Lion in the Basement Growing up in the Gallo Crime Family Read online

  Every now and then Ricky would hang out at the "Old Sahara", where Larry almost got killed, it had to be late 1968, the place is now called "The Lions Den". A guy called Johnny "one eye" owned it. He was a "fag tough guy" "don't ask me"! Ricky got into a argument at the "Lions Den" with an off duty cop. My mother was sitting with Ricky at the bar, and the guy started coming on like a wise guy. He was a little drunk, so my mom wanted to leave, as they went outside, the guy came out and started to fuck with Ricky, he then pulled a gun. Ricky jumped on him and took the gun off him and beat him so bad they had to reconstruct his face. The joke was he was better looking after the beating! The law brought my mother in for questioning, my mom said "she didn't see the guy, she was in the bathroom and didn't know what happened outside", it all went away.

  A few weeks later Ricky's trial was coming up for the murder of a guy in Bensonhurst, at a bar on 13th Avenue. The story goes a guy in the bar was drinking then started to act like a real tough guy, real nasty and calling out guys to fight. An argument broke out with Ricky and it rolled into the street, Ricky won the fight and the guy died. Ricky went to trial. and at the trial the witness couldn't identify him. Roy sat in back of Ricky at the trial Ricky let his beard grow, Roy also had a beard, that fucked up the witness, he couldn't tell them apart! They threw the murder case out. Many years later, I get a email from the son of the guy that got killed, he said it wasn't nice I was promoting my father, who was a killer. He said that a cop told his mother that my father had killed his father. I said "if you wasn't there, you'll never know the real story. maybe you were told that your father was just a regular guy, but that's not what I know", and that I was sorry for his loss, but if my father lost the fight I wouldn't be emailing you, and the losing side always complains that it was the "other guy", The winner goes to jail and the loser goes to the hospital, or the cemetery no matter who was wrong, that how it works!

  Now my personal opinion is, that if two people are willing to do bodily harm to each other and one loses, the other shouldn't be punished for it.

  "The Poodle, after a while got hot". Detective Lambart, head of the "Pizza Squad", that was formed to watch the "Gallo Crime family". Every couple of weeks he used to pick up guys from President Street or the "Coco Poodle". He would grab Punchy, Roy Roy, or Sonny "Hats", then, Blast, Nicky Bianco, Louie, Chitoz, Sonny Cap, for "vagrancy" and bring them to the Lawrence Street police station. The guys, while they were waiting to see a judge, would always bring a deck of cards and play "pinochle", to waste time. Every time they went in front of a judge, he would throw it out, telling Lambert not to bring them in again! The next week Lambert would bring them in again, and the judge would release them. The "Coco Poodle" gets too hot to stay at, so were off again.

  GALLO MAN HELD IN GANG SLAYING

  Photo Picked by Witnesses in Ozone Park Shooting

  A member of the Brooklyn Gallo mob was charged yesterday with the fatal shooting of Vincent DiTucci, a reval gangster whose body was found Wednesday in his car with five bullet wounds in the head.

  The 34 – year- old DiTucci, a member of the Profaci gang, was slain as he sat in the auto on a street in Ozone Park Queens.

  The police had reported esrlier that there were no witnesses to the crime. However, Queens detectives said yesterday that five withesses had identified Gennaro Basciano, a 33-year old occasional longshoreman of 210 President Street Brooklyn, as being at the murder scene.

  Basciano who was arrested Thursday in front of the Gallo headquarters, 51 President Street was held without bail by Judge James E.LoPiccolo in Queens Criminal Court for a hearing Monday. The police said withnesses had identified him from picture files.

  The murder of DiTucci, who was apparently unemployed since his release from prison four years ago after completing a burglary sentence, was the latest incident in what the police consider a thinly disguised gang war.

  Stuggle for Power

  They contend that the Gallo mob has tried to undercut the prestige and power of the late Joseph Profaci, who died last year of natural causes.

  The Profaci group, which was active in Brooklyn as early as the nineteen-twenties,has been the target of Gallo members since World War 11. The Gallo gang owns several companies dealing in coin-operated machines.

