For good pizza in suburban Chicago, try this place...

Villa Nova Pizzaria in Berwyn, Illinois

When they take an item off the menu, they don't re-print the whole menu. They just take a black magic marker and cross-off the item so you can't read it. But I have an un-redacted copy of the menu which names ALL of the appetizers and entrees...

tony b.

(this post is best appreciated after viewing the TV video from the special report posted earlier...and possibly archived by Donatello)

Feds: Mob defendants not the 'Sopranos'

By Jeff Coen
Tribune staff reporter
Published June 21, 2007, 2:35 PM CDT
Calling four of the defendants "Outfit killers," a federal prosecutor in the Family Secrets conspiracy trial told jurors this morning that the alleged crimes were real, not TV shows and movies that glorify the mob.

"This is not 'Sopranos.' This is not 'The Godfather.' This case is about real people and real victims," Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully said during a 50-minute opening statement in the sweeping trial that is expected to last three months or more.

The government will attempt to detail the mob's grip on street gambling, juice loans, pornography and other aspects of Chicago's dark side, including 18 gangland slayings.

The four defendants are Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, a reputed capo in the Grand Avenue street crew; Frank Calabrese Sr., a made member of the Outfit's 26th Street crew and once the city's reputed top loan shark; James Marcello, described as the boss of the Chicago Outfit when the Family Secrets indictment came down in spring 2005; and Paul "the Indian" Schiro, a reputed mob enforcer.

A fifth defendant, former Chicago police officer Anthony Doyle, is also on trial but isn't accused of the slayings.

Scully said the Outfit is "corrupt, it's violent, it's without honor." He then described each of the five men charged, summarizing their alleged crimes. The prosecutor also flashed photos of the 18 murder victims in the case on an overhead screen and gave jurors background information about each.

Scully then went through each killing and gave an outline of how authorities believe the Outfit is structured and how it makes money though illegal gambling and street taxes, among other things. He described the mob hierarchy for jurors, saying it was an organization that existed to make money.

In his opening statement, Joseph Lopez, the attorney for Calabrese, asked jurors to keep an open mind as they handle the case. He urged them to ignore the media attention and their perceptions of organized crime.

Lopez said Calabrese has been out of organized crime since the 1980s, and his brother, Nicholas Calabrese, who is the prosecution's key witness, is the mob boss. "People reported to Nick Calabrese," the attorney said. "When Nick Calabrese was in prison, crew members came to see him."

No physical evidence links his client to any murder, but DNA evidence links Nick Calabrese to one, Lopez said.

In an unusual strategic move, defense lawyer Rick Halprin, who represents Lombardo, said he would withhold his opening statement until the start of the defense's case weeks from now.

Before the opening statements, U.S. District Judge James B. Zagel swore in the jury panel, whose identities are being kept secret over the objections of the defense lawyers.

I was thinking today, when you're 60 or 70 and your name is "Joey The Clown", you've gotta be a wiseguy.

Or you have some serious mental problems. "Joey the Clown"? No one could think of a better nickname?

To see Joey's antics, you'll see why he's called "The Clown".

1st shots of Outfit trial
Defendants called killers, feuding kin

By Jeff Coen
Tribune staff reporter
Published June 22, 2007
Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully walked over to the defense tables and pointed out the men on trial one by one as he addressed jurors in a low, tense voice. Frank Calabrese Sr., a reputed Outfit hit man charged in 13 slayings, sometimes used a length of rope to strangle his victims, Scully said on the first day of the landmark Family Secrets mob trial.

Reputed Outfit boss James Marcello, he said, lured Anthony Spilotro, the mob overseer in Las Vegas, and his brother, Michael, to their violent deaths.

Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, a reputed mobster for 40 years, was behind the slaying of a businessman who was shot in front of his wife and young child before he was to testify in court against Lombardo, the prosecutor said.

Paul "the Indian" Schiro, an associate of the Spilotros, assisted in the murder of a longtime friend, he said.

Lombardo, who had stood and chirped "good morning" to jurors when he was introduced moments before, stared past Scully from behind tinted glasses. The others appeared to show no reaction as well.

Scully asked jurors to dismiss the glamorized mob of the entertainment world as he laid out the government's gritty evidence in the most significant prosecution against the Chicago Outfit in years.

"This is not 'The Sopranos.' This is not 'The Godfather.' This case is about real people and real victims," Scully said Thursday. The mob, he said, is "corrupt, it's violent, it's without honor."

In his opening statement, Frank Calabrese Sr.'s colorful lawyer, Joseph Lopez, countered with humor and an appeal to fundamental legal principles.

Lopez, wearing his trademark dark suit, pointy Italian shoes and pink shirt and socks, said jurors would hear about what amounts to a family feud. Frank Calabrese Sr.'s brother, Nicholas, is expected to be the government's star witness, and his son, Frank Jr., secretly tape-recorded his father and agreed to testify against him.

Lopez contended that Nicholas Calabrese was the real Outfit boss, and that Frank Calabrese Sr. had stepped back from heavy mob involvement since the 1980s, when his health worsened. Frank Calabrese Sr. and his namesake son simply didn't get along, Lopez said.

Both Lopez and Marcello's lawyer, Marc Martin, stressed that authorities have no physical evidence linking their clients to the murders.

Lawyers for Schiro and Anthony Doyle, a former Chicago police officer who also is on trial, are scheduled to deliver their opening statements on Monday. Doyle is not charged in connection with any slaying. Lombardo's lawyer has chosen to give his opening statement after the government rests its case weeks from now.

Testimony is likely to begin Monday in a trial expected to last at least three months. The jury has nine men and 10 women, including seven alternates.

A large crowd watched as the opening statements played out Thursday in the biggest courtroom in the Dirksen U.S. Courthouse.

The prosecution used a large screen to display mug shots of the 18 murder victims as Scully sketched out the killings and other crimes. Among the most notorious slayings are those of the Spilotros, who were beaten to death and buried in an Indiana cornfield; William and Charlotte Dauber, a hit man and his wife who were shot in their car in Will County; and Daniel Seifert, a Lombardo friend who was to testify against him.

Scully said that Lombardo's fingerprint was found on a title certificate of one of the getaway cars used in the Seifert killing.

Much of the rest of the prosecution case will rely on secretly made tape recordings and the testimony of witnesses Nicholas Calabrese and Frank Calabrese Jr. The brother will testify about his involvement in 14 mob murders and knowledge of many more, while the son recorded his father talking about the Outfit.

Scully, a longtime federal prosecutor who has specialized in organized crime, was controlled and focused as he gave jurors an overview of the complicated case. The contrast with Lopez's remarks was stark. He mixed imagery of American freedoms with descriptions of which mobster attended which Calabrese wedding -- and what jurors should make of it all.

Jurors should settle in this summer and get to know the players in a trial that the whole city is watching, he said.

"You'll be able to take note of my wardrobe," Lopez joked. "You might think I'm getting out of line with somebody [during questioning], but I'm just doing my job."

When Frank Calabrese Sr. backed away from the mob because of bad health beginning in the 1980s, brother Nick took control, Lopez said. Frank wasn't a killer, but his brother was, he said. Lopez described Frank as a peacemaker. "He prays, he has medical issues," he said.

Lopez blamed a family feud for his client's legal troubles. Frank Calabrese Sr.'s son will try to portray his father as the evil one, Lopez said, but it was his son who used to throw his weight around on Rush Street and boast of his connections. "It was good for him then, and now he's saying his father was rotten," Lopez said.

Some jurors took notes while others just watched as Lopez brought several marriages into the fray.

Frank Calabrese Sr. and his son don't get along because the son's wife drove a wedge between them, Lopez said. And Nicholas Calabrese says his brother ruined his first marriage, Lopez said, but that wife was "a little kooky" anyway.

