South Philly has produced some of the most powerful mobsters in the country, with many capturing headlines along the way, but some cannot tell their own tale.
Angelo Bruno, John Stanfa, Ralph Natale, Phil Testa, Joey Merlino
Pop culture is riddled with more mob movies and TV shows than an unlucky gangster's body is with bullets. Americans are fascinated with the dark side and have made "The Sopranos" the poster children for the Mafia and Victoria Gotti, daughter of John "The Dapper Don" Gotti, and her spoiled-rotten offspring its royal family with the reality show "Growing Up Gotti."
But contrary to what pop culture loves to portray, the mob is far from glamorous and exciting. Just take a look at where Cosa Nostra -- Sicilian for "our thing" -- landed South Philly's own tough guys, all of whom made headlines at one point or another: Angelo "The Gentle Don" Bruno, Phil "Chicken Man" Testa and his son Salvatore Testa got whacked, while Nicodemo "Little Nicky" Scarfo, John Stanfa, Ralph Natale, "Skinny" Joey Merlino and Ron Previte are all in prison for racketeering and murder among other offenses,
George Anastasia, who has written extensively about the mob for The Philadelphia Inquirer since the late 1970s and authored four books on the subject, noted, "If you look at the list, you see where these guys have ended up," Anastasia, a native of the 1700 block of Watkins Street who now lives in South Jersey, told the Review.
Bruno was the longest running crime boss and perhaps one of the most respected for the low-key approach that earned him his nickname.
Bruno ruled from '59 to March 21, 1980, when he was shot to death in his car with driver John Stanfa in front of Bruno's home at 934 Snyder Ave. Under the Sicilian immigrant's tenure, "he did everything low-key -- he didn't do any public shootings in restaurants or in the street" unlike how later-day mobsters such as the ruthless Scarfo conducted business, Capt. Charles Bloom of the police department's Central Intelligence Bureau said. "If you had to describe Bruno, you could say, 'make money, don't make headlines,'" Bloom said.
His attitude in life did not mark his death. His violent end received press from outlets such as The New York Times, which covered the fallout from Stanfa's trial for perjury in connection to the killing to FBI testimony in '81 that Scarfo was the new head of the family.
Stanfa suffered a graze wound in the Bruno ambush, Anastasia said, adding, "To this day there's conflicting reports. Some people believe Stanfa was part of the plot and he knew what was going to happen and others say he didn't. I tend to believe the former."
Under Bruno's reign, the Philadelphia crime family was among the most powerful in the United States, trailing closely being New York and Chicago. The Gentle Don carved out a close relationship with Carlo Gambino, leader of New York's family -- a friendship that saved Bruno when short-lived Philly boss Antonio Pollina wanted him killed in '59.
As the story goes, Bruno pledged his loyalty to Pollina despite being passed over for the job, but the new boss still felt threatened. When Pollina ordered a hit, Gambino intervened by not only halting the slaying, but putting his new friend in charge of the Philadelphia crime family. The first notch in Bruno's belt of civility was sparing Pollina.
According to Bloom, the Philly mob, which controlled this city and South Jersey including Atlantic City, has always been in New York's shadow and the former often cannot operate without the latter's blessing.
Bruno's death at 69 paved the way for a slew of flamboyant, young wiseguys to take the helm. "That totally destabilized the organization and it's been destabilized since then. It's been disorganized organized crime," Anastasia said.
The new guns included Bruno underling Testa, who was blown up March 15, 1981, on his front porch on the 2100 block of Porter Street in Girard Estate by a nail bomb and later immortalized in Bruce Springsteen's song "Atlantic City," whose lyrics say, "Well they blew up the Chicken Man in Philly last night/Now they blew up his house too." The song, featured on the Boss' "Nebraska" album, which made it to No. 3 on the U.S. Billboard Pop Album charts, brought the scene to the attention of countless music fans worldwide.
More than 20 years later, Testa's fatal bombing is still making news. An Oct. 7 Time article cited the killing in its piece "The Sicilian Connection," which explores the U.S. Cosa Nostra's alleged link to the Sicilian Mafia.
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1. p.r said... on Jan 8, 2009 at 08:36PM
“Yeah if there still a "MOB" then why is my neighborhood so full of drug dealers and drug addicts. When I was a kid it was safe to walk the streets and know that you'll be protected, now you can't even sit on your step with out a crack head or drug dealer on your block. I personally miss the " MOB" they did not allow this to go on in your own back yard. Elderly people getting robbed and people getting shot at randomly this would have never gone on back in my day and I am only 42 years old!! I miss the old "MOB" the one that protected us!!”
2. Captain Jim said... on Mar 26, 2009 at 02:03PM
“THERE IS NO COSA NOSTRA ”
3. Joe said... on Apr 14, 2009 at 06:50PM
“Joey Merlino is a bum who ran around Philly with his crew pushing people around. Take the goons away he is nothing.”
4. Joey said... on Aug 6, 2009 at 04:16PM
“But do they have bed bugs in their homes? ”