Friday already?

Pulpy goodness

It has long been rumored in Hollywood that the original Moe from the Three Stooges was stabbed to death in the early 1930s. But on the heals of the William Desmond Taylor murder, the Paul Bern suicide (or was it murder?) & Fatty Arbuckle trial tinsel town just couldn't afford another scandal so covered up the whole ghastly affair. I think somebody was trying to say something with this pulp however.

An anagram for for Moosehide is Moe he di so.  Now that along with the picture the author is obviously telling us, "Moe, he died like so." The answers are out there people, we just have to look for them. If not for us, let's do it for Moe.

Needed eyes in the back of his head

Twenty-five year old Joseph Amastasi was well known in Harlem’s Little Italy, as a“liberal spender whose source of income was unknown”. At 11:00pm, eighty-three years ago tonight, two employees of a coal company heard a couple of shots and went to investigate. They found Amastasi dead with two bullets in his back. Since his source of deep pockets was a mystery its impossible to say for sure what Amastasi was involved in but apparently it involved guys who had no qualms about killing.

Meet John Doe

Four score and four year ago this very day three fellers sat in a sedan. Passing pedestrians paid them no mind until three shots rang out then all eyes turned to the car as two men jumped out and high tailed it away. Left inside was a man with two bullets in his person.

 Cops arrived on the scene and found that the man was still alive. He was rushed to the hospital where he gave the name John Doe. He said no more and passed out of this life. Since he refused to talk, the police were forced to turn to his finger prints. Never ones to withstand a police interrogation, the prints had absolutely no trouble divulging his true identity.


According to the ink stained digits the deceased was forty year old Nate Gordon, a life long criminal with a record spanning back to 1905. During his midnight rambler phase he was arrested for grand larceny and sent to Elmira. Periodic arrest and prison terms followed over the following quarter century.

It's dangerous outside, why don't you kids stay in the building and play.

Eighty-two years ago today in Harlem a group of children came face to face with gangland when they encountered twenty-four year old Anthony Sancione in the hall way of a tenement with two bullets in his head. The kids fetched a policeman who found that Anthony was still alive. An ambulance was called but the wounded man died en-route to the hospital. His record showed that he had been arrested numerous times but never convicted.

Early gunmen get the Doyle

Eighty-two years ago this morning the life and times of one John Doyle came to an abrupt end. Known as both Jocko Doyle and Jackie Doyle, he was a career criminal with fourteen arrests and three convictions on his record. The convictions were for burglary and assault, with intent to kill, but it was for moving into the drug trade that police believe he was put on the spot.

At the time of his death Doyle was out on bail following an arrest in Philadelphia for a hold up. It was also in the City of Brotherly Love, nine years previous, that Doyle and a partner named “Big Frank” Watkins were sought for a gangland murder. Police traced them to a house on the west side and a shoot out ensued. Watkins was killed and Doyle was arrested but later cleared of the killing. Philly police also said that Doyle was active in South Jersey as a beer runner.

The end came at 3:00 am the morning when two gunmen entered the restaurant where Doyle was eating and shot him seven times. Other then saying that they thought Doyle was stealing drug customers from established dealers the police didn’t elaborate on their theory as to why he was killed or who killed him.

Paranoia will destroy ya.

And it goes like this, 'ere it goes-

Three nefarious fellas, Thomas Abbruzzo, Mathew Casselli and Thomas Costello, robbed a Fourth Avenue saloon and then fled to Boston with the loot. While in Bean Town some bad blood arose between Abbruzzo and Costello and the former killed the latter in front of Casselli. Minus their Irish partner the two Italian hoods returned to New York.

Once they were back in New York however, Abbruzzo started to worry about his partner. Would he be able to keep his mouth shut about that little piece of business back in Boston? After pondering it for a while Abbruzzo decided that the best way to keep Casselli quiet was to silence him for good. So, to that end, ninety-six years ago today he lured his partner in crime to a room in mid-town Manhattan and slit his throat. Abbruzzo was subsequently arrested and found guilty, not for the murder of Costello for which he was worried about, but for the slaying of Casselli which was supposed to guarantee his safety.

Friday already?

Pulpy goodness

One thing modern archaeologist don't have to worry about. Gun wielding, albeit well dressed, gangsters and cursed pharoahs who shoot things from their finger tips.* If you look in the back you'll see our old friend the Phantom Detective. Remember him? He likes to hangout in graveyards and watch people get whacked without trying to help. Apparently same goes for museums. 

* This is an assumption. If you are an archaeologist and do run into this type of thing please let us know.

Miami Vice

One hundred and five years ago today Pasquale Miami, said to be a “barber”, was walking down the street when a man stepped out of a doorway and shot him. A beat cop who was nearby gave chase but the gunman ran into a tenement and escaped over the roof tops.
Miami was rushed to Bellevue Hospital where he died half an hour later. His body was identified by his friend Nicola Giaroffa who stated that the two men had been in the States for three years and that Miami had been involved in an Italian feud for the six months leading up to his death.

