Even more ominous, under gaming board chairman Tad Decker’s direction, G-Tech was also tasked with working with BIE on background investigations of potential casino employees. To Periandi, all that meant was the administration through G-Tech would get a heads-up on the status of all background investigations. Periandi had wanted to know more about the firm, but Decker prevented the state police from performing a mandatory background check despite a requirement that every vendor had to be vetted, with every principal submitting to a background review. But that wasn’t to be the case with G-Tech.
SEVEN
James Riddle Hoffa was a fast-rising union organizer for the International Brotherhood of Teamsters union. Born in Indiana in 1913, Hoffa’s father was a coal miner who died in 1920 of black-lung disease. His mother moved the family in 1922 to Detroit where, at fourteen, Hoffa dropped out of school and worked as a manual laborer, but he later showed promise as a union organizer while working at Kroger Grocery and Baking Company unloading fruit and vegetables from trains. Hoffa earned thirty-two cents an hour, much of it in company credit to exchange for groceries. The shifts were twelve hours long and began in the late afternoon, but workers were only paid for the time they actually unloaded goods.
In 1931, in the midst of the Great Depression, with bread lines found on virtually every corner, Hoffa led his first work stoppage after two friends were fired for walking off the premises to eat their dinner. Truckloads of Florida strawberries had just arrived and needed to be placed in refrigerators, but Hoffa resisted and supplied a list of demands, which included a thirteen-cents–per-hour raise, guaranteed pay for half a day, medical insurance and Kroger’s recognition of the workers union, which would soon apply for and receive a charter as Federal Local 19341 of the American Federation of Labor.
Hoffa lost his job a year later after he punched a plant foreman, but his burgeoning reputation earned him a position with the International Brotherhood of Teamsters Local 299. Hoffa didn’t receive a salary. Instead, he earned a percentage of the dues each new member would pay to join the union, which amounted to a $10 initiation fee and $2 per month. Hoffa jumped into his new job with gusto, organizing workers throughout Detroit, visiting warehouses, loading docks and stopping at truck stops to preach the union way. The work was dangerous and often violent, as union organizers often found themselves in confrontations with the police and thugs hired by the very businesses Hoffa sought to unionize. During his first year, by his own account, Hoffa was clubbed, punched or hit with brass knuckles three dozen times.
The number of beatings nearly matched his arrest record. Hoffa would show up on picket lines, where he’d be arrested, brought to the police station, released and then return back to the picket line. During one twenty-four-hour period, Hoffa was arrested eighteen times.
When Hoffa wasn’t picketing, he was driving up and down country highways, approaching long-haul drivers while they slept. He perfected his rat-a-tat introduction of “Hi, I’m Jimmy Hoffa of the Teamsters” and would say it quickly before stepping back to show the driver he wasn’t there to rob him. Of course, sometimes the truckers were really toughs hired by the trucking companies to rough up Hoffa.
Along with the head, facial and body wounds suffered from his duties, Hoffa was the target of several car bombings, and he developed the habit to never close the door when starting his car. He’d leave his left leg hanging out, believing he’d simply get blown out of the car and thus improve his chances for survival if the car exploded. Hoffa’s fearlessness, boundless enthusiasm and belief in the union way endeared him to the men he was recruiting. He also benefited financially from signing the new members.
A decade later, Hoffa was running Detroit Teamsters Local 299, and his rise to power coincided with a partnership that not only provided the muscle to help inflict his will, but one that would follow him through the rest of his days.
And it was through that alliance that Hoffa first met William Bufalino.
William Bufalino first appeared in Detroit during the summer of 1946. The son of a coal miner, Bufalino was born in 1918 and was one of nine children raised in Pittston, Pennsylvania. He studied for two years to become a Catholic priest before deciding on a career as an attorney. After serving in the U.S. Army’s Judge Advocate Corps during World War II, William arrived in Michigan under orders from his older cousin.