  Basciano, a convicted burglar, was one of 16 Gallo membersarrested May 19 after two Profaci men were wounded by rifle fire as they drove on a Brooklyn Street.

  Last Thursday, Lawrence Gallo, 35, and his 62- year-old father Albert, pleaded guilty in Brooklyn Federal Court, toobtain a Government- insured bank loan. The elder Gallo is also involved in a deportation proceeding.

  Other Gallo leaders are Joey and Albert Gallo, who have survived several attempts on their lives. The four Gallos have been arrested more then 100 times in all.

  The New York Times

  Published June 15,1963

  Use of the Gallos in Race Unrest Is Scored by Jury

  A Brooklyn grand jury investigating the role of Albert and Larry Gallo in helping to case racial relations in the borough last summer was sharply critical yesterday New York City Youth Board for having employed the brothers. Reporting that there was insufficent evidence to warrant any indictments, the jury said;

  "We deplore the conduct of the Youth Board in enlisting the services of Albert Gallo and Larry Gallo andclocking them with indicia of official authority in an endeavor to quell disturbances in the East New York and Flatbust sections of Brooklyn., thereby introducing a distubing innovation which is inimiical to proper law enforcement and damaging to the prestige of duly constituted authority".

  The statement referred to letters furnished the Gallos by the Youth Board to help them to "cool" White youths in Brooklyn troubled neighborhoods. Koota had protested against such offcial investigated for criminal activity. "I think these letters should not remain in the possession og the Gallos," Mr. Koota added. "And, so far as I know, they, have them to this day." The Gallos, reputed leaders of an organized underworld faction in the borough, were credited with attempting to case racial animosity in East New York in July and in Flatbust in August. When Mr. Koota first learned of this, he described it as "a deplorable abdication of official responsibility". On the other hand, a Broolyn lawyer remarked: "The Gallos should get medals."

  The prosecutor said that his greatest concern was lest the brothers had made "any deals or recevied promises of immunity" in return for their intervention. The Gallo brothers and other underworld figures are being investigated by a rackets grand july. They have already served 30-day jail terms for contempt in refusing to answer questions and now face another term for the same offence.

  The New York Times

  Published September 8, 1966

  CHAPTER 8

  Freeport Long Island

  Late 1968, Ricky got the catering concession at the Freeport Yacht Club" in Long Island, with his friend Dickey. The same year my mother gets convicted for passing bad checks. When she went for sentencing her lawyer asked for probation but the judge said she was part of "Organized Crime" and gave her two years. She did 18 months, 1968-69. She was represented by Bob Weiswasser. I remember Ricky saying that "Weiswasser was no fucking good and he's going pay for it one day."

  Off to my grandparents house, for a few weeks. Ricky would come and see if I needed anything, he also took me up to see my mother in prison, it was like a camp. I was about 12 years old, it was a little weird to see your mom in prison but I was told "it is what it is."

  Then Ricky picked me up to move out to the yacht club, it was a real cool place. Dickey had three daughters, I stood at the yacht club with the girls and they couldn't keep there hands off me, "thank god," while Dad went back and forth with Larry to take care of business in Brooklyn. Every night we ate all the food we wanted, there was a pool table, arcade games, an Olympic swimming pool, tennis courts, we had everything we wanted.

  Larry Gallo's son Steven, lived in the next town, Merrick, he was 5 years older than me, he was like a uncle to me. He would alw
ays come around and ask if I needed anything or pick me up for a ride. I remember one time he was racing his vette in "Freeport Stocks." He picked me up to go with him it was my first time at the races, it was a great time. We stood friends for many years.

  There were a lot of people with money at the yacht club, blue collar guys, they were the biggest fucking thieves, I learned how to hate people after meeting them! A lot of wheeling and dealing was going on. Dad's friends would come over once a week and everybody knew the mob was there.

  The members would shit their pants and their wives or girlfriends would come in there panties. Till this day, I still never saw a bunch of hoes like those wives or girlfriends! The members used be with the mayor, councilmen, police chief, judges, lawyers, all day, saying that all these Italian guys were hoods, while their wives or girlfriends were at the club blowing the guys all day! Then the jerks would come at night to the club and bad mouth the judges, lawyers and police chief, what a bunch of assholes.

