tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55293578223757988692024-02-19T21:31:08.372-05:00Dead Guys In SuitsYour daily dose of old world gangsters who were rubbed out doing what they loved most. Plus some other fun stuff.
Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.comBlogger1170125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-89335641050463252192021-07-08T07:56:00.005-04:002021-07-08T07:57:27.304-04:00Crazy Larry<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhkr3zoHn-g5L-oEfDWqm2U7kJrU7q10cxhpG4UHS7aC-_jdkWC-oXBEcm1iMgdyRxcQ74ZL_xujLkBqp29PSXI7dSlq3YYFK_wbYGsEdaMndOBonSAPsB-jaNwjyOEmyRT-lvSvs4WE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="103" data-original-width="539" height="61" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLhkr3zoHn-g5L-oEfDWqm2U7kJrU7q10cxhpG4UHS7aC-_jdkWC-oXBEcm1iMgdyRxcQ74ZL_xujLkBqp29PSXI7dSlq3YYFK_wbYGsEdaMndOBonSAPsB-jaNwjyOEmyRT-lvSvs4WE/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">July 8, 1936 saw the bloody demise of Depression Era desperado Lawrence DeVol. A member of the Barker-Karpis gang, DeVol was known as an especially trigger happy psycho who had killed a number of police officers.</span></div><p></p><p>DeVol became an associate of Karpis when they both escaped from Kansas State Reformatory in 1929. In 1933 DeVol was arrested after participating in a bank robbery that resulted in the death of three people. DeVol pleaded guilty and was sent away to a prison for the criminally insane. In June of 1936 he lead an escape of fifteen inmates. By early July he and another escapee, Donald Reeder, had robbed a few banks in Kansas and were laying low in Enid, Oklahoma planning future robberies. </p><p>On July 8, DeVol and Reeder stopped into a beer parlor with a couple of dates. The proprietor didn't like the looks of them and thought they might be there to rob him. (Later he would state that a few weeks prior he heard DeVol's description given over the radio on the show Gang Busters and recognized him) Either way, the saloonkeeper called the cops. </p><p>Two police men, officers Cal Palmer and Ralph Knarr, entered and approached DeVol's table and asked him to leave with them. "Let me finish my beer and I'll go with you." DeVol responded. As he drained his stein with one hand, DeVol drew a gun from his pocket with the other and opened fire on the cops, Palmer died immediately and Knarr was seriously wounded. </p><p>DeVol and his companions fled from the place. Other police in the vicinity started to chase the desperado who jumped onto the running board of a car in an attempt to escape but the car came to a halt. Officers opened fire on the gunman who returned the fire as he tried to getaway on foot. After a few rounds the lawmen's bullets found their mark and DeVol dropped to the street dead.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVRoDJSntku3ISynaAs7a7lNOHpHFBpQWU0oSRLeWK_CYI8ZpG6aVdAsVKWxDK_5GBAm9jT3CNn1xK4mq0uLNeXoVAyJrMJyFFYeByoHX4cvMr7LdZXUtatpcTJfrXAlWygLrN3pByikQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="877" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVRoDJSntku3ISynaAs7a7lNOHpHFBpQWU0oSRLeWK_CYI8ZpG6aVdAsVKWxDK_5GBAm9jT3CNn1xK4mq0uLNeXoVAyJrMJyFFYeByoHX4cvMr7LdZXUtatpcTJfrXAlWygLrN3pByikQ/" width="149" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Lawrence DeVol</div><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-10156520392711666372021-07-07T08:11:00.002-04:002021-07-07T08:12:03.394-04:00Kennedy Shot!<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3wp570-jd92BkqiwwCP72j8N5rqXdaO9or6ZwVZXjKWuo64_zxG5UIJn21fO42vabOpTzQ_OSnfy2Yh5IHaexiWcJIerafYnL4NM7B5bvU99q_SuLlvHOslhDsu9m82PUV1Smx2qGyw/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="552" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3wp570-jd92BkqiwwCP72j8N5rqXdaO9or6ZwVZXjKWuo64_zxG5UIJn21fO42vabOpTzQ_OSnfy2Yh5IHaexiWcJIerafYnL4NM7B5bvU99q_SuLlvHOslhDsu9m82PUV1Smx2qGyw/" width="237" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>July 7, 1933 saw the demise of Toledo bootlegger and nightclub entrepreneur Jack Kennedy. Though only in his early twenties, Kennedy was said to be fearless; so when a gang of Detroit gangsters headed by Thomas "Yonnie" Licavoli came to town in an attempt to monopolize Toledo's underworld; Kennedy refused to kneel.</p><p>The first attempt came on December 1, 1932 when Kennedy and his girlfriend, Louise Bell, were riding in Jack's coupe in downtown Toledo. When they stopped for a light, an auto, with Michigan plates, containing four men, armed with possibly two machineguns, pulled up alongside them and opened fire. Kennedy got through unscathed but his girlfriend was struck in the head by a bullet and later died at the hospital. According to witnesses, after the shooting, the gunmen headed towards Detroit.</p><p>The following summer the boys from Detroit finished the job when they traced Kennedy to his home in the shore community of Point Place just outside of Toledo. (since annexed by the city). Kennedy and his new girlfriend, Audrey Ralls, left his cottage and walked to the store for some groceries. Upon their return, the realized the milk they had purchased was sour, so headed back to the store. While strolling back home, a man grabbed Ralls from behind and pushed her out of the way while another man fired at least six bullets into Kennedy, killing him.</p><p>Witnesses were able to identify the killers and armed with this, as well as evidence from a few other gangland murders, cases were made against Licavoli and his gang and all were sentenced to life in prison.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnYq-7uZrl_e7fzozMpPZMY3s1hpVWFu1ebtphaQmnmz9lwiXujAWFMTfMmUYr2Fbw_tkn4pbEgjnLb_YAJLSmbAExE4rYpTuYrmcL3pOW-eYU3kuWANy_63LpDcfQVYqzAMnNd5bAhs/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMnYq-7uZrl_e7fzozMpPZMY3s1hpVWFu1ebtphaQmnmz9lwiXujAWFMTfMmUYr2Fbw_tkn4pbEgjnLb_YAJLSmbAExE4rYpTuYrmcL3pOW-eYU3kuWANy_63LpDcfQVYqzAMnNd5bAhs/" width="125" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Jack Kennedy</div><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-10826962112993566762021-07-06T00:00:00.001-04:002021-07-06T00:00:00.238-04:00By Person Or Persons Unknown<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Fs3MbycmAh6ZH9oL0TwHXwIwEwq-vimDNXxuYJX5hyV7H6tUmPh1i0fOk3oXFtg1xv4wuVBoGdpz7VpTvurORL0v9jbjMj3Gk_xXstwDaytfFWM5NpRy0OQX2vvgx-WCcnXXPXPSJKU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="214" data-original-width="545" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5Fs3MbycmAh6ZH9oL0TwHXwIwEwq-vimDNXxuYJX5hyV7H6tUmPh1i0fOk3oXFtg1xv4wuVBoGdpz7VpTvurORL0v9jbjMj3Gk_xXstwDaytfFWM5NpRy0OQX2vvgx-WCcnXXPXPSJKU/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">James "Red" McGee was a former Chicago cop (he quit the force in 1927) who made a failed attempt to become an alderman. The summer of '32 found him as proprietor of the Del Rio Cafe; a speakeasy he purchased a month previous, just across the Chicago line in Evergreen Park. </span></div><p></p><p>On the evening of July 6, 1932 McGee stood at his bar with an associate named Bernie Larkin. Larkin was known as a former member of Ralph Sheldon's gang. He also had a brother named Thomas "the Goat" Larkin, a one time member of Spike O'Donnell's mob. </p><p>As McGee and Larkin stood together, two men entered the establishment. One carrying a shotgun the other a handgun. "Hello Red," one of the men said. As McGee turned to see who called him, the gunmen opened fire. McGee and Larkin dropped to the floor dead. </p><p>According to McGee's wife Margaret, who worked as a cashier at another roadhouse, Red knew he was on the spot but she didn't why. She mentioned that earlier she told Red that she would pick him up around 1 o'clock that evening and drive him home. "No Peggy, you'd better not. I'm hot."</p><p>A subsequent search of the premises showed that, in addition to owning the Del Rio, McGee had also been financial secretary for the defunct Cemetery Workers Union. Police chalked the murder up to McGee failing to buy beer from the right vendor. The investigation was closed the following day with the verdict of murder by person or persons unknown.