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
Sunday, May 14, 2017
Saturday, May 13, 2017
The King is Un-Crowned
On
the morning of May 12, 1928 sixty-year old Gaetano Acci-who was known to Chicago police by some other names, including; “the Wolf: ,“King of the Blackmailers” and
“The Muscler"-was seen leaving his home at 1066 Polk Street and getting into a sedan
with four other men.
Later that day he and his cohorts were spotted miles away in the town of Rockford, Illinois. The following morning, eighty-nine years ago today, a motorist traveling along a quiet stretch of road outside the town of Harvard, Illinois, discovered Acci's body and alerted authorities. Turns out that the "King of the Blackmailers" had extorted four bullets from someone's gun. Two went to his head, and two to his body.
Acci was known to prey on Italian residents of Chicago's west side. On his corpse were found six letters addressed to different people demanding money. According to police, a week prior to his death, they had set a trap for him and planned to kill him when he stopped to pick up a faux payment package, but he never showed up. Subsequently the underworld save them the trouble.
Later that day he and his cohorts were spotted miles away in the town of Rockford, Illinois. The following morning, eighty-nine years ago today, a motorist traveling along a quiet stretch of road outside the town of Harvard, Illinois, discovered Acci's body and alerted authorities. Turns out that the "King of the Blackmailers" had extorted four bullets from someone's gun. Two went to his head, and two to his body.
Acci was known to prey on Italian residents of Chicago's west side. On his corpse were found six letters addressed to different people demanding money. According to police, a week prior to his death, they had set a trap for him and planned to kill him when he stopped to pick up a faux payment package, but he never showed up. Subsequently the underworld save them the trouble.
Friday, May 12, 2017
Sam Hunt Loses a Pal
On this date back in 1931, somebody(ies), for some reason, fired bullets into Hyter’s head and chest. His body
was then driven out to an area called “Jaranowski’s woods” and dumped. While
searching his body, police found a number of cards listing amounts of gallons
so figured that Hyter was still actively engaged in bootlegging.
Harry Hyter
Thursday, May 11, 2017
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
A First Time for Everything
As Piazza sat in his car listening to the gas pump ding, I like to imagine him thinking to himself, "Gee wiz, there has never been a gangster bumped off with a Tommy gun in all of Westmoreland County. Being a bootlegger here sure beats doing it in Chicago."
Obviously we don't know what Piazza was thinking at the time but while he was thinking whatever it was that he thought, a large touring sedan pulled into the station and parked next to him with the back window curtains closed. After it came to a stop the curtains parted and the muzzle of a Thompson machine-gun, said to be the first ever used in Westmoreland County, came forth. As the station attendant continued to pump petrol into Piazza's car,the gunman pumped a number of rounds into Piazza.
Mission completed, the sedan pulled away as Piazza slumped to the floor of his car. An ambulance was called and the bootlegger was rushed to the hospital where he died later in the day.
Tuesday, May 9, 2017
Pulpy Goodness
I need to read this cover story to find out if the welder kidnapped the woman in his full garb and somehow made his way back to the structure without being caught, or did he change into his welding gear after he got her back? And I'd also like to know the back story on how the hero doesn't feel pain. He's getting torched, yet, judging by his look, he just got cut off in traffic. I think a good title for this story would be Murder on the Girder
How about you? What would you title it?
How about you? What would you title it?
Monday, May 8, 2017
It's the Big Sleep for the Head of the Pillow Gang
Carmelo Fresina was a St. Louis gang leader involved in
bootlegging and extortion. He was looking at some bootlegging trials and told his wife, prior
to leaving their house at 9 p.m. on the night of May 7, 1931, that he
was going away for a few days to “fix those liquor cases against me.” Thirteen
hours later an Illinois State Highway patrolman found him reposing in the
tonneau of his car.
At some point during the night of May 7 or the early morning of
May 8, Fresina was sitting in the front seat of his car when somebody in the
rear fired two bullets into his head. In no condition to drive himself to his final
resting spot, Fresina was removed to the floor of the back seat and his
assassin(s) drove the car to Edwardsville, Illinois and left it on the side of a road.
Carmelo Fresina
A few years previously he and a few cohorts were involved in a bit of
underworld chicanery that resulted in shooting. One of the bullets
pierced
Fresina’s posterior (though painful, he fared better than his
confederates who
ended up dead) and since that time, it was said, that wherever he went
he carried a pillow with him to sit on. As a result, the local police
referred to
his mob as the Pillow Gang.
PS.
The Pillow Gang, which operated out of St. Louis and was headed by
Fresina, should not be confused with the “My Pillow Gang” currently operating
out of Minnesota. Headed by this guy:
Not Carmelo Fresina
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