Lt. Petrosino

After viewing the body, America's first mafia busting cop, Lt. Petrosino of the NYPD Italian Squad stated that Miami (which wasn’t his real name. His real name wasn’t given) was one of the leading Black Hand agents in the city. Police felt this was bore out when twenty-five men came to the morgue to view the dead man and almost half of them raised their hands and vowed to avenge his murder.

Rub a dub dub, a dead man in a tub

There used to be a saloon in the Bowery known as the “Tub of Blood”. Guess what happened there one hundred years ago tonight? Go ahead guess...alright I'll tell ya. Five men entered and blew past the bartender and two women patrons (ah to meet a gal who would hang out at the T.O.B.) and entered the rear room. A moment later the women and bartender heard one of the men yell, “You’re a squealer! You sent him to Dannemora! (a prison in upstate NY)” the yelling was followed by a series of shots. The shots in turn were followed by the quick exit of four of the five men who entered.

The police were summoned and in the back room they found the body of Thomas Murphy. There was also a trail of blood leading out of the saloon so police figured some one else had been injured in the shooting. A short time after the killing a man named Michael Matera walked into the Mulberry Street Police station and said that he had been shot in the leg while exiting the subway but the police decided that he was probably the wounded guy who made a separate exit and held him for the Murphy slaying.

Today's special, murder.

According to the New York Daily News Giuseppi Parrino, who was gunned down 77-years ago today, was involved in “The tile racket”, what exactly the tile racket was I don't know, one would have to assume a contractor/construction something or other. Mob boss Joe Bonanno tells us that he was a victim of the Castellemmarese War.

The details of the killing are thus, three “hard faced men” entered a restaurant called Del Pezzo and took a table. A half hour later Joe Parrino arrived and sat two tables away from the trio. At approximately 6:00pm, while Parrino was dining alone, one of the three “hard faced men” began insulting him and an argument broke out. One of the trio broke up the fight and Parrino went back to his meal. Moments later the peace-maker pulled out a .32 and began firing at the gangster.

The first shot went wild but as Parrino got up to defend himself, the second shot caught him between the eyes. Parrino dropped to the floor and the gunman deposited two more shots into the back of his head. Mission accomplished the killer tossed the gun to the floor and he and his confederates calmly walked out.
Parrino’s brother Sasa was also a victim of the war having been murdered the previous May 30, in Detroit with fellow gangster Gaspar Milazzo. It was after these two murders, Bonanno tells us, that the Castellemmarese gangs fell into line with Maranzano

A busy day in old New York

The bullets were flying on this date back in 1915. In Manhattan four members of either the Gophers or Hudson Dusters waited outside of the Miner’s Eighth Avenue Theatre for a guy named Martin Sullivan. See, they wanted to kill Martin. Why? Who knows but when Martin exited, with approximately two hundred other people, the gunmen opened fire hitting their target in the hip and in the thigh. The gunmen took off running but there was a couple of cops nearby who managed to captured two of them (Wm. MacNamara age 16 & Henry Thompson, 17) after a running gunfight. Sullivan was taken to Bellevue Hospital but did not comment on the shooting.

Meanwhile in Brooklyn

There was another shoot out when members of the White Hand gang ambushed members of the Never Come Home Boys. The latter gang was holding a dance and when members, Joseph Martini, James McNealy and Thomas Ryan left the hall, a half dozen White Handers opened fire on them. The three Never Come Home Boys fought back but were all wounded, the New York Herald stated that Ryan would probably die.

It wasn't all Irish that day.

Brooklyn was also the scene of the one sure murder. Frank Solli came walking up to his house when two men opened fire on him. One of the killers was in front of him and used a pistol while the other man came up from behind with a shotgun. Sadly, Solli’s daughter was watching from a window when her father was cut down.

Friday already?

Pulpy goodness

Ladies and Gents, D.B. Cooper's grandpa.

Angie folds

Known as “Angie the controller” twenty-nine year old Angelo Pezzulo worked in the policy racket as a foreman over a staff of number runners and was described by the police as a “petty operator”. Chances are, since Angelo was operating in the Bronx/Harlem territory, he was either working for Dutch Schultz or Ciro Terranova and ripped them off or, if a renegade was visited a few times by ambassadors of the Dutchman and/or Terranova and told that if he knew what was good for him he would turn over his policy business or pay for protection. Either way it appears that Pezzulo didn’t know what was good for him and paid the ultimate price.

The end for “Angie” came on this date back in 1934 in the rear of his brother Fred's candy store. Just before 6:00 am Angelo, brothers Fred and Dominick and two other men were playing their last hand of an all night poker game when two men, one of whom had a gun, entered. “Line up and face the wall.” barked the gunman.  Assuming it was a run of the mill robbery the men dropped their cards and did as they were told. After the men put their noses to the wall the gunman walked the line pulling back each head to inspect the face. When he got to Angelo he fired into the back of his head and his back. When Pezzulo hit the floor the gunman took another look at him, then, satisfied with his work, placed the gun in his pocket and he and his partner walked out.

