This Day in Mafia History

Hey, listen up, pal! It’s friggin’ mind-blowing, y’know? Practically every freakin’ day of the year is tied to some important “Family” shenanigan. I mean, c’mon, you got your typical hits, your busts, those unfortunate suckers who didn’t fare too well in court, or maybe they just mysteriously vanished into thin air (Hey, Tony, where the hell are ya?). But hey, it ain’t all doom and gloom, capisce? We got some of The Boys tyin’ the knot, and others gettin’ sprung from the joint. And let me tell ya, we got these huge-ass meetups goin’ on right here too. Ya know, life’s a rollercoaster in this business.

So check it out. We got this fancy calendar thingy, right? It’s got all these tiny icons, so even you can understand what the hell’s goin’ down. And it’s packin’ all the juicy details about what went down on those dates. Keep your eyes peeled, and don’t ask too many damn questions.  Got it?  Good.

AUGUST

Let me tell ya a story, see? It’s April 1, 1935, and Dutch Schultz is facin’ a retrial for tax evasion. They moved the gig to Malone, Franklin County. Dutch, bein’ the smooth operator he is, rolls into town early and starts throwin’ cash and favors around like confetti. By August 1, he gets a shocker of an acquittal. And get this, the guy even converts to Catholicism, claimin’ Christ saved his hide from the slammer without makin’ him change his crooked ways. The big shots like Dewey and Mayor La Guardia? They’re fumin’. They vow to toss Dutch in the clink on sight if he dares show his face in Gotham again.

August 3rd, 1942, went down in the books as the night Max Fox, a real heavy hitter, took out Morris “Moey Dimples” Wolinsky and his buddy Robert Greene at a swanky gambling club on Seventh Avenue. The news rags called it a card game gone wrong, but the real story on the streets was that Moey misled his old boss, Louis “Lepke” Buchalter, about a deal to shave down Lepke’s prison time back in ’39. That’s why Wolinsky got his ticket punched.

On August 5, 1953, U.S. Attorney General Herbert Brownell Jr. sends Joe Adonis, aka Joe Doto, packing to Naples, Italy. Turns out, Adonis lied about being born in Passaic, New Jersey. The feds found out he really hailed from Naples and ordered his deportation.

Vito Genovese, that slippery devil, was dodgin’ the Feds for more than ten years after he got slapped with a murder rap for whackin’ Ferdinand Boccia back in ’34. But the heat finally caught up with him in Italy, and they shipped his sorry hide back to the States to face the music. On August 7, 1944, those grand jurors dropped the hammer and indicted ol’ Vito. Ain’t no runnin’ from justice forever, capisce?

Carmine “The Snake” Persico slithered into this world on August 8, 1933, right in the heart of New York City, destined to become a legend in the shadows.

August 9, 1922: So, picture this, ya got Rocco Valenti, all riled up, makin’ a move to whack ol’ Joe “The Boss” Masseria. Big mistake, see? ‘Cause enter Charles “Lucky” Luciano, cool as ice. He ain’t havin’ none of it. Valenti? He didn’t stand a chance. Lucky put him down for good. Game over.

Murder Inc. had a way of making problems disappear, and by problems, I mean potential witnesses. Take August 10, 1939, for example—Yoeli Miller, small-time operator, snuffed out just like that. Fast forward to August 23rd, and Curly Holtz, a seasoned labor racketeer turned heroin buyer for Lepke, met his maker. Word on the street was he’d been skimming off the top, and the syndicate doesn’t take kindly to sticky fingers.

August 10, 1948: Lemme tell ya a tale, straight outta the streets. John DiBiaso, one of Charlie “the Jew” Yanowsky’s top lieutenants, gets plugged right in front of his own crib in Elizabeth, New Jersey. The kicker? This rubout goes down just 25 days after ol’ Charlie bites the dust. Coincidence? Fuggedaboutit!

On a hot August night in ’31, three mobsters—Joseph Barberi, Charles Matura, and Angelo Simonelli—met their end in a brutal triple murder. Fast forward nine years, and stool pigeon Abe Reles points the finger at none other than Albert Anastasia as the mastermind. But without any backup for his claims, the New York law couldn’t touch Anastasia, and the charges never stuck.

