Friends of ours: Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo
It's been nearly two years ago since we first wrote in this column about a book that was to be published about Ray Ryan, one of the biggest names connected with Watertown's rich history.
It was back in May of 2005 that Herb Marynell, a freelance writer and photographer from Newburgh, Ind., stopped by our office at the Daily Times to discuss Ryan as part of his information gathering process which is to lead up to a biography of Ryan.
Herb has been fascinated with Ryan for many years and has collected a vast amount of information about his life. Herb's fascination with this “larger than life” personality came about while he was a reporter for the Evansville Courier & Press in Evansville, Ind. It was back in October of 1977 when Ryan was killed when a bomb went off in his car in Evansville. The explosion and Ryan's death were widely speculated to have been the work of the mob, which had been intertwined in Ryan's life for a long time. (Joey the Clown Lombardo has been widely regarded as the top suspect by law enforcement authorities.)
Herb's visit to Watertown included a number of stops and interviews with people, and he said he learned a great deal.
Back when he visited two years ago, Herb had hopes the book would be in print by this time, but that hasn't been the case. A number of our readers have been asking us about the book and when it might be available, and as a result, we visited with Herb recently, and he said he continues to gather information on Ryan and that he has a fair amount of work to do before the book is published.
At the present time he has over 100,000 words in the initial draft of the book, and plans to add thousands more before it's ready for editing and final proofing. His estimate is that the book could still be a year away from publication.
Herb told us in recent days, “Last fall I visited Hot Springs, Ark., and two important oil towns of Tyler and Snyder, Texas, to get the feel of those places. Just before the end of the year we visited Las Vegas and Palm Springs, Calif. to learn more. I didn't think much of Las Vegas but Palm Springs is a wonderful place. If only we had the money to live there permanently - I can see why Ray Ryan loved that place.”
Herb told us one of the best parts of those trips was meeting the old-timers, the folks in their 80s and 90s with great stories about life in those communities back in the 1950s and 1960s when Ryan was around.
He said, “Through the folks I ran into in Las Vegas I got to meet Tony Montana, a Chicago guy who grew up in The Patch and knew the important guys in the Chicago Mob in the 1940s and 1950s. Tony is a hoot! He lives in Vegas and will be working in Chicago this year doing a movie about the 42 Gang from which several of The Outfit's later top mob guys started their ‘careers.'”
Herb said he's still looking for more information on when Ryan testified in 1964 against two mob guys who tried to extort money from him. That chapter will likely lead Herb to Washington, D.C., where he wants to take a peak at some U.S. Tax Court documents from when the Feds went after Ryan in the late 1960s.
Herb also appealed to me to see if anyone in Watertown could help fill in a few more blanks about his years in this community. Questions Herb raised included:
Did Ryan attend college in the area after high school and did he graduate from Watertown High School? (The indications are he did not.)
Did he play sports in high school or college?
Was he a “ladies man” as a youth?
When did he become interested in horseback riding?
He was also interested in the time when Joe Davies came to Watertown to announce his plans to form the scholarship foundation that has been so big here in Watertown. Herb believes Ryan was one of the speakers when the announcement was made and we're checking into that for him.
Herb said he still doesn't have a publisher for the book but because it's not quite ready for publication, he has not been looking for one. He said Tony Montana is affiliated with a publishing company and would help to make it happen if that becomes necessary.
Herb also said he would be e-mailing to us some sections of the book that pertain to Watertown to check on accuracy and to see if there is anything more local residents can add to the story.
He's excited about the book, and we told him there will probably be some good sales of it right here in Watertown. Old-timers remember Ryan well. He was a pretty “flashy” person and he was always dealing with huge projects, and that often kept him in the news, not only in Watertown but throughout the country. As a result, there is a lot of interest in this Watertown man who made it big and made news even in the way he died - probably at the hands of some disgruntled mob boss. But, we'll never know that for sure.
If any of our readers have more information they can share on the life of Ray Ryan, and especially his years in Watertown and his return visits here, drop a note to us here at the Daily Times. We'll be sure to pass everything along to Herb as soon as we receive it.
