Or consider John “Sonny” Franzese. The seventeenth child of Neapolitan immigrants, Franzese grew up in Brooklyn when the families were recruiting new men in the 1930s. The young thug was brought into the Mafia by Sebastian “Buster” Aloi of the Profaci Family. He was drafted into the United States Army during the war, but he was discharged in 1944 for his “pronounced homicidal tendencies.” He rose quickly with the Profaci Family as a brutal enforcer, loanshark, and extortionist who collected skims from Brooklyn bars and restaurants. He met his beautiful wife while she was working as a coat-check girl at the Stork Club. In the late 1940s, he opened the Orchid Room tavern in the burgeoning neighborhood of Jackson Heights, Queens. In 1960, he moved his family into a spacious suburban home on Long Island he bought for $39,000 (about $300,000 in 2013 dollars).55
While they were never millionaires, both mafiosi enjoyed middle-class suburban lives for decades. The fact that uneducated street thugs like Valachi and Franzese could obtain middle-class status is a perverse tribute to the capacity to make money under the Mafia.
The Wealthy Ones
A smaller minority of mafiosi made it big. Joe Valachi estimated his Genovese Family had “about 40 to 50 wealthy ones.”56 Although the net worth of a gangster is always elusive, based on evidence from tax evasion prosecutions, FBI wiretaps, and other reliable sources, there are documented cases of caporegimes and bosses who became rich on rackets:
Luciano Family caporegime Michael “Trigger Mike” Coppola became rich from bootlegging, the numbers lottery, and labor racketeering. Coppola's wife once saw him count out $219,000 in cash on their dining room table. He explained to her that it was his regular share of the Harlem numbers. He bought a house near the ocean in Miami Beach, and he flew around the country to mob hotspots like Las Vegas. Coppola would later plead guilty to evading $385,000 in income taxes between 1956 and 1959 (about $3 million in unpaid taxes in 2013 dollars) on millions more in income.57
Another Luciano caporegime named Ruggiero “Richie the Boot” Boiardo lived like a king in New Jersey. He first made his money as a bootlegger and speakeasy operator around Newark. As a young man, he bought audacious jewelry like a two-hundred-fifty-stone diamond belt buckle worth $5,000 in 1931 ($75,000 in 2013 dollars). Boiardo later used his profits from illegal booze and the numbers lottery to build Vittorio Castle, a lavish banquet hall with grape vineyards in the middle of Newark that attracted celebrities from New York City. He later built a “castle-like” miniature mansion worth over $75,000 in 1954 (over $650,000 in 2013 dollars) in the wealthy township of Livingston, New Jersey.58
Genovese Family boss Anthony “Fat Tony” Salerno feasted on a variety of rackets. He held interests in the East Harlem numbers lottery and loansharking operations, engaged in labor racketeering with the International Brotherhood of Teamsters, and ran many construction industry rackets. In the 1950s, Salerno split his time between his horse ranch in Dutchess County, his apartment in tony Gramercy Park South, and his house on the exclusive Venetian Islands in Miami. In 1978, Salerno pled guilty to criminal charges of gambling and tax evasion for failing to pay $76,578 in income taxes ($273,000 in unpaid taxes in 2013 dollars) on over a million dollars in income.59
Lucchese Family boss Anthony “Tony Ducks” Corallo started out life as a humble tile setter in East Harlem, then spent the rest of his life looting labor unions and industries in New York. As a venal labor racketeer, he took to flashing fat wads of cash, and moved his family into the wealthy neighborhood of Malba, Queens. In 1968, Corallo was convicted along with others of paying a $40,000 bribe for the award of an $840,000 city parks contract (a $268,000 bribe for a $5.6 million contract in 2013 dollars). The FBI placed an electronic bug in Corallo's black Jaguar. One day, Corallo's driver spotted FBI agents trailing them. His driver suggested they were following them because they thought Corallo controlled the toxic-waste-disposal business. “They're right,” responded Corallo, unaware he was on tape.60
