Why New York’s Mob Mythology Endures
Anyone ever see a film called Goodfellas? I grew up and live in Ozone Park and around there the mafia was part of your life in a way. The notorious Bergen Hunt and Fish club was right next to my mothers bank on 101 ave. She&#x27;d go to the drive through after picking us up after school and many times you could catch John Gotti walking and chatting with an associate closely followed by two large goons. He&#x27;d throw a big 4th of July block party right there on 101 in front of Bergen and my parents took us there a few times. hot dogs, hamburgers, rides and fireworks. Their presence also kept away the &quot;competition&quot; giving people the notion that they protected the neighbourhood. The fact was everyone was so scared of them that no one would dare mess around on their turf.<p>You didn&#x27;t mention them. I remember eating with my parents at my favourite Italian restaurant as a kid, Cartuccios on 101ave just down the road from Bergen. Well I was being the usual rambunctious child and due to all the people falling off buildings in Manhattan the name John Gotti was in the news a lot. So I must have heard it and for some reason blurted out &quot;John Gotti!&quot;. The friggin restaurant goes silent record scratch style. My mother grabbed me and pulls me towards her and firmly whispers in my ear &quot;Don&#x27;t ever say that name out loud.&quot; I was actually given a talking to after we left on how he was a bad man who hurt people and lives near us.<p>There were always incidents and whispers of mob activity. The woman who owned the pharmacy two blocks from us was found shot in the head in the trunk of a burnt out car. She owed money. My uncles friend, an amateur boxer, drifter, gambler and alcoholic was found bludgeoned, wrapped up in a rug in a dumpster. Supposedly he stole or owed a lot of money and maybe worked for them. The first blockbuster in the area wound up burning down mysteriously while under construction. Twice. And a whole load of other crap I forget.<p>Not long ago I used to go to the local dive where just down the block above the glass shop was a &quot;club&quot;. Now the gentlemen at said club would sometimes stop by and grab a drink. You knew who they were. Older, Italian, wearing nice designer clothes and shades. They&#x27;d come in, walk to the end of the bar and people would know to move. They&#x27;re long gone now. But that place was and still is full of old neighbourhood goons and whatnot. One night I stopped in after work on a Tuesday and there&#x27;s the bartender and another well dressed gentleman having a private conversation about Ronnie one arm. I felt unwelcome, finished my beer and left. Last year I was hanging out in the yard and and some old crew comes in, real goomba goons. This annoying jackass decides to drunkenly joke around with one of said goons. I knew shit was going down so I go back in and within seconds there were screams and the jackass comes running for his life through the bar covered in blood with two big goons after him. A guy picks up the phone to call the cops and the two other goons grab and start beating him up. I got the fuck outta there.<p>And just this past weekend I sat in my yard with two friends one of which invited a real neighbourhood character over, think Kramer from Seinfeld but a total degenerate and pill&#x2F;coke head. Anyway he knows all of the other degenerates and told me that the nice man who lived next door to us was deep in the mob and supposedly a killer. His son was a cop. We just knew him as a nice guy who owned an auto wrecking, glass and radiator shop. He then tells me my other neighbour was also involved with a crew who went away for 15+ years and was handed their auto business. He wound up marrying my cousin. But that guy, you knew he was up to no good. And just a few years back Gotti&#x27;s grandson was arrested for selling pills out of a tattoo shop just down the street. They&#x27;re still around but just remnants.<p>And through the old family business I&#x27;ve had plenty of dealings with them. Once my brother helped me do a delivery in Brooklyn to an obvious gambling parlor. We drop off the equipment and had to pick up a cash payment of $3000. All hundreds. So my mind goes blank and I start counting the money like an asshole in front of this guy standing there with with two goons (I should have known better). For some reason I guess one bill looked funny so I paused to look at it and then the dude blurts out &quot;What, my fuckin money isnt good enough for you&quot; me: &quot;sorry, no I&#x27;m just making sure...&quot; he cuts me off: &quot;Do yourself a favor, take the money and get the fuck out&quot; while the two goons glared at us. We did just that.<p>And of course, going back to Goodfellas, over the years there have been a few homes dug up around the neighbourhood by the FBI looking for Burk&#x27;s Lufthansa money. And a bunch of bodies found buried in &quot;The Hole&quot;. I still pass by Roberts Lounge on my way to my favourite Halal cart. It&#x27;s a Jamaican Restaurant now and I wonder if they know there were upward of a dozen bodies buried in and around that building at one point.<p>I wish I could gather up more stories and write a better post but work.