So, we hope this update helps our readers to know just where Herb is with publishing the biography of Ray Ryan. From what Herb told us in our recent conversation, we shouldn't get overly anxious about the book any time soon. It will likely be at least a year before it makes it in print and it's actually available for purchase. We'll keep you posted if there are any other new developments on the quest to get this book published.
Thanks to WDT
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Friday, April 06, 2007
The Sopranos Day of Reckoning
Friends of mine: Soprano Crime Family
As "The Sopranos" enters its final chapter, Tony reluctantly faces his past -- and we reluctantly face the end of this brilliant series.
SPOILER ALERT! Includes spoilers from the first two episodes of the final season of "The Sopranos." Don't read this if you don't want to know what happens in these episodes.
"All those memories are for what? All I am to him is some asshole bully." -- Tony Soprano
As the curtain rises on the final season of HBO's "The Sopranos," Tony is considering his legacy more than ever before, even more than he did after his brush with death. He's wondering not just how he's seen by Christopher, who portrays him as an aggressive thug in his new mob-horror movie, but how his other associates and his wife and kids see him. How will he be remembered? What will he leave behind? With all of the unrealistic expectations we each have of our lives, the big goals we want to accomplish, the hopes we have for those we love, how can we not be a little disappointed in the end?
The same questions apply as we near the end of this epic mob drama, a TV series that redefined our understanding of the Italian mob and explored the fragile nature of family -- the kind we have with blood relatives, and the business relationships that are sometimes just as intimate and as complicated. Expectations were enormous at the start of the first half of this final season. A two-year hiatus didn't help, of course, nor did the fact that television dramas in general were improving, following in the path cleared by "The Sopranos" itself, which brought a smart, imaginative, dark sensibility to the small screen and broadened people's perspectives on what a drama could be. The show set the bar so high that the low stakes of Vito's disappearance and Christopher's falling on and off the wagon felt downright anticlimactic after such a long wait.
What could we do? We expected a lot. For eight years now, Tony Soprano has been so much more to us than "some asshole bully." He's been this big, bearish patriarchal figure with a soft, vulnerable center, an angry, violent man who also loves little ducklings and frets over doing right by his men. We've watched Tony growl and sigh and snicker and gorge himself and quarrel and get drunk and tell bad jokes and become depressed. We've watched him lust after women and order hits on old friends. After years of seeing this man glower and chuckle and mope, he's become such an archetype, such a larger-than-life fixture, that it's hard to imagine him suddenly disappearing. More than anything else, Tony has captured our sympathies over the years. He may hang out with self-serving thugs and aggressive, one-trick ponies, his wife may be self-righteous and hypocritical, his son may be a shortsighted, shallow dummy, his daughter may be wishy-washy and overly dependent, but Tony, even at his most merciless, dodges our harshest judgments. We forgive him for his countless crimes and mistakes, for his recklessness and his rage. The man is full of sadness and longing and we can't turn away from him, no matter how depraved or unfair he becomes.
As the first of nine final episodes opens, we find that Tony (James Gandolfini) may not be looking back as fondly as we are. Most memories aren't welcome for him. When he and Carmela (Edie Falco) join Bobby (Steven R. Schirripa) and Janice (Aida Turturro) and their daughter Nica at Bobby's lake house to celebrate Tony's 47th birthday, Tony seems relatively calm and happy, but there's a feeling of dread hanging over the man. While the other three adults laugh and bring up old times, Tony glares out onto the lake. He doesn't want to talk about Bobby's father, because it reminds him of his own dad. He doesn't want to talk about the house at the shore that he and Carmela almost bought, because it reminds him that they almost got divorced, or it reminds him of old friends he's dumped into the waves -- the past is so littered with emotional potholes and tragic turns, it's hard to tell which one he's avoiding. He doesn't want Janice to tell crazy anecdotes about his dad "because it makes us look like a fucking dysfunctional family" -- as if anyone is under the illusion that they aren't dysfunctional. And when Janice gives Tony a DVD of home movies of their childhood, he struggles to act grateful, but you can see an uneasy look spread over his face. His childhood is the last thing in the world he wants to think about; it feels dangerous to even consider it, particularly when he's been drinking.
