Gangsters And Flappers
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By J. C. Martin
It was early October when I received a call from my editor at the Herald Tribune telling me that his newspaper’s chief crime reporter, John B. Davis, wanted to know if I’d be interested in writing about the Mob, and what it meant for Chicago.
He also said that he knew an excellent source of information, Frank Gallegos. “Frank is probably the best-known man-on-the-street journalist in Chicago,” he said, “and we think you’ll enjoy talking to him.”
I agreed right away, not knowing that Frank was going to change my life for good and leave me wondering how long I would last in journalism if it hadn’t been for this strange man with his strange name. It didn’t take more than five minutes into the conversation before Frank told me about the night he went undercover as a gangster at the infamous Stork Club in New York City.
He’d done everything from wearing a false mustache and hair to buying fake identification cards on the street; he even hired himself a phony butler for twenty bucks who stood next to him while he waited for the elevator, and gave him the impression that he was one of the big shots.
“If anybody tried to talk to me or say anything, he would come right out, shake hands with them, and say ‘Mr. Frank Gallegos, please go down to the dining room for some food’—all without missing a beat.
I could hear everything through the walls and even the elevator doors opened up exactly when they were supposed to; I got inside just in time because it only stopped on every other floor and it took forever.”
Frank said that he knew all the players of the night. One was a young, cocky Italian named Carmine, and two of his associates were a couple of toughs known as the Twins.
“The Twins looked like bums but they could move when they had to, and I knew that one day they would have a part in my book.”
Frank was there that night too, disguised in a black leather coat, silk scarf, and fedora hat, waiting patiently for the moment when Carmine called the place “The Stork.”
It was the most dangerous, the most exciting night of his life, according to Frank. “I wanted to tell him about my book and my career and what it meant for me; but when the first words out of his mouth were ‘You’ll never get out of this place,’ I lost my nerve, and I couldn’t say anything. He didn’t mean to be so cruel but it hurt me deep inside.
The only thing I could do was smile and thank him for the fine evening he had given me and the wonderful food.”
As Frank was leaving, Carmine said, “One of these days I’ll find you again; and when I do, I’m going to have you killed. You know that, don’t you?”
Frank said that the next day, as he was walking through the lobby of the Stork Club, a big-time gangster with a gold watch in one pocket, a large wallet in the other, and a cigar in his teeth, walked straight up to Frank and slapped him on the back.
“That’s Carmine,” said Frank, smiling.
Carmine took over half of New York City in the early twentieth century when Prohibition had gone into effect, and organized crime rose to prominence in the city. It was a wild and violent era where gangsters ran roughshod over everyone in sight.
They were all-powerful, dangerous, and ruthless as they battled it out to see who was the toughest. The police force did nothing but watch from the sidelines as they shot, stabbed, tortured, and even murdered each other.
And when things got too hot for them in the city, they would retreat to their own private, secluded territory, like the Jersey shore where they’d throw wild parties with beautiful girls in skimpy bathing suits and young boys playing in the ocean waves, while making money hand over fist with illegal booze from the nearby island.
There was also the old Al Capone family from Chicago, which made its home there; it was an Italian name with Spanish roots and the family was originally from Spain. The Capones had a small farm and owned several hundred acres of prime farmland but it wasn’t long before they began dealing liquor during the Great Depression in order to make ends meet.
As they continued to do so, they quickly rose up in the ranks of the underworld and soon found themselves running everything from gambling halls to speakeasies. Their power grew and they made their way to Florida because the climate was better and they could use their business acumen to their advantage.
The state of Florida is known today as one of the top five destinations for organized crime worldwide.
In Chicago, the Mob ruled everything from the horse racing industry to the numbers racket, and from bootleg whiskey to prostitution, to protection rackets.
There were many famous names in the Chicago Mafia, such as John Torrio who founded the organization in 1919; the legendary Al Capone, whose career spanned almost twenty years before he was finally killed on charges of tax evasion; and Jimmy Sarantakos, who headed a gang of Greek criminals from Hell’s Kitchen.
It was a different time back then; the only way the public knew that something was wrong was when people started disappearing and never reappearing again. People would be snatched off the street without any warning and murdered; sometimes just shot once or twice, but other times they would be tortured first and left to die slowly and horribly.