Gambino Family boss Paul Castellano wanted to appear to be another successful businessman in his fifteen-thousand-square-foot mansion on Todt Hill in Staten Island. When FBI agents wiretapped his estate, however, they discovered that his “legitimate” businesses were bolstered by racketeering. His son's Scara-Mix Concrete Company enforced a concrete cartel on Staten Island. His meat companies and union ties gave him monopolistic power in the wholesale meat markets. Meanwhile, his “industry association” controlled no-show jobs in the garment district. Castellano's power and income derived largely from the Gambino Family's control of key union locals. “Our job is to run the unions,” Castellano was picked up saying on a bug.61
The Ghost of Al Capone: Avoiding Fixed Assets
When the Treasury Department convicted Al Capone on tax evasion charges for failing to report income from illegal sources, it had a lasting impact on the Mafia. According to a report by Chicago bankers in the 1930s, mobsters began putting money into legitimate businesses so they could “withstand an investigation and show that they were earning sufficient income to enjoy the expensive living they were enjoying.” The New York Mafia was permanently affected by the Capone prosecution, too. “After Capone went down, word spread around the Mob: give Uncle Sam his vig,” said Louis Ferrante. “I wasn't going the way of Capone,” vowed Lucchese Family associate Henry Hill. “That was the hardest part; hiding the money, not making a hit.”62
The threat of an Internal Revenue Service (IRS) investigation caused mafioso to hide cash or avoid too many fixed assets that marked wealth. Big savings accounts and large homes had to be justified with “legitimate income” from businesses. New England boss Gennaro “Jerry” Angiulo beat the IRS by gradually funneling money from his illegal gambling operations into his golf course, a bowling alley, hotels and motels. Henry Hill laundered money through a shirt company and “paid cash for everything [so] there were no records or credit card receipts.” As FBI agent Joe Pistone said, “The IRS doesn't have a chance against wiseguys” because they paid for everything with thick rolls of “Lincolns and Hamiltons.”63
These extralegal measures did not encourage optimal savings and wealth creation. Jimmy Fratianno had to take hidden interests in casinos, with no paperwork, and stash away stacks of cash. Mafiosi could not simply use their cash to purchase major assets like homes. “You have to either borrow money or something if you want to buy a house. [The IRS] would say where did you get the money,” explained Fratianno.64 This frustrated normal investments. “They can't invest it without going through fucking fronts…what good is it?” complained Fratianno. “Even when they die, their heirs's got to hide the money.”65 The wife of a Gambino Family soldier lamented how she and her husband had to limit their legal assets. “Later on, when the money started coming in, everything we ever bought in the way of property—houses, office buildings, and so on and so forth—had someone else's name on the papers, not ours,” said Lynda Milto.66 Put another way, the Lucchese Family never had a pension and savings plan. Most wiseguys would not have contributed to it anyway.
In 1954, the Justice Department prosecuted Frank Costello for federal income tax evasion under a different theory. Rather than trying to establish all of Costello's illegal income, the government went through the arduous process of proving that the mob boss's spending far exceeded his declared income and assets. At trial, prosecutors painstakingly called 144 witnesses and introduced 368 exhibits to prove that Costello and his wife spent nearly $60,000 in 1948 ($580,000 in 2013 dollars) and more than $90,000 in 1949 ($872,000 in 2013 dollars).67
Although this prosecution strategy was difficult to replicate, it provided an early window on the mob lifestyle. Costello's rampant consumption was not unusual. Wiseguys spent money at astonishing rates.
Spending Money Like Water
Wiseguys spent their money on a high-consumption lifestyle. When Vincent “Fish” Cafaro was asked what he did with the millions of dollars he made, he described a spendthrift life:
Senator Nunn: Did you save any of it?…
Mr. Cafaro: Nope.
Senator Nunn: What happened to it?
Mr. Cafaro: You want to tell them, Eleanore [his wife]? I spent it, Senator. Just gave it away…. As I was making it, I was spending it: women, bartenders, waiters, hotels. Just spending money.
Senator Nunn: Spending, $400,000, $500,000, $600,000, $700,000 a year?
Mr. Cafaro: Sure.
Senator Nunn: A million dollars a year in some years?