"I'm old, Carm. And my body has suffered a trauma that it will probably never fully recover from," Tony later says to his wife, but it's hard to tell if he's talking about his gunshot wound or the burden of so many gloomy recollections and regrets he carries with him. While it might seem odd that the final episodes would begin with a trip to the lake, for a man who works hard to distract himself from the heaviness of his past and the weight of his mistakes, vacations can be more harrowing than day-to-day life.
Meanwhile, Carmela is up to her usual tricks, battling to keep things on an even keel, busying herself with her real estate work, turning a blind eye to Tony's doubts and dark moods, and putting on a happy face. When Tony indulges in some bad behavior, Carmela is the first to scold him, but she's not about to admit his most troubling flaws to the outside world, least of all to someone as untrustworthy as his sister. "Tony is not a vindictive man," Carmela tells her, willfully ignoring the past 20-odd years with the man. The doubting, wishy-washy Carmela of the first few seasons is gone; buoyed by a streak of warmth and relative peace in her marriage, she's determined to convince herself of her husband's solid character. Even so, we see hints in the second episode that she continues to be plagued by Adriana's death, suggesting that this murder, which Tony and Christopher and the rest of the men have clearly put behind them, could prove devastating to Carmela if she discovers the truth.
For the moment, the family is united in support of their patriarch. Even Meadow (Jamie-Lynn Sigler), the only vaguely ethical family member and the one who's always been skeptical of Tony's behavior, has taken her place at her father's side as one of his fiercest defenders. As it was last season, it's unclear where Meadow is headed or what exactly she wants from her life, but we can see that she's closer to the fold than ever, as is A.J. (Robert Iler), who looms around the Soprano residence with his wife and kid, looking like a teenager playing house. In contrast, Christopher (Michael Imperioli), who's always seemed like more of a son to Tony than A.J., is lost in his Hollywood fantasy, putting the final touches on his movie, which looks just awful enough to become a huge hit. In a few artful scenes, we're shown Tony's ambivalence toward Christopher: He's glad to see the kid doing something with himself, safe from drugs, but there's a tinge of jealousy over the attention Christopher's getting, particularly when it looks like he's leaving Tony and the mob behind.
Like Tony, the heads of the New York family are struggling to make peace with aging, death and what they'll leave behind when they're gone. Johnny Sack (Vince Curatola) has grown sick in prison and seems to be questioning every decision he ever made. "I got here, I quit smoking after 38 years. Exercised. Ate right. And for what?" he asks, but no one can give him an answer. Later, Phil Leotardo (Frank Vincent) stares at old pictures of relatives on the wall and echoes Johnny Sack's sentiments. "I'd like to do it over, boy, let me tell you. I fucking compromised everything. Twenty years inside, and not a fucking peep. And for what?" The repetition of this question "For what?" is clearly intentional, as it connects these aging mob leaders, wrestling with the meaning of their past decisions. The question also serves as an omen of big changes to come: When the patriarchs of a family start questioning the basic fabric that holds the chaotic mess together -- to stay the course, no matter what, and never, ever rat on your brothers -- it seems clear that a catastrophic shift may be in the works.
The future is so uncertain for the New York crime family that Tony actually wants Little Carmine (Ray Abruzzo), a man whose power he's undermined for years, to step up and run things. Little Carmine tells Tony about a dream he had in which his dead father gives him an empty box and says "Fill it." Tony assumes the dream means that Little Carmine should finally take over and become the New York don. But Little Carmine has a different interpretation: "That dream with my father, the empty box? It wasn't about being boss. It was about being happy."
Much as "The Sopranos" explores the absurdities and ugly realities of mob life, the show has focused, above all else, on the struggle for happiness. At the start of this last chapter in the family's history, we can see that, as they age, Tony and his family may seem more at peace than ever, but they also have to work harder than ever to keep a grip on their happiness. And unlike the first half of this final season, in which peripheral stories like Vito's murder distracted from the bigger picture of Tony's ultimate fate, the ominous mood is hard to miss in the show's final run. At every turn, characters refer to the meaning of family and the haunting lure of memories, looking back and laughing at old scars while trying to make fresh wounds disappear overnight. "We're family! Jesus, these things happen!" they tell each other, as if trying to convince themselves. "The whole thing's already forgotten!" But the troubled history of this family seeps into every detail of the landscape, and Tony, for one, can't escape it.
