From a promo for the new NBC Show called The Black Donnelly's. They are already being called the "Hunky" Mobsters".
Meet the Donnelly Brothers: Tommy, Jimmy, Kevin and Sean. There is nothing that these four Irish brothers wouldn't do to protect each other, and for them that means lying, cheating, stealing, and, occasionally, calling the cops. Narrated by wannabe gangster Joey "Ice Cream", this gritty series bears witness to the Donnelly brothers sudden involvement in organized crime, focusing on how they go from boys to mobsters, and showing how their new life affects their relationships with family, friends, and lovers.
Academy Award winners Paul Haggis and Bobby Moresco ("Crash ") are the creators of this gritty new crime drama series loosely based Moresco's background. The ensemble cast includes Jonathan Tucker ("Texas Chainsaw Massacre"), Billy Lush ("Huff"), Thomas Guiry ("Mystic River"), Michael Stahl-David ("Uncle Nino"), Keith Nobbs ("25th Hour"), Olivia Wilde ("The O.C."), Kirk Acevedo ("Oz").
Get the latest breaking current news and explore our Historic Archive of articles focusing on The Mafia, Organized Crime, The Mob and Mobsters, Gangs and Gangsters, Political Corruption, True Crime, and the Legal System at TheChicagoSyndicate.com
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Reputed Chicago Mob Boss 'Joey the Clown' Could Face Fresh Charges
Friends of ours: Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, Tony "The Ant" Spilotro, Frank "the German" Schweihs
Reputed mob boss Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo and another man could face new charges for going on the lam after a major indictment against them was unsealed, a federal prosecutor said Tuesday.
"We may seek to add charges to the indictment based on their fugitive status," Assistant U.S. Attorney Mitchell A. Mars told federal Judge James B. Zagel at a hearing in a racketeering case known as Operation Family Secrets.
Fourteen alleged mobsters and mob associates were charged in the indictment alleging that leaders of the Chicago Outfit were involved in 18 murders, including that of Tony "The Ant" Spilotro, the mob's onetime top man in Las Vegas who was killed and buried in an Indiana corn field.
Joe Pesci played a character based on Tony Spilotro in the 1995 Martin Scorsese film "Casino."
Lombardo, 77, was captured by FBI agents in a suburban Elmwood Park alley in January 2006 after nine months on the run.
The other runaway defendant, alleged mob enforcer Frank "The German" Schweihs, 76, was captured by FBI agents in December 2005, hiding in the hills of Kentucky south of Lexington.
Lombardo attorney Rick Halprin said that an unlawful flight to escape prosecution charge would add little to the case compared to the racketeering count his client is charged with. "Given the breadth and scope of the case, I don't believe I'm going to lose any sleep over it," he said. Schweihs attorney Ellen R. Domph had no comment.
Zagel told attorneys Tuesday that he likely would order a hearing to determine exactly what jurors might hear from prospective government witness James Wagner, a former FBI mob investigator who now is president of the Chicago Crime Commission.
Prosecutors want Wagner to tell the jury the story of the Chicago Outfit based on his decades of experience investigating the mob.
Halprin has asked Zagel to limit what Wagner would be allowed to say. Zagel told Mars to provide the court with a written explanation of what the former agent would tell the jury.
Thanks to Mike Robinson
Reputed mob boss Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo and another man could face new charges for going on the lam after a major indictment against them was unsealed, a federal prosecutor said Tuesday.
"We may seek to add charges to the indictment based on their fugitive status," Assistant U.S. Attorney Mitchell A. Mars told federal Judge James B. Zagel at a hearing in a racketeering case known as Operation Family Secrets.
Fourteen alleged mobsters and mob associates were charged in the indictment alleging that leaders of the Chicago Outfit were involved in 18 murders, including that of Tony "The Ant" Spilotro, the mob's onetime top man in Las Vegas who was killed and buried in an Indiana corn field.
Joe Pesci played a character based on Tony Spilotro in the 1995 Martin Scorsese film "Casino."
Lombardo, 77, was captured by FBI agents in a suburban Elmwood Park alley in January 2006 after nine months on the run.
The other runaway defendant, alleged mob enforcer Frank "The German" Schweihs, 76, was captured by FBI agents in December 2005, hiding in the hills of Kentucky south of Lexington.
