Inside the Mind of Mobster Frank Cullotta

Friends of ours: Frank Cullotta, Joe Cullotta, Tony "The Ant" Spilotro, Joey "The Clown" Lombardo
Friends of mine: Jimmy Miraglia, John "Billy" McCarthy

In the high profile mob trial that began Tuesday in Chicago, one witness for the government is expected to be Frank Cullotta. For more than 25 years, Cullotta was part of the Chicago mob.

Unit 5's Carol Marin got a rare glimpse into the mind of a mobster. Her report is presented here verbatim:

The story of Frank Cullotta is a disturbing and twisted tale. The son of a gangster, he became one himself. He befriended many of the Outfit's top leaders. He stole. He beat people. And he killed twice -- all with little thought of the consequences of his actions.

Cullotta: "There were times that I muscled people."

Frank Cullotta loved the life of the mob. He loved the scores.

Marin: "How many burglaries would you estimate?"

Cullotta: "Minimum 300. Robberies, maybe 200."

He loved the thrills.

Marin: "Your two killings, how were they done?"

Cullotta: "One was a car explosion, and the other was a guy getting shot in the head."

Cullotta shot his victim in the side, back and front of the head.

Marin: "So, you shot him three times?"

Cullotta: "About 10 times."

Cullotta: "I come from a good family, loving mother, loving father. But my father was a shady guy."

Joe Cullotta was a thief and wheelman for the mob, who died in a high speed chase with police in hot pursuit.

Frank Cullotta: "I just felt like he was the model I wanted to follow after."

Over the years, Frank Cullotta graduated from small time thug to big time mobster, aided by his friendship with Tony "The Ant" Spilotro.

Cullotta: "We met each other on Grand Avenue in Chicago ... we became friends."

But Cullotta was soon to learn a lesson about friendship and the mob -- a lesson that years later helped him make the biggest decision of his life.

Jimmy Miraglia and John "Billy" McCarthy were members of Cullotta's burglary crew. When they carried out an unauthorized hit, they were tortured. The M&M boys fell victim to mob justice. McCarthy was the first to die.

Cullotta: "They stuck his head in a vice and start turning the vice. They didn't think the eyeball was going to pop out or whatever, and his eyeball popped out. And then he gave up Jimmy's name. Then they just cut his throat."

Cullotta lead McCarthy and then Miraglia to their deaths.

Cullotta: "It bothered me for a long time. But you know, you live in that world and you say, 'You know, if I don't give 'em up ... they are going to whack me."

When we met Cullotta two weeks ago in Las Vegas, we asked how the mob justifies killing another person.

Cullotta: "First of all you are told this guy could hurt you ... he's no good so you kill 'em."

Marin: "What if you know them or their family?"

Cullotta: "You just justify it, you are doing his family a favor by getting rid of this scumbag."

Marin: "Do you think about it? Does it stay with you?"

Cullotta: "You just forget about it."

In 1979, Cullotta moved to Vegas. He and his crew, the Hole in the Wall gang, stole with abandon under the protection of his pal, Tony Spilotro.

Cullotta: "He was a good friend. For many years, he was a good friend."

But in 1982, Cullotta says, he learned Spilotro was plotting to have him killed. He quit the mob and became a government witness against his former friends. Today, it's a pen and not a pistol you will find in Cullotta's hand. In Las Vegas, he was signing autographs in a new book about his life.

Rick Halprin: "It's just a cheap, trashy book full of stories, which he knows are not true."

Rick Halprin is the lawyer for Joey "The Clown" Lombardo. Cullotta says he will testify in the "Family Secrets" trial that Lombardo has long been a leader in the outfit.

Halprin: "Frank Cullotta is a two-bit burglar who has been telling the same story since 1982."

Cullotta: "I'm old now."

A grandfather, today he is cashing in on his notoriety. He's served as a technical advisor to the mob movie "Casino," and hopes the book will spawn a movie deal.

Marin: "But you are a killer, a burglar, a thug -- I mean you robbed big people and little people, didn't you?"

Cullotta: "I was, I was ... I probably couldn't kill a fly now, really. I've changed ... They tried to kill me ... I wasn't going to become part of the list of guys that were all murdered by their friends. I was a little smarter than them."