August 15, 1952: So get this, Frank Costello, the “Prime Minister of the Underworld,” struts outta the Keavers Committee like he owns the joint. They slapped him with a contempt of court charge, but did that faze Frankie? Nah. He walked outta there with that signature smirk, showing everyone that even the law couldn’t ruffle his feathers. Now that’s a real boss move!

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Born in the gritty streets of New York City on August 15, 1911, the notorious Anthony “Fat Tony” Salerno came into this world, destined to carve out his empire in the shadows of the concrete jungle.

On August 16, 1933, the coppers slapped the cuffs on Albert Anastasia and his Calabrian pal, Joseph Florino. They nabbed ’em for the Brooklyn rub-out of Carmelo Ferraro, who just so happened to be “the most important state witness” in a big Boston Black Hand trial. But guess what? The law couldn’t make it stick. They dropped the case like a hot potato, and Anastasia walked outta there a free man. Ain’t that a kick in th head?

August 16, 1940: The coppers in LA slapped Bugsy Siegel with the murder rap for Big Greenie. Then, just a few days later on August 20th, they went after Louis “Lepke” Buchalter too. The heat was on, and it was a bad week to be in the mob.

August 20, 1961: Picture this, see? Lawrence “Larry” Gallo, brother to the infamous Crazy Joe, was nearly rubbed out at the Sahara Lounge. Couple of goons tried to strangle him, but luck was on Larry’s side that night. A cop strolled in, and those would-be killers scattered like rats. Ain’t that a twist?

August 21, 1938: Ol’ Hyman Yuran, once tight with Louis “Lepke” Buchalter, gets rubbed out by the boys at Murder, Inc. They make sure he ain’t botherin’ no one no more, dumpin’ his sorry carcass in a lime pit near that sleepy little burg, Loch Sheldrake, New York.

On August 24, 1902, in the heart of Italy, the world welcomed Don Carlo Gambino, a future kingpin who’d make the streets of New York bow to his every whim, capisce?

August 24, 1939: Louis “Lepke” Buchalter, the big boss of Murder, Inc., strolls into federal custody like he’s walkin’ into a speakeasy. The feds finally nabbed the most wanted man in the business, but Lepke? He hands himself over with a smirk, like he’s got a secret they ain’t ready for.

August 25, 1955: Picture this, wise guy. Meyer Lansky’s Casino Internacional, the first of Havana’s syndicate casinos, is sold to Moe Dalitz and Sam Tucker. These two mugs run the show until they pass the torch to Mike McLaney, just six months before the Cuban Revolution shakes the whole damn island. Then Castro and his boys come in and snatch it up. Ain’t that a kicker?

August 27, 1944, Officer Orange Dickey of the Criminal Investigation Division collars Vito Genovese in Italy, nabbing him for black market hustles and swiped Army vehicles. See, Genovese was playing nice as an interpreter for the Allied Military Government, pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. But Dickey, he ain’t no sap. He pins Genovese down, keeping him on ice until the bigwigs can ship him back to the States to face murder charges. This was just the start of a nasty political brawl for Dickey, with the military brass dragging their heels, not wanting to touch this hot potato. It took months of wrangling to get that wiseguy deported.

August 30, 1940: On this day, a couple of rats—Abe “Kid Twist” Reles and Allie “Tick Tock” Tannenbaum—sang like canaries to the grand jury. They spilled the beans on Mo Greenberg’s rubout, filling in all the juicy details.

August 31, 1939—Brooklyn was buzzin’ when the cops pinched Emmanuel “Mendy” Weiss, one of Murder, Inc.’s finest. But get this, it wasn’t for bumping off any poor schmuck; they nailed him for smuggling dope. Yeah, you heard right. Come September 15, the feds slapped him with an indictment, but Mendy, he had the scratch to post bail and stroll right outta there, cool as a cucumber. Meanwhile, our pal Albert Anastasia? The guy was left holdin’ the bag, solo on the murder rap.