Lombardo attorney Rick Halprin said that an unlawful flight to escape prosecution charge would add little to the case compared to the racketeering count his client is charged with. "Given the breadth and scope of the case, I don't believe I'm going to lose any sleep over it," he said. Schweihs attorney Ellen R. Domph had no comment.
Zagel told attorneys Tuesday that he likely would order a hearing to determine exactly what jurors might hear from prospective government witness James Wagner, a former FBI mob investigator who now is president of the Chicago Crime Commission.
Prosecutors want Wagner to tell the jury the story of the Chicago Outfit based on his decades of experience investigating the mob.
Halprin has asked Zagel to limit what Wagner would be allowed to say. Zagel told Mars to provide the court with a written explanation of what the former agent would tell the jury.
Thanks to Mike Robinson
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
The Departed is Released
'The Departed' is set in South Boston, where the state police force is waging war on organized crime. Young undercover cop Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) is assigned to infiltrate the mob syndicate run by gangland chief Costello (Jack Nicholson).
While Billy is quickly gaining Costello's confidence, Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon), a hardened young criminal who has infiltrated the police department as an informer for the syndicate, is rising to a position of power in the Special Investigation Unit.
Each man becomes deeply consumed by his double life, gathering information about the plans and counter-plans of the operations he has penetrated. But when it becomes clear to both the gangsters and the police that there's a mole in their midst, Billy and Colin are suddenly in danger of being caught and exposed to the enemy -- and each must race to uncover the identity of the other man in time to save himself.
While Billy is quickly gaining Costello's confidence, Colin Sullivan (Matt Damon), a hardened young criminal who has infiltrated the police department as an informer for the syndicate, is rising to a position of power in the Special Investigation Unit.
Each man becomes deeply consumed by his double life, gathering information about the plans and counter-plans of the operations he has penetrated. But when it becomes clear to both the gangsters and the police that there's a mole in their midst, Billy and Colin are suddenly in danger of being caught and exposed to the enemy -- and each must race to uncover the identity of the other man in time to save himself.
Monday, February 12, 2007
The Unfinished Business of Donnie Brasco
The only real mobster I ever met was a funny little guy named Fred. He was short, stooped and rumpled, with basset-hound eyes and pallid skin. A wise-cracking, kewpie-doll of a guy with a cigarette hanging out of the side of his mouth. Maybe you remember him. Fred Roti, former alderman of the old mobbed-up First Ward. The representative, as Harper's Magazine once described him, of the "Italian business interests" in City Hall.
Freddy liked to hang out at the City Hall press room and share coffee and jokes with the beat reporters. In fact, he was the Art Linkletter of the city council. Freddy thought reporters, just like kids, say the darnedest things!
I happened to be there on the day he asked his legendary question: "So, boys, what should my campaign slogan be this year?"
"Vote for Roti," Bob Davis said without skipping a beat, "and nobody gets hurt!"
Furtive glances. A pause. A long pause. It seemed to get awfully hot all of a sudden, too. And then that old Linkletter look spread slowly across Roti's gnarled face. "You're baaaad," he chortled to relieved laughter all around.
If we're lucky, that's as close as most of us will ever get to an honest-to-goodness wiseguy. But Joe Pistone, a k a Donnie Brasco, has lived in the belly of the beast.
Pistone is the former FBI agent who went undercover as a Mafia soldier for six years and helped cripple the Five Families of New York. He told his story in a best-selling book that later became a movie starring Al Pacino and Johnny Depp.
Now, Pistone is back with a sequel. Donnie Brasco: Unfinished Business promises to reveal the tales that he couldn't disclose earlier. Unfortunately, it seems more like a ploy to cash in one more time on the Donnie Brasco brand. The book has all the drama of a night out with the boys, reliving the glory days. And it reads with all the charm of a 300-page federal indictment.
And that's a shame, since if you can endure the self-congratulation, insufferable stories about being on the set with Al and Johnny, and a Jack Webb -- just the facts, ma'am! -- style of storytelling, there are some fascinating insights here into what mobsters are really like, and what it takes to bring them down.