Thanks to Carol Marin

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Family Secrets Mob Trial Has Bomb Scare

Friends of ours: Frank Calabrese Sr., Ernest Rocco Infelice, Junior Gotti, Anthony Doyle, Nicholas Ferriola, 32, Joseph Venezia, 71, Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, James Marcello, Paul "the Indian" Schiro

A fake explosive device was found outside a suburban home owned by a son of a defendant in the Family Secrets mob conspiracy trial hours after jury selection began Tuesday, prompting a federal investigation, authorities said.

Investigators said a "hoax device" was left on the back porch of a house in Kenilworth and was discovered about 1 p.m.

A defense lawyer in the case, Joseph Lopez, said the object was found at the home of a son of his client, reputed mob boss Frank Calabrese Sr., on trial for racketeering conspiracy in connection with more than a dozen mob slayings. Public records show the home belongs to one of Calabrese's sons, Kurt, but not the son who is expected to testify when a jury starts hearing evidence in the case. The son who recorded conversations with his father and is expected to take the witness stand is Frank Calabrese Jr.

Investigators said the device was not a working explosive. It was too early to know whether it was a prank or a message, but the authorities are concerned because of its timing as jury selection began in the landmark trial.

Lopez said he was worried that opening statements, which could begin as soon as Thursday, might have to be delayed. "It's shocking, and it shouldn't have happened," Lopez said. "My client loves his children."

Earlier Tuesday, at least eight people had been chosen so far as potential anonymous jurors as the trial began in the much-anticipated mob conspiracy case. U.S. District Judge James Zagel, sorting through a large pool called for jury duty, dismissed some, and lawyers used peremptory challenges to remove others.

Zagel asked potential jurors general questions about their occupations, whether they have any connections to law enforcement and if they think they could be fair. He didn't ask their names, ages or other identifying information—such as where they live.

In a rare move, Zagel decided weeks ago to seat an anonymous jury. Although the jurors will not be shielded visually by a partition, the five men accused of racketeering conspiracy for their alleged roles in controlling the Chicago Outfit will know who is deciding their fates only by court-assigned numbers.

Today, 24 possible jurors were questioned in sessions lasting more than three hours. Several were removed for cause, including a medical physicist who performs cancer treatments and a man who said he has difficulty with English. The process will continue with possible jurors led into the courtroom for questioning in groups of about 25 until 18 are picked. Twelve will be permanent jurors, the rest alternates.

Zagel agreed an anonymous jury was the best course after the prosecution filed a sealed motion citing the safety of jurors for keeping their identities secret, even from defense lawyers in the case, lawyers said.

Experts say seating an anonymous jury is a controversial practice. Judges must weigh juror safety against a defendant's right to an impartial panel. The risk is that the need for their anonymity could leave jurors thinking the defendants must be dangerous. Lawyers in the Family Secrets case said they strongly objected for just that reason.

"Now, of course, the jury can infer that these must be pretty nefarious people," said Ralph Meczyk, the lawyer for Anthony Doyle, a defendant in the case. "That puts in their mind the belief that we're dealing with very, very dangerous defendants."

In seeking to seat anonymous juries, prosecutors typically argue that panel members could be at risk, or at least that the nature of a case could leave jurors apprehensive if the defendants know who they are and where they live.

This is believed to be the first use of an anonymous jury in Chicago's federal court in 15 years, but there is precedent for the move here and across the country, particularly in organized-crime prosecutions.

The last time it was used here was at the trial of mobster Ernest Rocco Infelice, who was convicted in 1992 of racketeering and murder conspiracy.

Recently, an anonymous jury heard a Ku Klux Klan trial in Mississippi, and another decided the fate of reputed mobster John Gotti Jr. last year in New York.

Meanwhile, two more defendants from an original group of 14 pleaded guilty Monday in the Family Secrets case. Nicholas Ferriola, 32, admitted he was part of the criminal conspiracy, while Joseph Venezia, 71, pleaded guilty to being part of an illegal gambling operation. Left to stand trial in the conspiracy that allegedly included 18 slayings are reputed mob bosses Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, James Marcello and Frank Calabrese Sr. as well as Paul "the Indian" Schiro and Doyle, a former Chicago police officer.

The 6th Amendment guarantees all defendants the right to "a speedy and public trial." But as some organized-crime and terrorism defendants have learned, that doesn't necessarily include the right to know who is sitting in judgment on the jury.

