The Mob and the City

by C. Alexander Hortis

  Man of Honor in the Cornfield

  One of the New York City bosses ran like a rabbit into a cornfield. After apprehending Montana, Treasury Agent Brown and Trooper Sackel next found Joseph Bonanno and his uncle John Bonventre in the cornfield adjoining Barbara's property. At the substation, Trooper Vasisko questioned Bonanno, who at that time admitted he was at the house “visiting” his friend Joe Barbara.54

  To save face, Joe Bonanno later concocted a story that he was not at Barbara's home and was “wrongly implicated in the whole mess.” In his 1983 autobiography A Man of Honor, Bonanno claimed that while in Italy, he gave his driver's license to his brother-in-law to renew it, who gave it to another friend Gaspar DiGregorio. DiGregorio then just happened to be picked up by the police while on a hunting trip with John Bonventre in the vicinity of Apalachin. Bonanno called it a “messy haphazard juxtaposition of people and events—a human comedy.”55

  He was lying. What Bonanno did not realize was that the New York State Police also identified him through his social security card: “Identified through Social Security as Joseph Bonanno…. Had cards in his possession—Social Security Card 080-14-[XXXX].” He further “gave permanent address as 1847 East Elm Street, Tucson, Arizona”—Bonanno's new home out west.56 Moreover, the police found that no rifles or shotguns were in the men's possession, a major hole in Bonanno's hunting trip story, given how hard the troopers were looking for guns.57

  Runners in the Woods along McFadden Road

  Another set of runners made it to the woods east of Barbara's property, where they hid among the trees and cockleburs. To make matters worse, it started drizzling at 2:30 p.m.

  One has to feel a little bad for Tampa Bay boss Santo Trafficante. Earlier that week, Trafficante was basking in the tropical sun as manager of the Sans Souci Casino in Havana. This was just supposed to be a day trip, some business to take care of before his forty-third birthday on November 15. Albert Anastasia had been eyeing gambling in Cuba, so Trafficante came to lay down his marker. The gambling mogul flew in on the late-morning flight to Binghamton. He had barely arrived at Barbara's house before police were on the scene. In the woods, he met up with Carmine Lombardozzi and Michele Miranda, both caporegimes from New York.58

  At 3:30 p.m., Trafficante, Lombardozzi, and Miranda ventured onto McFadden Road, another road on the eastern side of the trees. A patrol car spotted the trio of wiseguys. Two troopers got out of the car and “ran towards these subjects, who started back into the woods.” The police fired four warning shots into the air before the mobsters finally stopped.59

  Real Estate Investors from Jersey

  A pair of hapless mobsters from the DeCavalcante Family of New Jersey could have been performing a comedy routine. During the panic, Francesco “Fat Frank” Majuri and Louis “Fat Lou” LaRasso took off huffing and puffing on foot. At about 2:15 p.m., they waved down Glenn Craig, a local resident driving by on Little Meadows Road. They told Craig they were looking for land; as luck would have it, Craig was looking to sell his land. After going through the ruse of negotiations, Majuri and LaRasso told Craig that they'd “get back within a week or so and they would try to get money from some union bank…in New Jersey.” They then offered him $10 for a ride to Binghamton. They did not get far. When a state trooper stopped Craig's car on McFadden Road, the corpulent, nattily dressed out-of-towners were obvious suspects.60

  The New Jerseyians gave perhaps the most laughable explanation for their presence in Apalachin. Majuri flatly denied knowing Barbara. He said that they were just looking “to purchase real estate” to build a summer cottage. According to their story, in the wee hours of November 14, 1957, Majuri and LaRasso spontaneously decided to jump on the 7:00 a.m. Pennsylvania Railroad train to Binghamton. They claimed they could not locate their real estate broker, so they took a taxicab to Apalachin and wandered around until it started drizzling.61

  Mobsters from out West

  As if by instinct, taking off in the opposite direction from the eastbound runners were a half-dozen mafiosi from western cities. From the City of Angels came mob boss Frank DeSimone and his underboss Simone Scozzari. DeSimone was actually a licensed attorney of the California bar when he assumed leadership of the Los Angles Family in 1956. During the panic, they went west across McFall Road into a stand of pine trees on the other side. They made it to Little Meadows Road, where they were apprehended by a patrol car. At the Vestal substation, the police searched Scozzari and found $600 in cash and a check for $8,445 to his order ($74,000 in 2013 dollars). Not bad, considering he told the state police he was unemployed.62