"She sewed his zipper shut because she didn't trust him," he said.

But Lopez urged jurors to look at photos of Nicholas Calabrese's second wedding. He said they'll see plenty of Outfit notables, including John "Johnny Apes" Monteleone and others.

"They went to Nick's wedding because Nick was the boss," he said.

Among the murders detailed by the prosecution was that of Michael Albergo, believed by the mob to be a government witness. Scully said Frank Calabrese Sr. strangled him with a rope and that he and brother Nick dumped the body into a hole at a construction site near old Comiskey Park.

In 2003 the FBI tore up the site, now a parking lot, on Nicholas Calabrese's word. Lopez pointed out that dozens of bone samples turned up no links to Albergo.

In fact, no physical evidence links his client to any murder, Lopez said. Yet DNA evidence links Nick Calabrese to the bloody shooting of hit man John Fecarotta, he noted.

He told jurors that they are "mini judges" and the key to the justice system.

"That's why that flag is there," he said, motioning toward the corner of the courtroom. "That's why they kicked all that tea into Boston Harbor."

The charts used by prosecutors were filled with names of those accused of involvement in the 18 killings, including some not charged in the case. Among them was reputed ranking mobster John "No Nose" DiFronzo, who was linked to the Spilotros' murders. DiFronzo is not charged in the slayings.

Marc Martin, Marcello's lawyer, dismissed the charges against his client by saying he had been dragged into the "crosshairs of that dysfunctional family," a reference to the Calabreses.

Calabrese is trying to save his own life by blaming numerous others for his own crimes, Martin said.

"The government has made a deal with the devil," he said.

----------

jcoen@tribune.com

One of Joey's mug-shots.



Theres another image of Joey coming out of court with a newspaper in front of his face, open, like he's reading it, with a square cut out so he can see where he's going.

Whadda clown

Is that top one a recent picture? Someone needs to tell him Hoover's no longer President.

Here he is after being on the lam for 9 months...

If the image doesn't appear in my post, follow this link for the vintage photo of The Clown hiding behind the newspaper with a small cut-out for his eyes so he can see where he's walking...

http://www.darchtimes.com/blog/oct2005/joeyclown1.jpg

I would date that photo as late 1980 or early 1981 since the top story on the back page sports section trumpets the White Sox' signing of Carlton Fisk as a free agent. Fisk left the Red Sox after the 1980 season and started the 1981 season with the White Sox.

Enjoy!

tony b.

...edited to acknowledge Donatello's post which occurred around the same time that I was learning to post pictures with my post...

Mob trial hits on badge, buried secrets


Published June 22, 2007

How do 18 Chicago Outfit murders remain unsolved for decades?

It might help to have the cops on your side.

This came out in the opening statement by Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully in the historic Family Secrets trial, when Scully pointed at one of the accused, a fellow with the intriguing nickname of "Twan."

He's called Twan in the 11th Ward, in Bridgeport and Chinatown, where not only the wiseguys are nervous about this trial, but presumably some 11th Ward politicians, too, about information gushing from the mouths of Outfit informants.

Twan is a tough-looking fellow, with a muscly forehead and plates for eyebrows, a Chinatown Sammy Sosa in a nice suit, and the only one of five defendants not accused of being involved in the 18 murders.

The name Twan remains a mystery. If any of you know his longtime friend, Bridgeport's former labor boss, Frank "Toots" Caruso, and you ask Toots and he tells you, please call me. On a pay phone.

Scully's suggestion about how things work isn't in the name Twan, but in another, official name used by Twan:

Chicago Police Officer Anthony Doyle.

According to Scully, Doyle was with the Outfit and a loan shark, but Doyle also worked in the evidence section of the Chicago Police Department for a time. If Scully's allegations are correct -- and Scully was correct a few years ago when he put former Chicago Police Chief of Detectives William Hanhardt behind bars for running the Outfit's jewelry-heist crew -- the Outfit's reach into local law enforcement will be demonstrated once again.

Good cops who make small mistakes are often publicly humiliated, trotted out and yelled at by politicians who wag their fingers for TV cameras. Their families are ruined. But law-and-order politicians somehow always forget to wag their fingers at cops like Hanhardt or Twan.

If you're a loyal reader, you might remember that I wrote about Outfit tough guy John Fecarotta years ago, after reporting that Chinatown crew member Nicholas Calabrese had sought refuge in the federal witness protection program, which started Family Secrets. Fecarotta was implicated in many of the 18 murders by Scully on Thursday, including the 1986 beating deaths of brothers Anthony and Michael Spilotro. It was Fecarotta's job to bury them. He blew it by inserting them in a shallow grave in an Indiana cornfield.

After the Spilotros' bodies were found, Fecarotta was invited to go on another crime, on Belmont Avenue. But he didn't know he was the intended target until Nick Calabrese pointed a gun at his face.

There was a struggle, Nick was shot, and though Fecarotta ended up dead, a bloody glove was found, dripping with Nick's DNA. The glove ended up in the police evidence section where Doyle worked.

When the FBI began asking about the glove, Scully said Doyle became quite interested in this development, figuring that his Outfit superiors would be equally interested, if not more so. Scully alleged that Doyle told Nick Calabrese's brother, Frank Calabrese Sr., about the glove that could put the Calabrese family in the Fecarotta murder.

"He betrayed his oath to the public and decided to remain loyal to Outfit interests," Scully said.

There were other highlights in court Thursday, including Frank Calabrese Sr.'s lawyer, the dynamic and splendidly dressed Joseph Lopez, the only lawyer in town tough enough to pull off pink socks and work for mobsters while remaining a loyal reader of my column.

He described his client as a man ruined by an ungrateful son, another informant witness, Frank Calabrese Jr. Junior was a drug addict who didn't want to go into the trucking business and who cared more about a tarty wife than his own father's love, Lopez said.

He pointed to his client, who allegedly strangled several people until their eyes popped out but who was so soft and kindly-looking in court, he could have been in a TV commercial for facial tissue.

"Who is this man in the powder blue suit who could be a cheese salesman from Wisconsin?" Lopez asked the jury about Frank Calabrese Sr.

Gentle Wisconsin cheese salesman? I wonder where he read that one.

Other highlights included the lists of the Outfit soldiers allegedly in on the 18 killings. And the repeated mention of Bridgeport hit man Ronnie Jarrett, who worked for Bridgeport trucking boss/mayoral favorite Michael Tadin and was the model for the James Caan crime classic "Thief."

Jarrett was gunned down in 1999, about the time that Twan was getting worried about the glove. Jarrett's murder is not included in this case.

"Unfortunately," said Lopez, arguing that his client was not involved in other murders, "people get killed for various reasons all the time."

"The truth," Lopez said, quoting a lyrical Italian proverb, "is somewhere between the clouds."

But I think it's in the evidence room of the Chicago Police Department.

----------



jskass@tribune.com

Copyright © 2007, Chicago Tribune

http://www.suntimes.com/news/mob/index.html

http://blogs.suntimes.com/mob/

2 Links with info from my favorite paper...

Jury gets Mob 101 lesson

By Jeff Coen
Tribune staff reporter
Published June 25, 2007, 3:53 PM CDT
The jury in the Family Secrets mob conspiracy case began hearing evidence today, with the government calling its first witness: James Wagner, president of the Chicago Crime Commission.

Wagner walked jurors through the history of organized crime in the city, from the time Al Capone unified the criminal underworld into a force that he controlled. Since then, the Chicago Outfit has held control of vice here, making money through prostitution, gambling, loan sharking and extortion, Wagner explained.

The mob took the money it made and used it to corrupt politicians and law enforcement, Wagner said. Eventually, the Chicago mob wormed its way into labor unions and Las Vegas casinos, he said.