The first two episodes mark a return to "The Sopranos" we fell in love with, every scene rich with humor and sadness, every moment heavy with echoes of the past and omens of things to come. Creator David Chase and the other writers have always done an exceptional job of coloring each scene with the vivid palette of distant memories, and this skill comes into play now more than ever. Even as Tony sits, staring blankly out onto the water at the lake, we hear Nica in the background, singing with her nanny: "Four little ducks went off one day, over the hills and far away..." The doleful memory of those ducks in Tony's pool in the show's first episode sneaks into the edges of our consciousness. We're invested in Tony as a character, for better and for worse.
Viewers have predicted countless twists and tragedies that might await Tony and his clan, and expectations are running impossibly high. Even so, the engrossing details and resonance of these first two of nine final episodes make it clear that, no matter what happens, if the events that unfold have a profound impact on Tony -- and it's hard to see how they won't -- then they'll have a profound impact on us as an audience as well. Like the ducks in his pool, the smallest symbols and relics from Tony's past have the power to move us. His darkest fears and nightmares feel like our own. Recognizing this, Chase signals in these episodes that we'd better hold on tight, because we're in for a breathtaking, bittersweet ride.
Thanks to Heather Havrilesky
As "The Sopranos" enters its final chapter, Tony reluctantly faces his past -- and we reluctantly face the end of this brilliant series.
SPOILER ALERT! Includes spoilers from the first two episodes of the final season of "The Sopranos." Don't read this if you don't want to know what happens in these episodes.
"All those memories are for what? All I am to him is some asshole bully." -- Tony Soprano
As the curtain rises on the final season of HBO's "The Sopranos," Tony is considering his legacy more than ever before, even more than he did after his brush with death. He's wondering not just how he's seen by Christopher, who portrays him as an aggressive thug in his new mob-horror movie, but how his other associates and his wife and kids see him. How will he be remembered? What will he leave behind? With all of the unrealistic expectations we each have of our lives, the big goals we want to accomplish, the hopes we have for those we love, how can we not be a little disappointed in the end?
The same questions apply as we near the end of this epic mob drama, a TV series that redefined our understanding of the Italian mob and explored the fragile nature of family -- the kind we have with blood relatives, and the business relationships that are sometimes just as intimate and as complicated. Expectations were enormous at the start of the first half of this final season. A two-year hiatus didn't help, of course, nor did the fact that television dramas in general were improving, following in the path cleared by "The Sopranos" itself, which brought a smart, imaginative, dark sensibility to the small screen and broadened people's perspectives on what a drama could be. The show set the bar so high that the low stakes of Vito's disappearance and Christopher's falling on and off the wagon felt downright anticlimactic after such a long wait.
What could we do? We expected a lot. For eight years now, Tony Soprano has been so much more to us than "some asshole bully." He's been this big, bearish patriarchal figure with a soft, vulnerable center, an angry, violent man who also loves little ducklings and frets over doing right by his men. We've watched Tony growl and sigh and snicker and gorge himself and quarrel and get drunk and tell bad jokes and become depressed. We've watched him lust after women and order hits on old friends. After years of seeing this man glower and chuckle and mope, he's become such an archetype, such a larger-than-life fixture, that it's hard to imagine him suddenly disappearing. More than anything else, Tony has captured our sympathies over the years. He may hang out with self-serving thugs and aggressive, one-trick ponies, his wife may be self-righteous and hypocritical, his son may be a shortsighted, shallow dummy, his daughter may be wishy-washy and overly dependent, but Tony, even at his most merciless, dodges our harshest judgments. We forgive him for his countless crimes and mistakes, for his recklessness and his rage. The man is full of sadness and longing and we can't turn away from him, no matter how depraved or unfair he becomes.
