Be as it may, Lucky knew his days were numbered. So he set out to do something completely unprecedented, at least for a Boss, the writing of his memoirs. Having old contacts in Hollywood, Lucky was soon contacted by renowned film producer Martin A. Gosch. After sizing each other up, both men agreed on a book and film but with one stipulation. The publishing date needed to be at least ten years after Lucky’s death. Lucky still had many dear friends he did not want to harm. Guys that were still in the life, loyal and trusted soldiers like Tommy ‘Three Finger Brown’ Lucchese, Frank ‘Prime Minister’ Costello, and Carlo ‘Don Carlo’ Gambino.

Soon after finishing his book, Lucky felt obligated to warn his associates of its existence and publishing. Lucky mailed a copy to Lansky and asked for a vote to have it published as stipulated. Word soon came back that publishing the book would be unhealthy to Luciano’s life. The threat, albeit a thin one, was taken very hard by Lucky and he was quickly back at the hospital suffering from chest pains. Lucky knew he would soon be dead, but still yet, he felt the mafia denial was an affront to his very being.

Looking to stick around a little while longer, Lucky gave up publishing his book, instead, he secretly advised Gosch to publish the book anyway but as previously instructed. Lucky also signed off on film rights if Gosch decided to make a movie out of the book. Gosch, realizing the state of his friend and book collaborator, decided to fly out to Naples to meet with Lucky.

It was a brisk Friday evening in January 1962. Gosch’s plane had already landed and Lucky met Gosch on the tarmac. Both men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries inquiring about each other’s health. As the men walked back to the terminal, Luciano instinctively reached for Gosch’s arm as he felt the excruciating chest pain which could only be a heart attack. As Gosch struggled to keep Lucky’s body upright, Luciano was struggling to breathe and he quickly slipped through Gosch’s hands onto the ground, paralyzed from the radiating pain. As Gosch fumbled to find Lucky’s nitroglycerin pills, people started to gather around Luciano’s lifeless body. It was too late. Within a few minutes of the heart attack, Salvatore ‘Charlie Lucky’ Luciano was dead. He was 64 years old.

The news quickly spread around Italy and the world, the Godfather of the mafia was dead from a heart attack. Lucky always knew he would wind up on a “cement slab”, as he would tell his cohorts early on in his career. He was right. Lucky led a life of crime but also one of pain, celebrity, violence, and instability. The funeral that followed would rival those of presidents and heads of state. Lucky was revered in death as much as he was when he was alive. Most historians credit him as the man who brought the Sicilian Mafia to America. And in a sense, he did, but it was a business model that would etch his name into the history books.

Lucky was a gangster and a Mafioso through and through there’s no denying that. However, he was also a decent human being. While I don’t defend nor condone his chosen career, an explanation is merited at this point.

There were hundreds of occasions where Lucky would receive people in his Naples apartment, the California, and his business offices and render aid in the form of money and favors to poor and financially strapped families. In the mafia Lucky dealt with people of an animalistic nature. People who you’d never want to meet under any circumstances. It takes a special kind of person to kill another human being. A simple stare from these types can evoke fear even in the toughest of men. But it was precisely this type of person that Lucky also had an impact on.

At Charlie’s funeral there was a man, to the casual observer an obvious American, who stood and quietly wept next to the coffin. As the man wiped clear his eye glasses, the man standing next to him, in a barely audible broken english voice questioned him. “Did you know Mr. Charlie Lucky?” The American man explained that he did indeed know Lucky. It was the next sentence that would stun the man asking questions. “I was sent from the U.S. to kill this man, but how could I kill a man who gave me a roof, and helped me when I needed it most?” At that point, the man quickly agreed and rejoined his group, leaving the grieving American man mourn. Soon thereafter, this American gangster went back to the U.S. and left the life.

the beginning, Lucky knew he would eventually ascend the ladder of mafia success. He also knew the pitfalls and the shortcomings of being the boss of bosses. Lucky lived the life, and died not at the hands of another Mafioso, but at the hands of father time.

http://www.mobbedup.com/

There was a also a rumour that Lucky was poisoned....heres some newspaper articles....


http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=2202&dat=19620210&id=qIElAAAAIBAJ&sjid=2fIFAAAAIBAJ&pg=919,1108962



http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1350&dat=19620210&id=uxxPAAAAIBAJ&sjid=ewEEAAAAIBAJ&pg=7336,4781853


...and a dismissal...


http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1350&dat=19620607&id=VLxOAAAAIBAJ&sjid=MgEEAAAAIBAJ&pg=5218,5441406

Who was the man that was suppose to do the dirty work?

Good question,i dont know neither...probably some1 sent by Vito?!When Lucky was deproted he had a power struggle in his own family and even Lansky turned his back so there r many suspects.Im looking for that info also and if i find somethin ill let ya know....