Since 1940, Detroit had served as one of the strategic import centers for narcotics arriving from Italy. Detroit’s harbor and central location provided easy distribution throughout the Midwest, and the members of the “Detroit Partnership,” the organized crime group coheaded by Angelo Meli, used their money from the lucrative drug trade to fuel other businesses, including jukeboxes and labor racketeering.
Meli’s narcotic connections linked him closely to New York mobsters, who shared in the lucrative drug trade, and in 1941, the alliance found another source of revenue, thanks to Jimmy Hoffa and the International Brotherhood of Teamsters. During Hoffa’s rise from union organizer to president of Detroit Teamsters Local 299, he was locked in a death struggle with the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO). He needed help, and he turned to Santo Perrone, the Detroit crime boss, and Meli.
Raised in Detroit, Meli was a gangster almost by birth, and by the 1930s, he had consolidated his power, eventually serving as consigliere to the Detroit family. He was also among the first organized crime figures to be aligned with Jimmy Hoffa’s Teamsters Local 299.
When William Bufalino arrived in Detroit, he came with $30,000, with half coming from a Pittston bank and the remainder from his cousin, Russell. The money was used to invest in the Bilvin Distributing Company, which placed jukeboxes throughout the region but also served as a front for Russell, Meli and a host of other underworld associates. Within two years after arriving in Detroit, William had settled in, even marrying Angelo Meli’s niece, Marie Antoinette Meli, and the marriage united the Bufalino and Meli families. It was typically Sicilian yet proved to be a pivotal event, given that the Bufalinos were now firmly cemented in Detroit and focused on a bigger prize—the Teamsters union.
In 1948, William gave up his interests in the jukebox company and was named president of Detroit Teamsters Local 985, which in reality was headed by Hoffa. Sharp-tongued, the younger Bufalino was the perfect choice to lead the Bufalino family’s interests in Detroit, and he would keep his cousin Russell abreast of everything there was to know regarding the Teamsters, and Jimmy Hoffa.
* * *
BY THE TIME the Kefauver Committee issued its final report, in 1951, Russell Bufalino was fully in charge of the Pittston family.
His rise had been facilitated by a variety of factors. He was smart, organized and maintained the lowest of profiles. He also had the counsel of Santo Volpe and his uncle Charles Bufalino, the two aging leaders who transformed the Wyoming Valley years earlier through bribes and murder. Most important, Bufalino had the support of his old mentor, don Stefano Magaddino of Buffalo.
Following Prohibition, Magaddino remained a force within organized crime circles. He still had a seat on the Commission, and his business interests remained far and wide and included tribute that came from the Scranton region through Bufalino.
As a student of Magaddino, Bufalino never showed any visible signs of wealth. He lived in a modest ranch-style home he purchased for $22,000. He dressed plainly, drove an older car and, because of a cataract problem, he often had someone drive him from one appointment to another. His local business interests, aside from the garment factories, included restaurants, hotels, banks and jewelry shops. The student was also trained to be ruthless, and he dispatched enemies quickly and quietly, relying on a core group of killers.
Yet outside his “family” pursuits, Bufalino treated civilians with kindness and respect. On one occasion, Bufalino spotted an elderly neighbor working on his roof in the middle of a sweltering summer day. Within minutes several brawny men arrived and told the man to get down.
“Mr. Bufalino says you shouldn’t be working up there on such a hot day and we should finish the job for you,” said one of the men.
Known as “McGee” by those closest to him, Bufalino cultivated politicians and took care of local police departments, either through cash handouts or favors. Upon arriving home from New York every Wednesday, Bufalino made a point of having dinner with his wife, Carrie, and close friends, but he only visited restaurants that he owned or was sure of the quality of its fare. Bufalino loved food and the artistry of creating a good meal. There was the red wine, which he used to dip his prosciutto bread, a main course of chicken or fish and always the pasta with the “gravy,” or sauce. When he wasn’t eating in a familiar restaurant, Bufalino would entertain by cooking special meals. Food was just more than eating. It was an opportunity to communicate, to talk, to enjoy the company of friends or to discuss issues with associates and underlings relating to his myriad of business interests.