Assistant U.S. Atty. Mitchell Mars asked whether the organization has survived and prospered to this day. "It certainly has," Wagner said.

Wagner was expected to be back on the stand this afternoon.

His testimony followed the final opening statements in the case by lawyers for defendants Paul Schiro and ex-Chicago police officer Anthony Doyle.

Doyle's lawyer, Ralph Meczyk, raised eyebrows in court by wheeling in an old pushcart once used by the city's Department of Streets and Sanitation. He pointed to the yellow cart and told jurors that Doyle once worked as a street sweeper and has always earned money through legitimate means. He said Doyle is involved in the case because he had friends who were connected and stayed committed to them.

When he was finished with his statement, Meczyk tossed a copy of the indictment against Doyle into the cart and told jurors that eventually they would decide that's where the document belongs.

Besides Doyle and Schiro, the accused are reputed mob boss Frank Calabrese Sr., Joey "the Clown" Lombardo and James Marcello. Lombardo, Marcello and Calabrese are in federal custody.

Schiro was convicted five years ago of taking part in a jewel theft ring run by the Chicago Police Department's former chief of detectives, William Hanhardt. All five have pleaded not guilty.



Copyright © 2007, Chicago Tribune

Jury sees 'street tax' video
Tape of reputed Outfit collector in action played at trial

By Jeff Coen
Tribune staff reporter
Published June 26, 2007, 10:27 PM CDT
Reputed mob "street-tax" collector Frank "the German" Schweihs thought someone was moving in on his territory, and he wasn't happy about it.

"I don't care who it is," Schweihs barked in a secretly recorded video played Tuesday at the Family Secrets trial. "If it's Al Capone's brother and he comes back reincarnated. This is a declared [expletive] joint."

Schweihs was being recorded by William "Red" Wemette, an adult-book store owner who worked undercover for the FBI while paying the Chicago Outfit $1,100 a month in street tax to continue in business on the North Side. Prosecutors have told jurors that the collection of street tax—the mob's price for allowing certain businesses to operate—was one of many ways the Chicago Outfit profited. In some of the grainy videos from the late 1980s played in court, Wemette could be seen counting out his tribute as Schweihs looked on.

Wemette's recordings, filled with curses and slang, played a role in Schweihs' conviction for extortion in 1989. In one, Schweihs talked about "making a believer" out of one of Wemette's competitors. Schweihs also said that a mobster to whom Wemette used to pay street tax had vanished to "open up a hot dog stand in Alaska."

Some jurors shot amazed looks at one another as recordings played in court on the second day of trial testimony.

Schweihs, who is too ill to stand trial, is alleged to have acted as muscle for reputed mob boss Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, one of five defendants on trial. Also being tried for racketeering conspiracy are reputed Outfit figures James Marcello, Frank Calabrese Sr. and Paul "the Indian" Schiro as well as former Chicago Police Officer Anthony Doyle.

In the recordings, Schweihs could be heard ranting when Wemette told him that an unknown man had been around his Wells Street porn shop inquiring about the owner.

Wemette, who no longer owns the shop, testified Tuesday that he had been put up to falsely telling Schweihs that a possible rival was paying visits to the store, all part of a ruse by investigators to draw a reaction from Schweihs.

"Tell him God is my [expletive] partner," Schweihs said in a gruff voice. Schweihs sometimes stood up and at other times remained in his seat as he continued to speculate about who could be attempting to lean on Wemette. "Maybe he's a [expletive] Rush Street gangster that's looking for something," Schweihs said. "[He's] gonna get something he ain't looking for."

Wemette raised the possibility that the individual could be related to the California supplier of his pornography. Schweihs laughed off that possibility.

No one would mess with a business connected to the Outfit in "Chicago's back yard," Schweihs said.

"Chicago has the worst reputation in the United States," Schweihs said in apparent reference to the Outfit, adding that even "New York doesn't want to come here to mess with us."

One Outfit rival had previously been warned to stay away from the shop, Schweihs said on the tape, allegedly using a nickname for Lombardo.

"Lumbo made it real [expletive] clear to him," Schweihs said.

Wemette could be heard laughing nervously as Schweihs continued to lose his temper.

"I'll be looking at the obituaries," Wemette said.

"Let's just say it's an act of God, whatever happens to him," Schweihs answered.

Defense lawyers are to cross-examine Wemette beginning Wednesday.

jcoen@tribune.com



Copyright © 2007, Chicago Tribune

Mafia boss's family feud led to murder conspiracy trial
CHICAGO: The family problems facing alleged Chicago loan shark Frank Calabrese Sr. make Tony Soprano's seem mild.

Calabrese and four other men are on trial in a Chicago mob case prosecutors have dubbed "Family Secrets." The government's key witnesses: Calabrese's son, Frank Jr., and his brother, Nicholas.

Prosecutors built parts of their case around secrets they say Frank Jr. and Nicholas helped spill. One of the other defendants even claims he is the victim of a dysfunctional family's feud.

Seventy-year-old Frank Sr. and the four other men — James Marcello, 65; Joseph (Joey the Clown) Lombardo, 78; Paul Schiro, 69, and Anthony Doyle, 62 — are charged with racketeering acts including 18 murders dating back to the 1970s and 1980s.

The enterprise, according to the indictment, is the Chicago Outfit, the city's organized crime family founded in the Prohibition Era by Al Capone.


All five defendants have sworn to fight the charges.

The proceedings got off to a surprising start last week during jury selection when word arrived concerning still another Calabrese relative.

Frank Sr.'s other son — Kurt — arrived at his home in the plush Chicago suburb of Kenilworth to find a plastic bag containing a digital clock, some wires and items resembling sticks of dynamite on his doorstep.

The bomb was a fake, and authorities have not said if they have any suspects.

The story of how the Calabreses started turning on one another traces back to 1995, when Frank Sr. and his two sons, Frank Jr. and Kurt, were charged with Uncle Nick in a federal loan-sharking indictment. All four pleaded guilty to roles in the family business.

"All I want to do is get my family back together," Frank Sr. told U.S. District Judge James Holderman, who sentenced him to almost 10 years in prison.

But it was while he was in prison that his family woes got worse.

Frank Jr. was in the same federal prison, at Milan, Michigan, and as the father and son walked around the exercise yard Frank Sr. allegedly spoke about some of the mob's darkest secrets — including long-unsolved murders.

Unknown to Frank Sr., his son was taping their conversations and jurors at the Family Secrets trial are expected to hear what was said.

Meanwhile, Nicholas was facing a murder charge and federal prosecutors were pressuring him to save himself and break the mob's code of silence.

Prosecutors allege that for a time Marcello was paying $4,000 a month to the jailed Nicholas's wife to buy his silence — especially about Marcello's alleged role in the murder in June 1986 of Tony "The Ant" Spilotro, once known as the Chicago Outfit's man in Las Vegas.

Nicholas eventually agreed to plead guilty and take the witness stand against his brother. As a so-called made guy who has taken the mob oath and goes back a long way, he appears to be in a position to tell secrets.

In his opening statement on behalf of Calabrese, attorney Joseph Lopez sought to discredit both Frank Jr. and Nicholas, hanging the family laundry out for the world to see.

Assistant U.S. Attorney John J. Scully told jurors in the government's opening statement about a specific technique Calabrese is alleged to have used when he murdered some victims. He would strangle them with a rope then cut their throats to make sure that they were dead, the prosecutor said.

The Calabrese family's roots are on Chicago's South Side, in the shadow of U.S. Cellular Field, home of the Chicago White Sox. Investigators say the neighborhood was a hotbed of the mob.

"Everybody knew everybody," says Lee Flosi of Quest Consultants International, a private company made up entirely of former FBI agents that conducts investigations for corporate and political clients.