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig0GXj6EQjVNqzPNrUiqeCtgvX-oyWGtz4CIXss0wxcgTGqLM-GRjzO5a_p_Yps9oYXbWuzjjXJzmjFgQN8txepu5m5Omp6NXKoViO9D-6okbx6_azjyWRsNiVyaVmhc7q38rNcElwSYI/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="201" data-original-width="201" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig0GXj6EQjVNqzPNrUiqeCtgvX-oyWGtz4CIXss0wxcgTGqLM-GRjzO5a_p_Yps9oYXbWuzjjXJzmjFgQN8txepu5m5Omp6NXKoViO9D-6okbx6_azjyWRsNiVyaVmhc7q38rNcElwSYI/w237-h237/image.png" width="237" /></a> </div><div style="text-align: center;">James "Red" McGee</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLuELYB58NV354iwDCEUUVCUeddiyvPsq3o4JL6cvNWHvRibcvvsHoqPkiTSaY1r-mdALJRpWFT5zPYTcIMz4x35P7Biuao2RS3jGd-wXsVM3Ed3c3ncaBLdVw3_WFeC7QyMjVaenm-F8/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1117" data-original-width="546" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLuELYB58NV354iwDCEUUVCUeddiyvPsq3o4JL6cvNWHvRibcvvsHoqPkiTSaY1r-mdALJRpWFT5zPYTcIMz4x35P7Biuao2RS3jGd-wXsVM3Ed3c3ncaBLdVw3_WFeC7QyMjVaenm-F8/w126-h258/image.png" width="126" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Bernie Larkin</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig0GXj6EQjVNqzPNrUiqeCtgvX-oyWGtz4CIXss0wxcgTGqLM-GRjzO5a_p_Yps9oYXbWuzjjXJzmjFgQN8txepu5m5Omp6NXKoViO9D-6okbx6_azjyWRsNiVyaVmhc7q38rNcElwSYI/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-89024094583835637622021-03-11T00:00:00.005-05:002021-03-11T00:00:03.792-05:00Lefty Leaves the Underworld<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEiMPFRGzn-miqbzgjTsjA8UmBTzpeVophvU-v43yES0wthz8CFibAORYlrLrtaNS52lK-av9_WDYdwX0KgNWvVFcmakoBHwZUyVZ8CPAy95kTvN5UVH2geSKD7HmHAgMOKnOnlOZzo_k/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="562" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEiMPFRGzn-miqbzgjTsjA8UmBTzpeVophvU-v43yES0wthz8CFibAORYlrLrtaNS52lK-av9_WDYdwX0KgNWvVFcmakoBHwZUyVZ8CPAy95kTvN5UVH2geSKD7HmHAgMOKnOnlOZzo_k/" width="233" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Frank "Lefty" Koncil was a top man in the Saltis-McErlane gang, one of the premier gangs of Chicago's Southside. In the fall of 1926 Koncil and Saltis were put on the trial for the murder rival gangster John "Mitters" Foley, an associate of Saltis and McErlane's chief rival Ralph Sheldon. Frank McErlane was also dealing with a murder trial at the time. In early November both Saltis and Koncil were acquitted but the trials of the three executives took a toll on business. With their legal troubles behind them, the gangsters began to make up for lost time.</span></div><p></p><p>"We're down. We're broke," Koncil told detectives in early March of 1927, "But we won't stay that way. We're going to get back what we used to have. We won't be pushed around any more. And if anybody gets in the way, we'll take care of him."</p><p>On the night of March 11, Less than a week after making those statements at the detective bureau, Koncil was in Saltis's sedan along with gang member Charles "Big Hayes" Hrubrek. It is believed that they had just exited a saloon where they were informing the proprietor that they were back in business. At about 11:45 pm, witnesses saw the Saltis car come flying around a corner followed by another sedan. The second car pulled up alongside the first and the shotguns went off. </p><p>Koncil stopped the car and both he and Hrubrek hit the pavement. Another volley was fired and the latter, mortally wounded, fell face first to the ground. Koncil too collapsed. More shots were fired at him. After a few moments he got up and staggered a few few feet before dropping dead.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="819" data-original-width="546" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-qHZGDZoQ9r2e_SN_LksZO9GmKpKMihrStSIHADDX1AfaTjQ4GkmthMnqablV6x1Lt6Q5TfORsCKeBA70uCJK_PReW0vk-MbXIHnIAFxcoZD47J8E1zflllMG61Z_SiQAfGKImY2F1LA/w122-h183/image.png" width="122" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfJCQtnIKkzD7FE2HCtAbe4rndkPb2_-54ZQ2-kNF-QzoQO5HOtOgrPzGiw6pPsdW6qF6zVpHh13__pyscc7k03Z2jmeVTTTwfRuqhw45wmLH2p7ieDjdnAzBEFT0kmaqEleGPAb1JzKs/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="745" data-original-width="546" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfJCQtnIKkzD7FE2HCtAbe4rndkPb2_-54ZQ2-kNF-QzoQO5HOtOgrPzGiw6pPsdW6qF6zVpHh13__pyscc7k03Z2jmeVTTTwfRuqhw45wmLH2p7ieDjdnAzBEFT0kmaqEleGPAb1JzKs/w135-h184/image.png" width="135" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Frank "Lefty" Koncil Charles Hrubek </div><br /><br /><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-32656776928579623132021-03-07T00:00:00.003-05:002021-03-07T09:11:44.604-05:00The Bad Pope<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZpEGn-aU53ba1xb-HZYOGUyJTmy4L0SrXT4iR-x8p0rOhDK0a_HlMiuirGh5w1A-JAhk1IbGfOn6h0SB8-GMH7PgXCYy7Wo52oe0KoI9R56RdhPRcWRfhPeZsHvA2Xv8SJn4ZJNjtKU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="199" data-original-width="545" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZpEGn-aU53ba1xb-HZYOGUyJTmy4L0SrXT4iR-x8p0rOhDK0a_HlMiuirGh5w1A-JAhk1IbGfOn6h0SB8-GMH7PgXCYy7Wo52oe0KoI9R56RdhPRcWRfhPeZsHvA2Xv8SJn4ZJNjtKU/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Erneste Mazzoni better known as, "West Side" Frankie Pope was a Chicago hoodlum who was sent to Leavenworth prison in mid 1931 for violation of the Prohibition Act. Released in November of 1933 Pope, who added the West Side to his name to distinguish himself from the more infamous North Side Frankie Pope, had a small racket going where he would take money from family members of Leavenworth prisoners to help get them paroled. Only problem was, he didn't do anything for them after taking the money.</span></div><p></p><p>This was the reason anyway that police gave after two men entered his hotel room on the morning of March 7, 1934 and blasted him into eternity. According to witnesses, Pope returned to his room that morning and a short time later to men entered the hotel. They called up to his room and after a brief discussion went up.</p><p>Once they were in his room for a few minutes, a cleaning woman heard lady scream, "My God! Don't do that!" This was followed by about ten shots. All of which hit Pope. Hearing the shooting, the desk clerk called the cops but the gunmen and the woman were gone before they arrived.</p><p>It was while searching Pope's room that detectives came across the list of prisoners and their families. On the list were two notorious bank robbers and killers; Thomas Holden and Francis Keating. Perhaps Pope double crossed them in some fashion and they had him knocked off.</p><p>Six hours later another West Side hoodlum, Daniel Losce sat in his car smoking a cigarette when another car pulled up and let loose a barrage of gunfire. Losce slumped over dead. The dead man had a record dating back to 1922 including an arrest for murder. Back at his house, police found a small arsenal. Interestingly, he was a suspect in the 1928 Evergreen Park mail robbery which resulted in the theft of $133,000. This job was pulled by a gang headed by Thomas Holden and Francis Keating. This link had police wondering, was Losce working with Pope? Or was it simply a coincidence that they both were bumped off on the same day?</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="855" data-original-width="546" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCM8Sy_MqtlCPWEvCcqob-uyZjDVoMsMXxsVUINgqa5rSorFWrvbgL37teEJcrxKDtDlpUB-DhqKHWm6HyTNKhmlwT_CvkTAgtEsA0sEMdF7DASt2eStJLUktP_O3_nFPkAgGT5ge5ecc/w122-h191/image.png" width="122" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7IK9EpYnpJ99mC_a9HcZ_-NVhR0MC8Sgh-XMxTFVUGACkr5fEvuXXU3M0gnVuACC5iLBYX0Of3lqlzYKj01rnkwU9h3j5k8FI3rpS_4UhfsQn5aiYK5FnaMOmt1fke636oM5ht-0kJFU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="822" data-original-width="546" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7IK9EpYnpJ99mC_a9HcZ_-NVhR0MC8Sgh-XMxTFVUGACkr5fEvuXXU3M0gnVuACC5iLBYX0Of3lqlzYKj01rnkwU9h3j5k8FI3rpS_4UhfsQn5aiYK5FnaMOmt1fke636oM5ht-0kJFU/w127-h191/image.png" width="127" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCM8Sy_MqtlCPWEvCcqob-uyZjDVoMsMXxsVUINgqa5rSorFWrvbgL37teEJcrxKDtDlpUB-DhqKHWm6HyTNKhmlwT_CvkTAgtEsA0sEMdF7DASt2eStJLUktP_O3_nFPkAgGT5ge5ecc/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div> West Side Frankie Pope Daniel Losce <p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-31073433833367450562021-03-06T00:00:00.010-05:002021-03-07T09:11:21.722-05:00The Fat Lady Sings for the Fat Man<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVgkkb-XZgoDQVeOQXrHfmSIt_YpaueZpnrsod_V648hg1V8usJibvFLdsOfn-0edZ_H2uSU_ne-dMbCa9ZW08bqG_ow7uzIwxp0Joucg491nHLcqpfoNVEeJpsqDHTSkwoxv55ddzgQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="99" data-original-width="543" height="83" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVgkkb-XZgoDQVeOQXrHfmSIt_YpaueZpnrsod_V648hg1V8usJibvFLdsOfn-0edZ_H2uSU_ne-dMbCa9ZW08bqG_ow7uzIwxp0Joucg491nHLcqpfoNVEeJpsqDHTSkwoxv55ddzgQ/w458-h83/image.png" width="458" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: left;">Thomas "Fatty" Walsh was a New York gangster who was in the upper echelon of drug czar and criminal king pin Arnold Rothstein. As such, he was a close associate of fellow Big Apple gangsters Jack "Legs" Diamond and Charles "Lucky" Luciano. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Walsh was one of those who visited Rothstein in the hospital after the latter was shot. He was picked up and questioned after Rothstein died but was not considered a suspect. Afterwards, Walsh moved to Miami, Florida where he was part owner of a casino ran out of the Miami-Biltmore hotel. On the evening of March 6, 1929, while he was watching the evening's play, one of his partners, Eddie Wilson, approached him and shot him twice in the stomach then turned the gun on another partner, "Chick" Clark and managed to wound him. Walsh stood up and pitched forward dead. The reason for the shooting was that Walsh and Clark were trying to squeeze Wilson out of some his share. It didn't help that Walsh also made of Wilson's speech impediment earlier that evening.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuHbZF-3b3U7KDLWmbEC7f5QqpBX-O1WyMlIKyEj6GcWvMYYR8TXYe-G800PxG1t-GMtMuCICSPebWDhtF_eOBw6VkKch5H9aH9iizjJd273FFfidRoRV8XF8h6d3h8WD8tzBepJsIQk/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="399" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpuHbZF-3b3U7KDLWmbEC7f5QqpBX-O1WyMlIKyEj6GcWvMYYR8TXYe-G800PxG1t-GMtMuCICSPebWDhtF_eOBw6VkKch5H9aH9iizjJd273FFfidRoRV8XF8h6d3h8WD8tzBepJsIQk/" width="239" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Thomas Fatty Walsh</div><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-87917570250893485312021-03-05T13:56:00.002-05:002021-03-05T13:56:46.272-05:00Dingbat Goes for a Ride<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKywxPPDN-c50CdmTPqdgWyRynJOdOHICB0j8RD2xX5D4gWizT4uTUE5J_Ma8DsatU4oYSHjph7YRMLEenYJqxo1mMG7EKIrNzKbDZAsdtkVhjhugu4RgixvuRYl_Aq5FYC6k-PbasDs/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="114" data-original-width="539" height="72" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYKywxPPDN-c50CdmTPqdgWyRynJOdOHICB0j8RD2xX5D4gWizT4uTUE5J_Ma8DsatU4oYSHjph7YRMLEenYJqxo1mMG7EKIrNzKbDZAsdtkVhjhugu4RgixvuRYl_Aq5FYC6k-PbasDs/w339-h72/image.png" width="339" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">John "Dingbat" Oberta was a hoodlum who rose through ranks on Chicago's Southside. Along with crazy man Frank McErlane, he was part of gang leader Joe Saltis's executive board. In addition to bootlegging, Oberta dabbled in local politics as well. </span></div><p></p><p>By 1930 Saltis was in exile in Wisconsin and it appears that his two cohorts, Oberta and McErlane couldn't get along. In February of that year, McErlane showed up at the hospital with a bullet wound to the leg. Most likely fired by his wife during a fight. On the evening of February 24, McErlane lay in bed recuperating; his leg up in traction. At about 9 p.m. two men entered his room and opened fire on him. </p><p>McErlane prepared for just such an emergency. Pulling out a .45 from under his pillow, the gunman returned fire. Though hit three times, McErlane managed to scare of his would be killers. When questioned by the police as to who the invaders were McErlane is reported to have said:</p><p>"Look for them in a ditch. That's where you will find them...McErlane takes care of McErlane"</p><p>The next day, McErlane was released and taken to his parents house to recover from his wounds.</p><p>About a week later, on the evening of March 5, Dingbat Oberta called his wife at about 7 p.m. from their florist shop and told her of his evening's plans. Two and a half hours later, a cop found Oberta's Lincoln off the road in a ditch. Inside on the passenger side was Dingbat with what appeared to be a shotgun wound to the back of his head. Outside submerged in the icy water of the gully was Oberta's bodyguard and chauffer, Sammy Malaga. He had been shot a number of times before being tossed in. </p><p>It appears that McErlane took care of things.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="692" data-original-width="546" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwk-z2aD0scLzuOyBhJMk1RkFOJ4OpUyOMvWcLMs-TUV7QYlM31X1TQA7nqFhe1y865tBSzi3Kt-1P4BTTuQP0pKQ60akJBZo4aofJSH0reVPfvOBEU1o1aNpFolgFlzl2nBOws0f7Bks/w128-h163/image.png" width="128" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbnr77uIfntbLGPMyrpxLu__hzQFh2cJ27oD7pzE1ixW3YKRivDdGHRBiq6EeAvHeHFyRIiPpBReUL4O15OddTdW_1-C-3_aweYCCHmun9gbNSYnfZr8J9HuOdwrMpteZEZ6hGqPBSyqY/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="669" data-original-width="546" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbnr77uIfntbLGPMyrpxLu__hzQFh2cJ27oD7pzE1ixW3YKRivDdGHRBiq6EeAvHeHFyRIiPpBReUL4O15OddTdW_1-C-3_aweYCCHmun9gbNSYnfZr8J9HuOdwrMpteZEZ6hGqPBSyqY/w130-h160/image.png" width="130" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">John Dingbat Oberta Sammy Malaga </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwk-z2aD0scLzuOyBhJMk1RkFOJ4OpUyOMvWcLMs-TUV7QYlM31X1TQA7nqFhe1y865tBSzi3Kt-1P4BTTuQP0pKQ60akJBZo4aofJSH0reVPfvOBEU1o1aNpFolgFlzl2nBOws0f7Bks/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-83114137230522178802021-03-05T09:50:00.001-05:002021-03-05T09:50:40.522-05:00Strawberry Fields For Horton<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj6Bqupg_tVybvz0zWa5IWFJbKjtgDnD6ppaGLcF7BPZvadwVPK4kbKXzmsw7R7D-Aqw0cz-agBN1k7V1L1esph09nqJQjeTEgElHaVGSgcxvuGjCi2GV63nPOR-uUq-nPGOkMIUNi8E/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="162" data-original-width="544" height="95" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFj6Bqupg_tVybvz0zWa5IWFJbKjtgDnD6ppaGLcF7BPZvadwVPK4kbKXzmsw7R7D-Aqw0cz-agBN1k7V1L1esph09nqJQjeTEgElHaVGSgcxvuGjCi2GV63nPOR-uUq-nPGOkMIUNi8E/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"> "Orlando Jack" Horton was a Chicago hoodlum who fled the Windy City in 1924 when his bootlegging partner, John Duffy, was bumped off. He and his wife were picked up a few days later in New Orleans but no evidence could be found to link him to the crime.</span></div></div><p></p><p>With Chicago being to hot for him, Horton set up operations in Lafayette, Indiana. He was arrested for selling drugs and did about three years in Leavenworth. In mid-August 1929, Lafayette firefighters were called to burning home. After dousing the flames they came across a "monster" still and evidence of a large bootlegging enterprise. A search showed that the house belonged to a Robert Horat. Detectives soon found out that Horat was in fact, Orlando Jack Horton and he was arrested. </p><p>Perhaps, coincidently, the following day, a number of Lafayette speakeasies were raided. After being charged with violating Federal Prohibition laws, Horton was scheduled to appear in court on March 17, 1930 and released on bail. He never made it to court.</p><p>On March 5, 1930 Horton's body, with five extra holes in it, was found face down in a strawberry patch on the outskirts of Lafayette.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGWiboScfBzun_sxvaqAw7pOZ56MTuGgtlImzb3i00ToYNOFBClqiNpK8tmaTCtrC_G8_c-Q7xK4yy_fPeRVHcjKnyY8Ei0GKNWDpsbFylAi36fh3iT9KOfYCu9tM6fOLkp441qpI8L4/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="858" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGWiboScfBzun_sxvaqAw7pOZ56MTuGgtlImzb3i00ToYNOFBClqiNpK8tmaTCtrC_G8_c-Q7xK4yy_fPeRVHcjKnyY8Ei0GKNWDpsbFylAi36fh3iT9KOfYCu9tM6fOLkp441qpI8L4/" width="153" /></a></div><br />Orlando Jack Horton</div><br /><br /><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-84749068675094478762021-03-03T00:00:00.010-05:002021-03-04T07:12:33.521-05:00Ford Not So Tough<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipHx2OMSVFBHIv2jM4XE5Vmx8EQrc-4D1v7UDftSyEZnf7Aq9C-oCXSDUisBpbP_OqMlnMDU93B3TINim-Q3YiEhdwLXdjy8jlLR8yVWRJsUuk5MId_7UF0hR7z7Dy1wXoCG3wHl4azwY/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="133" data-original-width="545" height="78" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipHx2OMSVFBHIv2jM4XE5Vmx8EQrc-4D1v7UDftSyEZnf7Aq9C-oCXSDUisBpbP_OqMlnMDU93B3TINim-Q3YiEhdwLXdjy8jlLR8yVWRJsUuk5MId_7UF0hR7z7Dy1wXoCG3wHl4azwY/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">On this date back in 1934, Oklahoma desperado and psychopath Ford Bradshaw met his end. He first appeared on police radar three years previously when his bullet riddled body was dumped from a car on the streets of Muskogee, but he refused to say who had shot him. The following year he was involved in a car jacking that resulted in the death of a woman. He was also accused of killing a gambler in 1933.</span></div><p></p><p>Bradshaw reportedly joined fellow Oklahoma bad man Wilbur Underhill a.k.a. the Tri-State Terror on some bank robberies. His exploits led to the Sooner-States National Guard being sent out to the Cookson Hills to bring him to justice. Bradshaw managed to elude them.