Junior to Face Jury Solo

Friends of ours: John Gotti Jr., Michael Yannotti, John Gotti

When John Gotti Jr. goes on trial again in February, he'll face the jury alone. A federal judge yesterday acquitted Gotti co-defendant Michael Yannotti on charges he participated in a botched kidnapping plot against radio host Curtis Sliwa in 1992. A jury previously acquitted Yannotti of attempted murder for allegedly shooting Sliwa as he and another Gambino posing as a cabby tried to snatch him in a yellow taxi.

In a 26-page written opinion, Manhattan Federal Judge Shira Scheindlin sided with defense lawyer Diarmuid White, finding that Yannotti could not be retried on the remaining charge based on technical legal grounds stemming from the jury's vote. Yannotti will instead proceed directly to sentencing as the jury convicted him of additional racketeering conspiracy charges that could land him behind bars for 20 years.

Gotti, the 41-year-old son of the late Gambino boss John "Dapper Don" Gotti, still stands accused of ordering and orchestrating the kidnapping of Sliwa after the jury delivered a hung verdict on that charge.

On the Lighter Side

Because some kid sent this to me and it made me chuckle, I present to you the Real Internet Mafia .

My favorite was the mention of a $10,000 bill. Who knew those existed?
I hope his Mom lets him finish the site soon. :-)

Sam "Momo" Giancana Index

Sam Giancana was a famous and powerful mafioso and boss of the Chicago Outfit from 1957-66. Originally nicknamed "Mooney", when he became Boss, Giancana shortened it to "Momo", which stood for "More Money". Born in Chicago's "Little Italy," Sam Giancana was arrested more than 70 times in his life, but was imprisoned only twice.

Giancana started his criminal career in the 1920s on Chicago's West Side as a member of a violent street gang called "The 42s". He soon developed a reputation for being an excellent getaway driver, high earner and vicious killer. These qualities got him noticed by the successor to Al Capone, Frank "The Enforcer" Nitti. It is widely reputed Giancana and other mobsters had been recruited by the CIA during the waning days of the Eisenhower administration to assassinate Cuban dictator Fidel Castro, who had taken power in January 1959. Giancana was himself reported to have said that the CIA and the Mafia are "different sides of the same coin." It is also widely reputed that at roughly the same time Joseph P. Kennedy recruited Giancana to help mobilize labor union voter and financial support behind his son, Massachusetts Senator John F. Kennedy in the latter's bid to secure the Democratic nomination for the 1960 Presidential election.

There are also strong suggestions that during his presidency, JFK maintained close links with Giancana and the Chicago Mafia as he continued the practice of covertly using the Mafia in a bid to assassinate Castro. The two men also shared the same lover, Los Angeles socialite Judith Campbell who also apparently acted as a courier between the two men, passing money and information.

Giancana was forced to step down as Mafia boss in 1966 because of his greed (refusing to share the profits of his Latin American gambling operations--a major violation of Mafia protocol) excessively high-profile personal behavior (openly associating with various popular entertainers like singers Phyllis McGuire and Frank Sinatra) and serious legal problems, serious enough to have had the FBI place Giancana under close, intense and relentless surveillance. In response to these setbacks, the dethroned Giancana spent the next seven years (1967-74) in exile in Cuernavaca, Mexico until the Mexican government (under pressure from the US Justice Department) had him deported to the United States. Returning to Chicago, Giancana was assassinated on 19 June 1975 in the basement of his home in Oak Park, Illinois (which had been under close FBI and Chicago Police observation) shortly before he was to appear before a Senate committee investigating CIA and Mafia links to plots to kill Castro.

The unknown assassin shot Giancana in the head seven times with a silenced .22 caliber handgun. Although some suspected the CIA was responsible for the shooting (as Giancana had a somewhat troubled history with the agency), CIA Director William Colby was quoted as saying, "We had nothing to do with it." Many researchers believe Colby's claim as it seems much more likely that Giancana's onetime friend and Chicago Mafia boss Joseph "Joey Doves" Aiuppa ordered the hit on the disgraced "Momo" because he had become too talkative and Aiuppa feared Giancana would reveal everything he knew about Chicago mob operations (including Giancana's alleged complicity in orchestrating the JFK assassination) during his upcoming Senate committee appearance.

