Your daily dose of old world gangsters who were rubbed out doing what they loved most. Plus some other fun stuff.

"He must have done something. They don't kill you for nothing." - Chicago Gangster Ted Newberry. Rubbed out January 7, 1933
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Gangsters on a Bender
Eighty–eight years ago today somebody(ies) picked up Harry Bender at the hotel he
was living in and an hour later somebody(ies) dumped Harry in an empty lot in Queens with
two bullets in his body and one in his head. Miraculously he was still
conscious when taken to the hospital but refused to tell the police anything.
Even when his wife knelt at his bedside and begged him to tell the cops
who shot him he responded by saying, "Never mind, that will be taken care
of." Was it "taken care of"? Who knows, but there is no shortage of dead guys in suits so if you want to believe so I ain't gonna talk you out of it.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Pierced ear
Police called twenty-year old Leon Goldstein a "small time racketeer".
His domain was the East New York section of Brooklyn where he extorted
money from brothels, ran some smaller rackets and took part in a number
of shootings. Since he was such a braggart his nickname around his
neighborhood was "Ear bender" and he often boasted that he would kill
anyone for $50. Speaking of ears Leon caught a bullet behind his
left one eighty-two years ago today and was dumped in Queens. He also
took one to the chest. Police suspected that the murder was revenge for
the killing of another hoodlum from the previous fall.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Yegg heads
Now I did a few things during my college years that in retrospect
probably weren’t to smart. I suspect most of us have but getting shot in
the head by cop because of my own stupid actions wasn’t one of them.
Anyone else who can say that please step forward... Not so fast Edgar
Cook.
On this date way back in aught eight (of the previous century that is) eighteen year old Edgar Cook and his pal, twenty-one year old Howard Cole, both students of Columbia University decided that some collegiate nonsense was in order. So instead of getting drunk and paddling each others asses or going on a panty raid they figured it would be funsies to break into a small sundries booth that sold soda, tobacco and candy located at 123rd Street and Riverside Drive.
So there the brainiacs were trying to break into this kiosk when a cop, officer Hurton, shows up. They see him and run off. Hurton fires a shot into the air and Cole freezes. Hearing the shot another cop runs up and grabs Cole while Hurton chases Cook. Hurton fires another warning shot. College boy continues to run. Hurton ends both the chase and Cook’s semester by drilling him in the back of the head with a third and final shot.
“It’s my fault,” Cook admitted while laying in his own blood. “I was a blamed fool to run.”
Yes you were Cook. As any hoodlum worth his salt would have told you. Cops back then would just as well shoot you as chase you.
On this date way back in aught eight (of the previous century that is) eighteen year old Edgar Cook and his pal, twenty-one year old Howard Cole, both students of Columbia University decided that some collegiate nonsense was in order. So instead of getting drunk and paddling each others asses or going on a panty raid they figured it would be funsies to break into a small sundries booth that sold soda, tobacco and candy located at 123rd Street and Riverside Drive.
So there the brainiacs were trying to break into this kiosk when a cop, officer Hurton, shows up. They see him and run off. Hurton fires a shot into the air and Cole freezes. Hearing the shot another cop runs up and grabs Cole while Hurton chases Cook. Hurton fires another warning shot. College boy continues to run. Hurton ends both the chase and Cook’s semester by drilling him in the back of the head with a third and final shot.
“It’s my fault,” Cook admitted while laying in his own blood. “I was a blamed fool to run.”
Yes you were Cook. As any hoodlum worth his salt would have told you. Cops back then would just as well shoot you as chase you.
Monday, May 19, 2014
Surprise!
At 4:30 am on this date in 1930, Patrolman Henry Steger was walking his beat in the Greenpoint section of Brooklyn. He approached the
police box at Gardner and Meeker Avenues to report in to his station and there waiting for him, one on top of the other, were the
bodies of 26-year old Anthony Calderone and 29-year old Salvatore
Tavolino. At first he thought they were
victims of a hit and run but his flashlight soon showed the bullet holes
in their backs and necks. There was no blood at the scene and both men
were from Manhattan so police determined that they had been killed in
the city and brought over to Brooklyn to be dumped. At some point prior
to his murder Calderone had done some shooting himself because a gun
was found on his person with three shots missing. One reason for the
shooting may have been revenge. Calderone and Tavolino were involved
with six other men in a robbery and both men were released while the
others were convicted so they may have been put on the spot for possibly
squealing
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Twisting the night away
Has it been 106 years already? Well, well time does fly, anyways as it turns out, on this evening back in '08 (1900 and that is) 'Ol Kid Twist Zweifach himself went out to Coney Island for opening day
with his pal Cyclone Louie. In tow were a couple of dames who worked as
singers in the Coney Island resorts. The girl with Kid Twist was the
former twist for an Italian hood named Louie the Lump. To make a
short story shorter Louie caught up with Kid Twist on the boardwalk and
perforated both him and Cyclone Louie but good. If memory serves, once the Kid and Louie got their shares of lead they stumbled into a hotel's grand re-opening day flower display and bunting and expired from this life. I guess they didn't see the sign in the lobby that read: No Spitting, No Cursing, No Getting Killed.
Monday, May 12, 2014
Two barrels for a two timer
Steve Spano was thirty-one years old, lived with his wife, three kids
and his mother and was known as a leader of Italian voters. While
walking down the street on this date in 1921 Spano was cut down by a
blast from a sawed off double barrel shotgun. Two men ran from the
building where the shots came from and there police found the weapon.
While searching Spano's affects the police came across a picture of a woman in his pocket watch but it was not Mrs. Spano. When confronted with the photo Mrs. Spano, who said she was unaware that her husband carried around another woman's picture, said, "There was no other woman. No, no. Steve was a good man. We were married fifteen years. We were happy oh, so happy."
While searching Spano's affects the police came across a picture of a woman in his pocket watch but it was not Mrs. Spano. When confronted with the photo Mrs. Spano, who said she was unaware that her husband carried around another woman's picture, said, "There was no other woman. No, no. Steve was a good man. We were married fifteen years. We were happy oh, so happy."
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