"You especially knew who the wiseguys were — the cars they drove, the clothes they wore — they needed them to get the respect they had to have," says Flosi. He says Frank Sr. was long known to the FBI as the top loan shark for the mob's 26th Street Crew, also known as the Chinatown Crew.

FBI agents once ripped up the concrete in one of the White Sox stadium's parking lots, hoping to find the bones of murdered mob loan shark Michael "Hambone" Albergo.

Prosecutors say Frank Sr. and others murdered Albergo in August 1970. But agents were unable to find Albergo's remains under the parking lot.

In all, the indictment accuses Frank Sr. of 10 murders.

Taking note of the Calabrese family's woes, Marcello attorney Marc Martin said his client might not even be in court if not for their problems.

My client," he said, "got caught in the crosshairs of a dysfunctional family."

The Associated Press

Sleuth accused of mob links
THE OUTFIT | Witness says he was Hollywood private detective's henchman

June 28, 2007
BY STEVE WARMBIR Staff Reporter
A top Hollywood private investigator, Anthony Pellicano, now in jail battling charges he illegally wiretapped enemies of the rich and famous, worked under reputed top mobster Joseph "Joey the Clown" Lombardo three decades ago when Pellicano lived in Chicago, according to court testimony Wednesday.

Pellicano allegedly had a mob henchman, Alva Johnson Rodgers, blow up a Mount Prospect home and was upset when the man wouldn't torch a restaurant, according to Rodgers' testimony in the historic Family Secrets mob trial in Chicago.

Pellicano's mob past in Chicago has long been hinted at, but the trial on Wednesday offered the first public, detailed testimony on what Pellicano allegedly did when he was in Chicago.

Pellicano's attorney, Steven Gruel, could not be reached Wednesday but has rejected claims that his client was mobbed up.

Rodgers, 78, testified with a Texas twang as he described to jurors how he went from a petty car thief to hanging out with Outfit members after he befriended Chicago mobster Marshall Caifano when they were both in prison in the early 1970s.

Rodgers said he saw Pellicano with Lombardo several times.

Rodgers burned down a Mount Prospect home that no one was living in at the time after Pellicano paid him $5,000.

Another time, Rodgers said Pellicano wanted him to close down a Chicago restaurant after a woman who had invested in the place wasn't getting any return.

Rodgers hired some kids to knock out the windows but said he balked when Pellicano wanted him to burn it down because the place was open 24 hours a day.

Rodgers, who mainly stole cars, came under a withering grilling by Lombardo's attorney, Rick Halprin, who mocked his testimony.

"You were, if you pardon the expression, just a bust-out loser?" Halprin asked.

"Probably, yeah," Rodgers conceded.

But Rodgers added that he did do 11 years in prison for a bank robbery. "Is that heavy enough?"

"I'm glad you're not modest," Halprin said. "The bank robbery is probably the highlight of your career?"

"Well, sort of," Rodgers said.

Through his questions, Halprin mocked Rodgers' plan in the 1970s to take over the porn industry in Chicago.

Halprin asked how Rodgers could get the loans to buy millions of dollars of pornography.

"Based on your good credit, right?"

Witness says he worked in Outfit for Lombardo

By Jeff Coen
Tribune staff reporter
Published June 28, 2007
Alva Johnson Rodgers walked slowly into the Family Secrets trial Wednesday with a criminal record as long as his Texas drawl.

As Rodgers swore to tell the truth, he raised his left hand before quickly catching his mistake and thrusting his right hand into the air.

He's been in prison almost of third of his 78 years, Rodgers said with a hint of pride.

There were auto thefts in Arkansas, Arizona and California; a bank robbery in New Jersey; the counterfeiting case in New Orleans; fake stock certificates in Florida; and a plan to bring "a boatload" of marijuana from South America.

But he had never met a Chicago mobster until he helped free one from federal prison in Georgia. Rodgers, a jailhouse lawyer, said his legal research found a flaw in the sentence of his cellmate, reputed Outfit hit man Marshall Caifano.

"The Appellate Court believed us and turned him loose," Rodgers, testifying under immunity from prosecution, told a federal jury. Caifano didn't forget the favor, paying for the lawyer who was able to get Rodgers out too. It was 1973, and Rodgers was soon on his way to Chicago to start working for Caifano and his friends, including reputed mob boss Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, he said.

Detailing mob dealings

Lombardo and four others are on trial in an alleged conspiracy to carry out Outfit business that included 18 gangland slayings decades ago. Rodgers was called by the prosecution to tell what he knows about Lombardo's control over the mob.

Dressed in a dark suit, peach shirt and dark teal tie, the gray-haired Rodgers sometimes had to lean forward on the witness stand to hear questions. He was asked if he saw Lombardo in court Wednesday.

"Yeah, I see him. He just stood up," Rodgers said. Lombardo then sat back down, leaned forward and rested his chin on one hand, appearing to pay close attention.

Under questioning by Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully, Rodgers said his first memory of Lombardo was when Lombardo was promoted within the Outfit ahead of his friend Caifano. Soon he and Caifano were taking orders from Lombardo, Rodgers said. Rodgers said he sometimes drove Lombardo around town when Lombardo had a police scanner in his car. Once, he said, they realized they were listening to their police tail.

"Apparently, they considered him to be 'the Clown,' and me 'the Rabbit,' " Rodgers said. "We heard every word."

Within a year, Rodgers said, Lombardo allowed him and Caifano to try to take over the porn industry in Chicago. Rodgers said he opened a fictitious business to make peep-show booths and among the visitors were Lombardo and Lombardo's friend Anthony Pellicano, who went on to become a Hollywood private investigator who is awaiting trial in a highly publicized wiretapping case.

The peep-show business was located just a few blocks from a Catholic church, Rodgers said.

"When Lombardo found out about it, he came around and told me not to put the store there," Rodgers told jurors. He said he eventually was sent to to take a cut of the profits from a business being opened on North Wells Street by William "Red" Wemette who also testified against Lombardo this week.

Rodgers said he went on to give Lombardo the idea of setting fire to a rival's giant warehouse of pornography as part of the bid to take over the distribution in Chicago. Rodgers also said he set a house fire for Pellicano and delivered cryptic messages to movie production companies to "join the association."

A lawyer for Pellicano did not immediately return a call seeking comment on the allegations.

Claims contested

On cross-examination, Lombardo's lawyer, Rick Halprin, mocked Rodgers and his alleged connection to the reputed mob heavyweight. Rodgers again leaned forward to try to hear.

"I know I'm not the government, so maybe you should lean back," said Halprin, who then asked whether Rodgers was involved only in minor crimes.

"You were just a bust-out loser?" asked Halprin, quickly saying he meant no insult.

"I did 11 years in prison for that bank robbery," Rodgers said.

"I'm glad you're not modest," the lawyer shot back.

Halprin asked Rodgers where he was planning to get $2 million to replace the pornography he planned to destroy in the warehouse.

"Your good credit?" said Halprin, who feigned a talk Rodgers might have with a loan officer. "Oh, 'And I met Joey Lombardo in a sandwich shop?' "

Halprin scoffed at Rodgers' claim that his dealings with Wemette were on behalf of the mob. He suggested the two were just close friends and noted that Rodgers had once driven Wemette's car to California.

Even some jurors smiled as Rodgers said that had been a stolen car -- with Wemette's plates on it.

Also Wednesday, prosecutors played for jurors undercover audio recordings of Lombardo from a 1979 investigation into labor racketeer Allen Dorfman. Lombardo could be heard threatening the life of a casino owner who failed to repay a loan.