Crime Commission Officially Gains New Boss

Former FBI agent James Wagner ws officially introduced on December 14th as the new boss at the Chicago Crime Commission, a mixed blessing for the good citizens of our city and state.

On the plus side, it should prove an exciting shot in the arm for the Crime Commission, the venerable civic organization that was born in the lawlessness of Chicago circa 1919 and thrived on a crimebusting image earned during the heyday of Chicago hoodlums, but has seemed to struggle with its sense of purpose in recent decades.

In Wagner, the Crime Commission gets a real law-enforcement veteran with not only historical perspective but up-to-date knowledge of organized crime, both the players and their activities -- the mission that should remain at the top of the commission's reasons to exist.

Wagner, though, gained some of his knowledge during the past six years as the top investigator for the Illinois Gaming Board, which is where the downside to the public factors into the equation. The Gaming Board, which rides herd on Illinois' riverboat gambling industry, was already woefully short of investigators, whose not-so-simple task is to keep organized crime from infiltrating the casinos. Losing Wagner could be another serious blow.

Because of state budget cuts and hiring freezes under Gov. Blagojevich, the Gaming Board has gone from 18 investigators when Wagner started there to just eight at present. "That's just not enough to do the job over there," Wagner told me Tuesday, admitting that frustration with the situation at the Gaming Board was a major factor in his decision to leave after he was recruited for the Crime Commission opening.

There are 10,000 casino employees in Illinois, each of whom has to undergo a background check by the investigative staff before they can be licensed. Owners and managers are supposed to get more extensive background investigations. The Gaming Board also must investigate the companies that supply gaming equipment to the casinos. "I really was not comfortable we had enough people to do a satisfactory job. We did the best we could, but I would strongly recommend that the state increase the manpower there," said Wagner with the understatement one would expect from a career FBI agent.

Does that mean the door has already been left open for organized crime to get a foothold in Illinois? "I wouldn't go that far," Wagner said. "My concern is that it has left open the opportunity for infiltration that would be unbeknownst to us because we're not looking in all the places that we should be looking."

It's a warning that Gaming Board officials have been issuing for several years now -- to no avail. State government has many unmet needs at present, but sooner or later, this one is going to catch up to us.

It was my first chance to meet Wagner, a distinguished-looking 62-year-old with a full head of silvery hair who grew up on a farm in downstate Newman and taught high school four years before joining the FBI in 1969.

Wagner had just come up on retirement age when federal prosecutor Sergio Acosta took over as administrator of the Gaming Board and persuaded Wagner, then the coordinator of the bureau's Chicago Organized Crime Section, to join him in March 2000. His tenure included the investigation that so far has helped block Emerald Casino from locating a new riverboat in Rosemont, partially based on organized crime concerns.

Returning to the bright side, Wagner can continue this kind of work from the bully pulpit provided by the Crime Commission, which will benefit from someone who has credibility with the law enforcement community and the news media, although the latter will need to persuade him to loosen up a bit.

To many, the Crime Commission must seem an anachronism, a throwback to the days when organized crime figures operated openly and conspicuously within this city. But the Hired Truck scandal at City Hall, the still unfolding Family Secrets investigation and even the Emerald episode have provided fresh evidence that organized crime is still active in our city, having burrowed deeply into our institutions.

Wagner offers a sobering perspective. "Organized crime is alive and well in Chicago and, unfortunately, probably always will be," he said. "There is a concerted effort on the part of some, I don't know if you'd call them apologists, but people often like to believe we put them out of business by putting them in jail, and that doesn't eradicate anything. They're still there, and they're still working."

"They are strong. They have done a great job of insulating themselves through investments and what we would consider to be legitimate businesses and getting out of the limelight and going below into the shadows again." Wagner should find plenty to keep him busy. Let's make sure the Gaming Board is empowered to move forcefully to complete the work he left behind.

Thanks to Mark Brown

Overheard: Mafia in Las Vegas

The Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Bureau assured incoming tourists Monday the city will be heavily guarded on New Year's. There's very little danger. The terrorists would never attack a Mafia holy site, if only out of professional courtesy.

