1. society
2. crime
3. organized crime

V O L U M E 0 1 - I S S U E 2 4 • J U N E 2 6 - J U L Y 0 2 , 2 0 0 3 • L O N G I S L A N D ' S N E W S A N D E N T E R T A I N M E N T W E E K L Y • W W W. L O N G I S L A N D P R E S S . C O M
BELLMORE-MERRICK
AND ACROSS L.I., EMS
SQUADS ARE GROWING
P.12
CONSTRUCTION DELAYS
WHY WON'T FRED WILPON
LET THE METS REBUILD?
P.94
26
COVER
Another Mob Family Falls
O
n October 3, 2001, a Suffolk County
detective sat in a local diner, carefully
listening to a conversation between two
patrons: Charles “Charley the Wig”
Tavernise, of Greenlawn, and Ridge resident
James “Rocco” Ferretti. Both alleged affiliates
of the Colombo organized crime family, the
two were discussing how to recoup a loansharking debt that had run up to $90,000
due to mounting interest. The debtor
was planning on selling his boat to pay his
creditors.
“The old man got a hold of me and he’s
not happy,” said the 59-year-old Tavernise,
speaking of his boss’ feelings about the loansharking operation.
“Hey, I might have $70,000 this week.
Keep prayin’ or I’m gonna smack the shit out
of someone,” replied Ferretti, who is 58.
“The guy [the boat owner] offered 65.”
“Well get it then, get it,” Tavernise
advised.
“I have another guy that owes $30,000,
but he just lost his job in the securities
exchange,” Ferretti added.
“I don’t want to hear that shit. I can’t tell
the old man that,” Tavernise replied.
The “old man” Tavernise referred to
is alleged Colombo captain and acting
consigliere Ralph Lombardo, a 72-year-old
Merrick resident who law enforcement officials believe controls much of the Colombo
family’s operations on Long Island—a fact to
which former Colombo soldier-turned-cooperating-witness Joseph Campanella is
expected to testify. The operations under
Lombardo are said to include a major bookmaking and loansharking business stretching
throughout LI, Brooklyn and Queens that
particularly targeted young employees of
stock brokerage firms. Tavernise is believed to
be Lombardo’s driver and right-hand man.
The Long Island Press has learned that last
week, the Suffolk County D.A.’s office and
the office of the U.S. Attorney for the Eastern
District under Roslynn Mauskopf, working
in tandem, arrested Tavernise, Ferretti,
Lombardo and three others on charges
including loansharking, illegal gambling,
Colombo family consigliere Ralph Lombardo after his arrest on June 17
racketeering and witness tampering in a
federal indictment. The arrests were the
conclusion of a lengthy investigation into the
Colombo family’s businesses on LI and in
New York City, which included court-authorized wiretaps of phone conversations and
other forms of electronic surveillance. The
Colombo busts are the latest chapter in a
family-by-family takedown of organized
crime on Long Island.
MONEY ON THE STREET
Among all the various mob moneymaking schemes, two proven methods for earning
serious cash are loansharking and gambling,
which usually feed off one another. Gamblers
down on their luck often take out usurious
high-interest loans to cover their losses, which
can lead to a dangerous downward spiral.
The Colombos’ bookmaking business,
which prosecutors say brought in tens of
thousands in proceeds each week, used an off-
shore wire room to process bets, an approach
popular with illegal bookmakers. Bettors
called a toll-free number and used an account
number and password to place bets.
Prosecutors tell the Press Tavernise supervised
the entire gambling operation and was the
primary contact with the wire room.
According to investigators, the loanshark
business was run primarily by another defendant, William “Whitey” Bonfiglio, who’s currently serving time on a federal extortion
charge in the U.S. penitentiary in Lewisburg,
Pennsylvania. After Bonfiglio’s arrest on July
26, 2001, when a ledger seized at his home
reflected $500,000 in “on the street” loans,
Ferretti assumed responsibility for collecting
debts, and delegated some of those duties to
another defendant, Merrick resident Scott
Fiorello, 26, as well as others. Loans were
offered at rates of 1 to 5 percent per week,
equal to a range of 52 to 250 percent interest
per year.
Through hundreds of intercepted phone
calls, investigators pieced together a litany of
threats Lombardo’s crew used to collect debts.
In one conversation, Bonfiglio and Ferretti
visited a now-cooperating witness (possibly a
gambling runner) at an auto body shop in
Suffolk to admonish him for his failure to
collect from others as well as pay his own
debt. After instructing the person on how to
collect, saying, “You sit there, you park your
f**king truck and you wait for him to come
home,” Ferretti added that Bonfiglio’s protection was the only thing preventing the witness from suffering the consequences of his
own debts. “Where I stand, if it wasn’t for this
guy [Bonfiglio] right now, let me tell you
something—and I f**king mean this—you
wouldn’t be walking again,” Ferretti said.