</p><p>Bradshaw's downfall was a result of his own violent behavior. On March 3, he and his moll Stella "Boots" Moody patronized a roadhouse in Arkoma, Oklahoma. During their visit, Bradshaw lost a hundred bucks at gambling and then became belligerent, He wrecked a couple of slot machines and sent "Boots" out to their car to get his bullet-proof vest. She left his automatic shotgun in the car.</p><p>Back inside, Bradshaw threatened the other patrons and bartender, who happened to be a deputy sheriff and the owners brother, with a pistol and forced them to drink with him. Meanwhile, the proprietors wife and another patron snuck out and alerted the police. Officers came and surrounded the place. Once the police were their, the bartender drew his gun on Bradshaw who raised his hands. The police came in and disarmed the desperado and took his bullet proof vest. As they were escorting him out the back, he tried to make a dash for his car. A number of people tried to stop him and as they were wrestling about, the proprietor arrived with a gun and fired half a dozen shots into the thug.</p><p>"Don't do that!" Bradshaw groaned before rolling over dead.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLfMLOriieEkrprdq9k7gC83P6TnAYG-AQ9zn5kDxppBp8pZ3p0AUzMl4qubDrzRxKKsgKp1JuAODowyS4hUotsextqByrIkzblWBKrElp8b42ateedwcJkDytJWok2VljC4KhbH9J3s/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1044" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLfMLOriieEkrprdq9k7gC83P6TnAYG-AQ9zn5kDxppBp8pZ3p0AUzMl4qubDrzRxKKsgKp1JuAODowyS4hUotsextqByrIkzblWBKrElp8b42ateedwcJkDytJWok2VljC4KhbH9J3s/" width="126" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Ford Bradshaw</div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-39843864937914393422021-02-28T19:07:00.003-05:002021-02-28T19:07:39.449-05:00Izzy dead? Yes.<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKGP4C4nhcV8TJnOaISbTrE4U2EqoQBeKMJGE41IpkW8-d5P2I5O8HI1QtsbtLQSRn9O3Qmnjg_EH08KF8GtzeXvoIXavzoTSkEgpS-M4r1vpvu7u8U6ZRvkvvAvIZOfUTvzXOLwl2f0/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="138" data-original-width="546" height="81" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmKGP4C4nhcV8TJnOaISbTrE4U2EqoQBeKMJGE41IpkW8-d5P2I5O8HI1QtsbtLQSRn9O3Qmnjg_EH08KF8GtzeXvoIXavzoTSkEgpS-M4r1vpvu7u8U6ZRvkvvAvIZOfUTvzXOLwl2f0/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Izzy Presser was a career criminal who cut his teeth on Manhattan's lower east side. He was involved in at least one gangland killing in 1915 as well as robberies, drug dealing and bootlegging.</span></div><p></p><p>Over the years his name appeared in the papers numerous times. One reason was for successfully escaping from prison. In 1914 he was arrested as a vagrant and sent to the workhouse, from which he escaped. He was recaptured and finished his sentence. The following year he was sent away for twelve-years on a manslaughter charge following the 1915 murder. In 1921 he escaped from a road work gang and headed to New Jersey. He was arrested a number of times and ended up doing a stint in prison. Upon his release he was sent back to New York to finish his original sentence plus nine-hundred days for the escape. He told the Superintendent of prisons that he he didn't actually escape but was kidnapped. The Super bought it, and the extra three years were scratched and he was released after the original sentence.*</p><p>In the afternoon of this date in 1932, Presser borrowed his lawyer's car and, with $1400, in his pocket said he was going to dice game. At approximately 7:10pm a man left his place of business in Newark and saw Presser behind the wheel of a sedan, apparently sleeping. A few hours later he was still there, so he tried to wake him. </p><p>When the sleeping man was found to be dead, the police were called and they identified him immediately. It was their belief that Presser was bumped off for double crossing some bootleggers. He had been shot in the heart and the head.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWT2_D0fShzsI9w6oi75Q6zSMLSZsC3CqZLGASQ2uevwoIusjpAO7V-Lb6ACg1RUOITIKR3Qbrpq3YT4tQQPaSTjbTP4xWRViGbtKHdqNdHXmdDDKaq1kxyUgB18bp8SItDh-i84J7VQ/s400/izzy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="400" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbWT2_D0fShzsI9w6oi75Q6zSMLSZsC3CqZLGASQ2uevwoIusjpAO7V-Lb6ACg1RUOITIKR3Qbrpq3YT4tQQPaSTjbTP4xWRViGbtKHdqNdHXmdDDKaq1kxyUgB18bp8SItDh-i84J7VQ/w171-h171/izzy.jpg" width="171" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;">Izzy Presser</p><p>*After a newspaper expose the Superintendent of Prisons was fired. </p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-80076665818125149952021-02-21T18:56:00.000-05:002021-02-21T18:56:07.882-05:00Mean to Joe Green<div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1G0jt1fRi0EymRgr6HnkL5jZckuh87SrfS_HLH4dCrMbYtZZgYqSzg0o1HJiKLD2JpLALZl1c04kRNvdBmEtOck4b7hr35YyxMRnwBgtAv-A5U2SFGoP1xPgkfoIFHM5c3WV-9Zhy0jM/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="212" data-original-width="545" height="124" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1G0jt1fRi0EymRgr6HnkL5jZckuh87SrfS_HLH4dCrMbYtZZgYqSzg0o1HJiKLD2JpLALZl1c04kRNvdBmEtOck4b7hr35YyxMRnwBgtAv-A5U2SFGoP1xPgkfoIFHM5c3WV-9Zhy0jM/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">After a failed attempt in 1928, Albany gangsters put thirty-two year old bootlegger Joey Green out of business for good on February 19, 1933.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It was said that Green, also an Albany bad man, hi-jacked liquor that was traveling along the "rum trail" that lead from Canada to any number of towns in northern New York. In March of 1928, he was taken for a ride and his bullet riddled body dumped on the outskirts of the state capitol. With fourteen wounds, he managed to drag himself to a farm house and rescue.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The end came just after he was released from serving ten days on a traffic violation. Green was at a soft drink parlor in the town of Glens Falls, New York. when somebody pumped two bullets into his chest.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuKM3RQ8gYqges9L8ZW8-x_PXC8wA0rNVwXd3Q-INuUbOaV0eGmcc8r0X3LNUPNW6yNHXH-gJFDJcG8CwXX9aOR88T9mmhyt30hM7NuhyphenhypheneFKJZA09LVLR-ie20Bv78WFdT4rg8xei3-wA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="912" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuKM3RQ8gYqges9L8ZW8-x_PXC8wA0rNVwXd3Q-INuUbOaV0eGmcc8r0X3LNUPNW6yNHXH-gJFDJcG8CwXX9aOR88T9mmhyt30hM7NuhyphenhypheneFKJZA09LVLR-ie20Bv78WFdT4rg8xei3-wA/" width="144" /></a></div><br />Joey Green</div>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-23966160172308917682021-01-07T00:00:00.105-05:002021-01-07T00:00:01.355-05:00They Didn't Kill Him For Nothing<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVqfVJapQm0XhNK9AYlSxSrlKJB-o7zRpvx6wG_lkWWFJyBRx1sJh3h3hO20Zy8_4rEk2D9pNa_Soh4WwfhnbC-v5_qTalCMJgMxnUlDo0kvN7qiO2oZkCAO826I2c4tTGg_EmIdmXmE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="316" data-original-width="546" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVVqfVJapQm0XhNK9AYlSxSrlKJB-o7zRpvx6wG_lkWWFJyBRx1sJh3h3hO20Zy8_4rEk2D9pNa_Soh4WwfhnbC-v5_qTalCMJgMxnUlDo0kvN7qiO2oZkCAO826I2c4tTGg_EmIdmXmE/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">"He must have done something. They don't kill you for nothing." This was the response that Chicago gangster Ted Newberry gave to police whenever questioned about a gangland murder.</span></div><p></p><p>Like those he discussed before him, Newberry too went for a one-way ride; his took place on January 7, 1933. A product of Chicago's Northside, Newberry got involved with bootlegging in the early days of Prohibition. He muscled his away into the taxi racket and was pals with fellow racketeer Eugene Red McLaughlin during the days of the taxicab wars.</p><p>As the Roaring Twenties came to an end, Newberry was allied with George Bugs Moran and his Northside gang. In fact, Newberry narrowly missed being a victim of the St. Valentine's Day massacre as he was with Moran that morning. When they saw the rival gangsters (dressed as police) enter the gangs' headquarters, they dodged into a coffee shop assuming that it was a raid.</p><p>"He must have done something."</p><p>So what did Newberry do? In the early 1930s Moran was out of the picture and Newberry was allied with Al Capone. After Capone was sent to prison however, Newberry's relationship with Frank Nitti began to fall apart, his response was to have Nitti bumped off. A raid was set up in the latter's office in December of 1932 and Nitti was shot by a cop, but survived. After a few weeks recovery, Nitti figured out who was behind the botched raid and Newberry was removed. His body was found on a lonely stretch of road in Indiana.