Junior Gotti is Happy with Lawyer

Friends of ours: Junior Gotti, Gambino Crime Family, Louis "Louie Black" Mariani

A judge warned John A. "Junior" Gotti on Wednesday that his lawyer has a conflict of interest, but the son of late mob boss John Gotti said he's happy with his representation in an upcoming racketeering retrial.

Federal Judge Shira Scheindlin said attorney Charles Carnesi might be forced to give Gotti biased advice because he also represents a co-defendant. "I think you'd be better off with a lawyer who has no conflict problems," Scheindlin bluntly told Gotti, who shrugged off the conflict. Gotti said Carnesi was the best lawyer for him because he was already familiar with the case, which goes to trial again Feb. 13.

Scheindlin offered to let Gotti speak for free to a neutral lawyer she had invited to court solely for that purpose. "I'm OK," Gotti said. Then he added, "It would be the first free lawyer I've ever spoken with."

Carnesi represented reputed Gambino crime family associate Louis "Louie Black" Mariani at a trial that ended in September with a conviction of Mariani for securities fraud and a mistrial on charges against Gotti. Mariani is to be sentenced March 30. "I'm absolutely convinced I can represent them both," Carnesi said.

Gotti dismissed lawyer Jeffrey Lichtman after his first trial ended with a deadlocked jury on charges that he ordered a botched 1992 plot to kidnap Curtis Sliwa, a radio show host and founder of the Guardian Angels crime-fighting group. Gotti is free on $7 million bond.

Gambino Hit Man is Free

Friends of ours: Gambino Crime Family, Dominick "Skinny Dom" Pizzonia, John Gotti

An alleged Gambino hit man was released on a $3 million bond yesterday - even though the accused double murderer is charged with committing a crime while out on bail. Dominick "Skinny Dom" Pizzonia, 64, is awaiting trial on charges of extorting money in 2001 - while he was awaiting trial on another extortion case. Authorities will be able to keep an eye on him this time around because, as part of his bail terms, Pizzonia will be on home detention and his movements will be monitored electronically.

The extortion raps could be the least of his problems. Prosecutors say Pizzonia rubbed out a husband-and-wife robbery team that targeted mobbed-up social clubs. Thomas and Rosemary Uva became the Mafia's top enemies in 1992 when they targeted locales run by the five crime families. Thomas, 28, would bust into the clubs brandishing an Uzi submachine gun, while his 31-year-old wife stayed behind the wheel of their getaway car.

Their mobster victims dubbed the pair "Bonnie and Clyde," and the couple seemed to know that they'd meet the same fate as their notorious namesakes. When one mobster told Thomas the Mafia would kill him, he shrugged and said, "Everybody dies."

Brooklyn federal prosecutors say Pizzonia was the one who caught up with them on Christmas Eve 1992. They were both shot in the head while sitting in a car at an intersection in Ozone Park, Queens. Their car kept rolling and collided with another vehicle before coming to a stop against a curb. Pizzonia is also charged with the 1988 murder of a mob underling.

Prosecutors say he was running his latest extortion scam while on bail pending trial in the 2001 case, and then again after he pleaded guilty and was awaiting sentencing. Prosecutors signed off on Pizzonia's $3 million bail package at a hearing in front of Judge Jack Weinstein yesterday.

Pizzonia, who reportedly was once placed in charge of "Dapper Don" John Gotti's Bergin Hunt and Fish Club, was able to raise the bond money after his son Frank and other relatives put up six of their properties. He's expected to stand trial on racketeering charges — including extortion and murder — in June.

Thanks to Heidi Singer

"Mafia" Cop Had a Mole

Friends of ours: Lucchese Crime Family, Anthony "Gaspipe" Casso
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Caracappa

Just months before being exposed as an alleged Mafia hit man, one of the accused mob cops bragged about a high-ranking NYPD member slipping him unauthorized identification under the table, feds say. Disgraced ex-Detective Louis Eppolito was caught on a wiretap earlier this year describing how he was given credentials that state he is an active New York cop, despite living in Las Vegas and having retired more than a decade ago, according to a letter filed by prosecutors last week. Eppolito, 57, claimed he was given the card by a prominent city cop, whom the Brooklyn U.S. Attorney's Office did not identify.