The best stories illuminate the moral ambiguity inherent in the double life of an undercover agent. In the name of the law, he has to be ready to break the law. To catch a criminal, he has to risk becoming one.
For the first time, Pistone admits to crimes that would have ended the Donnie Brasco operation if his superiors in the FBI had known about them -- hijackings, burglaries, armed robberies and beatings. "I had to gain the trust of criminals and gangsters," he says, "and there is only one way to do that. You got to do what you got to do."
Pistone tells a chilling story about a capo -- his boss -- ordering him to kill a mob enemy. It's a wiseguy's ultimate test. "The people I had been assigned to infiltrate engaged in murder the way a cabbie goes through a yellow light," Pistone writes. "I had long ago made my decision of what to do when this predictable occasion arose. If Bruno's there, he's gone. If I have to put a bullet in his head, I will."
There is a nagging conflict between what Pistone thinks he can achieve and what his FBI superiors think is reasonable -- and safe.
After blowing one assignment for his mob bosses, Pistone is called to a summit to face the music. He knows the FBI would rather pull the plug on the operation than risk his life. Pistone also knows the basic rule of mob life is "not to rat, and not to run." So he goes, without telling the FBI. "I was finally in so deep I was lying to the FBI by omission," he says. "Because of my job I lied regularly in my personal life to those I was closest to. I was finally in the mud at the deep end."
One reads on in anticipation and, finally, irritation, waiting in vain for more stories packing this kind of tension. The closest he comes is a brief description of how Donnie Brasco was ordered to abort his undercover pose just as he was on the verge of becoming a "made member" of the Bonnano crime family, a decision he describes as having "the keys to the vault and suddenly throwing them away." But there's no elaboration, no sense of what the debate was like, and what was really lost.
Instead, an interminable, mind-numbing timeline of recent mob cases descends into a tirade on a trial in which Pistone claims everyone involved -- wiseguys, investigators and prosecutors -- are angling ineptly for book deals. The Gang That Couldn't Shoot Straight winds up as The Gang That Couldn't Write Straight.
Thanks to Joe Kolina, a Chicago journalist with a long-standing interest in what Bonnano family soldier Lefty Ruggiero described as "the underworld field."
Freddy liked to hang out at the City Hall press room and share coffee and jokes with the beat reporters. In fact, he was the Art Linkletter of the city council. Freddy thought reporters, just like kids, say the darnedest things!
I happened to be there on the day he asked his legendary question: "So, boys, what should my campaign slogan be this year?"
"Vote for Roti," Bob Davis said without skipping a beat, "and nobody gets hurt!"
Furtive glances. A pause. A long pause. It seemed to get awfully hot all of a sudden, too. And then that old Linkletter look spread slowly across Roti's gnarled face. "You're baaaad," he chortled to relieved laughter all around.
If we're lucky, that's as close as most of us will ever get to an honest-to-goodness wiseguy. But Joe Pistone, a k a Donnie Brasco, has lived in the belly of the beast.
Pistone is the former FBI agent who went undercover as a Mafia soldier for six years and helped cripple the Five Families of New York. He told his story in a best-selling book that later became a movie starring Al Pacino and Johnny Depp.
Now, Pistone is back with a sequel. Donnie Brasco: Unfinished Business promises to reveal the tales that he couldn't disclose earlier. Unfortunately, it seems more like a ploy to cash in one more time on the Donnie Brasco brand. The book has all the drama of a night out with the boys, reliving the glory days. And it reads with all the charm of a 300-page federal indictment.
And that's a shame, since if you can endure the self-congratulation, insufferable stories about being on the set with Al and Johnny, and a Jack Webb -- just the facts, ma'am! -- style of storytelling, there are some fascinating insights here into what mobsters are really like, and what it takes to bring them down.
The best stories illuminate the moral ambiguity inherent in the double life of an undercover agent. In the name of the law, he has to be ready to break the law. To catch a criminal, he has to risk becoming one.
For the first time, Pistone admits to crimes that would have ended the Donnie Brasco operation if his superiors in the FBI had known about them -- hijackings, burglaries, armed robberies and beatings. "I had to gain the trust of criminals and gangsters," he says, "and there is only one way to do that. You got to do what you got to do."
