Today's Bang Bang

Don't eat the red snow

Eighty-five years ago this morning an employee of a Brooklyn lumber yard showed up for work and found a trail of blood in the yard. His curiosity peeked, he followed said trail which led to a pile of snow. Digging he found one James Tinorello who had been shot three times in the back of the head. Police said that Tinorello, who was 27 and had six arrest under his belt, was involved in a liquor syndicate that operated in Brooklyn and Queens.

A well armed coward killed Mr. Howard

T'was in Kansas City on this date back in 1931, yes it was when one Jimmy Howard, said to be a gangster, was sitting all by his lonesome in a taxi office. As Howard sat there thinking Howard thoughts a sedan pulled up front and stopped. Out stepped a feller with a Chicago make that KC typewiter, you know a chopper, a Tommy gun, a Thompson machine gun is what I'm getting at, strapped to his shoulder.

Guess what happened next?

If you said, the feller with the chopper politely asked for a cab. You are correct...provided that by "asked for a cab" you mean he fired fourteen shots through the window killing Mr. Howard and then jumped back into the car and sped away.

Pharaoh's curse

On this date in 1929 twenty-six year old James Rocco was hanging out with four other guys at a joint in Queens known as the Pharaoh Social Club. While the five men were discussing whatever it was that men inside the Pharaoh Social Club discussed, three other fellows entered and asked if any of them knew the address of a guy named James Marino. None of the men had heard of Marino so the trio left. The question about Marino was just a ruse however because the men were just checking to see if Rocco was on the premises. Once they knew their target was inside each man drew a gun and the trio re-entered the club with guns-a-blazing in Herr Rocco's direction. Rocco dropped dead with three bullets in him as the gunmen ran out to a waiting car and sped off.

Seven can be an unlucky number

On this date back in 1929 Chicago gangster Pete Locasto climbed into a sedan with his pals Sam De Salvo and Mike Medeira. Sam was driving and when the car came to the intersection of Harlem Avenue and Twenty-Second Street, Mike's right arm "dropped down in a friendly gesture". Suddenly, in an unfriendly gesture, Mike began to pump bullet after bullet (seven to be exact) into his pal. Pete caught lead in the face, neck and body.

Sam drove to a less populated area and pulled over. There he and Mike grabbed Pete and tossed him into ditch that ran along the road and went about their way. A short time later a passing car saw Pete and stopped. The drive investigated and found the gangster still breathing. He loaded Pete into his car and took him to the hospital where the wounded gangster had no qualms with filling in the whos, wheres and whys of the shooting in between bouts of unconsciousness.  Pete managed to linger on for about eleven days before finally cashing in on February 22.

Black Hand claims one of their own

One hundred and eight years ago today in New York City thirty-five year old Felipo Randazzo locked the door to his butcher shop, located at 177 Christie Street, and turned to begin his walk home. the time was 11:20p.m. (long hours back then) After a couple of steps a large caliber bullet fired from a powerful rifle plowed through his heart, went out his back, passed through the shop door and hit a column inside before coming to a rest on the floor.

At first it was thought that he was an innocent victim of the Black Hand until a search of his shop turned up a dynamite cartridge of the type used in some recent Black Hand explosions.

The NYPD's famous Mafia fighting cop Lt. Petrosino put his entire sixteen man Italian Squad on the case and soon they learned that Randazzo was indeed a member of the Black Hand. He had come over from Palermo three years previously and worked as a plasterer before hooking up with a nefarious band of extortionist. With his profits he was able to open his butcher shop three months before being shot down.

During the investigation the Italian Squad learned through one of Randazzo's friends that the dead man had had a falling out with some of the members of his gang and he [Randazzo] intended to supply the police with information that would have resulted in their arrests but his confederates to take care of him first.

Sunday nights are alright for fighting

Ninety-four years ago tonight, a Sunday, a large group of guys and dolls were lining the stairwell of a lower eastside building waiting to get into the night club that occupied the third floor. As the band was preparing to play a couple of shots rang out and the throng of people ran out into the streets. One man, Michael Dimesci, ran across the street and dropped dead with a bullet in his heart.

Frankie Uale

The police sent officers to all the hospitals in the area to see if anyone else showed up. Within the hour Brooklyn mobster Frankie Uale stumbled into one with a bullet wound to the lung. Uale said he just happened to be walking by the club when the shooting took place and had no idea what it was about. Police later asserted that they believed the Brooklyn Mafioso was the intended target and that Dimesci may have been an innocent bystander.