Eppolito - who is accused of "routinely divulging sensitive law-enforcement information in exchange for money" - also boasted about how easily he could still access driver-registration records, thanks to his lasting ties with local cops. The comments were made public by the feds in a court document asking that the identities of jurors deciding Eppolito's fate be kept secret.

Eppolito and his alleged partner in crime, former Detective Stephen Caracappa, 63, are charged with handing over names of cooperating witnesses to the Luchese crime family - intelligence that was used to commit nine rubouts between 1986 and 1991. Caracappa is believed to have been the triggerman in one of the slayings.

Prosecutors say the two were on $4,000 retainer to jailed Luchese underboss Anthony "Gaspipe" Casso. "The defendants have demonstrated . . . a propensity to obstruct the fair working of the criminal justice system," prosecutor Robert Henoch wrote in his letter to Brooklyn federal court Judge Jack Weinstein.

"The history of selling information and using murder to obstruct criminal investigations is strong evidence for the need of an anonymous jury." If the judge decides their identities should not be revealed, the jurors would be escorted to and from the courthouse by federal marshals throughout the trial. "There's really no reason to have [an anonymous jury]," said Caracappa's lawyer, Ed Hayes, adding that he may try to block the government's request.

The trial is expected to get under way in February.

Thanks to Zach Haberman

New Head of Major Mafia Family

Friends of ours: John Gotti, John "Jackie Nose" D'Amico, Petter Gotti, Junior Gotti, Nicholaz "Little Nick" Corozzo, Gambino Crime Family, Arnold "Zeke" Squitieri

Meet the new John Gotti.

John (Jackie Nose) D'Amico, the Dapper Don's longtime sidekick and confidant, has emerged as the new acting boss of the Gambino crime family, law enforcement officials told the Daily News. D'Amico, known as a dapper dresser himself with a gift for gab and a way with the ladies, even confirmed to The News that he was a "boss."

Well, sort of. "I'm the boss of my house and my bathroom," said D'Amico, 69. "When I go in my house and my bathroom and close the door, I'm the boss." The comment sounds like a tribute to something his dear friend John Gotti often said to reporters: "I'm the boss of my family, my wife and kids."

It was a line D'Amico probably heard a thousand times as the Dapper Don's constant companion on the town and in court. But despite his common-man self-portrayal, law enforcement authorities say D'Amico is the new Don. "It's apparent from a number of directions that Jackie is the street boss right now," one source said. "He is speaking with authority. He's not the same person from eight months ago."

D'Amico, known more as a lover than a fighter, may not have had the respect in the past of tough guys in the crime family, but his skills of diplomacy are needed now more than muscle is. "He's a very personable individual," said Bruce Mouw, the retired head of the FBI's Gambino squad. "He can be a diplomat, a mediator. He's not a hard-liner. They need someone to rally people together."

Law enforcement sources say that after Gotti was convicted in 1992 and sent away for life, a ruling panel consisting of D'Amico and fellow Gambino capos Peter Gotti and Nicholas (Little Nick) Corozzo was designated to assist the Dapper Don's son John A. (Junior) Gotti in running the crime family.

When Junior Gotti and D'Amico were pinched on racketeering charges in 1998, Peter Gotti, the Dapper Don's brother, became boss. Fast-forward to the present, with the beleaguered crime family beset by leadership woes.

Junior Gotti claims he has quit the Mafia. Peter Gotti was convicted of racketeering, and the former acting boss, Arnold (Zeke) Squitieri, is under indictment. But D'Amico, son of a television repairman from the East Village, insisted the feds and cops have it all wrong.

He said his life has none of the trappings of a Mafia boss. "I'm insignificant, I'm not important," said D'Amico. "I take the 4 train, the 5 train, the 6 train. That's the only way I travel. I don't have a chauffeur-driven car."

D'Amico, who earned his nickname because of his "Romanesque nose," according to the recent testimony of a mob turncoat, dismissed talk about his mob ascension as lies told by snitches. These confidential informants want to ingratiate themselves (with law enforcement), so they can keep on selling drugs," he said.