And defense lawyers cross-examined Wemette, who had testified about paying street tax to the Outfit from his adult bookstore. Halprin asked Wemette when he had given the FBI information on the sensational 1955 murders of young brothers John and Anton Schuessler and their friend Robert Peterson. In a bid to undercut Wemette's credibility, the defense brought out that Wemette claimed that Kenneth Hansen had confessed to the triple murder in 1968 and that he tipped off the FBI in 1971. Yet Hansen wasn't charged and convicted until the 1990s.

"The people I did speak to about it were really not interested in what I had to say." Wemette said.

Prosecutors repeatedly objected, and Halprin was forced to drop the matter.

----------

jcoen@tribune.com

Wife alleges mob role in husband's slaying

By Jeff Coen
Tribune staff reporter
Published June 28, 2007, 2:41 PM CDT
The former wife of a man allegedly gunned down because he planned to testify against reputed mob boss Joseph Lombardo gave a moment-by-moment account of his killing today in the Family Secrets trial.

The woman, identified in court as Emma Seifert, said her husband, Daniel, had been in fear in the weeks leading up to his death and had armed himself. Federal prosecutors have said Daniel Seifert was to testify in a labor pension fraud case against Lombardo, which was dropped after Daniel Seifert was killed.

Emma Seifert said that on Sept. 27, 1974, she arrived at work before 8:30 a.m. with her husband and her 4-year-old son, Joseph, who was with the couple because he wasn't feeling well. She said they went into their Bensenville business, and she began to make coffee as her husband set down some toys for their son and went back outside to the car.

Suddenly a door in the office burst open, and two men in ski masks jumped out, she said.

"Two men in ski masks came through with guns and they were pointing them at my son and myself," she said, being led through her account by Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully.

"I believe they said, 'This is a robbery, and where is . . .' and I don't know if they said my husband or 'that S.O.B,'" she said.

Daniel Seifert came back in, not knowing what was going on, she said, and was immediately struck with a gun and then chased outside. The next thing she knew, she and her son were being pushed into a bathroom at gunpoint by one of the men, she testified.

"He told me to be quiet, and not to worry," she said.

"Then I heard a gunshot, and the man left my side," she said. "Then I didn't hear anything for a few seconds."

The woman said she told Joseph to stay where he was, her voice breaking momentarily as she spoke to the courtroom. She said she looked around the corner out the front door of the business, and was able to catch a glimpse of her husband running across the parking lot of their office complex toward another building. Waiting in that direction was another man holding a sawed-off shotgun, she said.

He too was wearing a mask, she said. His weapon gave off a glint, she testified, leading her to believe it could have been nickel-plated. The woman said her husband made it to the neighboring building.

"That was the last time I saw him," she said, "running into the other business."

The woman testified that she believes one of the men that day was Joseph Lombardo, the man for whom her young son was named. "I can't say definitely, but I got the feeling that one of them was Joseph Lombardo," she testified.

"By his build, the way he moved," she said. "He was light on his feet. He was agile in his day. He was a boxer . . . And it just struck me that that was who it was."

Defense attorney Susan Shatz asked why the woman had never reported that before being interviewed by the FBI in 2003. Emma Seifert said she had told one agent in the weeks after the killing, but was unclear if that agent ever recorded what she said.

jcoen@tribune.com

Thanks DN this is one hell of a trial with plenty more to come!

I was going to post the raw video from the first week of the trial, however as I was converting it to mpg, the program crapped out. It may just be better if I try to produce it down.

Victim's widow implicates Lombardo
Witness testifies about 1974 murder

By Jeff Coen
Tribune staff reporter
Published June 29, 2007
Emma Seifert was a young mother preparing coffee at her husband's Bensenville business when two masked men burst through the office door, brandishing guns at her and her 4-year-old son.

More than three decades later, Seifert, a poised woman now in her early 60s, recounted those horrible moments for federal jurors Thursday as the Family Secrets trial ventured for the first time into the bloody details of one of the 18 gangland slayings at the heart of the landmark case.

"I believe they said, 'This is a robbery and where is' ... and I don't know if they said my husband or that S.O.B.," she testified in a calm, even voice.

Within minutes, her husband, Daniel Seifert, who was scheduled to testify against reputed mob boss Joey "The Clown" Lombardo, was chased down and fatally shot.

Jurors looked up from their note-taking at one point Thursday to view a large photo of Daniel Seifert's crumpled body lying in the grass outside his plastics firm.

In what is thought to be her first public comments on the 1974 murder in more than 30 years, Emma Seifert said she believes one of the gunmen was Lombardo, for whom her son was named. Lombardo and her husband had once been close friends.

Even though the gunmen wore masks, Seifert said she thought she recognized Lombardo "by his build, the way he moved."

"He was light on his feet," she testified. "He was agile in his day. He was a boxer."

But the defense questioned Seifert why she had never reported her suspicions about Lombardo's involvement until an FBI interview in 2003. She insisted she had told an agent in the weeks after her husband's death but wasn't sure if he wrote it down.

Seifert's voice dropped only when she talked about her son, Joseph, who was at his father's business that day because he was feeling ill. Now a grown man, he sat in the second row of the courtroom gallery and listened to his mother's testimony.

Lombardo listened intently too. He looked on as Seifert, dressed in a dark pantsuit, worked a laser pointer with an overhead projector to show where she stood in the office when the gunmen surprised her.

Lombardo looked up at the screen and over to Seifert and then sat scratching his head.

There had been warnings in the weeks and months leading up to the shooting, Seifert testified. A federal trial was just a few weeks away. Lombardo and several others were charged in a fraud case linked to the Central States Pension Fund of the Teamsters.

Among the defendants was Irwin Weiner, whom Seifert knew because Seifert had done carpentry work for him, Emma Seifert said. Weiner also had put up money for International Fiberglass, a company Seifert managed and one of the businesses to which investigators had traced fraudulent funds.

Daniel Seifert and Lombardo had a falling out and by late 1972 Seifert was fearful. Emma Seifert told jurors she had seen Lombardo drive slowly by their house as she stood waiting for her older son, Nick, to come home from school.

"I told [Daniel] they had driven by," she said. "He told me to keep the children inside and keep the doors locked, to get a gun and he was going to call the police."

Ronald Seifert, Daniel's brother, testified Thursday that Daniel told him that he had told Lombardo he was cooperating with the government in the case. At one point, Lombardo called him, Ronald Seifert told jurors.

"He said I'd better straighten Danny out, or 'You know what's going to happen to him,' " Seifert said.

Seifert said he told his brother about the call, but it didn't matter.

"He said, 'To hell with them, I'm gonna testify against them,' " Seifert said.

But he never got the chance.

Emma Seifert testified that she screamed when the gunmen rushed into the office, but her husband was returning from their car and didn't hear her cry out. He was knocked down when one of the assailants hit him with a gun, she said.

The courtroom grew still as Seifert described what happened next. She and her son were pushed into a bathroom at gunpoint by one of the men, she said.

"He told me to be quiet and not to worry," she said.

"Then I heard a gunshot, and the man left my side," she said. "Then I didn't hear anything for a few seconds."

Seifert's voice broke momentarily as she recalled telling Joseph to stay put. Seifert said she looked out the front door and caught a glimpse of her husband running across the parking lot toward another building. Waiting there was another gunman, holding a sawed-off shotgun, she said.

He, too, wore a mask, she said. His gun gave off a glint, leading her to believe it could have been nickel-plated, she said.

Seifert said her husband made it to the neighboring building.

"That was the last time I saw him," she said under questioning by Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully.

Arriving for work was Ken Norten, who also testified Thursday. He said he heard a shot and looked up to see a man running around a building across the street and in his direction.

"There was another gunshot, and he grabbed at his knee," Norten said.

Seifert fell, Norten said, and a gunman ran up from behind.

"He pointed his shotgun at him and stood right above him and shot him," Norten said.

