and social clubs with his end of the heist.)

After an explosive first-day primer of Mafia life, the key witness's testimony made up the entire second day of Asaro's trial, and could provide the feds with their best chance at booking Asaro for the age-old crimes with a life sentence. However, just as Valenti's memory serves the prosecution nicely, it also lays the groundwork for the defense to argue that his knack for details is suspicious—or too good to be true.

Regardless of Asaro's fate, Brooklyn federal court saw history on Tuesday: an admission from someone who was apparently involved in a legendary crime nearly four decades ago. In the process, old grudges—these rivalries and relationships that once dominated the New York City crime underworld—were given a dramatic public airing.

Follow John Surico on Twitter.

http://www.vice.com/read/the-old-mobster-charged-with-the-goodfellas-heist-got-ratted-on-by-his-cousin-today-1020?utm_source=vicefbus

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Book Review - The Milwaukee Mafia: Murder in the Heartland

I purchased this book several weeks ago authored by Gavin Schmitt and here is my review.


After learning many years ago that some of the people I dealt with back in Milwaukee in the 1970’s were mob “connected”, I’ve spent a lot of time over the past many years trying to learn about the history of the Italian mob in Milwaukee.


Gavin Schmitt has spent decades researching the history and has been a valuable resource in my own education. After learning that his second book had been published, I immediately ordered a copy and finished reading it this week.


The book covers in great detail the events from the early 1900’s up until Frank P. Balistrieri was anointed the head of the Milwaukee mob in 1961. There is a chapter on John Alioto, Balistrieri’s father-in-law who was the boss preceding Frank from 1952 to 1961. If you grew up in Milwaukee, you will read many familiar names from back in the day, it’s a very well researched book, very detailed and provides a lot of little known historical facts.


As written in the book’s description on Amazon:
From the time Vito Guardalabene arrived from Italy in the early 1900s, until the days the Mob controlled the Teamsters union, Milwaukee was a city of murder and mayhem. Gavin Schmitt relies on previously unseen police reports, FBI investigative notes, coroner's records, newspaper articles, family lore and more to bring to light an era of Milwaukee's history that has been largely undocumented and shrouded in myth. No stone is left unturned, no body is left buried.


Milwaukee's Sicilian underworld is something few people speak about in polite company, and even fewer people speak about with any authority. Everyone in Milwaukee has a friend of a friend who knows something, but they only have one piece of a giant puzzle. The secret society known as the Milwaukee Mafia has done an excellent job of keeping its murders, members and mishaps out of books. Until now.


There is a lot of investigative detail in the book, names, addresses, dates and times. I found it easy to picture the locations in my mind as I was familiar with a lot of the areas  and locations mentioned. The murders of John Di’Trapani and Jack Enea are covered in detail.


All in all, this is a good book for people interested in Milwaukee Mob History and I highly recommend it. Just be aware, the book only covers the time period up until 1961, when Balistrieri took power. I’m hoping that Gavin will look to publish another book covering the Balistrieri years up until the present!
Also, Gavin has another book titled “Milwaukee Mafia (Images of America) consisting of about 125 pages of fascinating photos and captions of the early mob days in beer town. Click this Link for a previous post that I wrote about it.