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33F0p_o2fyvnW5yJEL7ucZWPrXxb1eJDLyg3hu2641H0Q_8XI9W7QDCNLnWuoNWbiQzrsjoDM0b3L0906ZGaRzLeSN1-AN6IEZR9mlMWjm7tDdzDGGRKen1LsZuly4QTGyf4s9wsVhxE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="282" data-original-width="446" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh33F0p_o2fyvnW5yJEL7ucZWPrXxb1eJDLyg3hu2641H0Q_8XI9W7QDCNLnWuoNWbiQzrsjoDM0b3L0906ZGaRzLeSN1-AN6IEZR9mlMWjm7tDdzDGGRKen1LsZuly4QTGyf4s9wsVhxE/" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ted Newberry</div><br /><br /><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-45727213634833312232020-12-30T00:00:00.010-05:002020-12-30T00:00:03.123-05:00Toledo Twosome<p style="text-align: center;"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiUXx5gE6o3pT9UkJHqeNaSkLgevOZSUo1dWGbQtK69EjWGZlKa6FoQEoWOIDM4gOGXzxc4tCDjjw5wQfur76o_vlr-0w8fPhG7cRgN5z-MYpVa72k_A-6U6OVPMCK2rQ4lZR-ztVpsfY/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="387" data-original-width="545" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiUXx5gE6o3pT9UkJHqeNaSkLgevOZSUo1dWGbQtK69EjWGZlKa6FoQEoWOIDM4gOGXzxc4tCDjjw5wQfur76o_vlr-0w8fPhG7cRgN5z-MYpVa72k_A-6U6OVPMCK2rQ4lZR-ztVpsfY/" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>In the wee hours of December 30, 1932 26-year old Roland "Speedy" Lampert and his twenty-five year old pal Clayton Kress sat playing cards in the former's house. Lampert's wife, Minnie, also took part in the game. At 1:45 a.m. Lampert bid farewell to his wife and he and Kress left to go to their job at an alcohol cutting plant. Mrs. Lampert cleaned up and went to bed. Later in the day, police arrived at the Lampert house. Would Mrs. Lampert be able to accompany them on a twenty mile jaunt to a morgue in Monroe, Michigan to look at a couple of corpses?</p><p>Earlier that morning two teenage brothers were on their way to do some ice skating when they came up on car bearing Toledo license plates. Looking inside they saw two guys, each had his hands bound behind them and a rope around the neck. A bullet had been fired into the heads of both men as well.</p><p>Mrs. Lampert showed up at the morgue and confirmed what the police had suspected. The duo was her husband and Kress. The murders were chalked up to Toledo gangsters who killed them and then drove the car into Michigan.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8KMO5axbKz-DZCW-rexXU_gI5Dn_s37bcPv-IREohLuw9N6gE3T2I9yR4wnk9QPtrL9QflgAuCEdbEJIkoLVtgqXBDVjKeSKVNjWV92yM4LnKzkdpNculIPE8uR6hHuhn44cPBdDFA0/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="201" data-original-width="201" height="129" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV8KMO5axbKz-DZCW-rexXU_gI5Dn_s37bcPv-IREohLuw9N6gE3T2I9yR4wnk9QPtrL9QflgAuCEdbEJIkoLVtgqXBDVjKeSKVNjWV92yM4LnKzkdpNculIPE8uR6hHuhn44cPBdDFA0/w129-h129/image.png" width="129" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWkSwhm49rn3WoRvrTfnoBO31ocNHIXdvFlhPDtim5yElE9yZlivD7kFKTixAjMzdmF2orhBbW0mVsrmQrCFJ5Bthfw_NkikiSDyGgHH913S50pVtIUcIK1erkwaqDVvw9PvQnvfb-_Q/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="201" data-original-width="201" height="126" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNWkSwhm49rn3WoRvrTfnoBO31ocNHIXdvFlhPDtim5yElE9yZlivD7kFKTixAjMzdmF2orhBbW0mVsrmQrCFJ5Bthfw_NkikiSDyGgHH913S50pVtIUcIK1erkwaqDVvw9PvQnvfb-_Q/w126-h126/image.png" width="126" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Roland Lampert Clayton Kress</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-23568310490437255702020-11-29T00:00:00.003-05:002020-11-29T00:00:05.635-05:00When Gangland Gets There First<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlUgLlSnMSnWgSY1x_7-5T10jZVwdorGJOx8VM2UD_jjFHRF5XUaP2Bx1XUFqYSdUs7hTzkzuBybiGSB6o-e_S0wMrnmOc93k6lo_oAM2UEpUWkGEcA4Y7WEJMygCi9ycJxTZlKrNJ-g/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="451" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlUgLlSnMSnWgSY1x_7-5T10jZVwdorGJOx8VM2UD_jjFHRF5XUaP2Bx1XUFqYSdUs7hTzkzuBybiGSB6o-e_S0wMrnmOc93k6lo_oAM2UEpUWkGEcA4Y7WEJMygCi9ycJxTZlKrNJ-g/" width="291" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">November 29, 1933 saw the demise of gangland killer and one time South Dakota sheriff, Verne Miller. A veteran of WWI, Miller became the sheriff of Huron, South Dakota but fled office with about $2800. He was captured and sent to prison where he was released after serving 18 months.</span></div></div><p></p><p>Upon his release he became involved in bootlegging and then drifted into bank robbery in the late 1920s and early 1930s. On June 17, 1933, in a botched attempt to free his friend Frank "Jelly" Nash from the FBI, Miller and two cohorts, supposedly Pretty Boy Floyds and Adam Richetti, ended up killing Nash and five of the law men with him in what is known as the Kansas City Massacre.</p><p>After the KC Massacre the FBI was determined to bring Miller in. The hottest man in the USA, Miller found himself unwelcome in the Midwest underworld. He headed east where he was friendly with New York syndicate boss Louis Lepke Buchalter. A Lepke associate named Al Silvers helped Miller with a car and some optometry equipment to use as a front as an eyeglass salesman.</p><p>Knowing the Lepke was friendly with Miller, the FBI paid the gang lord a visit and let him know that things could get hot for him if he aided Miller. On November 1, Miller escaped a shootout with the FBI but dumped his bullet riddled car. Inside the auto the FBI found the optometry equipment and were able to trace it back to Al Silvers, who went into hiding.</p><p>Lepke had a dilemma; if the FBI caught either Silvers or Miller what might they spill in an attempt at leniency? <a href="https://deadgangster.blogspot.com/2020/11/the-price-of-friendship.html">Silvers was the first to go on November 20</a>. Lepke's boys caught up with Miller in Detroit nine days later. Liker Silvers, Miller was garroted by those he knew and probably trusted. He was then bludgeoned to death with a hammer. His naked body, like that of Silvers, was found tossed on stretch of road covered with a blanket.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_AGdPAuMnuWDw9k6MiAZXZ61xzCsxiP_6oHY_dB6fdvR0H4utOUnI0tP-MY6ZtzH_sYNl8371Sie0SvIu8jiB6AivmY7g1osqDx77Mwq6oK4jftERMs2HjU7J-M3HtvCXHPzzmmusJBU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="198" data-original-width="300" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_AGdPAuMnuWDw9k6MiAZXZ61xzCsxiP_6oHY_dB6fdvR0H4utOUnI0tP-MY6ZtzH_sYNl8371Sie0SvIu8jiB6AivmY7g1osqDx77Mwq6oK4jftERMs2HjU7J-M3HtvCXHPzzmmusJBU/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Verne Miller</div></div><br /><br /><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-15059778394634919302020-11-22T00:00:00.002-05:002020-11-22T00:00:05.021-05:00Cuckoos Get Two Birds<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcuB_9YJDeBPIA7ciL8zH_A_8PlyYu6X2YvHFRCzYCv_-Y758ZSD8okHhbJOgq9m7kR2Qd-KpzaTW_ZiyGSvhSKxc7H7Ii8uJu7gJAzuhKNRMWsa3hSpwjxQUuwZDeYb8TsUNyG5196LA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="112" data-original-width="542" height="66" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcuB_9YJDeBPIA7ciL8zH_A_8PlyYu6X2YvHFRCzYCv_-Y758ZSD8okHhbJOgq9m7kR2Qd-KpzaTW_ZiyGSvhSKxc7H7Ii8uJu7gJAzuhKNRMWsa3hSpwjxQUuwZDeYb8TsUNyG5196LA/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Lester Barth and Dewey Goebel were former Cuckoo gang members who sided with Tommy Hayes when the latter split with the St. Louis gang. It is believed that <a href="https://deadgangster.blogspot.com/2020/10/in-still-of-night.html">the duo were responsible for the deaths of some of their former gang mates.</a></span></div><p></p><p>Like most men of their ilk, Barth and Goebel met a violent death. On November 22, 1930 both men had just exited a grocery store they visited nearly every day at the same time (a fact no doubt known to the Cuckoo gunmen in the Hudson sedan that was following them) and, after loading the groceries into Goebel's Ford couple, the duo pulled away.</p><p>As they drove along, the Hudson, containing four or five men, pulled up along side of them and three of the men, each armed with a Thompson machine-gun, opened fire.</p><p>Bullets ripped into the coupe and crashed through the rear window. The groceries exploded as bullet after bulled poured into the car. Hoping to lose their pursuers, Goeble turned onto a side street, but the gun men made the turn as well, continuing to fire their weapons. After a couple of blocks Goebel jumped the curb and came to a stop as the Hudson continued.</p><p>Witnesses approached the coupe and pulled the duo, both of whom had bullet wounds to the head, from the car. Both died later at the hospital. A search of their homes turned up a Thompson machine-gun, two pistols and ammunition in the coal bin of Barth's house.