Seifert's brother, Ronald, backed up Emma Seifert's testimony that she had told people at the time that Lombardo was involved in the killing.

"What she told me is that she knew it was Joey that held her in the washroom," Seifert said, "her and her son, Joey."

The defense did not cross-examine the witnesses who followed Norten, including those who talked about the two cars the gunmen apparently drove from the scene.

They left one at a car dealership and outran police in a powder blue-and-white Dodge Challenger.

The one left behind was a brown Ford LTD outfitted with a quick-change license plate holder, switches to kill the brake lights, heavy shocks, a police scanner and even a siren. Also found in the car were two ski masks like those worn by the gunmen.

Prosecutors have said they can link that car to Lombardo through a fingerprint they allegedly found on the title certificate filed for the car.

Some of that evidence is expected to come into the trial next week, at which point Emma Seifert's sons said they will speak more openly about their father and his killing.

As they left court Thursday, they stopped only long enough to say they were proud of their mom.

"She held up," Nick Seifert said. "It was a lot of strain and stress."

----------

jcoen@tribune.com

Donatello -

Thanks so much for providing us with these daily updates.

A very interesting case here.

Not a problem.

But wait!! There's more...

Bookie mum at mob trial, jailed for contempt

By MIKE ROBINSON
AP Legal Affairs Writer
Published July 2, 2007, 7:09 PM CDT
CHICAGO -- A convicted bookie was abruptly jailed Monday at the trial of five reputed Chicago mobsters after refusing to say whether he ever paid extortion money known as "street tax" to one of the defendants.

"I respectfully refuse to testify," Joel Glickman, 71, of Highland Park said repeatedly despite federal Judge James B. Zagel's warnings that he had received immunity and his continued silence could land him behind bars.

When Glickman proved stubborn, Zagel made good on his promise -- holding him in civil contempt of court and ordering him jailed.

"I'm going to order Mr. Glickman to be taken into custody forthwith," Zagel said. Husky federal marshals then escorted Glickman to the lockup.

Attorneys said he could be held there for the duration of the trial expected to last all summer and into the fall.

Behind the scenes Monday morning, Zagel had given Glickman immunity from prosecution for anything he might say on the witness stand.

Specifically, Glickman was asked if he had ever paid "street tax" to convicted loan shark Frank Calabrese Sr., one of the five reputed mob bosses and followers now on trial on racketeering conspiracy charges.

Prosecutors have told jurors that mobsters extort money, or "street tax," from adult bookstores, bookies and other shady business operations.

One former pornography shop proprietor, who unknown to the mob was an FBI informant for decades, testified he feared he had to pay or be killed.

Glickman was convicted of bookmaking in 1976 and sent to prison for two years. Glickman lawyer Loraine Ray refused to comment on his jailing.

Calabrese attorney Joseph Lopez told reporters his client and Glickman have not had a relationship since the 1960s or early 1970s at the latest.

"The man made a decision," Lopez said. "Why he made the decision I don't know. But it's his decision. Maybe we'll find out more tomorrow."

Before sending him off to spend the night behind bars, Zagel told Glickman: "You can end your confinement simply by notifying authorities that you are willing to testify."

With that, Glickman was led away.

The five men on trial are charged with a racketeering conspiracy that includes 18 murders, illegal gambling, extortion and loan sharking.

Much of Monday's testimony focused on the Sept. 27, 1974, murder of businessman Daniel Seifert, 29, who had promised federal prosecutors that he would testify against reputed mob boss Joseph (Joey the Clown) Lombardo in a fraud case. He was shot to death before he could get to the stand.

Seifert's widow and brother already have told the current trial that Lombardo, now 78 and one of the defendants, had threatened the youthful businessman.

Prosecutors concentrated Monday on what they believe were two getaway cars used in the shotgun killing outside Seifert's Bensenville office.

Police, responding to a radio flash about the fleeing killers, closed in on two suspected getaway cars in an Elmhurst parking lot. One of the cars, a Ford LTD, was abandoned. The other, a Dodge Challenger, got away.

Two FBI experts testified that a print from the little finger on Lombardo's left hand was discovered on the LTD's vehicle registration application filed with the secretary of state's office in Springfield.

The car was registered to a security service at an address where friends of Lombardo's ran a dry cleaning store, federal prosecutors said.

Three witnesses said they believed Lombardo bought a police radio scanner found in the abandoned car from a store where they were employed.

Another witness, Francis A. Mack, testified that the Challenger had come from his brother's Dodge dealership. He said the car vanished from the lot overnight but that, pressed by authorities, he was able to find papers showing that it had been sold to a Henry Corona with a Chicago address.

Former FBI agent Michael Byrne said he went to the address days after the killing and found no Henry Corona living there.

But the retired operator of another dry cleaning store, Frank Mendoza, said he owned the apartment building at the address and was a boyhood friend of Frank Schweihs, a Lombardo associate charged in the indictment.

Schweihs, alleged to be an extortionist who shook down adult bookstores and strip clubs as a member of Lombardo's Grand Avenue street crew, has serious medical problems and is not being tried at this time.





Copyright © 2007, The Associated Press

Associated Press reports...


Wasn't too keen about the Ford LTD, but I wondered whether or not that Challenger might have become a collector car (although I think Chrysler had dumped the big block 400+ ci hemi in favor of a smaller V-8 by that time)...

...if it didn't get the torch and chop shop treatment...

tony b.

On capturing video I came across this link that was discussed:
U.S. Attorney's exhibits in the "Family Secrets" mob trial.

http://www.usdoj.gov/usao/iln/

Reputed mobster's son recalls growing up in the family business

By MIKE ROBINSON
AP Legal Affairs Writer
Published July 3, 2007, 6:39 PM CDT
CHICAGO -- The eldest son of reputed mob boss Frank Calabrese Sr. on Tuesday told a jury a nightmarish story of how loan sharking, extortion, beatings and even a firebombing all were just part of the family business.

Frank Calabrese Jr., 47, took the stand as one of the government's two star witnesses at the trial of his father and four other men charged with running the Chicago Outfit for decades as a racketeering conspiracy.

Tapes he secretly made of conversations with his father while the two men were in prison together are expected to be a highlight of the trial.

On the first day of his expected weeklong testimony, however, the younger Calabrese mainly focused on the agony of life with a mob father.

"He pulled out a gun and stuck it in my face and told me, 'I'd rather have you dead than disobey me,"' Calabrese said, telling of a session in an Elmwood Park garage where the father kept cars with bogus titles.

"I started crying, I started hugging and kissing him," the son said.

Calabrese admitted he had angered his father by stealing $600,000 to $800,000 in cash from him, investing $200,000 of it in a restaurant and squandering the rest on vacations and his cocaine addiction.

"I blew all the money, I spent it wildly," he admitted.

He said he was initiated into the world of organized crime as a teen. His father had him and his uncle, Nicholas Calabrese, collect $3,000 to $5,000 in quarters from peep shows at an adult bookstores and skim $300 a week before turning in the rest to a man he knew only as Vito.

When Vito started putting dabs of colored paint on the quarters to test for skimming, he came in for a slapping around from the elder Calabrese, the witness testified. He said his father told him Vito also was paying him $1,800 a month in "street tax" to keep doing business.

Street tax is a mob expression for extortion payments, much the same as the old-fashioned protection money mobsters forced businesses to pay.

Convicted bookie Joel Glickman was held in contempt and jailed by U.S. District Judge James B. Zagel on Monday after being granted immunity from prosecution and still refusing to say if he paid street tax to Calabrese.

Glickman remained in federal custody Tuesday night.

The younger Calabrese testified that his father once took him to a garage owned by a business associate "who had not met his obligations to us." Once they arrived, the son said, his father gave him a box stuffed with newspapers and soaked in a mixture of gasoline and kerosene.