  Far less glamorous were a pair of bosses from small western families, James “Black Jim” Colletti of Pueblo, Colorado, and Frank Zito of Springfield, Illinois. They had remarkably similar lives. Both grew up in Sicily in the 1890s, came to America in the 1910s, and migrated west to work as miners: Colletti in the metals mines of Colorado; Zito in the coal mines of Illinois.63 Each forged himself into the crime boss of his mid-sized city: Colletti in Pueblo, population 63,000; and Zito in Springfield, population 81,000. They each collected revenues from gambling and vice in their cities. They also had some legitimate businesses: Colletti owned the Colorado Cheese Company; Zito held interests in taverns.64

  They even flew into Binghamton together that morning, and they were wandering the woods together by that afternoon. The police patrolling Little Meadows Road found an exhausted Zito sitting on the stoop of a house. His friend Colletti was standing nearby.65

  The Kansas City Taxicab Caper

  Kansas City boss Nick Civella and his caporegime Joseph Filardo had traveled by train to Binghamton, leaving them without transportation during the raid. This was somewhat ironic given Civella's influence over the International Brotherhood of Teamsters. By 1957, Civella was dipping into the Teamsters’ pension fund to finance mob ventures.66 During the round up, the Missouri men crossed McFall Road into the wilderness. They hiked for over a mile, and eventually found Apalachin Elementary School. There they asked to place a call for a taxicab. The sight of rough men in rumpled coats summoning a cab to an elementary school on a Thursday afternoon caused school staffers to call the police.67

  The state police sent out an all-points bulletin: stop a blue city cab with two male passengers believed traveling west to the Erie Railroad Station in Owego. Civella and Filardo really had no idea where they were going. Troopers reached the railroad station but found no sign of them; perhaps they missed a train. The troopers back at the Vestal substation could hardly believe their eyes when a blue city cab fitting the bulletin's description drove right past the substation. The police stopped the cab and questioned the taxicab's passengers. Civella claimed he was just a “salesman” and that he did not know any Joe Barbara.68

  Hunt for the Ohio Cadillac

  The Clevelanders, whose late reservations at the Parkway Motel triggered the ensuing events, very nearly escaped. During the raid, John Scalish and John DeMarco hiked through the woods and somehow made it back to the motel, where they had left their blue Cadillac that morning. They decided to get the hell out of Dodge. With their muddy shoes and trousers covered in burrs, Scalish and DeMarco got into their car and headed east on Route 17. Riding in the back seat were James La Duca and Roy Carlisi of Buffalo, who also had rooms at the Parkway Motel.

  Meanwhile, Croswell remembered that the Ohio Cadillac was still at the Parkway Motel. He was not going to give the Cleveland mobsters a car to slip through the net. The state police dispatched troopers from the Vestal substation to search for the blue Cadillac with Ohio plates HM-373. It was a close call. The car had already left the Parkway Motel. Squad cars whizzed down Route 17 in a hunt for the Ohio Cadillac. The Clevelanders made it past Endicott and reached the outskirts of Binghamton, where, at 4:40 p.m., they were pulled over by a trooper.69

  THE ESCAPEES

  Some mobsters eluded the dragnet that day. A handful of runners escaped on foot. Others stayed put in Barbara's house and waited out the police.

/>   The Hertz rental office in Endicott had unusual customers the evening of November 14, 1957. At 6:00 p.m., in walked Joseph Zerilli, boss of the Detroit mob, to rent a car for a one-way drive to Brooklyn. Around 8:00 p.m., in walked “Paul Scarcelli” and another man “in his early thirties.” Paul Scarcelli was the alias used by Mario Presta, Frank Costello's top wiseguy in New Orleans. Presta's traveling partner was Joseph Marcello, the younger brother of New Orleans boss Carlos Marcello. Presta and Marcello were runners from Barbara's house: the rental agent said they were “well dressed but in wet, bedraggled clothing.”70

  Carmine “Lilo” Galante got the last laugh on the state police. The narcotics trafficker had learned from his speeding incident. Rather than fleeing the scene, he laid low—literally. When the Barbaras’ housekeeper returned on Saturday, November 16, the spare bedroom downstairs was closed. “Don't go in,” Mrs. Barbara told her. The next morning, the housekeeper saw two men eat breakfast and leave with Emanuel Zicari. She identified one of the guests from a photograph: it was Galante.71