Judges can seat anonymous juries for safety reasons and to prevent juror tampering, though the move usually draws cries of unfairness from the defense.

"From the defense side, you worry that the signal it sends is: We've got to be really careful here. These are dangerous individuals," said Andrew Leipold, a law professor at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. "That's not the mind-set you want jurors to start a case with."

But the judge could have taken into account, Leipold said, that Lombardo, for example, is accused of killing a government witness—an allegation that, if true, shows a willingness to use violence to subvert the justice system. He is blamed for the 1974 killing of Bensenville businessman Daniel Seifert, who was scheduled to testify against Lombardo in a Teamsters pension-fraud trial.

For judges, Leipold said, "it's difficult in that so much of this is predictions. What's the likelihood the jury will be tampered with? How likely is it that jury will be biased against the defense?"

Judges also must factor in the right of the public and media to an open proceeding, Leipold said. In the George Ryan corruption trial last year, for example, reporters at the Tribune used publicly available juror information to discover that two jurors had misled the court about their criminal backgrounds. A federal judge dismissed the jurors as a result.

In the Family Secrets case, it's unclear exactly what evidence persuaded Zagel to keep the jury anonymous. Prosecutors made their arguments in a Feb. 16 motion that was filed under seal. But anonymous juries are more common when defendants are allegedly part of a large criminal organization, with members outside the courtroom who have a strong interest in the trial's outcome.

The process to select the Family Secrets jury began earlier this year when prospective jurors in a special pool had their backgrounds checked and were sent questionnaires that asked for in-depth personal information. In addition to personal data, the jurors were asked dozens of questions about their opinions and perceptions of the justice system, the FBI and organized crime.

Jurors were asked what they read and listen to as well as what TV shows they might watch that touch on the mob. One prospective juror listed "The Simpsons," apparently a tongue-in-cheek reference to the character "Fat Tony" and his band of hoodlums from fictional Springfield's underworld.

Also among the questions was whether the prospective juror had ever written to the editor of a newspaper, and on what topic.

Some of the defense attorneys in the case said because of the detailed questionnaire, they may wind up knowing a bit more about each juror than they would have otherwise. Still, it's a handicap not to know such basics as a person's name or where they live.

Marcello's lawyer, Marc Martin, said he, too, objected to the anonymous panel. He noted he has practiced law for 20 years and has never heard of a case of jury tampering in Chicago's federal court.

Openness in government is important, and jury tampering—in real life, as opposed to Hollywood films—is exceedingly rare, agreed Shari Seidman Diamond, law professor at Northwestern University. "I'm not persuaded that [anonymous juries] are required or that they're useful or that they contribute to justice," Diamond said. "We prefer to have the jury be a source of light, not shadow."

But Lombardo's lawyer, Rick Halprin, said he's sure the judge has plenty of reasons to want the jurors' identities withheld in such a high-profile case. "Frankly, I think the gravest danger the judge perceives are crank phone calls and media scrutiny," Halprin said. "He doesn't want the same kind of fiasco they had in the Ryan trial."

Thanks to Jeff Coen and Michael Higgins

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Family Secrets Trial Kicks Off

Friends of ours: Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo, James Marcello, Frank Calabrese Sr., Paul Schiro, Anthony Doyle, Nicholas Calabrese, Tony "the Ant" Spilotro, Michael Marcello, Frank "The German" Schweihs, Joseph Venezia, Nicholas Ferriola,
Friends of mine: William Hanhardt, John Ambrose

It's a homecoming of sorts for reputed mob boss Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo.

Lombardo was convicted in Chicago's skyscraper federal courthouse in 1982 of conspiring with then International Brotherhood of Teamsters President Roy Lee Williams to bribe then Sen. Howard Cannon, D-Nev.

After emerging from a decade in prison, Lombardo took out a newspaper ad declaring he was not a "made guy" and vowing to steer clear of the mob. But the 78-year-old Lombardo was back at the courthouse Tuesday as jury selection was to get under way in a trial experts say will take a bite out of the city's entrenched organized crime family -- The Chicago Outfit.

"This will hurt the mob," says Gus Russo, author of "The Outfit," and other books about organized crime. "But it won't end it."

"They always find a way to redefine themselves and bounce back," says Russo. "It probably won't be as strong in the short run."

Charged with a racketeering conspiracy that included at least 18 murders are Lombardo, James Marcello, 65; Frank Calabrese Sr., 70; Paul Schiro, 69; and Anthony Doyle, 62.