Mr. Cafaro: If I had it to spend, I'd spend $3 million.68
Wiseguys spent their money on all kinds of lavish consumption, starting with the mob nightlife. “Most of them like to be in the limelight. They like to get all dressed up and go to a fancy place with a broad on their arm and show off,” explained Vincent “Fat Vinnie” Teresa. Sammy “The Bull” Gravano recounted his big-spending nights on the town picking up tabs, leaving huge tips, and ordering champagne and prime steaks. “It was let's go to the Copa…and I'm broke again and its macaroni and ricotta at home,” said Gravano.69
Wiseguys tended to spend freely in their personal relationships, too. Anthony “Gaspipe” Casso recounted “spending money like there was no tomorrow” with his young wife. They went on frequent vacations to Saint Thomas, Bermuda, and Las Vegas, routinely dined at the best restaurants in Manhattan, and always saw the latest Broadway shows.70 Quite often, wiseguys were spending money on mistresses, too. “Everybody who had a girlfriend took her out on Friday night…wives went out on Saturday night,” recounted the wife of Henry Hill.71 The other woman could be costly. “Some wiseguys will set their girlfriends up with an apartment and stipend,” said Joe Pistone.72
Mobsters loved precious jewelry, stylish clothes, and new automobiles, too. As a young bootlegger, Charles “Lucky” Luciano took to wearing real gold jewelry.73 The attendees of the 1957 meeting of the Mafia at Apalachin drove luxury Lincolns and Cadillacs. Gangsters wanted to signal their success in the neighborhood. “Ninety percent of mob guys come from poverty,” Vincent Teresa explained in 1973. “Now they made it. They got money, five-hundred-buck silk suits, hundred-buck shoes, ten-grand cars…[t]hey want everyone to know they've made it.”74
Ironically, many wiseguys ended up blowing their own money on gambling. “Whether we bet on horses or sports or dice or cards, gambling was like breathing for Mob guys—we couldn't live without it,” said Sal Polisi. “That's not to say everybody was good at it. Most Mob guys were chronic losers, and a lot of those who weren't were mediocre at best.”75 John Gotti was a compulsive gambler who reportedly lost $90,000 on college bowl games over a single weekend.76
Spending on the mob lifestyle often came at the expense of long-term savings or housing. “We'd cash the checks [from no-show jobs], and by Monday we'd blown the money partying or buying clothes or gambling,” recalled Henry Hill. “I said I didn't have to save it because I would always make it. And I wasn't alone,” explained Hill, who still managed to buy a house on Long Island for his wife. Other mob spouses were less lucky. “Tommy DeSimone always drove around in a brand-new car and wore expensive clothes, and he and Angela lived in a two-room tenement slum,” said Hill's wife, Karen.77 Mobsters simply spent their money on different things than responsible citizens. Indeed, the reason that reporters were surprised that John Gotti lived in a modest house in Howard Beach was that he routinely emerged from chauffeured cars in custom-made suits at some of Manhattan's finest clubs and restaurants.78
Still, the mob lifestyle was fun to them. “I like gamblin’; I like women,” said Charles Luciano when he was asked how he spent his millions. “Those are the two things that make money go fast. It came and it went.”79 Lucky Luciano's attitude toward money was not unusual. “The money rolled in. Sometimes it went out faster than I could steal it, but I liked the life,” Vinnie Teresa explains.80 Gambling was simply a form of regular entertainment for them. “We were at the track, shooting craps in Vegas, playing cards, and betting on anything that moved. Not a thrill like it in the world,” Henry Hill recalled fondly.81 This kind of economic consumption hardly fostered wealth. But goodfellas valued it more than retirement savings. After all, a Mafia soldier never knew how long he had.
MYTHS ABOUT THE WISEGUY LIFE
Now that we've seen what the life was, we should clear up what it was not. Let us dispense with some of the major myths about being a wiseguy.