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf1tHhzPN0eoBV4v2okdKobOlUMHEG7uZrZnTVYeApF9dC7kZBzZUwyCRwrsF_uZ3GMTYil9fZMhp45tichhTgShXLYetCAJPxSJGd1HQw19XTDIeb-MAxm5HN4k-Qr6GkkWave0e75V4/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf1tHhzPN0eoBV4v2okdKobOlUMHEG7uZrZnTVYeApF9dC7kZBzZUwyCRwrsF_uZ3GMTYil9fZMhp45tichhTgShXLYetCAJPxSJGd1HQw19XTDIeb-MAxm5HN4k-Qr6GkkWave0e75V4/" width="279" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">L. Lester Barth R. Dewey Goebel</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkAkksruGPAIem535nW1CHW94T0gJjZ3eUf-erZQsNppzIr8pbVIV0rKP9NIhLFGaZNlrWyjtY1okVQZXBT6xrtir6Mb5mEYAeGktbuuvEbpCl8dko7lStZPTAKJYdAicxJzx3wzHSTw/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="320" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhkAkksruGPAIem535nW1CHW94T0gJjZ3eUf-erZQsNppzIr8pbVIV0rKP9NIhLFGaZNlrWyjtY1okVQZXBT6xrtir6Mb5mEYAeGktbuuvEbpCl8dko7lStZPTAKJYdAicxJzx3wzHSTw/" width="244" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The death car</div><br /><br /></div><p></p><br style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" /><br style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-58489476559025372082020-11-20T18:59:00.009-05:002020-11-20T19:24:42.791-05:00The Price of Friendship<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiXpF0zfzY_UGvcEAmmWJs9n_i6IIcMfytkUun8c6gmWMzPaGTYKej0Ikdik1fDuWieLyG9cx2f0vyfjxZgUOk7nOhEr85sXtsQiCgnwgUAwebXZHJ3_YYA0Fjc80WPKE_QZSeQvVfMA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="417" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqiXpF0zfzY_UGvcEAmmWJs9n_i6IIcMfytkUun8c6gmWMzPaGTYKej0Ikdik1fDuWieLyG9cx2f0vyfjxZgUOk7nOhEr85sXtsQiCgnwgUAwebXZHJ3_YYA0Fjc80WPKE_QZSeQvVfMA/" width="314" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Around noon on November 20, 1933 the naked body of New Jersey racketeer Albert Silvers was found on a lonely stretch of road outside of Somers, Connecticut partially covered with a blanket. He had been stabbed twice in the heart with an ice pick and garroted with a sash cord and neck tie. When found, his tongue protruded from his mouth and blood still oozed from the stab wounds. </span></div><p></p><p>Though an east coast racketeer, Silvers, who was a lieutenant of New York racket chief Lepke Buchalter, was murdered for his loyal friendship to a mid-westerner; South Dakota ex-sheriff Verne Miller. Miller was the hottest criminal in America during the second half of 1933 due to his orchestrating the Kansas City Massacre, which resulted in the deaths of five law enforcement officers, including an FBI agent.</p><p>Silvers helped Miller elude capture with the help of his brother who was an optometrist. The Silvers supplied Miller with a salesman's case full of optometry equipment so he could travel the country posing as a salesman. Silvers also set Miller up with an automobile.</p><p>On November 1, 1933 Miller escaped a shootout with FBI and police and they later found his shot up car with the optometry equipment. The FBI was able to trace the equipment to Silvers, who lammed it. Since Silvers was a close associate of Lepke, the syndicate leader had a decision to make. If the FBI got hold of Silvers, what might he say to get out of trouble? Men, no doubt associates of Silvers, were sent out to him, Possibly in Hartford where he was known to stay, or at a hotel in Massachusetts; no one knows for sure. Wherever they met him, they left him on that lonely road in Somers, Connecticut.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuXjrbqz_ljx89OUxyyKUAyQvlM_bY7V_Q8rZgNLebrpVzWId0_MO5p8CnRbFmih-NPbDv7ocjJpswzHiC9XXr4wuysYSJhrIKYJQUNLQzXdl5KvhFilUyXvBalwxfYCYrO91rTW-Vzvs/s1600/silvers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="771" data-original-width="546" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuXjrbqz_ljx89OUxyyKUAyQvlM_bY7V_Q8rZgNLebrpVzWId0_MO5p8CnRbFmih-NPbDv7ocjJpswzHiC9XXr4wuysYSJhrIKYJQUNLQzXdl5KvhFilUyXvBalwxfYCYrO91rTW-Vzvs/s320/silvers.jpg" width="226" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">Al Silvers</p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-38240501798123289582020-11-08T00:00:00.001-05:002020-11-08T00:00:08.456-05:00Pain In The Leg<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIeeWhZqNOv5FSa-YNYZRY0eavk7pPcK-9zI81NFhk1jz-y2qlb_rW-OOQ7LjBtecsUiutb_MythaTjgyg0syi6vrLxfj2Dw6RPTstva4YUU5-9BPh8psPSLOtpJyRqa1AHHOQRdnJvKY/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="381" data-original-width="546" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIeeWhZqNOv5FSa-YNYZRY0eavk7pPcK-9zI81NFhk1jz-y2qlb_rW-OOQ7LjBtecsUiutb_MythaTjgyg0syi6vrLxfj2Dw6RPTstva4YUU5-9BPh8psPSLOtpJyRqa1AHHOQRdnJvKY/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Jimmy Cox had already lost an arm to gangster bullets. On November 8, he almost lost a leg as well. The gangster had just left a funeral home where he paid his final respects to fellow hoodlum James Darmondy who himself had </span><a href="https://deadgangster.blogspot.com/2020/10/in-still-of-night.html" style="text-align: left;">survived a machine-gun attack</a><span style="text-align: left;"> that took the lives of two of his comrades back in 1928.</span></div><p></p><p>Darmondy was rubbed out on November 5, after a run in with a cop. Cox visited the funeral parlor and left at...well, I'll just let him tell the story: "I left the undertakers about midnight...and started to drive east. I had just started when a large car with three fellows in it came up the street, and one of them started firing with a machine-gun."</p><p>Three of the bullets ripped into Cox's leg but he managed to get to a hospital with the help of a friend. Though he survived this attempt, he had <a href="https://deadgangster.blogspot.com/2020/09/a-wing-gets-clipped.html">a date with destiny a few years later.</a></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLaukKSzxqQ2cCNNIxoFnm7sJxMJg-WQudU_UBkPteJfSNY_mnx4jJSjeVFxFrBd-jctjxnFIiXbxYyCCP4FFL47sDmDcnXZGNrA_07ChIZfDCLsGOjW627EEL0EM9iweIqBUKJQ1_-f0/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="753" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLaukKSzxqQ2cCNNIxoFnm7sJxMJg-WQudU_UBkPteJfSNY_mnx4jJSjeVFxFrBd-jctjxnFIiXbxYyCCP4FFL47sDmDcnXZGNrA_07ChIZfDCLsGOjW627EEL0EM9iweIqBUKJQ1_-f0/" width="174" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">James Wingy Cox</div><p></p><p><br /></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-67776929610464023382020-11-07T05:11:00.005-05:002020-11-07T05:11:57.248-05:00Go Fish<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZ0SiQ4aPr8SeHU5SuPKPEU6CpPWOtjrFD1IzutJegdBMPaoNdUM43CVXMN2PufaiWKhChyU8UtzsYGD8I1Al_lpsjgKWjByX3D_rsYv5UJg2y2TkUBJzB1upwByKoM5Dss8Hco5lI-o/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="420" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFZ0SiQ4aPr8SeHU5SuPKPEU6CpPWOtjrFD1IzutJegdBMPaoNdUM43CVXMN2PufaiWKhChyU8UtzsYGD8I1Al_lpsjgKWjByX3D_rsYv5UJg2y2TkUBJzB1upwByKoM5Dss8Hco5lI-o/" width="312" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Twenty-four-year old Chicago hoodlum Richard Fishman was suspected in three murders, including that of another small timer named Herman Horwitz.</span></div><p></p><p>Around the beginning of November 1931 Fishman entered a cigar store and made his way to the gambling parlor located in the rear. Once inside, he stated to all there, "From now on, I'm the boss around here." To drive the point home he pulled out his pistol and fired three shots into the floor.</p><p>A week later on November 7, Fishman was in the parlor shooting dice with another guy when a "tall, heavy set man." walked in and did some shooting of his own. When the smoke cleared, a gambler was wounded but Fishman was dead. He was no longer boss around there.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZLT1DRCKjVUNELrWoRkr4iyWI6sMkQ_wm_kOuPGcZ4sfWWHd-FggPzvqoWqARoQphO2VV-it6cgBwk7oaNAXgqnArwylGGi03XmEjA885BJZZ9AWazl2agKzMCd5Xbcxqbcv2ScERYQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="156" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtZLT1DRCKjVUNELrWoRkr4iyWI6sMkQ_wm_kOuPGcZ4sfWWHd-FggPzvqoWqARoQphO2VV-it6cgBwk7oaNAXgqnArwylGGi03XmEjA885BJZZ9AWazl2agKzMCd5Xbcxqbcv2ScERYQ/" width="117" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Richard Fishman</div><p></p><p><br /></p><p><span style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-4171386886857598942020-11-06T07:50:00.000-05:002020-11-06T07:50:00.164-05:00Shot Heard Around The Underworld<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTSl-ypCOQm8EMh3OvMFilPBjjFUCQbnhUvO644ZPgUGHm7D4bXuA08GrHkaKKYNT6HxOQHc8LEie2vzmojcnNZ59KN2YcZGXXzonIkFoSFTOWwZLmgDmdl6Dw8ln6hZuMAnUDorWztM/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="290" data-original-width="546" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTSl-ypCOQm8EMh3OvMFilPBjjFUCQbnhUvO644ZPgUGHm7D4bXuA08GrHkaKKYNT6HxOQHc8LEie2vzmojcnNZ59KN2YcZGXXzonIkFoSFTOWwZLmgDmdl6Dw8ln6hZuMAnUDorWztM/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">November 6, 1933 saw the demise of Boston gangster John "Keeno" Keenan. The 29-year old gun-toter was the owner of the exclusive Club Chalet. He was on hand that night when fellow gangster Thomas Callahan showed up with a friend. Callahan was drunk when he arrived and began to insult women and make a general nuisance of himself. Being a classy joint, the bouncers evicted Callahan in a non-to-polite manner. </span></div><p></p><p>Some time passed and Callahan returned to the club, climbed the stairs to the entrance and was stopped at the iron gate that kept people like him out. He exchanged some words with the bouncer who, again, escorted him from the premises. Callahan refused to leave.