He testified that on instructions from his father he leaned the box against the garage and inserted a lighted flare. They then drove away.

The younger Calabrese said his father later told him he had returned to the site and that "the fire department was there -- it was a success."

Eventually, he said, his father had him keeping records involving the money the mob took in through gambling, loan sharking and extortion. But in 1997, both men were among several members of the 26th Street or Chinatown crew imprisoned for loan sharking.

It was while they were in a federal prison in Milan, Mich., that the son agreed to cooperate with law enforcement officials and make tapes of things his father said while the two of them strolled the prison yard.

Among other things, the father allegedly told the son which members of the Chicago Outfit were "made guys" and who was responsible for a number of long-unsolved mob murders, including that of Tony "The Ant" Spilotro.

Spilotro, once known as the Chicago mob's man in Las Vegas, inspired the Joe Pesci character in the movie "Casino." He and his brother, Michael, were beaten to death and buried in an Indiana cornfield in 1986.

After court, Calabrese attorney Joseph Lopez told reporters he could not comment on why the younger man turned against his father but said the motive would become obvious on cross examination.

Lopez did say his client was "happy to see his son -- he hasn't seen him in a long time."

Asked how the elder Calabrese felt about the role his son, who now manages a deli carryout in Arizona, is playing at the trial, Lopez said: "It's very difficult for any parent to see his child testify against him."

The government's other star witness is expected to be Frank Calabrese Sr.'s brother, Nicholas, who has pleaded guilty, admitted his role in the murder of a fellow mobster, and agreed to testify in exchange for a break when he is sentenced.

Son testifies against reputed-mobster dad
'He pulled out a gun and stuck it in my face'

By Jeff Coen
Tribune staff reporter
Published July 4, 2007
Frank Calabrese Jr. had barely introduced himself and testified that he lettered in football at Holy Cross High School before his father sneered and leaned over to whisper into his lawyer's ear.

The start of his testimony Tuesday was one of the most anticipated moments of the trial -- code named Family Secrets because defendant Frank Calabrese Sr.'s son and brother had done the unthinkable, squealing on a reputed mob brother and blood relative.

The 47-year-old Calabrese Jr., stricken with multiple sclerosis, limped into court on a cane, taking the witness stand a mere 10 yards from his father. Even though Calabrese Sr. swiveled his chair for a direct look at his son, the two did not appear to make eye contact.

He was on the stand for just 45 minutes before jurors were sent home for the holiday, but Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully led the younger Calabrese through a quick personal history: how he joined the family's mob business as just a high schooler and now operates a pizza joint.

He said he's been living near Phoenix running a strip-mall restaurant that serves pizza "Chicago style."

The balding Calabrese testified in a white casual shirt with thin green stripes, his remaining hair buzzed close. He leaned into the microphone to answer each question and occasionally paused to take sips from a water bottle.

Early induction

Calabrese testified he was a teenager when he joined the 26th Street crew, collecting quarters from peep-show booths in mob-controlled pornography shops with his uncle Nicholas.

It is Nicholas Calabrese, Frank Calabrese Sr.'s brother, who is expected later in the trial to implicate his brother in as many as 13 decades-old gangland slayings.

Eventually, Calabrese Jr. said, he graduated to keeping the books -- gambling, juice-loan and street-tax records -- with his father.

Once, Calabrese said, his father took him along when he slapped around an associate nicknamed "Peachy" for spending Outfit gambling money. Another time, his father had him use a flare to ignite kerosene against the garage of someone who wasn't following orders.

"He wasn't taking care of his obligations to us," Calabrese said.

The elder Calabrese, 70, sat with a sarcastic smile through much of the testimony, talking repeatedly to his lawyer, Joseph Lopez. His son appeared to focus mostly on the prosecutor asking questions from a few feet away. In the son's brief time Tuesday on the witness stand, no mention was made of the hidden recording device Calabrese wore to secretly tape conversations with his father while the two were imprisoned in Michigan in the 1990s.

That promises to be the highlight of the son's testimony in the trial's coming days.

But Calabrese revealed how his relationship with his father soured.

Calabrese said he was moving from job to job and using powder cocaine when he went to one of his father's hiding spots and stole $200,000 in cash to help open a Lake Street restaurant. Later, he went back for hundreds of thousands of dollars more, he said.

"I blew all the money," he said. "I just would spend it all wildly."

On discovering the thefts, his father slapped him and threatened him, Calabrese testified. At one point, his father drove him to an Elmwood Park garage where Outfit "work cars" were kept.

"He pulled out a gun and stuck it in my face and said, 'I'd rather have you dead than disobey me,'" Calabrese said. "I started crying. I started hugging and kissing him.

"I said, 'Help me. Help me do the right thing,'" he said.

After court Tuesday, Lopez, the elder Calabrese's lawyer, told reporters that his client had not been fazed by the son's testimony.

"He's happy to see his son," Lopez said.

Asked why the elder Calabrese appeared to be smiling during parts of his son's testimony, Lopez replied, "He's a happy-go-lucky fellow."

Extortion alleged

But another government witness Tuesday painted a starkly different portrait of the elder Calabrese. James Stolfe, the soft-spoken co-founder of the well-known Connie's Pizza restaurant chain, said he made "extortion payments" to Frank Calabrese Sr. and the Chicago Outfit for 20 years beginning in the 1980s.

Stolfe said he sold his 1962 Oldsmobile Starfire to buy his first Connie's location on West 26th Street near Chinatown, and he operated for nearly two decades before the mob paid a visit. Stolfe said he thought the two men, one large and one small, were salesmen, but he quickly learned differently.

Stolfe didn't have time to talk, he said he told them.

"They said, 'Find time,'" he said.

The two demanded $300,000 -- or else, Stolfe testified. "They said that it was no joke, and if I didn't pay that I was gonna get hurt," he said.

Stolfe said he went to Calabrese, whom he knew from the Bridgeport neighborhood where the two had grown up, to intercede on his behalf. Strangely enough, Stolfe said, Calabrese had just been to his office for the first time in years, the only hint in Tuesday's testimony that Calabrese was in on the extortion from the beginning.

Calabrese said he would see what he could do, Stolfe said, and soon said the payment "only" had to be $100,000.

Fearing that he could be beaten or his business burned down, Stolfe said, he agreed to pay. He said he handed over the first payment of $50,000 cash to Calabrese.

That prompted the prosecutor to ask Stolfe if he saw Calabrese in the courtroom.

Calabrese, in a gray jacket over a black shirt, didn't stand up but stuck up a hand and waved toward the witness stand as Stolfe pointed him out.

The white-haired Stolfe, 67, said he confided in only his close associate, Donald "Captain D" DiFazio, about the payoffs, keeping even his wife in the dark.

Stolfe said he eventually put Calabrese on the payroll as a "spotter," ostensibly to keeptrack of pizza delivery trucks. In reality, it was to hide the monthly payoffs of about $1,000.

Stolfe acknowledged Tuesday that he had lied to a grand jury investigating Calabrese in 1990, concealing the nature of the payoffs to Calabrese and his relationship with the reputed mobster. He told jurors Tuesday that he had been intimidated by Calabrese.

Stolfe said Calabrese even invited himself on his family vacations.

On cross-examination, attorney Lopez tried to portray the two as pals.

"Did anyone put a gun to your head and say you had to go play handball with him?" Lopez asked.

The attorney pointed out that when Stolfe halted the payoffs in 2002 when the Family Secrets investigation became public, no one burned down a Connie's Pizza restaurant. Prosecutors also called DiFazio to the stand, who testified that he carried the payoffs to the mob for years. For the final payoffs, DiFazio said, he gave the cash-filled envelopes to Frank Calabrese Jr., who was already wearing a wire for the feds.