Myth Number One: “Made My Bones”
The first myth is that no one could become a “made man” until he first murdered someone for the Mafia. Mario Puzo popularized the idea in the 1969 novel The Godfather by having Sonny Corleone say: “I ‘made my bones’ when I was nineteen, the last time the Family had a war.”82 The phrase referred to transforming a living human into a stack of bones.83
This idea was revived by the 1997 film Donnie Brasco, based loosely on FBI agent Joseph Pistone's infiltration of the Bonanno Family. In the climactic (fictionalized) scene, the FBI pulls Brasco off the hit that will let him become a “made man” only seconds before the target is about to be shot.84 But in his book, Joe Pistone described a highly malleable “rule” that was routinely disregarded. Pistone recalls how caporegimes “sometimes lied by omission on that issue to get a guy made,” saying that “close friends or relatives” were proposed for membership despite no hits, and that some prospects just paid off their caporegime to get made.85
The bloodbath from such a homicidal rule makes it incredible, too. There were approximately five thousand “made men” in Gotham by the 1950s. Given that some mob hitters killed several people, for each mafioso to “make his bones,” the homicides would exceed five thousand victims. Yet there were under six thousand total homicides from all sources in New York City during the 1930s. Even if these alleged mob corpses were spread over the 1940s and ’50s, the mayhem from that many gangland hits would have been intolerable. “It would have been impossible for every made guy to have killed for such exalted status,” concludes writer Carl Sifakis.86
Myth Number Two: “The Mafia's Code of Omertà”
Another myth is that, until recently, mafiosi strictly adhered to omertà (the code of silence). Joe Valachi is mistakenly called “the first Mob turncoat to break the Mafia's code of omertà.”87 But Valachi did not testify until 1963. Long before Valachi, mafiosi were singing to the G-men:
In the 1890s, Charles “Millionaire Charlie” Matranga testified in court against rival mafiosi in New Orleans. After the Matrangas were shot up, Charlie cooperated with the police in bringing charges against Joe Provenzano. In 1890, Matranga testified that Provenzano had threatened “bloodshed all along the wharf” if he did not get a piece of the waterfront.88
Francesco Siino was the boss of a 670-member cosche in southwestern Sicily. During a bloody fight with rivals, he became an informant for a questore (government official). “I know that the cause of persecution of so many sons of good mothers is none other than that infamous cop-lover Francesco Siino,” yelled a mafioso as he was being arrested.89
In the 1910s, the Morello Family, the “First Family” of New York, was crippled by informants. Facing prison time for counterfeiting, Salvatore Clemente, a close confidant of the Terranova brothers, became a paid informant for the United States Secret Service. For years, Clemente fed the Secret Service a steady stream of intelligence on the Morello Family.90
In 1921, New York City detective Michael Fiaschetti persuaded Bartolo Fontano to confess to a murder he participated in with a gang of mafiosi called “the Good Killers.” Fontana revealed an interstate network of mobsters, including future boss Stefano Magaddino.91
As the drug war heated up, mafiosi began trading information to avoid charges. As we saw earlier, in 1923, none other than Charles Luciano cooperated with federal agents to stay out of prison.
Then there is Nicola Gentile, who became a fugitive on drug charges in 1939. In his memoirs, Gentile boasts of exercising “superhuman control over myself” to resist interrogation. The State Department's files tell a different story: it was Gentile who was pester
ing the government for a deal. On March 29, 1940, a cable said Gentile had “given valuable information…and it is believed that his testimony would be valuable in pending cases.”92
Detroit mafioso Chester LaMare, meanwhile, had been informing for the United States Secret Service in its counterfeiting investigations.93
In 1937, Dr. Melchiorre Allegra revealed the inner workings of the Sicilian Mafia. Dr. Allegra was a physician in Sicily who became a member of the Pagliarelli Family. After he was arrested in 1937, Allegra agreed to give testimony about the Sicilian Mafia. Long before Valachi, Dr. Allegra testified about the structure, practices, and rituals of his cosche.94
In 1945, Peter “Petey Spats” LaTempa was to be the key witness corroborating Ernest “The Hawk” Rupolo's confession implicating Vito Genovese in the 1934 murder of Ferdinand Boccia. LaTempa committed suicide while in protective custody.95
In the early 1950s, Lucchese Family soldier Eugene Giannini was informing for the Federal Bureau of Narcotics. Giannini revealed secrets such as how “the mob is broken down in geographic organizations,” that Tommy Lucchese's “primary sphere of activity was in the garment center,” and that Lucchese had “group leaders” like Joseph Rosato under him. On September 20, 1952, a hit team sent by Joe Valachi shot Giannini twice in the head before symbolically dumping his body on East 107th Street.96
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