</p><p>An employee of the club approached Keenan who was entertaining at the table and told him about Callahan and asked him if he couldn't do something about it. Keenan excused himself from the table and as he approached the gate, Callahan pulled out a pistol and opened fire. Mortally wounded, Keenan dropped to the floor. On the ground he drew his own gun and returned fire. During the shooting, the clubs patrons broke a window and headed down the fire escape.</p><p>Keenan's pals picked him up and took him to the hospital where he died the next day.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Afv_dxyb_HIcFEb0RfHPXKaRmLEaw4WnqFO9dw66e5PPex5USacDp-or5v-m4azyV4v9Al-YVJ-YEiZpS6GdfrTgk_hfK-y5yOxPaeATjrMWyDTZryKRpJzlo5O-MkI7ACVVf8BOh0g/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Afv_dxyb_HIcFEb0RfHPXKaRmLEaw4WnqFO9dw66e5PPex5USacDp-or5v-m4azyV4v9Al-YVJ-YEiZpS6GdfrTgk_hfK-y5yOxPaeATjrMWyDTZryKRpJzlo5O-MkI7ACVVf8BOh0g/" width="156" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">John Keeno Keenan</div><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-72776560508509027122020-11-05T06:35:00.001-05:002020-11-05T06:35:44.219-05:00We're So Sorry, Uncle Eddie<p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8TsptWGyWKsCg1CT-vnv48J6dpNP3APUGRhBflJT0o_o4NSYrB5T58rnyj8F_n_GbfJROaZdXmHBtO2QdeF_6gvrLkEVEIk5UuZRRsf6e2dr0JNtghWIoh_U0ANcukiZJifP5fRLIvWE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="536" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8TsptWGyWKsCg1CT-vnv48J6dpNP3APUGRhBflJT0o_o4NSYrB5T58rnyj8F_n_GbfJROaZdXmHBtO2QdeF_6gvrLkEVEIk5UuZRRsf6e2dr0JNtghWIoh_U0ANcukiZJifP5fRLIvWE/" width="244" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">It was on November 5, 1928 when Philadelphia gangster Handsome Eddie Rafferty pulled into his brother's gas station. His niece ran up to and jumped into the back seat of Eddie's car. Being a good uncle, Eddie produced some grapes and handed them to her and she began to snack away.</span></div><p></p><p>As Eddie sat behind the wheel conversing with his brother, a car drove by and men with shotguns and pistols opened fire. His brother hit the deck while Eddie, hit by some of the shots, slouched over the steering wheel. A second car drove by and once again lead was hurled at Eddie. More bullets plowed into the gangster's body and he slumped to the floor mortally wounded. A third car drove by and fired another round which peppered the walls of the filling station.</p><p>It was said that Eddie Raffery was associated with the Eddie Reagan gang whom were supposedly responsible for the murder of a gangster named Robert Haggerty and that Eddie was killed in retaliation. Another theory was that Rafferty had double-crossed another bootlegger named William "Hop" Reilly. The latter was picked up but denied that there was any trouble between him and Rafferty.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlG0lEVPMniMy62z4KEDed_5CDTrt9tNHbyFpPwW-jbq5pelVvl2w6GxkXoWVyel8oscpZEQpdtZEuxi-r3a3G2vvk0nr50jg93V5sH3K76gUhcWzzWJ01ltkmDP7B7iz0DJajYfj-syE/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="174" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlG0lEVPMniMy62z4KEDed_5CDTrt9tNHbyFpPwW-jbq5pelVvl2w6GxkXoWVyel8oscpZEQpdtZEuxi-r3a3G2vvk0nr50jg93V5sH3K76gUhcWzzWJ01ltkmDP7B7iz0DJajYfj-syE/" width="131" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Handsome Eddie Rafferty</div><p></p><p><span style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><br style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;" />Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-13322557671263434702020-11-03T08:05:00.000-05:002020-11-03T08:05:05.485-05:00Grape Ape<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYGn6jGBFti1SkpYpnaz2gzjr1T6LWxY2Ivu0PrAVmaYGaXjv2VoNL2JUZ1QafniZOwe0mezmtyhyphenhyphen0yMao8tZCpgLR3koZUriOyPrhKKHIm8C9I2g9TFbD-wq7i4G6o9ETsYBJVb3kx8/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="202" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDYGn6jGBFti1SkpYpnaz2gzjr1T6LWxY2Ivu0PrAVmaYGaXjv2VoNL2JUZ1QafniZOwe0mezmtyhyphenhyphen0yMao8tZCpgLR3koZUriOyPrhKKHIm8C9I2g9TFbD-wq7i4G6o9ETsYBJVb3kx8/" width="152" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">On November 3, 1930 Newark, New Jersey gangster Dominick "The Ape" Paselli, said to have ties to Newark mob boss Richard "the Boot" Boiardo, walked into Newark General Hospital with a slight scalp wound. He claimed that he had an accident but in reality, his head had been creased by a bullet; he was on the spot.</span></div><p></p><p>The staff patched him up and told him he could go. "No, if it's all right with you, I think I'll stay here a couple of days." He told them. He was given room thirty-three where he received two male visitors, around three o'clock that afternoon. After a short visit, they left.</p><p>A few minutes after six that evening, two men entered the hospital and, accounts vary, some say it was the same two men from earlier, others two different men, who made their way upstairs and asked where they could find room thirty-three.</p><p>What happened when the men found room thirty-three is also up for debate. One version has one of the guys guarding the door while the other fired, one has them both firing. What isn't up for debate is the result. Ape Paselli caught two bullets in the head and was dead.</p><p>Since some accounts stated that the killers were the visitors from earlier it was suggested that he was bumped off by his own gang. There was also a theory that he was killed by rivals for attempting to muscle in on the "grape racket". A necessary ingredient for wine makers. </p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJX2tnd7VR_pFbpqhg5JckyW-Ae_WRE2cgMM82HP6vJnGgFuklWZ6jx3-rfMn6Gs5GVVfPkQWIND3W5Fu03lMeD71GNHXtNQ2ASgqYDLTy7McGikLOG_syNMKYwblexTEblWWb3C12kIo/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="219" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJX2tnd7VR_pFbpqhg5JckyW-Ae_WRE2cgMM82HP6vJnGgFuklWZ6jx3-rfMn6Gs5GVVfPkQWIND3W5Fu03lMeD71GNHXtNQ2ASgqYDLTy7McGikLOG_syNMKYwblexTEblWWb3C12kIo/" width="164" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Dominick the Ape Paselli</div><p></p><p><span style="background-color: #141414; color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-50975696212869781442020-11-01T08:02:00.002-05:002020-11-01T08:02:19.002-05:00Wild Bill Tamed<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXK8aqJlHL6LrXi-DNjJpB-AxpqmIFtmWqzdOxWRaprweaTu-iXSKzi4RPhunlYspTMGRuUxjgevk2dTX3ANNKKZoCS6swccwdo-Rnzk38tg7J1TAlaygZefFotIkeYZl9LuOc-AE0rk/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="199" data-original-width="544" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXK8aqJlHL6LrXi-DNjJpB-AxpqmIFtmWqzdOxWRaprweaTu-iXSKzi4RPhunlYspTMGRuUxjgevk2dTX3ANNKKZoCS6swccwdo-Rnzk38tg7J1TAlaygZefFotIkeYZl9LuOc-AE0rk/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">In the wee hours of this day back in 1923, Brooklyn waterfront gangster Wild Bill Lovett was sent to his final reward whilst sleeping off a drunk in a river front shanty.</span></div><p></p><p>As head of Brooklyn's infamous White Hand gang, Wild Bill had numerous notches on his gun which resulted in numerous enemies that wanted him dead for any number of reasons. For a time it looked as though Bill may have dodged a gangland execution. The previous summer he had married Anna Lonergan, sister of his right hand man, Richard Peg Leg Lonergan. They moved from Brooklyn out to the New Jersey suburbs in an attempt to make a normal life for themselves. After a few months away Bill headed back to Brooklyn and went on a bender, hitting a number of his old haunts. </p><p>Word spread that Wild Bill was back in town and somebody or somebodies with an ax to grind trailed him to the stevedore shack where Bill passed out. Once Bill was deep in la-la land his enemies entered and bludgeoned and shot him to death. His killers were never identified.