Still, D'Amico's supposed promotion makes sense for several reasons. Corozzo, the other logical heir to the Gambino throne, is said to be preoccupied these days with health issues and remains on supervised release, which bars him from meeting with goodfellas.

Mob watchers say D'Amico was never much of an earner for the Gambinos, which is the main function of a Mafia family. In fact, Mouw said, "D'Amico was always broke, constantly in debt, a degenerate gambler. John Gotti loved him because ... Jackie was his fellow gambler who placed all his bets for him."

For a while, D'Amico dabbled in a phone-card business and cruised around in a Jaguar, courtesy of a supposed job as a salesman at a Crystal Geyser water distributor in Brooklyn.

These days, D'Amico lives in an Upper East Side high-rise in Manhattan and is known to frequent Fresco, a popular Italian restaurant in Manhattan.

In his conversation with The News, he expressed concern about what his neighbors will think after reading this story. "Go bother the people that are ruining the country, Cheney and Bush," he said. "There are plenty of things more important than who I am or not."

He still owns a modest, split-level home in Hillsdale, N.J., where his wife, Rosalie, resides. "You're not going to get any information from me," she said when a reporter knocked at her door last week. "He comes and goes. That's the way it's been for the past 40 years."

Few heads at Chin Funeral

Friends of ours: Vincent "Chin" Gigante, John Gotti, Mario Gigante, Genovese Crime Family, Frank Costello

Pallbearers carry a coffin with the body of former Mafia boss Vincent (Chin) Gigante out of St. Anthony of Padua Church in the Village after a simple service attended by few mobsters. There were no garish floral arrangements yesterday and only a few shiny limos with refrigerator-size guys. Hardly a capo showed up. Mostly, the funeral of the legendary Mafia boss Vincent (Chin) Gigante was a quiet reminder of an Old World Greenwich Village that is disappearing day by day.

Gigante, after all, was an underworld dinosaur, an old-time gangster who dodged prison for decades by shuffling unshaven about the Village in a bathrobe, muttering that Jesus was his lawyer. His final tribute reflected the fallen state of the Mafia, with hardly any mobsters seen paying their final respects at the St. Anthony of Padua Church on Sullivan St.

It was a modest affair, nothing like the 2002 funeral for mob boss John Gotti, when 19 open-air cars packed with flowers paraded about Queens.

The attendees mainly were family and friends, including Gigante's brother, Mario, a reputed captain in the Genovese family, Gigante's wife, Olympia, and several of his children.

The service was held a few blocks down Sullivan St. from the tiny apartment where Gigante lived for years with his mother. It was presided over by another of his brothers, the Rev. Louis Gigante.

Rev. Gigante, who stood by his sibling even after Vincent had admitted the crazy act was just that, did his best to preserve the image of his brother as a man misunderstood. "The world had a different view of him through the media," he declared. "But we, his family, his friends, the people of Greenwich Village, me, his brothers, his mother and father, we all knew him as a gentle man, a man of God."

To a church three-quarters full, the priest presented the powerful gangster as a lonely throwback wedded to his rapidly changing neighborhood. "Vincent never traveled," the priest said. "He was always on Sullivan St., walking and helping others, neglecting himself."

No mention was made of Gigante's status as Godfather of the most powerful crime family in America. No one recalled that Gigante once parted the hair of mobster Frank Costello with a bullet, shouting, "This one's for you, Frank!"

Instead there was the story of a 77-year-old man dying alone in a prison somewhere in the Midwest, neglected. As the priest saw it, the government that pursued his brother for decades finally did him in. "In the eight years Vincent was in prison, I visited him 19 times. There wasn't a day he didn't suffer," said Rev. Gigante. "He did his time like a man. He was going to come home. He was dying to come home. But he couldn't. They allowed him to die."

Then the white-gloved pallbearers did their job, carrying the coffin piled high with red and white poinsettias down the aisle and into the pre-Christmas chill.

In the end, Vincent (Chin) Gigante emerged from his childhood church, carried out into a Village the old mob boss would have barely recognized.