In addition to his hold over the Scranton area and interests in New York, Bufalino also spent time in Philadelphia with his good friend Angelo Bruno, whose father ran the Philly mob until his death, in 1946.
Bruno remained an important member of the family and was in line to become its boss, but he was content developing and nurturing his many business interests and those he shared with Bufalino. The two men had similar personality traits. Both were quiet and operated behind the scenes, though Bruno was more of a conciliator than Bufalino. Later known as “the Gentle Don,” Bruno preferred to negotiate a problem but wouldn’t hesitate to use violence as the means to an end.
Along with his hold over the garment industry, Bufalino’s rising influence within the Teamsters union provided him with a powerful platform. He and Bruno shared a hold over the Teamsters, though Bruno’s interest was the Philadelphia local, while Bufalino had inroads in the national organization through his cousin William and Jimmy Hoffa.
By the mid-1950s, Bufalino was earning 5 percent for every Teamsters loan he’d facilitate for friends and business associates from the Central States pension fund, and as Hoffa rose through the national union, so too did Bufalino’s fortunes. His placement of cousin William in Detroit in 1946 was a genius stroke, and William’s subsequent appointment to lead Jimmy Hoffa’s Detroit Teamsters Local 985 brought Russell Bufalino closer to the bombastic, up-and-coming Hoffa as their relationship grew deeper, and profitable.
Bufalino liked Hoffa. He was tough, had a good business mind and, above all, was a man of his word. But because of the attention brought by the Kefauver Committee, a new U.S. House subcommittee in 1953, chaired by Representative Clare E. Hoffman, began investigating racketeering in Detroit. The Hoffman Committee focused on Hoffa and his local 985 president, William Bufalino. In its report, the committee discovered the true dealings behind the Detroit local.
There existed a gigantic, wicked conspiracy to, through the use of force, threats of force and economic pressure, extort and collect millions of dollars not only from unorganized workers but from members of unions who are in good standing, from independent businessmen, and, on occasion, from the Federal Government itself. . . . The Teamsters union, Local 985, through its president William E. Bufalino, is the principal offender and perpetrator of the racketeering, extortion, and gangsterism.
Despite its report, the committee did little to upset organized crime’s control over the union or its influence with Hoffa and the Teamsters. Still, the FBI had no choice but to quietly acknowledge that the mob did exist, and J. Edgar Hoover ordered the bureau to begin the Top Hoodlum Program.
Agents in cities across America were told to document the activities of the nation’s top organized crime figures, and that included Bufalino, with his first reports filed by agents trailing him in Pittston, New York and Philadelphia. A year later, the bureau had accumulated enough information to produce an initial report for its Philadelphia Top Hoodlum file.
[Russell Bufalino] is the nephew of Charles Bufalino, alleged to be one of the two most powerful men in the Mafia of the Pittston, Pa. area. . . . Russell Bufalino is the active leader of the Mafia, with his uncle Charles and Santo Volpe acting as silent partners. . . . We are advised that during World War II, Bufalino was employed as a mechanic in a bottling plant operated by Joseph Barbara in Binghamton, N.Y. Bufalino is married and resides at 720 Wyoming Street, Exeter, which is near Pittston, Pa. . . . Bufalino, as the alleged head of the Mafia in the Pittston area, has gained control of approximately seven dress factories in that area and apparently has a “hold” on all persons involved in gambling activities in the Pittston area, in that he, Bufalino, gets a “cut” from each of them.
During April of 1953 . . . there were approximately 40 dress factories in and around Pittston, Pa. About half of these factories are operated by individuals from the New York City area, about whom background information was not available to the informant. The remaining half are operated by individuals from the Pittston area and have been infiltrated and dominated by known racketeers and hoodlums headed by [Bufalino]. Informant stated that it was his understanding that anyone who desired to enter this field had to make arrangements through Bufalino, who has contacts in New York City, to obtain contracts for dresses. In return, Bufalino received a certain percentage of each dress manufactured under the contract.