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVtGQDt3CRNn-vDp5S7EFhVOrxUHL-1StmE_FYvPMPYX6rwXMFWeFjImnHP0KVkiwU5__CTWBQRc2p9ULhoAlQQgtWrvL1i2FW441HEKF_6_s7VZcS7qB35hYmqKR3GWLuG3XRKzi4Fo/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="276" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVtGQDt3CRNn-vDp5S7EFhVOrxUHL-1StmE_FYvPMPYX6rwXMFWeFjImnHP0KVkiwU5__CTWBQRc2p9ULhoAlQQgtWrvL1i2FW441HEKF_6_s7VZcS7qB35hYmqKR3GWLuG3XRKzi4Fo/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Wild Bill Lovett</div><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-62727919908341932672020-10-28T07:02:00.001-04:002020-10-28T07:02:23.573-04:00Some People Can't Take No For An Answer<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP1rHeKWhWHxaMjX6-2y4wfNQoCyRSdpXe74nAvAq_w_clzq4ZfO8xWVFGYxSPwyl2E1VD_-0ZKSLrGTwFbsDqo3R6EzU2KaBJy5JnXzeaEO3RhbaLZXUTohGhmYG122g0ZEZ651iMto/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="312" data-original-width="546" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzP1rHeKWhWHxaMjX6-2y4wfNQoCyRSdpXe74nAvAq_w_clzq4ZfO8xWVFGYxSPwyl2E1VD_-0ZKSLrGTwFbsDqo3R6EzU2KaBJy5JnXzeaEO3RhbaLZXUTohGhmYG122g0ZEZ651iMto/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">Kansas City gangster Saul Weissman, known as Solly, was bumped off on October 28, 1930 after a run in with Charles Haughton, head of a racing wire service in K.C. Weissman, known also as "Cutcher Head Off" and "Slicey Solly" was a bootlegger and all around general racketeer. His nicknames also more than denotes </span><span style="text-align: left;">that he was a violent sort.</span></div><p></p><p>Originally from St. Louis, Weissman also had dealings in New York and Chicago. He first approached Haughton a few years earlier. He wanted the wire service provider to give him racing results before sending them out to bookies so he could place bets. Haughton declined.</p><p>Later Weissman approached Haughton again, Solly was getting into book making and wanted Haughton's services. Haughton declined. He didn't want to do business with him. This was followed by another request and refusal. "Well, you're going for a ride one of these days." Solly told sneered. This was followed by one more request by Weissman. Again he was refused. Weissman later left town, returning months later to face a charge for bootlegging.</p><p>Weissman returned to town to face a bootlegging charge, which he beat on October 28, after leaving the courtroom he headed for Haughton's wired service. </p><p>Haughton, who didn't even know that Weissman was back in town, entered his race wire service. Climbing the stairs he reached the outer room. Weissman was sitting in a chair and, when he saw Haughton, he started to curse him and stood up. Haughton's mind started to race, He drew a .45 and when he heard Weissman saying something about "shoot" while reaching for his pocket, he fired his gun. A bullet tore into Weissman's throat and he dropped to the floor while Haughton fled.</p><p>After hiding out for a bit, Haughton turned himself in but was found to have acted in self defense. Weissman went to the hospital where he died the next day. A search proved that Weissman was unarmed when shot. When discussing the shooting with the police, he told them that he told Haughton, "You don't have the guts to shoot - But he had."</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQdvJKz19pEzPSzv96wXkQKAXdpS3Qjrez3OCu00f4hUYKzcjXLL-SNLS-ZNQrYAPkOuk5K85mMlyKpF67MxYH5SYsgbqHN7j4U9o0Wwu0LTKi1KX53seT73EPATxoBzvOEfiL9xqdWg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="786" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfQdvJKz19pEzPSzv96wXkQKAXdpS3Qjrez3OCu00f4hUYKzcjXLL-SNLS-ZNQrYAPkOuk5K85mMlyKpF67MxYH5SYsgbqHN7j4U9o0Wwu0LTKi1KX53seT73EPATxoBzvOEfiL9xqdWg/" width="167" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Solly Weissman</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-15239944568515235322020-10-27T00:00:00.001-04:002020-10-27T00:00:03.209-04:00Ziggy Bites The Stardust<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT6Ta1F7etBjTGgQFIDW_BHVv5QZgUiDVzQK04QxK_EB23UpktXSrCGp8ux1vNtRi9Z0dXHvY5e3tMGbC1_iFXXbejTFeTgKnGCQfYAF2HYVcnF-bsC50RQQuUsL5fPJFIPj33LabaxNg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="546" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT6Ta1F7etBjTGgQFIDW_BHVv5QZgUiDVzQK04QxK_EB23UpktXSrCGp8ux1vNtRi9Z0dXHvY5e3tMGbC1_iFXXbejTFeTgKnGCQfYAF2HYVcnF-bsC50RQQuUsL5fPJFIPj33LabaxNg/" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">The wee hours of October 27, 1929 saw the demise of Detroit gangster John "Ziggy" Selbin. The Detroit News described him as a petty gangster and hanger-on of the Purple Gang with a list of arrests, mostly for robbery. He was also a</span><a href="https://deadgangster.blogspot.com/2020/07/purple-reign-is-over.html" style="text-align: left;"> confederate of Irving Shapiro</a><span style="text-align: left;">. Purple Gang historian Paul Kavieff fills informs us that Selbin robbed many nightclubs and blind pigs that belonged to gangsters in the area of Hamtramck. Since these gangsters bought their booze from the Purples, it was their responsibility to get rid of Selbin. Another thought is that as a pal of the late Irving Shapiro, Selbin was living on borrowed time anyways.</span></div><p></p><p>On Saturday night, October 26, Selbin told his parents, (the 22-year old youth still lived at home) that he was going to a Halloween party. At about half past midnight he was standing in a doorway speaking with a man who pulled out a .38 and fired five shots at the young gangster. Three of them found their mark and Selbin crumpled to the ground. The hoodlum expired while being loaded into a patrol wagon to be transported to the hospital.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht6XPQLBUSsuAij7vvlJeARsIKnhTEdpMgYHSn7_2jCrK7EXumLi60wdceHK55i673hA_sFApTfL3dYXuhhbbDpTA8xxRNztKmfdYVA_yUD1qyNtnmdK8JOQ0_J0elFOSFkjZKztE2c7E/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="920" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht6XPQLBUSsuAij7vvlJeARsIKnhTEdpMgYHSn7_2jCrK7EXumLi60wdceHK55i673hA_sFApTfL3dYXuhhbbDpTA8xxRNztKmfdYVA_yUD1qyNtnmdK8JOQ0_J0elFOSFkjZKztE2c7E/" width="142" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">John "Ziggy" Selbin</div><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5529357822375798869.post-67876520128284615432020-10-23T00:00:00.003-04:002020-10-23T00:00:02.306-04:00A Not So Pretty Death For Louis<p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWKCHIrglWdLJGRDtlAYFbLujcl9Ei6cxaW_rFKOPMD_rgDI-GC9dtopdsNmPPTRh1eah1Qlhv2orMaOcF78IYFv3x1UnrVzi2U15jmBvgEPOLKdsV94uRiYPqtE26IkyZng26VZ9EAM/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="486" data-original-width="546" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWKCHIrglWdLJGRDtlAYFbLujcl9Ei6cxaW_rFKOPMD_rgDI-GC9dtopdsNmPPTRh1eah1Qlhv2orMaOcF78IYFv3x1UnrVzi2U15jmBvgEPOLKdsV94uRiYPqtE26IkyZng26VZ9EAM/" width="270" /></a> </div><p></p><p><a href="https://deadgangster.blogspot.com/2020/09/what-is-law-no-spill-blood.html">About a month after his brother Joseph was gunned down</a> in a Brownsville garage, racketeer Louis "Pretty" Amberg met a grisly fate on October 23, 1935. Louis operated on Manhattan's lower eastside and was living in a mid town hotel under an assumed name.</p><p>It appears that the Syndicate was waiting to see how Pretty reacted to his brother's murder before deciding on a course of action. When Pretty let it be known that he would be seeking revenge on those who orchestrated his brother's murder, it was deemed that Pretty should join Joseph in the great beyond.</p><p>A Lepke mobster named Mendy Weiss lured Pretty to a friend's bar just over the Manhattan bridge in Brooklyn. The proprietor invited the men into his office for a drink. Instead of a libation, two of Mendy's gorillas were waiting for Pretty and immediately started hacking him with cleavers.</p><p>Once Pretty was done for, his body was placed in an automobile. A burlap sack was placed over his head and he and the car were doused in gasoline and put to the match.</p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7vaTE8ZJH2549iMGvbaCDXcyr0cbTpeZqZhQBdMt4wZVcAU6LVFkzqWez31mVIxBpry-4qZnlqoQijM6yh67iFnqTu5RttJruZhAvQCg51F5Ts9YC0idP29mvgyjpcvfoELBZyQa-rxA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="244" data-original-width="207" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7vaTE8ZJH2549iMGvbaCDXcyr0cbTpeZqZhQBdMt4wZVcAU6LVFkzqWez31mVIxBpry-4qZnlqoQijM6yh67iFnqTu5RttJruZhAvQCg51F5Ts9YC0idP29mvgyjpcvfoELBZyQa-rxA/" width="204" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Louis "Pretty" Amberg</div><p></p>Patrick Downeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01902465307670970335noreply@blogger.com0