Thanks to Greg Smith

Christmas on the Lam

Friends of ours: Joe "Joe Dogs" Iannuzzi, Genovese Crime Family, Tommy Argo, Gambino Crime Family, Colombo Crime Family, Carmine "The Snake" Persico, Henry Hill

Sing a sad Christmas song for Joe Dogs.

On Dec. 25, when much of the world opens presents beneath the tree or enjoys a turkey dinner, Joe Iannuzzi will spend another lonely holiday far from his family, his friends, his city. Maybe knock back a couple of drinks, probably shed a few tears.

"It's sad," says Joe Dogs, whose nickname pays homage to a long fascination with gambling on greyhounds. "Very sad." And very predictable, given Iannuzzi's past. Once a made member of New York's Genovese crime family, Iannuzzi survived a vicious mob beating in 1981 that left him near dead. He awoke in a Florida hospital to find a priest giving him the last rites.

Months later, Iannuzzi recovered. He became convinced that revenge, even more than laughter, was the best medicine. He became an informer, testified at a dozen trials, put away some old pals. A botched mob hit sent him into the federal Witness Protection Program. And now, 24 years after he flipped for the feds, every Christmas brings a reminder of what he left behind.

Joe Dogs may eat alone on Christmas, but he's not the only one. Since 1971, more than 7,700 witnesses were relocated after testifying for the federal government at the risk of their lives. Not all wound up as lonesome as Iannuzzi; 9,800 family members were relocated with them. But they're all far from home, and for many, the holidays are a melancholy time.

"There's tremendous pressure to return home. We sympathize with it, but that's absolutely forbidden," says Dave Turner of the U.S. Marshals Service, which runs witness protection.

Ianuzzi hasn't gone home. He abandoned the high-end world of New York and Florida for low-profile homes in Tennessee, North Carolina, Alabama. He now resides in an undisclosed Midwest location where "I gotta travel 100 miles to go to a decent restaurant."

He's gotten used to the rootless life but not Christmas on the lam. "The very worst for me," Iannuzzi says over the phone from his apartment, his accent still betraying his New York roots. "I never had the warm feelings that a normal individual would have during that holiday. ... I haven't been around my family since 1982. "You count the Christmas days."

It wasn't always this way. When he was with the mob, every day was a holiday, and he greeted every maitre d' and doorman with a flash of cash. The son of a suburban bookie, he grew up among mobsters north of the Bronx. His first arrest came at age 14. He worked briefly as a dognapper, returning the pilfered pooches once their owners posted a reward.

Iannuzzi had a straight gig as a cook, working in diners and hot dog stands. It was at a classy restaurant in Cleveland that he received professional training, emerging as a saucier. But after a year, he longed for home. "It was time for me to leave," he says. "So I stole a car and went back to New York. It was less expensive that way. I stole a pink Lincoln. Can you imagine? I kept it for a couple of months then parked the car near a place called 'Buzzy's Big Nightclub.' "It still had the Ohio plates."

Three marriages and five kids followed as Iannuzzi burrowed deeper into organized crime. He moved to Florida and became the protege of Gambino soldier Tommy Agro - a hoodlum straight off a Hollywood lot, with a flashy wardrobe, a big bankroll and a short fuse.

Iannuzzi provided muscle for Agro, who loaned him money to launch a loan-sharking operation. But as Joe Dogs fell behind on the payments, their friendship faded and Agro's anger grew. On Jan. 19, 1981, inside a Florida pizzeria, Iannuzzi took a terrible beating from his one-time mentor and some cronies.

His last memory before everything went black was Agro's alligator loafer sinking forcefully into his ribs. When he finally recovered, Iannuzzi joined up with the FBI and taped his fellow Mafiosi discussing their illicit businesses. "All these guys convicted themselves with their big mouths," Iannuzzi says. "All I did was tape it. They all talked their heads off."

When the chatter finally stopped, Colombo boss Carmine "The Snake" Persico went to jail along with another dozen mobsters - including the brutal Agro, who died of cancer in 1987.

Iannuzzi went into witness protection after surviving a murder attempt on a Florida interstate. Today he demurs when asked if he's ever killed somebody: "My answer is, 'That's a rude question.' Let's go onto another subject."