Gangs of New York

On this date in 1918 Police of the Upper Westside caught wind that there was going to be a battle fought between two mid-town gangs- The West Side Butchers and the San Juan Hill gang. In an attempt to nip the fight in the bud police searched the local saloons for gang members who may have been carrying guns but no arrest were made. Still the violence came. Despite police efforts, the two gangs clashed and a gunfight ensued. when the smoke cleared two gang members William Reddington and Nicholas Moore lay dead in the street.

Loose lips sink snitch

One hundred years ago today Joseph Randazzo was found in an east side saloon with twenty-two stab wounds. Coincidentally (or not) Mr. Randazzo had supplied the police with some information regarding a couple of drug dealers. Police raided the apartment of James Di Lorenzo, said to be the city's top cocaine dealer, and arrested both him and his brother in-law John Gravino, who had a history of selling opium. The former was released on bail. Which leads us back to the east side saloon and twenty-two stab wounds. Police did not feel that it was a coincidence.

Friday already?

Pulpy goodness

Need to bump a guy? Here's a swell yet little used method. The old phone gun. Looks like a phone, rings like a phone but when you answer it and put it to your ear - BANG!

It's fool proof. In fact you can sit on the fire escape in full view and watch your victim off himself without worrying about being seen.

Frankie Goes To City Morgue

Frank Shaeffer (also known as Grey) and Dave Bacharach were standing near a Westside bar at 2:00am on this date back in 1934 when a taxi-cab brimming with gunmen pulled up and opened fire. Wanting to continue this mortal life, Frank and Dave took off running.

Bystanders dove to the ground and jumped into doorways as the cab followed Frank and Dave
with the gunmen still blazing away. After a brief chase some bullets came to rest in Frank and he pitched forward on the sidewalk and lay still while Dave kept running. With Shaeffer down the taxi took off and disappeared into the Broadway traffic.

When the coast was clear people came out of their hiding spots and crowds began to pour out of the nearby restaurants, nightclubs and other buildings. They gathered around Shaeffer and rolled him over. It appeared to them that he fell down and cut his head and was unconscious. An ambulance was called and the doctor who arrived with it informed them that what they thought was a cut was actually a bullet wound and that the man was in fact dead. Further examination showed that he had been hit under the left armpit as well.

Meanwhile Dave, who had took a superficial wound to the chest walked to the hospital for treatment. The police were notified and took the wounded man into custody and at first he said that he was a Bronx real estate man and he didn't even know that he’d been shot until he undid his coat to get a nickel for a newspaper and found blood. After more questioning however, he broke down, identified himself then clammed up.

What Shaeffer was involved with at the end is unknown but when killed he was “shabbily dressed” and only had a few dollars on him. He had a record of fourteen arrests and five convictions and was known to the police as a forger and mail thief who in 1921 was sentenced to the Atlanta Penitentiary. In 1923 he gained a bit of notoriety when he managed to escape from there with the infamous robber Gerald Chapman.

Reading is fundamental

Psst, hey Mac,
Need some new DGIS to read up on? Then take a look at what I'm about to show you...

It's everything you wanted to know about the upstate New York mafia. You can't lose. Just click the pic.   The link will lead you to a cool site promoting a great book. Tell them Gyp sent you, you'll get right in. Click on it, go ahead, it's on the up and up I swears.

Another Saturday night. What to do...

Were this a Saturday in the 1880's and you were in NYC and a friend invited you "to hunt the elephant"; it would not involve guns and safaris. Well safaris anyways. " Hunting the elephant" was slang for going to the "bad" parts of town, the lower eastside, the Bowery, Chinatown etc. to take part in the fun, sinful decadence that every other building seemed to offer. Drinking, gambling, carousing, can-can dances and all that other stuff we're not supposed to want to do.

Friday already?

Pulpy goodness

Here is another case of; What the Rory Calhoun is going on here? We have a Depression era Gopher/Isaac aboard the Not-so-Lovable Boat shooting what appears to be a motorcycle cop and whom we can only assume is his partner falling out of a deck chair after dropping a sawed off shotgun. I suppose that somewhere between the covers is the reason for illegally armed motorcycle cops to be aboard some ship with a killer yeoman purser/ bartender but if anyone out there cares to venture a guess we are all ears.

Not a happy new year for Larry Fay

1933 lasted all of twenty and a half hours for Larry Fay, who was designated New York City's Public Enemy #3, I think it was #3, let me check my book Gangster City...yes there it is pg. 258 Public Enemy #3. Anyways by the end of 1932 Larry was part owner in a night club called the Casa Blanca (he seemed to have a thing for Spanish names, a previous club was called the El Fay) Like a lot of business' during the Depression the Casa Blanca saw some financial hardships and on New Year's Eve Fay informed the staff that they would be receiving a 30% pay cut (Happy New Year!). This didn't sit well with one of the club's doormen who spent the first day of 1933 drinking and being angry. After stewing for a number of hours the doorman did what a number of angry Americans do when they are mad at their employer. He returned that evening with a gun. He confronted Fay in the lobby of the club and demanded some money. Fay, a reported nice guy and easy touch, was going to comply but before he had a chance to do so, Mr. Drunk Angry Guy pulled his pistol and shot his boss a number of times killing him.

You can read more about Larry Fay in Gangster City: History of the New York Underworld 1900-1935... in ebook form anyways.