Lombardo, Marcello and Calabrese are alleged to be members of the Outfit's hierarchy and are in federal custody. Schiro was convicted five years ago of taking part in a jewel theft ring run by the Chicago police department's former chief of detectives, William Hanhardt. Doyle is a former Chicago police officer.

All five men have pleaded not guilty.

By midmorning Tuesday, jury selection had not yet started as attorneys consulted with Judge James B. Zagel. Zagel has ordered an anonymous jury with lawyers having only limited information about its members.

Defense attorneys had objected, arguing it could make jurors think the defendants must be dangerous. "Traditionally, the public has a right to know. So in the interest of the public, we believe the public had a right to know who the jurors were," Joseph Lopez, an attorney for Frank Calabrese Sr., said as he entered the federal courthouse Tuesday morning. "It would be nice if they did all juries anonymous, then maybe we wouldn't have this situation," he said.

The star witness is expected to be Calabrese's brother, Nicholas Calabrese, who has pleaded guilty to the charges and is being closely guarded by federal lawmen to prevent mobsters from getting anywhere near him.

Nicholas Calabrese says he has been a "made guy" in the Outfit for decades and knows who is responsible for many of the mob murders.

Among those killed was Tony "The Ant" Spilotro, once the Chicago mob's man in Las Vegas and the inspiration for Joe Pesci's character in the movie "Casino."

Spilotro and his brother Michael were found beaten to death and buried in an Indiana cornfield, victims of an internecine feud inside the mob.

Plainly someone is worried about what Nicholas Calabrese might say.

A federal marshal, John T. Ambrose, is charged with leaking information about Nicholas Calabrese's whereabouts while in Chicago to testify before a federal grand jury. Ambrose has pleaded not guilty.

The number of defendants in the case has dwindled steadily since the first day the indictment was unsealed and one of those charged was found dead of natural causes in his suburban hotel room.

Last week, Marcello's brother, Michael, pleaded guilty along with two other men. And Zagel severed alleged mob extortionist Frank "The German" Schweihs from the trial for health reasons.

On Monday, two other defendants, Joseph Venezia and Nicholas Ferriola, pleaded guilty to gambling and other charges, bringing the number of those due to go on trial to five.

Thanks to Mike Robinson

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Saluting the Best Mafiosa Court Room Antics

Friends of ours: Frank "the German" Schweihs, Sam “Mad Sam” DeStefano, Vincent “The Chin” Gigante, John Gotti, Joey “Doves” Aiuppa, Jackie “The Lackey” Cerone, Tony "the Ant" Spilotro, Joey "The Clown" Lombardo
Friends of mine: Judge Thomas Maloney

“The Sopranos” might have ended, but the first episode of Chicago’s latest mob drama begins Tuesday.

How fitting that the official festivities will take place in the feds’ ceremonial courtroom. The Outfit is big on ceremony, beginning with the oath that “made” guys take. They also take an oath of Omerta, promising never to talk about family secrets to the big bad wolf with the menacing initials: FBI. But how many of us can keep a good secret for life? So, between the gangsters who are desirous of saving their own hides and those who have or will be pleading guilty to high crimes and non-misdemeanors, only five wiseguys are expected to actually be sitting on their ceremonial behinds when jury selection begins Tuesday.

The lawyers for La Cosa Nostra have some serious work ahead of them in the next four or five months. I’m talking about the new, outlandish stunts the hoods will need if they expect to get a mention in the Mob’s Greatest Trial Antics.

It appeared as though Frank “The German” Schweihs might offer the first memorable moment. The German, who was one of the Outfit’s most feared and proficient hitmen, according to federal authorities, is said to be terminally ill.

There was a time when Schweihs would have come to trial with the rest of them, his skin pasty white and IV tubes plugged into his veins, a sad and pathetic character worthy of great sympathy from the jury. But now, Schweihs has been “severed” from the trial, which seems to be an apt legal description for somebody who federal authorities say cut short a few dozen lives himself.

Judge James Zagel didn’t want Schweihs dying one day during the case and creating a mistrial for the others, so he allowed him time to heal … a consideration that Mr. Schweihs himself allegedly would rarely grant those who begged him for mercy.