As the Mafia spread across America, the FBI was formed, and by 1930, it had grown into a well-trained and organized force of highly trained operatives, with hundreds of agents who took an active role in bringing the Mob down.
But even so, many members of the Mafia were either arrested, murdered, or died in prison during their lengthy sentences, and the organization continued to thrive even after all its most famous leaders were sent away for good.
“There are those who say there’s nothing in this world that’s real,” Carmine said, “that we’re all puppets, playing at life.” He paused to reflect. “You know what? I believe it. The whole world is controlled by some puppet master up in heaven—and if you think about it, how much do the people who claim they’re in control really know?”
***
When the Great Depression hit in 1929, the economy crashed, leaving millions of people out of work and homeless. A few people managed to stay above water by working as hard as they could for very little pay. For the rest, it was a constant struggle just to eat, sleep, and have basic hygiene, not to mention having shelter and clean clothes.
They were living day by day with no way of getting ahead except maybe if they got lucky and won the lottery or found a great job somewhere. It was an era that changed a lot of things and it made the Mafia more powerful than ever before because they knew which buttons to push and how to make money from misery and despair.
But there were still plenty of honest and decent citizens who refused to be swayed by the Mafia or by those in power. The FBI was constantly on guard to keep the Mob as far away from politics as possible and they did an excellent job, although some high-level politicians did manage to get involved.
One of them was former President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, who was the leader of the free world at that time, and he was well known for his progressive attitude and his ability to work for the betterment of society.
His wife, Eleanor, also became a symbol of change, and when she died in 1962, it left an enormous void for women in America. The president himself passed away in 1945 at age sixty-three but even so, he was revered as a hero for his accomplishments in bringing the country back from the brink of total destruction.
Another person who took advantage of the chaos of the Great Depression was Joseph Kennedy, the father of U.S. President John F. Kennedy. He began by buying up large quantities of cheap liquor from bootleggers who used it as their main supply. Soon he became one of the most powerful men in the city of Chicago.
“Kennedy was a real genius,” Carmine said. “He knew the best time to do something. And what’s better than being able to take a gamble on gambling? People needed something to lose their money on.”
The mob grew strong in the late 1930s until World War II started. It wasn’t long after that before the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor; the war was raging overseas. The U.S. was now at war, and with thousands of young people off to fight, it left an opening for other criminals, and they jumped at the opportunity to make a profit.
But despite its reputation, the Mafia was not responsible for every act of violence. It was simply a part of the world that it could afford to exploit, but there were also many brave people who stood up against it.
There were the FBI agents, such as J. Edgar Hoover, who made their jobs their life’s passion; those who worked for newspapers who put out investigative exposes exposing crimes and corruption; the crusaders who formed unions; and ordinary people, such as group called the Sons of Italy who refused to be pushed around by a crime boss who wanted to steal their heritage.
When he was twelve years old, Joe Kennedy was taken from his parents and placed in a foster home. His parents didn’t care for him anymore. They said they couldn’t afford to feed another mouth and they had too much debt. They said he was no longer wanted by them but they were still sending money home to cover his living expenses.
He had been in a private school since he was nine but after the government sent word to the school that his father was dead, he was sent back to a public school that wasn’t well funded. He went to school, studied hard, and learned how to work harder—just like Carmine said. And when the opportunity came, he was able to take advantage of it.
“The only people who are going to make it today,” Carmine had once told me, “are those who work hard.”
One day, while walking through an alley behind the factory where he worked, Joe got into a conversation with two guys and he found out one of them owned a restaurant down the street. It was in need of a chef but no one was interested in working for such a small establishment, so Joe asked if he could take over for the next three days.
The man agreed and Joe spent most of the afternoon preparing the food that would be served that evening.
It went smoothly and he did a fine job of serving the customers. He even received praise from his employer, who decided to pay him a wage for the first time in his life. Joe was so pleased, he continued working there as long as the owners allowed him. In fact, he stayed for four years, working his way up from dishwasher to assistant cook to head chef.
After he graduated high school, he moved on to another restaurant to work his way up, but it was still difficult to keep going. With the amount of money he needed to save, it wasn’t always possible to do it in the same type of place. There were times when he took any kind of job—as long as he thought it would pay the bills, that is.
And that was just another reason he felt a kinship with Carmine because he also knew what it was like not being able to provide for his family. He’d seen plenty of people in that position and they were usually the ones who turned to crime, or sometimes they became a burden on their families and left a bad trail for others to follow.