Pistone tells a chilling story about a capo -- his boss -- ordering him to kill a mob enemy. It's a wiseguy's ultimate test. "The people I had been assigned to infiltrate engaged in murder the way a cabbie goes through a yellow light," Pistone writes. "I had long ago made my decision of what to do when this predictable occasion arose. If Bruno's there, he's gone. If I have to put a bullet in his head, I will."
There is a nagging conflict between what Pistone thinks he can achieve and what his FBI superiors think is reasonable -- and safe.
After blowing one assignment for his mob bosses, Pistone is called to a summit to face the music. He knows the FBI would rather pull the plug on the operation than risk his life. Pistone also knows the basic rule of mob life is "not to rat, and not to run." So he goes, without telling the FBI. "I was finally in so deep I was lying to the FBI by omission," he says. "Because of my job I lied regularly in my personal life to those I was closest to. I was finally in the mud at the deep end."
One reads on in anticipation and, finally, irritation, waiting in vain for more stories packing this kind of tension. The closest he comes is a brief description of how Donnie Brasco was ordered to abort his undercover pose just as he was on the verge of becoming a "made member" of the Bonnano crime family, a decision he describes as having "the keys to the vault and suddenly throwing them away." But there's no elaboration, no sense of what the debate was like, and what was really lost.
Instead, an interminable, mind-numbing timeline of recent mob cases descends into a tirade on a trial in which Pistone claims everyone involved -- wiseguys, investigators and prosecutors -- are angling ineptly for book deals. The Gang That Couldn't Shoot Straight winds up as The Gang That Couldn't Write Straight.
Thanks to Joe Kolina, a Chicago journalist with a long-standing interest in what Bonnano family soldier Lefty Ruggiero described as "the underworld field."
Capone, Mobsters, Relaxed in Pingree Grove
What would the world’s most famous mobster want with little Pingree Grove?
Well, there were no police, few people were around and everyone in town minded their own business, locals say, making the little village an ideal place for Al Capone to relax.
Resident Alice Thurnau, 86, says Al Capone was even rumored to have owned a house in Pingree Grove. That house no longer stands.
Alice’s husband, Kenneth, 92, also known as “Shorty,” is the oldest resident in town to have been born and raised in Pingree Grove.
He says that when he was 12, he once had a personal encounter with the mobster. One day in 1927, Capone brought his car to the Thurnau Garage, opened by his father, Jack, a one-time mayor of Pingree Grove. Capone had a flat tire and asked Shorty if he’d change it. And after he did, Capone rewarded him with a tip. “It was pretty big,” Shorty said.
But Capone isn’t the only mobster thought to have cooled his heels in Pingree Grove.
Various residents say Sam “Teets” Battaglia, a member of the Chicago Outfit and close associate of Sam Giancana, who died in prison in 1973, maintained a house and farm on Damisch Road. But in Pingree Grove, Battaglia was known for furnishing all of the children with free pop, Alice Thurnau said.
“He wanted to make a good name for himself,” she said.
Thanks to Lenore T. Adkins
Well, there were no police, few people were around and everyone in town minded their own business, locals say, making the little village an ideal place for Al Capone to relax.
Resident Alice Thurnau, 86, says Al Capone was even rumored to have owned a house in Pingree Grove. That house no longer stands.
Alice’s husband, Kenneth, 92, also known as “Shorty,” is the oldest resident in town to have been born and raised in Pingree Grove.
He says that when he was 12, he once had a personal encounter with the mobster. One day in 1927, Capone brought his car to the Thurnau Garage, opened by his father, Jack, a one-time mayor of Pingree Grove. Capone had a flat tire and asked Shorty if he’d change it. And after he did, Capone rewarded him with a tip. “It was pretty big,” Shorty said.
But Capone isn’t the only mobster thought to have cooled his heels in Pingree Grove.
Various residents say Sam “Teets” Battaglia, a member of the Chicago Outfit and close associate of Sam Giancana, who died in prison in 1973, maintained a house and farm on Damisch Road. But in Pingree Grove, Battaglia was known for furnishing all of the children with free pop, Alice Thurnau said.
“He wanted to make a good name for himself,” she said.
Thanks to Lenore T. Adkins
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