Schweihs could have followed the script written by Sam “Mad Sam” DeStefano back in the ’60s. The vicious mob enforcer would feign illness so he had to be wheeled into court on a gurney while wearing pajamas. Once, Mad Sam used a bullhorn in the courtroom so he was assured of being louder than prosecutors.

The crafty New York mafia boss Vincent “The Chin” Gigante use to wear his bathrobe to court, mumble to himself and claim God was his lawyer in an effort to persuade jurors that he was deranged. It worked for many years until The Chin was eventually convicted. In 2003, two years before he died in prison, Gigante admitted it had all been an act.

The best courtroom performance by a mob lawyer was in 1986 by Bruce Cutler, who was representing John Gotti at the time. Cutler took the thick federal indictment against Gotti and stuffed it in a courtroom wastebasket. “It’s garbage,” Cutler shouted at prosecutors. “That’s where it belongs.”

Sickness and sympathy has been a favorite play by hoodlums for decades. When Chicago Outfit boss Joey “Doves” Aiuppa was on trial in Kansas City 20 years ago, Aiuppa hunched over a walker coming and going from court. Nevertheless, he managed to get in and out of a taxi and his hotel just fine.

During that same trial, Aiuppa’s vice consigliore Jackie “The Lackey” Cerone delivered a veiled threat to a Chicago news reporter while they were riding on a crowded elevator.

“How’s the wife and that new baby of yours?” Cerone asked the newsman, whose coverage he must have under appreciated. The question stunned the reporter, who certainly never had spoken to Cerone about his wife or his new daughter, Caylen Goudie.

Once, in 1983, I asked the infamous Outfit tough-guy Tony “The Ant” Spilotro a question that now seems prophetic.

“Tony, are you concerned for your personal safety?” I asked The Ant as he bailed out of Cook County jail.

Spilotro just sneered at me … a far different look than he must have displayed three years later when he and his brother were clubbed and buried alive in an Indiana cornfield.

When defrocked Cook County Judge Thomas Maloney was on trial for taking bribes to fix murder cases, the mob-connected Maloney tried his best every day to avoid TV crews staked out in front of the federal building.

Once, Maloney thought he had outsmarted news jockeys by sneaking into the federal building basement and walking up a ramp from the underground parking garage.

Not to be tricked, camera crews were waiting atop the ramp when Maloney strutted up dressed in a black trench coat and fedora. He began running across Adams Street in the Loop, pursued by TV crews until he tripped and did a belly flop onto the asphalt, staggering to his feet with a mouthful of gravel.

The finest out-of-court routine was put on by Joey “The Clown” Lombardo, who will go on trial again Tuesday. Years ago when he was free on bond, The Clown enjoyed living up to his nickname by shielding his face from photographers using a newspaper with cut-out eyeholes.

While he was a fugitive, Lombardo wrote a letter to Judge Zagel, who is hearing his case, stating that he was unfairly targeted by prosecutors who could convict “a hamburger” in federal court.

Thanks to Chuck Goudie

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Catching Up with the Bonanno Mob Family

Gay Talese's efforts to catch up with the children of Bill Bonanno, son of Mafia boss Joseph Bonanno,brought the author to Arizona.

Talese's 1971 book "Honor Thy Father" focused on the Bonanno crime family but his latest essay, now appearing in Newsweek, seeks to find out how the children have dealt with their notoriety. Talese met with the children recently at Bill and his wife, Rosalie's, home in Tucson, according to a release promoting the article. Here's what he found:

* Son Joseph became a doctor, who says he's overcome the Bonnano surname, but hasn't escaped it, having to win acceptance in his profession. He attended the University of Arizona and interned in pediatrics at St. Joseph's Hospital and Medical in Phoenix.

* Charles Bonanno is an interstate truck driver, a job he took after working in an auto-repair shop in Phoenix for 10 years. He told Talese about a trip across the Canadian border when he was questioned about his name. "Are you in any way related to either Joseph Bonanno or Bill Bonanno?" the guard asked. "They're my grandfather and father," Charles answered, and the response was: 'Well, then you're on the nonentry list.'"

* Salvatore Bonanno graduated from the University of Arizona and is a computer-systems executive with his own firm in Phoenix. However, he tells of quitting a previous job for a company installing casino security systems when he was shifted to another assignment because of the family name.

* Felippa Bonanno, who raised 10 children, is expecting another, and operates a day care center, says she has not experienced difficulty with the name.

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