Joe wanted a future for himself. He was determined to find a way to live the life he desired. And he knew there was a lot more than just gambling in the world. He saw it every day and understood that there had to be something bigger than just getting through another day.
It didn’t mean he didn’t understand how much he would miss his son and the rest of his family but he knew there was something beyond where he lived.
He’d learned all those lessons at an early age and by watching people who lived a life he admired. His dad was never around but Joe watched his mom; she worked hard to feed the kids while her husband was out chasing women and spending money. But she was still beautiful enough to get by on her own if necessary. That made her even more admirable to him.
The mobsters he met also made an impact on him, although not always in the most positive sense. The men had big egos and were prone to making decisions on their own without any regard for anyone else’s needs. And they always wanted more power over everyone, from bosses to their friends.
But Carmine wasn’t like them and so he came back into Joe’s life. When Carmine told him that he was moving to Las Vegas, Joe jumped at the opportunity. If it had been anyone else, he would have refused, but with Carmine …
I don’t know if it was the fact that Carmine was the first person to give Joe an opportunity when others had turned him away. Or maybe it was because Carmine had taken him under his wing and given him a purpose. Whatever it was, Joe never thought twice about joining Carmine’s organization. As soon as he did, everything changed.
Carmine introduced him to other men who had a similar philosophy. Joe became part of the organization’s crew but he also worked closely with Carmine, which made his new friends happy. He had a job. And Carmine taught him a whole lot about life too—like the need for family and having a good reason why you’re living.
Carmine told me I needed to find a way to take care of myself before taking care of anybody else, but he could only go so far. He knew it, so he helped me find a man named Nick who could give me some training in the type of thing we all did.
Nick wasn’t like a cop or FBI agent. He wasn’t one of those people who looked for evidence. But he was tough, intelligent, and a killer if necessary. He was exactly what I needed. I didn’t want to kill anybody unless I had no choice—but Nick knew how to make it look like it was my fault.
And the best part? The men who were after us never stood a chance. There was no point in running because our enemies never stood a chance against Nick.
The day he found out that his father had been killed by an enemy gang, Nick was shocked. The news made him feel sad, not only for his father’s death but because of the message it sent. It proved the kind of thing he and Joe both wanted to avoid: violence in a community.
He understood that things happened. People lost jobs and there was never a clear answer as to who was responsible for what. But the fact remained that there were always more problems when someone went too far or took things into their own hands.
“We have to stay out of trouble,” Nick said when they talked about it. “No matter how angry or upset we get, we can’t resort to using violence.”
“But there are times … sometimes you just don’t think straight,” Joe said, trying to convince himself the same thing.
“That’s the time to take care of it and walk away.” Nick was adamant about it. He had a lot of respect for Carmine and the other men he worked with, including Joe.
Joe couldn’t disagree with the words. There were things that happened in this world that he would rather ignore than cause problems over. And while it wasn’t exactly easy, he understood the importance of having the discipline to put them behind you. It made it easier when the police were involved too.
He could be arrested without batting an eyelid if things came down to that, but he preferred being caught doing something illegal and walking away. When a fight started, most of the time people were on a winner from the start. And even if you managed to win, it meant you ended up hurting someone else—usually innocent bystanders.
“It doesn’t work out so well,” Nick said. “You know that.”
He was right, and Joe knew he should keep his mouth shut about the whole thing. It hadn’t been anything to do with him personally, anyway; he didn’t know anyone who was even remotely connected. But he couldn’t help telling Nick anyway, because the man needed to be prepared for whatever might happen.
He didn’t like to see anybody hurting. That was the bottom line. He’d seen enough to last a lifetime, and the worst part was that his friends were just as bad off as he was. They had families they wanted to protect, and he felt terrible that it was he and not them who had the job of keeping things under control.
He understood it wasn’t always easy, especially when things went wrong or the other guy had a lot of money to spend. The police were all over it, but there were times when he and the rest of Carmine’s crew couldn’t get away with what we did. Sometimes, it just wasn’t worth the trouble.
Nick understood and told Joe to think things through before making any rash decisions. I don’t know what Carmine would have thought of it, but Joe was more worried about his family than he was about being on the police’s list.
And now Carmine had disappeared without a trace—without warning, or even saying goodbye.
I never even got to say my goodbyes.
The End