Iannuzzi soon was supplementing his witness protection stipend as a writer. But he was booted from the program in October 1993 after violating its rules: He returned to New York to promote "The Mob Cookbook" on David Letterman's show. He would have to protect himself.

Iannuzzi just published another book, "Cooking on the Lam," which intersperses recipes for brook trout amandine and strawberries with Grand Marinier sauce with tales of life in and out of the mob. It's his fourth book; in his biggest non-mob score, he was paid $250,000 for his autobiography. "How many people wrote one book, much less four?" he asks. "I'm trying to do things the hard way: honest."

Iannuzzi stays in contact with one of his daughters, who calls him 10 times a day. "She loves her dad," he says. He avoids contact with all of his other old friends and stays away from New York and its environs.

Iannuzzi knows sitting alone on Christmas is not necessarily the worst thing. Henry Hill, the infamous mob informant whose story became the Oscar-winning movie "GoodFellas," won't be alone this Christmas - he'll share his meal with the rest of the inmates at the Lincoln County Jail in North Platte, Neb. Hill, a fellow witness protection alumnus, is finishing up a six-month stretch following his July arrest on drug charges.

At 74, Joe Dogs has slowed down quite a bit. He recently survived "triple A surgery" - operations on his aorta, abdomen and an aneurysm. He shares his apartment with two Yorkshire terriers and confides some of the tamer old tales to a few locals.

"Some of them are still scared to death of me," says Iannuzzi. "I don't know why. I'm a nice guy. I say that every day to myself."

Thanks to Larry McShane

It's Not Unusual

Tom Jones received Mafia protection when he relocated from his native Wales to America.
The singer, who has made his home in Los Angeles, confesses he was a little nervous of the gangster offer but now enjoys the fearsome security - even though it's totally unnecessary.

He says, "My manager was half expecting someone to come forward and want something. But that didn't happen, as far as I know."

"The only thing I used to get was, 'If anyone leans on you, you call.' But nobody leaned on me, so luckily I didn't have to call.

"They were protecting me, rather than wanting anything."

Remembering the PJ Don

Friends of ours: Vincent "Chin" Gigante, Genovese Crime Family, John Gotti, Paul Castellano, Gambino Crime Family. Thomas Eboli, Vito Genovese, Frank Costello, Phillip Lombardo, Mario Gigante

Vincent "Chin" Gigante, boss of the Genovese crime family, who was noted for walking the streets of the Village near his Sullivan St. social club dressed in pajamas and bathrobe and mumbling to himself, died in a federal prison hospital in Missouri on Dec. 19 at the age of 77. He was serving a 12-year sentence for racketeering, conspiring to kill the late John Gotti for Gotti's role in the unsanctioned killing of the Gambino crime boss Paul Castellano, and for obstructing justice by pretending - successfully for three decades - to be mad in order to avoid criminal prosecution. Gigante died of an apparent heart attack at 5:15 a.m. in the same Springfield, Mo., federal prison medical center where Gotti and other underworld bosses died.

He was a promising light-heavyweight boxer whose ring career in the 1940s was managed by Thomas Eboli, a reputed mobster. Impressed by Gigante's 21 boxing wins, the mob boss Vito Genovese took him under his wing. A doorman at The Majestic apartments on Central Park West identified Gigante as the shooter in the 1957 attempted assassination of the crime lord Frank Costello, whom Genovese was trying to supplant. Costello survived the shooting but refused to identify Gigante and the charges were dropped.

Gigante rose in the Genovese family and in 1985 became the boss, succeeding Philip Lombardo, according to a Daily News article. But Chin began his bizarre and deceptive behavior as early as 1969 when he was first hospitalized for psychiatric examination. He finally gave up the mad act in 2003 after federal investigators found prison witnesses who heard Gigante speaking very sanely on the telephone, according to a Daily News article

Gigante got his nickname because his mother called him Vincenzo (pronounced Vinchenzo). Born March 29, 1928, he was the third of five brothers. His mother moved into the Mitchell-Lama co-op at 505 LaGuardia Pl., and Gigante - who always had an apartment of his own in the South Village - frequently visited there until she died a few years ago.