As the first of nine final episodes opens, we find that Tony (James Gandolfini) may not be looking back as fondly as we are. Most memories aren't welcome for him. When he and Carmela (Edie Falco) join Bobby (Steven R. Schirripa) and Janice (Aida Turturro) and their daughter Nica at Bobby's lake house to celebrate Tony's 47th birthday, Tony seems relatively calm and happy, but there's a feeling of dread hanging over the man. While the other three adults laugh and bring up old times, Tony glares out onto the lake. He doesn't want to talk about Bobby's father, because it reminds him of his own dad. He doesn't want to talk about the house at the shore that he and Carmela almost bought, because it reminds him that they almost got divorced, or it reminds him of old friends he's dumped into the waves -- the past is so littered with emotional potholes and tragic turns, it's hard to tell which one he's avoiding. He doesn't want Janice to tell crazy anecdotes about his dad "because it makes us look like a fucking dysfunctional family" -- as if anyone is under the illusion that they aren't dysfunctional. And when Janice gives Tony a DVD of home movies of their childhood, he struggles to act grateful, but you can see an uneasy look spread over his face. His childhood is the last thing in the world he wants to think about; it feels dangerous to even consider it, particularly when he's been drinking.
"I'm old, Carm. And my body has suffered a trauma that it will probably never fully recover from," Tony later says to his wife, but it's hard to tell if he's talking about his gunshot wound or the burden of so many gloomy recollections and regrets he carries with him. While it might seem odd that the final episodes would begin with a trip to the lake, for a man who works hard to distract himself from the heaviness of his past and the weight of his mistakes, vacations can be more harrowing than day-to-day life.
Meanwhile, Carmela is up to her usual tricks, battling to keep things on an even keel, busying herself with her real estate work, turning a blind eye to Tony's doubts and dark moods, and putting on a happy face. When Tony indulges in some bad behavior, Carmela is the first to scold him, but she's not about to admit his most troubling flaws to the outside world, least of all to someone as untrustworthy as his sister. "Tony is not a vindictive man," Carmela tells her, willfully ignoring the past 20-odd years with the man. The doubting, wishy-washy Carmela of the first few seasons is gone; buoyed by a streak of warmth and relative peace in her marriage, she's determined to convince herself of her husband's solid character. Even so, we see hints in the second episode that she continues to be plagued by Adriana's death, suggesting that this murder, which Tony and Christopher and the rest of the men have clearly put behind them, could prove devastating to Carmela if she discovers the truth.
For the moment, the family is united in support of their patriarch. Even Meadow (Jamie-Lynn Sigler), the only vaguely ethical family member and the one who's always been skeptical of Tony's behavior, has taken her place at her father's side as one of his fiercest defenders. As it was last season, it's unclear where Meadow is headed or what exactly she wants from her life, but we can see that she's closer to the fold than ever, as is A.J. (Robert Iler), who looms around the Soprano residence with his wife and kid, looking like a teenager playing house. In contrast, Christopher (Michael Imperioli), who's always seemed like more of a son to Tony than A.J., is lost in his Hollywood fantasy, putting the final touches on his movie, which looks just awful enough to become a huge hit. In a few artful scenes, we're shown Tony's ambivalence toward Christopher: He's glad to see the kid doing something with himself, safe from drugs, but there's a tinge of jealousy over the attention Christopher's getting, particularly when it looks like he's leaving Tony and the mob behind.
Like Tony, the heads of the New York family are struggling to make peace with aging, death and what they'll leave behind when they're gone. Johnny Sack (Vince Curatola) has grown sick in prison and seems to be questioning every decision he ever made. "I got here, I quit smoking after 38 years. Exercised. Ate right. And for what?" he asks, but no one can give him an answer. Later, Phil Leotardo (Frank Vincent) stares at old pictures of relatives on the wall and echoes Johnny Sack's sentiments. "I'd like to do it over, boy, let me tell you. I fucking compromised everything. Twenty years inside, and not a fucking peep. And for what?" The repetition of this question "For what?" is clearly intentional, as it connects these aging mob leaders, wrestling with the meaning of their past decisions. The question also serves as an omen of big changes to come: When the patriarchs of a family start questioning the basic fabric that holds the chaotic mess together -- to stay the course, no matter what, and never, ever rat on your brothers -- it seems clear that a catastrophic shift may be in the works.