  After insisting the meeting be held in Apalachin, it would have been insulting for Buffalo boss Stefano Magaddino not to show up with his legion of men. Sure enough, the staties searched Barbara's barn and found a 1957 Lincoln coupe containing personalized luggage with the initials “S.M.” and worn garments and papers marked “Steve Magaddino.”72

  Meanwhile, the Pennsylvania police discovered that San Francisco underboss James Lanza and San Jose boss Joseph Cerrito stayed at the Hotel Casey in Scranton, Pennsylvania, on November 13 as guests of Russell Bufalino. Meanwhile, Pittsburgh boss John LaRocca registered at the Arlington Hotel on November 13 with his underboss Michael Genovese.73

  The big men from Chicago, the second city of the mob, seem to have been present, too. Confidential FBI memoranda report that Sam Giancana and Tony Accardo “were in attendance at the Apalachin meeting [and] both escaped the police raid.”74 FBI agent William Roemer, who ran a wiretap on the Chicago Outfit, confirms their attendance as well. Giancana's daughter has also revealed that her father said he escaped at Apalachin by running into the woods. Given Chicago's seat on the Commission, it would have been surprising had they not attended.75

  On Friday afternoon, November 15, 1957, the police spotted twenty-four-year-old Lucchese Family soldier Neil Migliore's 1957 Lincoln at Barbara's house, and his car was later involved in an automobile accident in Binghamton at 8:00 p.m. that same evening. The State Commission had a confidential informant who reported that Migliore only “came to Binghamton to drive other participants of the Apalachin meeting of New York City” and it was “not believed that he attended the meeting.”76

  So, who was Migliore picking up? The State Commission had another informant who placed New York boss Thomas Lucchese in the area,77 and the state police found a business card of his caporegime Carmine Tramunti near Barbara's estate.78 Both would have been welcome at the meeting. But there is no wiretap, eyewitness testimony, hotel reservation, or other physical evidence to prove Lucchese's or Tramunti's attendance, so they remain suspected attendees.

  In sum, there is proof for seventy-two men in attendance at the Apalachin meeting, as shown in table 10–1. There has been speculation about others,79 but no solid evidence.80 Though some mafiosi may have avoided all detection whatsoever, there were likely fewer than a dozen. None of the eyewitnesses at the commission hearings or at the subsequent federal trial testified to seeing “100+ mobsters in attendance,” as suggested by writers.81 Rather, the best eyewitness testimony was by Marguerite Russell, the Barbara's former housekeeper, who was one of the few nonmobsters in the house. She testified that “between 60 and 70” men were in attendance, with “possibly more.”82 For his part, Croswell said, “I don't think more than three or four could possibly have gotten away.”83 The State Commission and the FBI conducted aggressive nationwide investigations of other possible escapees, using confidential informants, field agents, and wiretaps. It is unlikely that dozens more mobsters avoided detection altogether.

  THURSDAY NIGHT, NOVEMBER 14, 1957, THE INTERROGATIONS

  As night fell, the last automobiles trickled down McFall Road. Around 8:15 p.m., the Pennsylvania mobsters still in the house gave up their wait. Pittsburgh underboss Mike Genovese, his caporegime Gabriel Mannarino, and Pittston mafiosi James Osticco and Angelo Sciandra drove fatefully to the roadblock.84

  Back at the Vestal substation, the state police were overrun with mobsters. “The place was a madhouse. The uniformed men were running back and telling me such and such a car,” recounted Croswell. “The place was just in turmoil.” In the BCI office, the Teletype machine was clicking away with transmittals of prison records revealing the sordid backgrounds of the detained men. The mafiosi had the run of the rest of the substation, from the recreation room to the two bedrooms to the other offices.85

  Over the next several hours, the police searched and questioned all the men. They found no guns, but lots of money: several men were carrying $2,000 to $3,000 in rolls of bills (about $16,000 to $24,000 in current dollars). The Mafia clearly ran a cash business. Trooper Vasisko took the lead in interrogating the attendees. The questioning got nowhere though. Most kept repeating the refrain: they “came up to visit a sick friend, Joseph Barbara.”86

  Sergeant Croswell called his superiors in the state police to discuss whether they could hold the men on any criminal charges. Gun violations? They found no firearms. Disorderly conduct? The men were calm. Conspiracy? Potentially, but they had no evidence of what was being planned. Besides, with their cash, the men would easily make bail. So they were released.87

  FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1957

  After finishing the interrogations at 1:00 a.m., Croswell stayed up the rest of the night fielding calls pouring in from reporters. The news went national overnight. “POLICE NAB 67 MAFIA CHIEFS IN BACKWOODS,” blared the front page of the Chicago Tribune. “Cops Seize 67 Big-Shot Racketeers,” echoed the San Francisco Chronicle. The New York Times headline read, “65 Hoodlums Seized in a Raid and Run out of Upstate Village.” The Daily News meanwhile declared, “SIEZE 62 MAFIA CHIEFTANS IN UPSTATE RAID.”88

  Within days, officials were announcing investigations of Apalachin. In Albany, Governor Averell Harriman ordered State Investigations Commissioner Arthur Reuter to “look into the activities and associations” of the attendees. Meanwhile, a state legislative watchdog committee began serving subpoenas to probe the “criminal intent” of the gathering. Grand juries were underway, too. Down in Washington, DC, the McClellan Committee investigating labor racketeering had recently heard testimony from the Federal Bureau of Narcotics (FBN) about the Mafia. “I've seen the list of these fellows—and some of them, we are interested in,” said Robert F. Kennedy, chief counsel to the McClellan Committee.89

  FBI Director Hoover made no public statements.

  APALACHIN MYTHS AND MISPERCEPTIONS

  Like everything about the Mafia, myths and misperceptions have cropped up around the Apalachin meeting. The popular image of Apalachin is that it was deep in the hinterlands, a ridiculous place to hold a meeting of the mob. In its December 1957 issue, Life magazine mocked the venue, writing, “You wouldn't think that would be noticed in a town the size of Apalachin (pop. 277), especially since one of the Caddies was an old 1956.”90 The 1999 film Analyze This (Warner Brothers) starring Robert De Niro, plays up the setting to comic effect: wiseguys are portrayed threatening cows and hijacking a farmer's tractor to escape.

  Apalachin was, in fact, in the heart of a manufacturing region full of mafiosi. Joe Barbara's home was only eight miles from his bottling plant in Endicott, a factory town of fifteen thousand, and it was only fifteen miles outside Binghamton, a booming industrial city of eighty-five thousand. The Cosa Nostra had a strong presence in the area. “The Mafia was considered a local fraternal organization. There were perhaps fifty families in Endicott thought to be ‘connected,’” remembered Ron Luciano, who grew up in Endicott. “When Sicilian immigrants flooded into America, the
town of Endicott attracted many Castellammarese,” adds Joe Bonanno.91

  Another set of conflicting myths paints the state troopers either as innocent rubes who fell upon a meeting of the mob or as devious cops bent on extracting bribes from it. “The Hick Cops Bust up Joe's Nice Barbecue,” chuckled Life.92 Taking a different tact, Joe Bonanno tried to smear the state troopers as corrupt. Bonanno claimed they were “getting greedy and were making exorbitant demands on Barbara in exchange for their cooperation.”93 None of these myths is true.

  As should be evident, Sergeant Croswell was no country bumpkin. Rather, Croswell was an intrepid, savvy, and resourceful investigator; he was a detective's detective. Conversely, Joe Bonanno's corruption smear is just that—a smear. This book has documented many cops in league with the mob. But this label does not apply to Sergeant Croswell and Troop C of the New York State Police. Reporters who covered Croswell invariably describe him as “incorruptible,” a “dedicated police officer,” and “honest, alert and conscientious.”94 Further, Bonanno fails to explain how his caporegime Carmine Galante could have spent ninety days in jail there in 1956 if Troop C could be bought. Croswell and Vasisko had rejected a bribe attempt.

  Although Croswell was an honest cop, some of his freelance tactics were controversial even at the time. An appellate judge dubbed him “a modern Inspector Javert” after reviewing his thirteen-year personal campaign against Barbara.95 The state police's detention of the men was of questionable legality in 1957, and it would almost certainly be ruled unconstitutional today. Under the Fourth Amendment, the state police had no reasonable suspicion or probable cause of criminal activity to detain, search, and question the men for hours at the Vestal substation. All that the state police knew was that individuals with criminal records had parked their cars at a private residence.96 “Actually, we had no legal basis for doing what we did do,” Croswell later candidly admitted. “If we stuck directly to the letter of the law, we couldn't have found out what we did,” he acknowledged.97