“You bet somebody would be looking for
you, ’cause you’d be gone.”
Later in the conversation, when the witness explained he’d be able to pay his debts if
he could just collect the money he was owed,
Bonfiglio and Ferretti again stressed the need
for threats and violence to collect debts.
“After you grab the first guy, second guy, third
guy, then the other guys fall into place, especially if they all know each other in a clique.
These guys are married or they [have] jobs.
They don’t want to be put in the hospital for
a f**king week, or they don’t want to go home
and the wife sees the beating.”
Pending trial, Tavernise has been placed
under electronic surveillance, while prosecutors have recommended that Lombardo and
Ferretti be detained until trial, but the
bail hearings have not yet been held. Bonfiglio
continues to serve his sentence at Lewisburg.
ANOTHER FAMILY
IN SHAMBLES
Friday, June 27, marks a milestone in law
enforcement’s battle with the Lucchese family,
one of the other major organized crime
families currently active on Long Island.
Although an adjournment has pushed proceedings back to late July, it’s the original date
of the sentencing hearing for alleged Lucchese
underboss and consigliere Joe Caridi, a
COVER
Later, on June 6, 2002, Lento and
Salanardi recapped a meeting that was
held at Caridi’s East Northport home,
an encounter that obviously left an
impression.
“I’ll tell you one thing…he’s got a
f**king house,” Lento said of Caridi’s
home.
“He must have made some money
along the line,” Salanardi added. “He
didn’t just make it…he’s a hustler. The
guy moved around. He knows everybody.”
Suffolk D.A. Tom Spota says Caridi is the
number-two man in the family, second only
to acting boss Louis Daidone. He has a
lengthy rap sheet that includes convictions
for assault, promoting gambling, possession
of gambling records, attempted burglary, robbery in the second degree, several incidents of
bank fraud and New Jersey convictions of
gambling and conspiracy. Law enforcement
sources say Caridi has been in and out of jail
for a good portion of his life. His plea agreement in the federal case estimates his sentencing will be 100 to 125 months, or in the
range of eight to 10 years.
Caridi’s pending incarceration tops the
lengthy list of Lucchese family associates
prosecutors have targeted in recent months,
and with Vinny Salanardi reportedly cooperating as a witness, it seems the Lucchese
onion will be further peeled. Now, with the
Colombo family’s local operations also under
fire, investigators have put a sizeable dent in
Long Island’s criminal underworld.
Part One of “Un-Made Men” appeared
in Issue 12, and is in the archives at
www.longislandpress.com
Lucchese family consigliere Joe Caridi is the prize fish
investigators have landed this year
Photo by Dennis Clark
54-year-old East Northport resident
Lucchese Boys
who pleaded guilty in March to federal
charges of restaurant extortion,
gambling conspiracy and tax evasion, a
plea that also satisfied charges of enterprise corruption arising from a separate
Suffolk County D.A. investigation.
Family “capo,” or captain, John
“Johnny Sideburns” Cerrella, 58, as
well as five others, have also since
Peter Salanardi - Cooling his heels since Dec.
Vincent Salanardi - singing to the feds
John Cerella - awaiting sentencing
pleaded guilty to charges filed in the
resident, continues to loom over the organ- December arrests. So far it appears that
federal investigation.
The Lucchese crime family has been ized crime landscape, and now the Lucchese Salanardi has gone into witness protection
under attack for roughly the last nine family has its own informant to fear: Vincent without his wife, girlfriend and family
months, since the first string of busts carried “Vinny Baldy” Salanardi, a 39-year-old members. His father, Peter, who pleaded “not
out by Suffolk law enforcement in Staten Island resident also busted by feds in guilty” after being arrested in December, was
November, partly over a local gambling oper- the December sweep. Charges against denied bail and has been cooling his heels in
ation and the alleged extortion of the Salanardi include extortion, loansharking, a federal lockup in Brooklyn for the last six
Brentwood adult business Sinderella (see witness tampering and participation in a drug months. He was expected to change his plea
“Unmade Men,” Long Island Press April 10). ring that distributed cocaine and Vicodin in as we went to press.
In early December, on the heels of those Staten Island bars. One has to wonder what
arrests, federal prosecutors led by Mauskopf tales Salanardi is currently telling prosecutors, THE GANGSTER NEXT DOOR
The arrest of Caridi and his resulting
launched a second strike against the family, since he’s known as a big-time talker among
consisting of a 36-count indictment with those who conducted surveillance prior to the guilty plea is undoubtedly the biggest blow to
the Lucchese hierarchy so far through the
charges against 27 defendants for crimes tak- arrests.