The future is so uncertain for the New York crime family that Tony actually wants Little Carmine (Ray Abruzzo), a man whose power he's undermined for years, to step up and run things. Little Carmine tells Tony about a dream he had in which his dead father gives him an empty box and says "Fill it." Tony assumes the dream means that Little Carmine should finally take over and become the New York don. But Little Carmine has a different interpretation: "That dream with my father, the empty box? It wasn't about being boss. It was about being happy."
Much as "The Sopranos" explores the absurdities and ugly realities of mob life, the show has focused, above all else, on the struggle for happiness. At the start of this last chapter in the family's history, we can see that, as they age, Tony and his family may seem more at peace than ever, but they also have to work harder than ever to keep a grip on their happiness. And unlike the first half of this final season, in which peripheral stories like Vito's murder distracted from the bigger picture of Tony's ultimate fate, the ominous mood is hard to miss in the show's final run. At every turn, characters refer to the meaning of family and the haunting lure of memories, looking back and laughing at old scars while trying to make fresh wounds disappear overnight. "We're family! Jesus, these things happen!" they tell each other, as if trying to convince themselves. "The whole thing's already forgotten!" But the troubled history of this family seeps into every detail of the landscape, and Tony, for one, can't escape it.
The first two episodes mark a return to "The Sopranos" we fell in love with, every scene rich with humor and sadness, every moment heavy with echoes of the past and omens of things to come. Creator David Chase and the other writers have always done an exceptional job of coloring each scene with the vivid palette of distant memories, and this skill comes into play now more than ever. Even as Tony sits, staring blankly out onto the water at the lake, we hear Nica in the background, singing with her nanny: "Four little ducks went off one day, over the hills and far away..." The doleful memory of those ducks in Tony's pool in the show's first episode sneaks into the edges of our consciousness. We're invested in Tony as a character, for better and for worse.
Viewers have predicted countless twists and tragedies that might await Tony and his clan, and expectations are running impossibly high. Even so, the engrossing details and resonance of these first two of nine final episodes make it clear that, no matter what happens, if the events that unfold have a profound impact on Tony -- and it's hard to see how they won't -- then they'll have a profound impact on us as an audience as well. Like the ducks in his pool, the smallest symbols and relics from Tony's past have the power to move us. His darkest fears and nightmares feel like our own. Recognizing this, Chase signals in these episodes that we'd better hold on tight, because we're in for a breathtaking, bittersweet ride.
Thanks to Heather Havrilesky
Thursday, April 05, 2007
The Tangled Web: The Life and Death of Richard Cain - Chicago Cop and Mafia Hitman
Friends of ours: Richard Cain
"Richard Cain was possibly the most corrupt police official in the history of Chicago." - Federal Bureau of Investigation
Here is the dramatic story of Detective Richard Cain's criminal career as revealed by his half-brother. Cain led a double life: one as a well known cop who led raids that landed on the front pages, and the other as a "made man" in one of Chicago's most notorious mafia crime families.
Michael Cain weaves together years of research, interviews, family anecdotes, and rare documents to create a comprehensive biography of this complex, articulate, and self-contradictory criminal genius. In a story that reads like the plot of Martin Scorsese's The Departed, Cain played both ends against the middle to become a household name in Chicagoland and a notorious figure in both the Mob and the world of Chicago law enforcement. Eventually murdered in a cafe by two masked men wielding shotguns, he lived and died in a world of bloodshed and violence. Cain left behind a story so outlandish that he has even been accused of being involved in the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Filled with fascinating and until-now unknown facts, The Tangled Web tells the full story of this one-man crime wave."
"Richard Cain was possibly the most corrupt police official in the history of Chicago." - Federal Bureau of Investigation
Here is the dramatic story of Detective Richard Cain's criminal career as revealed by his half-brother. Cain led a double life: one as a well known cop who led raids that landed on the front pages, and the other as a "made man" in one of Chicago's most notorious mafia crime families.