  One night the members were having a party at the club. There were three guys standing near the stairs and one of them got a little ballsy and said to my father that "all grease balls think they are in the mob." My father politely told him to cool it with his mouth. The guy asked "what do you think you're going to do about my mouth?" the next thing I saw was this guys teeth on the floor next to the hot food trays and two other guys laying on the floor!

  After it was all over Dickey rushed Ricky out through the kitchen. It took about a half hour for these guys to get up with some help from some friends and get out. About two hours later the cops came wanting to talk to my father, a few words were said and they brought him to the station house. After a couple of hours at the station the guys didn't want to press charges so they let him go. We were surprised he was let go, because Ricky, a few week before had words with Dennis Dillon, the district attorney in Nassau and told him "his wife was a great blow job" not the smartest thing to do!

  A week later all three guys were at the club asking to speak with Ricky with a mediator asking Ricky, to "please let it go" and that they "were sorry" that they drank too much, and knew that "they were wrong." Bullshit, the other members knew that Ricky was with the Gallo's and they fucked with the wrong guy and they might wind up missing. That's why the Anglo Saxon pricks came back asking for their asses.

  The more I think back about all those assholes that bad mouthed Italians, they were all real assholes with no balls and I really think they were jealous that we had two sets of balls and they had none!

  There are so many stories at the club. Sonny Francesse a "Capo" in the Colombo family, a good friend of Ricky's from Brooklyn, he had a party for his girlfriend, who was Johnny "lions" sister, he didn't show up. She was real upset and made a scene in the place that they had to call some of Sonnys guys to get her out, Sonny was pissed off at her.

  It was Labor Day and Ricky was throwing a big barbeque for all the members. They had about 10 barbeque pits all set up, they figured about 300 people would show up.

  All the guys came from Brooklyn, the club members and their families. As the people came in, Ricky would start the barbeques. Everything was going fine, then they got a rush of people, so Ricky tried to get the pits going faster, so he grabbed a can of lighter fluid and started to spray it on the coals. When it didn't go on fast he went back and started to spray it again. when he did that the flame went up the spray and blew the lighter fluid all over him, setting him on fire! The guys started to throw things on him like water, Scotch, towels, and chairs. They put him out, but he burned off half his ear, burned his face and half the left side of his body. Off to the hospital he went, the party went on. Everybody said that Ricky throw's a good party!

  About a week later dad was out of the hospital and everything was back to normal. As the months went by the catering was making a lot of money, the place was booked a year ahead. Then the bottom fell out.

  All the members got together and voted Ricky and Dickey out on the grounds that the place was run by organized crime. They got a court order to try to get them out. We all know that the reason they did that is because they saw the place making money and they wanted to put their own people there. Cock suckers, that's why I never liked "white collar goodie goodies," they are the "legal mafia," they go both ways like their wives! They fuck you using the law, the same guys they fucked the day before.

  I met my first girlfriend in Freeport. Nadine, we were young it didn't last long, we were moving again, I never forgot her she was a sweet one.

  We were always on the move. Just about the time we started losing the yacht club Dad told me to take a ride to pick up Larry Gallo to drive him home, he wasn't feeling well, so we did. It was a quiet ride, Dad and Larry talking some business and talking about some old times. They mentioned bringing Jimmy Roselli to New York, and about Joey coming out of jail soon and he was worrying about his kid brother. It ended with a few laughs and a hug. Then Larry grabbed my cheek but not as hard as usual then gave me a little hug and said "bye". Well it was the last time I saw Larry Gallo, soon after that he died of cancer.

  I think that Dad and Larry were so close that a part of Dad died too that day, in fact I knew something changed when Dad kept saying "we're fucked now".

  He knew with Larry gone they would be open for some other families, to make a move on them, with Joey still in jail it would cause some problems.

