By Fred Pascente, Sam Reaves
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Extra info for Mob Cop: My Life of Crime in the Chicago Police Department
You . ” He started swearing. Tony was laughing. He loved that. Because we were playing for money, a couple of bucks. The next time Joe D. came up to bat, he swung and let the bat go, and I was right there. He tried to hit me in the head with the bat. I ducked it. I said, “You . ” I went after him, I beat his head in. ” Tony said, “You ain’t killing nobody. You’re a nitwit. ” That was when I was about thirteen. And from there Tony and I did a lot of stuff together. Tony was my guy. I never had a fight with him.
Pre–World War II, if you were from Bari, you better be with the other Barese. After the war, that was less important. In the early 1950s, the alderman of the Twenty-Fifth was Vito Marzullo. He had made his money from funeral homes before he became the alderman. Vito was direct from the Old Country. He had that strong accent. We used to go and play gin with him. His main guy was a guy by the name of George Barbuscia, who was a close friend of my father’s. When we would go over there George would say, “Let him win.
Hanhardt was tough. One time Hanhardt grabbed me and Nucci Lombardo, Joe’s younger brother. I’m working for my mother at the sandwich shop. Hanhardt walks in with his big bulldogs. All the guys are there—Tony, my cousin Mikey . . Everybody’s a bad guy except me and Nucci. ” He’s just looking around. ” I know his reputation. And if you see him, them eyes go right through you. ” “This is my mother’s store. ” He looks at Nucci. ” “You two. ” Everybody’s looking. “What the fuck, did he make a mistake?