He was killed with sodium morphate. Look it up. Tastes like apples. They used that shit to kill everbody back in the 50's and 60's. You throw up, have a heart attack, and die. There is no trace in the bloodstream/body. IT can only be found if they test the vomit. Google the Gemstone Files.

Have good weekend y'all!

In fact, no package of rat poison has ever listed this substance, which remains unmentioned in any book on toxins. To dispatch rats, one generally uses arsenic, strychnine, or warfarin, none of which smells like apples. The term “morphate” implies a morphine derivative, but morphine was impossible to synthesize in medieval times - and it, too, does not smell like apples. Morphine can indeed kill (as Caruana has pointed out), but one would need very large amounts to use it as she and Roberts suggest, since ingestion (as opposed to injection) decimates the drug’s potency. An autopsy would quickly reveal morphine’s presence. While opiates can provide an excellent means of dispatching a known intravenous drug user, anyone “seasoning” an enemy’s supper has a choice of far more efficient toxic substances. (Exposed at Last: The Real Gemstone File by Martin Cannon, 2001)

In fact, no package of rat poison has ever listed this substance, which remains unmentioned in any book on toxins. To dispatch rats, one generally uses arsenic, strychnine, or warfarin, none of which smells like apples. The term “morphate” implies a morphine derivative, but morphine was impossible to synthesize in medieval times - and it, too, does not smell like apples. Morphine can indeed kill (as Caruana has pointed out), but one would need very large amounts to use it as she and Roberts suggest, since ingestion (as opposed to injection) decimates the drug’s potency. An autopsy would quickly reveal morphine’s presence. While opiates can provide an excellent means of dispatching a known intravenous drug user, anyone “seasoning” an enemy’s supper has a choice of far more efficient toxic substances. (Exposed at Last: The Real Gemstone File by Martin Cannon, 2001)

Sorry for the double post but from my research the drug is a myth, the gentlemen mentioned above just had bad eating habbits, just lookup conary artery diease

Here's a link with clip from Lucky's funeral...

http://www.britishpathe.com/video/many-mourn-gangster-aka-funeral-of-lucky-luciano

and a newspaper aritcle...

http://news.google.com/newspapers?nid=1356&dat=19620129&id=wnZPAAAAIBAJ&sjid=FwUEAAAAIBAJ&pg=6164,5325704

Don't believe the garbage that Martin Gosch wrote. It's basically a fraud.

Looks like some1 has their period today....

It really seems like Faithful1 is not a fan of anything anybody posts unless it is himself.

He or she is some sort of a article writter and there are thousands like thouse out there on the internet..and i think that this is his way of "eliminating" his competition

Good job, Toodoped! You have officially exposed Faithful1's plan to become the #1 article writer on Earth.

Hey Toodoped, thanks for the post. There's a lot of hate going around here regarding my website.

At least you know a good piece when you see one. Thanks again.

BenSiegel

Cheers my friend and keep up the good work.Its good to have a nice,relaxing read about mobs history.Fuck the "truth" inspectors,they dont have the right to say whats real and whats fake...they can only give their own opinion as the rest of us.Welcome to the GBB.peace

Yeah Mastronardo, that's my goal. You figured everything out... Or maybe I'm pointing out that the book "The Last Testament of Lucky Luciano" is a hoax that should not be used as source material for articles. People have complained about Phil Carlo for less. Martin Gosch's book is Carlo on steroids. So "Ben Siegel," this wasn't a personal attack on you, but I will point out that the source you used is poison. Check out the credibility of the book for yourself.

Some of these forum members remind me of an IRS agent. They crawl up your ass if a decimal is out of place.

I guess they refuse to watch any movie ever made on the mafia unless it's 100% accurate. What a joke.

Some of these guys are wound so tight they could literally shit diamonds.

I hold no ill will Faithful1. None at all.

Hope we can talk mafia and learn from each other.

All the best.

BenSiegel

I did not say I wrote it, or even believed it. Here is just one reference made to the chemical, and the link is below. The Gemstone Files are some 'way-out' trippy shit! Fun to read though.

"In a Mafia-style effort to shut Roberts up, his father was murdered by "plumbers" team members Liz Dale (Francic L. Dale's ex-wife), Martinez, Gonzalez, Barker; in Hahnemann's hospital, S.F. where Mr. Roberts had been taken after swallowing a sodium morphate "pill" slipped into his medicine bottle at home by Watergate locksmith (Miami's "Missing Link" locksmith shop) Gonzales. The pill didn't kill him. He had a weak digestion and vomited enough of the sodium morphate up (it burned his lips and tongue on the way out) but he had emphyxema and went to the hospital. In the hospital, "nurse" Liz Dale and "doctor" Martinez assisted him to sniff a quadruple-strength can of aerosol medicine enough to kill him the next day."

http://www.theforbiddenknowledge.com/hardtruth/gemstone_files.htm

Good. I hope so too.