Aside from his contacts with Santo Volpe and Charles Bufalino, the report linked Bufalino to several other mobsters, including Bruno. Agents tracked Bufalino to hangouts such as the Imperial Poolroom in Pittston and an office he used near the Martz bus terminal in Scranton. They also followed him on his weekly trips to New York City, where he routinely stayed at the Hotel Forrester, with side trips to the Hotel Lexington and the Hotel New Yorker.
Bufalino usually flew to New York from the airport in Evoca, Pennsylvania, near Scranton on Monday morning and returned to Pennsylvania on Wednesday. The report said that Bufalino ran all gambling activity in the region, including betting on football, baseball, basketball and crap games.
Bufalino’s closest friend, according to the FBI, was William Medico, the owner of the Medico Electric Company. Medico allegedly made his money in bootlegging during Prohibition and subsequently moved to legitimate and illegitimate businesses. Medico was described as a capo in the Bufalino family, and there was wide suspicion that it was Bufalino who actually owned the Medico firm.
By 1956, the FBI was trailing Bufalino regularly and even followed him, Medico and James Osticco, Bufalino’s underboss, to Cuba, where they were spotted meeting with Santo Trafficante Jr. the South Florida Mafia boss who co-owned the Sans Souci night club. Bufalino remained there for a month. Medico later denied having been on the trip, but he forgot that he returned via the Bahamas, from where the FBI recovered a postcard he sent on May 5, 1956, which was stamped with the mark of the British Empire, which controlled the islands.
The 1956 trip wasn’t the first time Bufalino had been to Cuba, but it was the first in which Bufalino had been followed to Cuba. Havana was a bustling city, alive with its casinos and nightlife, and unbeknownst to the FBI, Russell Bufalino wasn’t just some tourist.
EIGHT
In December 1946, the heads of all the organized crime families in the United States were summoned by Lucky Luciano to meet at the Hotel Nacional, in Havana.
Luciano had been imprisoned at the beginning of World War II following a conviction on a pandering charge, but he later struck an agreement to help the U.S. government by having his men keep an eye on the East Coast docks and waterfronts for German saboteurs. When the war ended, Luciano was rewarded with a pardon by New York governor Thomas E. Dewey but ordered to leave the country.
Luciano departed for Italy, where years earlier he saw the potential for heroin, particularly the vast, virgin market in the United States. Following the war, Luciano summoned the families to Havana to discuss, strategize and organize the flow of narcotics from Italy into the United States. Luciano also had another subj
ect on the agenda, and that was to resolve some festering issues that resulted from the return of Vito Genovese.
The meeting was considered historic, given the sheer numbers and power of those in attendance, which included Frank Costello, Albert Anastasia and Stefano Magaddino, who brought with him several underlings from the Buffalo and Scranton families, including Russell Bufalino.
Then in his early forties, Bufalino was a recognized leader, operating as an underboss to his brother-in-law John Sciandra but expanding his own power and influence beyond Pennsylvania and into New York City. Bufalino remained behind the scenes in Havana while the family leaders ironed out agreements on the drug trade, with the Italian heroin shipped to Havana and then brought into the United States.
Cuba was rapidly becoming a central business center for organized crime. The small country had a large identity problem due chiefly to the ever-changing political landscape, thanks in part to a former Cuban army sergeant who led a revolt in 1933.
After ascending to power, Ruben Fulgencio Batista Zaldívar subsequently gained the favor of the U.S. government, which recognized his new government in 1934. Handpicked presidents headed a puppet regime for several years before Batísta won the first election in 1940 under Cuba’s newly devised constitution. Batista lost the presidency in 1944, but by then he had developed a business partnership with organized crime, which subsequently used that foothold to buy and build new hotels and casinos to lure tourists from the United States and Europe.
The Quiet Don: The Untold Story of Mafia Kingpin Russell Bufalino Page 9