In addition to discussing internal politics, recent busts. Already fighting an enterprise
ing place on Long Island and in the five borthe
feds’ tapes of Salanardi’s conversations corruption charge filed by Suffolk County
oughs. The charges focused primarily on typical gangster business—gambling, racketeer- reveal the bloody, violent side of the mob. For District Attorney Tom Spota, Caridi, or
ing, loansharking and restaurant extortion— example, on February 5, 2002, Salanardi told “Joe C.,” was brought in by feds for extortion
as well as running a Staten Island drug ring. a debtor who didn’t have the money due that (particularly at a popular Nassau restaurant),
With a few exceptions, the busts largely day, “If I stick my foot down your f**king running a nationwide sports betting operafocused again on Lucchese family associates throat and break your f**king jaw and forget tion that operated through an offshore Costa
and, as in the Suffolk case, Caridi topped the about the $5,000, are you going to be Rican wire room and defrauding the IRS.
happy?…Make sure you’ve got the whole bal- The feds say that “despite a lavish lifestyle” he
list of those involved.
“In this case, making extensive use of elec- ance you owe me f**king Friday, you under- failed to file personal income tax returns from
tronic surveillance and federal-local coopera- stand? Or f**king Saturday you’re gonna be 1997 to 2001. As a “made” man of considertion, we and our partners in law enforcement planted in the f**king hospital.” On other able power and influence living in suburbia, a
have successfully uncovered and uprooted occasions he threatened to break the same football dad who even talked business with
organized criminal activity in Nassau, Suffolk, debtor’s legs and “hospitalize” him. In associates during games, the comparisons to
Queens, Kings, Richmond and Bronx coun- another conversation, 48-year-old Lucchese another well-known underboss—Tony
ties, and have dismantled a violent and enter- associate Ralph Lento, of Brooklyn, told Soprano—were inevitable.
Through phone conversations between
prising crew operated by the Lucchese family Salanardi he’d just gotten into a fight with
Lucchese
members intercepted as part of the
another
man,
possibly
a
wiseguy
in
the
consigliere Joseph Caridi,” Mauskopf says.
On the day of the plea, Caridi, perhaps Gambino family. “I just had a beef. I hit a federal investigation, Caridi appears to be a
showing a bit of the old-school “stand-up guy…I hit him in the f**king head. I hit him man both feared and respected, who was disguy” gangster ethic, initiated a semantic argu- in the face. I hit him with The Club [anti- trustful of phones and preferred meeting
associates in person. His reputation as an
ment with Judge Steven Gold, refusing to say theft device], blood all over.”
Law enforcement officials confirm that earner and higher-up in the family was conhe was a part of the Lucchese family, but
Salanardi
has begun cooperating as a witness firmed through several very specific discusrather part of a “conspiracy” or “enterprise.”
Gold eventually allowed the plea to stand and was moved from general population in sions. For example, on April 3, 2002, Lento
without Caridi speaking the Lucchese name. Brooklyn’s Metropolitan Correction Center discussed with Vincent Salanardi a dinner the
to a special prison unit for informants. night before at a Nassau restaurant the family
Sources say Salanardi’s chitchat, recorded by allegedly took over. Several Lucchese
THE SONGBIRD
But while some alleged mobsters stead- feds on tapped cell phones, led to many of the members, including Caridi, attended the
fastly honor their vows of silence, prosecutors charges against him, as well as those against dinner.
“That other guy can be a nasty guy,”
continue to build cases with the use of turn- his 61-year-old father, Peter, girlfriend Stacy
Lento
said.
Dileo,
31,
stepdaughter
Desirae
Rizzo,
25,
coat informers. The implications of the
“Who, Joe?” asked Salanardi. “Everybody
reported defection this year of Bonanno and 42-year-old brother-in-law Arthur
can
be
nasty when the reins are in their hands.”
“Harvey”
Tarzia,
as
well
as
22
others
in
the
family underboss Salvatore Vitale, a Syosset
27
28
COVER
Scene Stealers
Our Love Affair with Mobsters in the Media
BY BRENDAN MANLEY
O
ne place where the mafia will always
exist, despite the relentless efforts of
prosecutors, is in film and television.
Thousands of die-hard fans wait breathlessly
for the new season of The Sopranos to start,
and millions tune in to watch the show (12.5
million viewers nationwide watched the
2002 season finale). But in reality, Tony
Soprano is one of the last people we’d want
to come knocking at our door.
Organized crime dramas draw us into a
world of murder, money and excess that
most of us can only imagine—and we like it
that way. Our love affair with the mob is an
illustration of bizarre paradox and vicarious
escapism.