Michael Cain weaves together years of research, interviews, family anecdotes, and rare documents to create a comprehensive biography of this complex, articulate, and self-contradictory criminal genius. In a story that reads like the plot of Martin Scorsese's The Departed, Cain played both ends against the middle to become a household name in Chicagoland and a notorious figure in both the Mob and the world of Chicago law enforcement. Eventually murdered in a cafe by two masked men wielding shotguns, he lived and died in a world of bloodshed and violence. Cain left behind a story so outlandish that he has even been accused of being involved in the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. Filled with fascinating and until-now unknown facts, The Tangled Web tells the full story of this one-man crime wave."
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Death Penalty Sought for Mob Boss
Friends of ours: Vincent "Vinny Gorgeous" Basciano, Bonanno Crime Family
Federal prosecutors say they will seek the death penalty against a former New York City mob boss accused of ordering a hit on a rival.
The trial of Vincent "Vinny Gorgeous" Basciano will begin in June.
The one time leader of the Bonanno crime family is accused of ordering the murder of a rival gang member in 2004. He's also accused of trying to kill a federal prosecutor.
Basciano's fate will now rest in the hands of a jury. The 47-year-old was found guilty of racketeering, attempted murder and gambling in a separate case last year.
Federal prosecutors say they will seek the death penalty against a former New York City mob boss accused of ordering a hit on a rival.The trial of Vincent "Vinny Gorgeous" Basciano will begin in June.
The one time leader of the Bonanno crime family is accused of ordering the murder of a rival gang member in 2004. He's also accused of trying to kill a federal prosecutor.
Basciano's fate will now rest in the hands of a jury. The 47-year-old was found guilty of racketeering, attempted murder and gambling in a separate case last year.
Genovese Crime Family Members Sentenced to Prison, Supervised Release
Friends of ours: Genovese Crime Family, Mitchell Wiessman, Joseph Dennis Colasacco, Charles Steinberg
A federal judge has sentenced three reputed associates of the Genovese crime family to prison and supervised release, according to court documents.
Mitchell Wiessman, Joseph Dennis Colasacco, and Charles Steinberg were arrested in June 2006 and later pleaded guilty to RICO conspiracy, a charge designed to cut down on organized crime. Prosecutors said the men were involved in the Genovese family's South Florida operations.
Cases against several other men arrested with the three are still pending.
Wiessman, 54, was sentenced to approximately eight years of prison. Colasacco, 55, received approximately six years of prison and Steinberg, 31, was sentenced to more than three years. All three were also sentenced to two years of supervised release after they leave prison. They were sentenced Friday.
As terms of his supervised release, Colasacco must attend anger management courses. Wiessman has to seek help for substance abuse after his release, and Steinberg must undergo treatment for gambling.
Wiessman's attorney, John Contini, said he and his client were upset with the sentence. Describing his client as a "chubby little Jewish boy driving a used Hyundai,'' Contini said Wiessman's only crime was knowing members of the Genovese family.
A federal judge has sentenced three reputed associates of the Genovese crime family to prison and supervised release, according to court documents.
Mitchell Wiessman, Joseph Dennis Colasacco, and Charles Steinberg were arrested in June 2006 and later pleaded guilty to RICO conspiracy, a charge designed to cut down on organized crime. Prosecutors said the men were involved in the Genovese family's South Florida operations.
Cases against several other men arrested with the three are still pending.
Wiessman, 54, was sentenced to approximately eight years of prison. Colasacco, 55, received approximately six years of prison and Steinberg, 31, was sentenced to more than three years. All three were also sentenced to two years of supervised release after they leave prison. They were sentenced Friday.
As terms of his supervised release, Colasacco must attend anger management courses. Wiessman has to seek help for substance abuse after his release, and Steinberg must undergo treatment for gambling.
Wiessman's attorney, John Contini, said he and his client were upset with the sentence. Describing his client as a "chubby little Jewish boy driving a used Hyundai,'' Contini said Wiessman's only crime was knowing members of the Genovese family.
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