City Councilmember Alan Gerson, who grew up in 505 LaGuardia Pl. and still lives there, said it was known that Gigante often came by the apartment of his mother, who spoke little English and was affectionately regarded in the building. "He spent quite a bit of time visiting his mother, both visiting and overnight," Gerson said. "He was a frequent, regular visitor, until he went out of town, so to speak."

Neighbors reportedly knew the building was sometimes under surveillance by federal agents and that Gigante brought associates there for meetings. The apartment is now home to a surviving brother, Reverend Louis Gigante, a retired priest, former Bronx councilmember and director of a Bronx nonprofit housing organization.

An older brother, Mario, 80, reputed to be an elder in the Genovese crime family, also survives. Vincent Gigante leaves five children that he had with his wife, Olympia, and three more children he had with another woman, Olympia Esposito.

Thanks to Albert Amateau

Joseph "Joey The Clown" Lombardo

Joseph "Joey The Clown" Lombardo is an American mafioso and high ranking member of the Chicago Outfit.

Born in 1929 Lombardo joined the Chicago Outfit in the 1950s. In 1963 Lombardo was arrested and charged with kidnapping however he was later acquitted. Lombardo was again on trial in 1974 with Allen Dorfman, an insurance agent, and charged with embezzling of $1.4 million from pension funds of the Teamsters Union. The charges were later dropped after the main witness, Daniel Siefert, was killed two days before his scheduled appearance.

In 1982 Lombardo and Dorfman were again charged with extortion of $800,000 from construction owner Robert Kendler as well as, with Teamsters President Roy L. Williams, attempted bribery of Nevada Senator Howard W. Cannon.

Lombardo was later implicated, by government informant Alva Johnson Rodgers, in the deaths of Daniel Siefert and Robert Harder in 1974, Sam Annerino and Raymond Ryan in 1977, and Allen Dorfman in 1983. Lombardo was also accused of personally murdering ex-police officer Richard Cain. Interestingly, Cain was believed to be a CIA agent as well.

Lombardo and Williams were finally convicted of attempted bribery in August 1985 and sentenced to 15 years imprisonment. Williams, who received 10 years imprisonment, later agreed to testify against Lombardo and several top members of the Chicago Outfit later charged with concealing Mafiosi ownership of the Las Vegas Stardust Resort & Casino of which over $2 million unreported income was skimmed from 1974-1978. By January 1986 five mobsters had been convicted, including Lombardo who was sentenced to an additional 10 years, as well as Chicago syndicate leaders Joey Aiuppa and John Phillip Cerone, sentenced to 28 years imprisonment, and Angelo Lapeer, and Milton Rockman.

When he was paroled from prison in 1992, Lombardo ran an ad in the Chicago Tribue that said:

I am Joe Lombardo, I have been released on parole from federal prison. I never took a secret oath with guns and daggars, pricked my finger, drew blood, or burned paper to join a criminal organization. If anyone hears my name used in conjuction with any criminal activity, please notify the FBI and my parole officer, Ron Kumke

On April 27, 2005 indictments were handed down in which 14 people including Lombardo and Frank "The German" Schweihs were named in the murders of 18 people. Despite being in his late 70s, Lombardo avoided capture. During his time as a fugitive, he wrote two letters to his lawyer, one claiming innocence in the charges brought against him, the other not yet made public. He was finally captured by FBI agents in Elmwood Park, Illinois on January 13, 2006.

Chicago Syndicate Articles with Joey "The Clown" Lombardo

Joey The Clown Lombardo Caught
Joey The Clown Caught!!
Angry Son Knows Mob's True Colors
Fed, Family Come Out to See The German
Initial Court Appearance for The German
Court Appearance for The German
Chicago Mob, Vegas, Celebrities, Is There a Movie here?
End of the Run for Fugitive Mobster
Mob Fugitive Arrested in Kentucky
Come Out Joey Wherever You Are
Stephens: I Didn't Meet with Mob
From Al Capone to a Mayor Richard Daley Special
Inmate Says He Has Information on Mob Crimes
Loan Sharks Tale in Federal Court Has Literay Ring
Judge to Lombardo: No Deal
Casino Hearing Expected to Call Reputed Mobster