“Americans are fascinated with crime. If
you look at movies and TV, they’re absolutely filled with stories about crime,” says Dr.
Joseph M. Conforti, a distinguished professor of sociology at SUNY Old Westbury and
author of the paper Good News and Bad
News: The Mafia is No Longer la Cosa Nostra,
but There Are More Mafias Than Ever.
“When it gets to the point where it’s organized, it becomes even more intriguing.”
Organized crime in New York dates back
to the origins of the state. From the first
English settlers to later waves of German,
Irish and Italian immigrants, those who
struggle to get a leg up in society have historically tended to band together and do
things their own way, often outside of the
law. Martin Scorcese chronicled the bloody
19th century struggles of New York’s Irish
population in his epic film Gangs of New
York, based on the book by Herbert Asbury.
But for much of the late 20th century,
the image we associate with organized crime
is the Italian gangster—the Mafioso—a subject Scorcese knows well. Hollywood films
like The Godfather and Goodfellas made tales
of New York’s gangster underworld legendary. Now the latest mafia-centric sensation, HBO’s The Sopranos, has further fueled
our cultural obsession with the mafia and
successfully transplanted this storyline into
the 21st century.
“The way the mafia’s been depicted over
the years is one of intrigue—plots within and
between the groups, violence of various
kinds and warfare,” says Conforti. “Another
part is the depiction of Italians. The
American audience is interested in the depiction of lower-class Italians; people who often
don’t speak articulately or are emotional and
get excited. [Mafia stories] bring together an
almost perfect medium of entertainment.”
Indeed, by portraying an ordinary ‘middle
class’ mafia family, rather than the operagoing, Italian-speaking, elegant characters in
The Godfather, The Sopranos may have
brought mafia portrayals closer to reality.
But some will tell you that the Sopranosinspired surge of interest in all things mafia is
actually contradictory to the true, modern,
real-world state of la Cosa Nostra. After years
of battling increasingly empowered prosecutors and coexisting with new emerging ethnic gangs, many believe the Italian mob’s
glory days are behind it.
“I’m fascinated that the [mafia] image is
so much alive, even though the Italian mafia
is so much dead,” says Conforti. “If you look
at the recent arrests, they’re generally older
guys. They’re not recruiting as many young
men.”
Mafia experts say that organized crime
chooses the person, not the other way
around. While there’s likely to be an occasional Sopranos viewer who contemplates
the charms of the cash-infused and lawless
life of a gangster (not to mention the benefits
of running a strip club), the mafia generally
isn’t something you sign up for. “Things are
not done that way,” Conforti explains.
“People who get into this are recruited at a
personal level—through kinship, neighborhood affiliation, etc.”
Nonetheless, Suffolk County law
enforcement, notably District Attorney Tom
Spota and Police Commissioner James
Gallagher, are making strenuous efforts in
their gang-related arrest briefings to shatter
the Hollywood gangster mystique.
“I hope this sends a searing message, not
only to the people who are in or attracted to
this criminal enterprise known as the
Lucchese crime family, but to others who
may be attracted because they’re looking at a
TV show called The Sopranos and some other
TV shows,” Spota said at one such briefing
recently. “They should know that if they are
attracted to this life of crime, then we’re coming after them.”
According to the August 2001 Public
MindPoll conducted by Fairleigh Dickinson
University, 26 percent of Sopranos viewers
polled think the show is “pretty much telling
the truth about people and events it depicts,”
whereas 62 percent think the show is “just a
story,” and 12 percent were unsure. Only a
third of viewers polled knew the show was set
in New Jersey, but those who did were more
readily accepting of the plotline as truth.
“The data shows that most viewers think
of The Sopranos as ‘just a story’ and not ‘the
truth’. Maybe this is just an enjoyable television show that has captured a decent share of
its target audience and nothing more,” said
Professor Gloria Gadsden of Fairleigh
Dickinson University, commenting on the
survey results. “Rest easy, parents of America,
your daughters and sons probably won’t
aspire to join the mob or shoot up a school
watching this New Jersey-based program.”
What concerns Conforti is not that
Americans choose to embrace the violent,
hard-and-fast lifestyle portrayed in the mafia
fable, but rather the incorrect racial stereotypes that may also become part of this
myth. No longer the newest wave of immigrants on the block, he says the majority of
Italian-Americans in this country live honest,
legitimate, tax-paying lives, and that organized crime is now dominated by emerging
immigrant groups coming from Russia,
Latin America, Asia and the Caribbean. But
movies about the Italian Mafioso are simply
more interesting than movies about real-life
Italians.
“Who wants to see a movie about an
Italian-American dentist or accountant?”
he asks.