  When Mom got home from jail, she came to Freeport. It was great having her home. We didn't stay there much longer. I already got thrown out of school after getting "suspended ten times" that was it they threw me out it was seventh grade. That summer Dad and my Mom were staying a lot with Abby, his wife Dolores and Jimmy Bates and his wife. On weekends we would go to the "seven lakes" upstate, we had a blast up there. We were on the lake, row boating one day when Ricky wanted to have some fun and jumped off the boat, and started to swim back to shore. Mom didn't swim so she was scared shit but she grabbed the oars and started rowing back. When Ricky saw she was having a hard time rowing, he swam back to us, and my Mom hit him with the oar and wouldn't let him in the boat! so he had to swim back. He started to cramp up and almost didn't make it back. When he did get back he was laying on the shore, Jimmy and Abby said "Don't worry Ricky, we had your back". Ricky said fuck you!

  Back at the hotel we had dinner and saw a show, they had a few drinks, then I went to bed. That night as we were sleeping my Mom heard loud sounds next door in Jimmy's room. She woke Ricky, Dad had a gun under his pillow, so he grabbed it and ran to the door. He fell to the floor and rolled to Jimmy's door, There was a cleaning women in the hallway and she started to scream and run! Dad busted the door in and saw Jimmy "sleeping" and making those sounds! His wife woke and saw Ricky standing in his underwear with a gun in his hand and asked him "what's going on!" Dad said he heard noises and thought Jimmy needed help. She said "He always did that in his sleep," and that she didn't hear it any longer. Dad came back and told the story and said "I told you Dee they are fucking weird, that Jimmie was fighting in his sleep".

  CHAPTER 9

  Back to Brooklyn

  We're on our way back to Brooklyn. It was the end of 1969, I stood with my grandfather and grandmother, on Sackett Street, downtown Brooklyn. Sal and Mary Fiore, two of the nicest people you'll ever meet in your life. Even now, 58 year later, I remember them like it was yesterday. They took me to places like the Statue of Liberty, Empire State Building, The Circle Line, on a trip up the Hudson, Yankee and Met games, Carroll park to play ball, and Coney Island. The funny thing about it was is that my grandparents were both born in Italy, it was the first time they were going to these places and they lived in the United States for 50 years!

  My grandfather was a longshoreman and worked on the Manhattan and Brooklyn docks, and was as straight as an arrow. He wouldn't pick a penny off the floor, he'd say it's not mine.

  My grandmother "which, I couldn't do anything wrong" if my hands were cold she would put them under her arms. If I was tired she would say her
belly was a pillow, lay on it. I was hungry the food was there in 2 minutes. When pa yelled at me (not many times) she would go at him like a tiger. I had them for 37 years of my life, with a smile, now I have 21 plus years with a tear in my eye.

  Grandpa would say to my Mom "keep an eye on that Ricky, I think he's you know, one of those guys." My Mom would say, "Pa what are you taking about? the guy owns a bar and he's a prize fighter."

  Grandpa used to say: "You a canta bull Shita me, I know more then you thinka." My Grandma would say: "Why you no shut up a Sal!" Grandpa used to yell back: "Stata Zita ado" and that would end it all! Let's just say it was one of the greatest times in my life. I made a lot of friends in the neighborhood that I stood close too, til this day. I didn't see them for a while. A few years later they were a big part of my teenage life.

  Around 1970 the Gallos were working on a deal with Al Goldstein, the publisher of Screw Magazine. So we moved into an apartment on Foster Avenue in Brooklyn. My Moms' home, now.

  I started hanging out on Court Street with my cousin Blake and some new friends like Marty, Tommy, Brian, Steven and of course my "Goomba Louie."

  We played a lot of ball, these guys got me playing fucking baseball in the summer and in the winter football. They had me playing stick ball, soft ball, hand ball, box ball, punch ball, Wiffleball, but they couldn't make me play basketball, fuck that game, I just didn't like it. After playing fucking ball all fucking day we went back to the block to hang out. I would eat at one of the guys house it was stupid to go back to Foster Avenue and then come back for the rest of the night. Most of us didn't go to school, so we were out till late. We would sit on the corner of Douglass Street and Court Street, drink some beers and just bullshit about anything.