DiFazio, testifying with a gravelly voice and heavy Chicago accent, said he is still director of special events for Connie's.

"I'm supposed to be at Taste of Chicago," he said.

"Another tough guy"

He said he still lives in Bridgeport and described each mob figure he testified about as "another tough guy."

He said he was once confronted by Anthony "Tony the Hatch" Chiaramonti when Connie's sought to open a location in Lyons. Those plans were scrapped, DiFazio said.

"The name speaks for itself," he said of Chiaramonti, who was gunned down at a chicken restaurant in the suburb in 2001.

On cross-examination, Lopez sometimes made small talk with DiFazio, who wore an expensive-looking suit. The attorney, who had exchanged his trademark pink socks for red ones Tuesday to match a blazing red tie, said he had heard DiFazio is a sharp dresser.

"You were a tough guy, too, weren't you?" Lopez asked. "The whole neighborhood was filled with tough guys."

DiFazio finally gave in.

"Absolutely," he said.

----------



jcoen@tribune.com

i know its not about the outfit but here goes anyway

Mafia puts Conrad Black in the shade

Media baron Conrad Black's fate is hanging in the balance, as the jury consider whether he is guilty of fraud and what the US authorities call "racketeering".


Conrad Black could go to jail for the rest of his life

But while the former chief executive of the Hollinger press empire waits to hear whether he will go to jail, a new trial has begun in the same court building.

Four former mafia bosses stand accused of a lifetime of involvement in organised crime.

They are all in their 60s and 70s. The oldest - Joey "the Clown" Lombardo - is 78.

The offences alleged include 18 murders.

The trial has been dubbed Family Secrets by the US press, because two of the key witnesses are the son and brother of one of the accused.

It's a landmark case, according to Jim Wagner, president of the Chicago Crime Commission, because of the sheer number of crimes of which the men stand accused.

Media split

The American media have turned up in force to cover the Family Secrets trial, which is taking place on the 25th floor of the dark skyscraper which houses the Federal courts in Chicago.


Joey Lombardo is the oldest defendant in the mob trial

Meanwhile, the Canadian and British media wait outside the Conrad Black trial courtroom 13 floors below.

Most British newspapers have a reporter in Chicago to cover that verdict, whenever it comes. The Canadian media are even more heavily represented.

Conrad Black was born into a wealthy Canadian family and rapidly built his own business empire. He and his business partner, David Radler, took over numerous Canadian newspapers.

They then took control of the ailing Telegraph newspapers in Britain, giving Conrad Black a position of real influence in British politics.

He was made a British peer in 2001 and gave up his Canadian citizenship, to the consternation of some Canadians.

Curious connection

Lord Black finds himself on trial in Chicago because the company he built up, Hollinger International, was based in the city.

The accusation against him is that he defrauded company shareholders out of millions of dollars, by taking fees which were not properly authorised by the board of directors.


Canadian and UK media await the Black trial's outcome

David Radler has pleaded guilty to a single charge in return for a sentence of 29 months in jail, of which he is only likely to serve six months.

He gave evidence against Lord Black, but was attacked by defence lawyers as a "serial liar".

The most serious charge against Lord Black is racketeering, which carries a penalty of up to 20 years in jail.

The prosecution claim that he ran Hollinger International as a "criminal enterprise" as defined by Rico - the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organization Act. This US law was introduced as a way of prosecuting organised crime families.

So there is a curious connection between the two big trials in Chicago. Alleged murderers and mobsters are on trial on the 25th floor. A former media mogul is on trial on the 12th floor, under a law designed to prosecute the mob.

Lord Black is 62 - and if found guilty of racketeering and other offences, he could spend the rest of his life behind bars.

It is the same fate as that which awaits the alleged murderers in the court upstairs.

By Nils Blythe
Business reporter, BBC News, Chicago

'Made' in the Chicago mob
Undercover tape details Outfit initiation ceremony, and reputed mobster's son tells jurors why he decided to turn on his dad

By Liam Ford
Tribune staff reporter
Published July 10, 2007
In one of the first undercover tapes played at the Family Secrets trial, a speaker identified as reputed mob boss Frank Calabrese Sr. recounted for his son the ceremony at which Outfit members become "made."

The underboss, the Outfit's second-in-command, and capos, who led the street crews, initiated new members one by one, cutting their fingers and then burning a holy picture in their hands, the elder Calabrese said in the 1999 conversation. The bosses checked out if anyone flinched in pain, according to the tape played Monday in court. Candidates had to have a murder under their belt.

"You know what I regret more than anything?" said Calabrese, accused by prosecutors in 13 gangland slayings. "Burning the holy pictures in my hand. That bothers me."

In his first full day on the witness stand, Calabrese's son, Frank Jr., who identified his father on the tape, testified about murder and intimidation as his father glowered at him from under furrowed brows, his chin jutting forward in defiance at times and amusement at other times.

The younger Calabrese, dressed in an unbuttoned blue, red and white polo shirt, largely avoided his father's gaze, looking straight ahead as he responded to the questions of a federal prosecutor, often pushing out his lower lip and knitting together his eyebrows in the same manner as his father.

For the first time, Calabrese told why he had turned his back on his father and wore a hidden recorder for the feds as the two talked in a federal prison.

When the younger Calabrese was about to go to prison in the loan-sharking case, he said, he had a meeting at his attorney's office that his father unexpectedly attended. Calabrese had violated his bond by taking drugs, and his father made him promise to go clean, he said.

"Promise me you'll never do drugs again" and be "a good person," the older Calabrese told him, the son testified

At the same time, Calabrese asked his father to "semiretire" from the Outfit, and "he said he would," the son testified.

After he went to prison, the younger Calabrese said he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, leading him to decide to indeed change his criminal ways. But Calabrese said he realized his father never intended to reform.

Switching sides

The younger Calabrese said he contacted federal authorities from prison and offered to cooperate. Now he is one of the government's star witnesses at the trial of the senior Calabrese, 70, reputed mob figures Joey "the Clown" Lombardo, James Marcello and Paul "the Indian" Schiro as well as Anthony Doyle, a former Chicago police officer. At the heart of the prosecution are 18 long-unsolved murders.

In an undercover tape played in court Monday, the elder Calabrese expressed some regrets at being made a full-fledged member of the Outfit in the secret ceremony years earlier. On the tape, the elder Calabrese said he told his sponsor, Angelo LaPietra, boss of the 26th Street crew in the early to mid-1980s, that "I didn't want it."

"I would be strapped down and if I wanted to do something else, I couldn't," Calabrese was heard on the tape telling his son.

The elder Calabrese told his son that to qualify, a made member had to have committed at least one murder, though the initiation could take place years later, the son said.

But the elder Calabrese gave plaudits to Mario Puzo, author of the "Godfather," saying the book's depiction of the making ceremony was "very close" to the real thing, his son said.

Calabrese told jurors that his father and his uncle, Nicholas Calabrese, had confided to him years earlier the details of how brothers Anthony and Michael Spilotro had been killed in one of the Outfit's most infamous murders.

Nicholas Calabrese is expected to testify for the government, implicating his brother, Frank Sr. in as many as 13 murders. The cooperation of the elder Calabrese's brother and son led to the code name for the federal investigation, Operation Family Secrets.

In the mid-1980s, the Outfit was unhappy with Anthony Spilotro's handling of its interests in Nevada, and Nicholas Calabrese and John Fecarotta went out to Las Vegas to kill Anthony Spilotro and someone else, the younger Calabrese testified.

They were unsuccessful, but while they were there, Fecarotta won a lot of money while gambling. Casino records placed Nicholas Calabrese there for the Las Vegas trip. The two older Calabreses were furious when they learned of the records because Nicholas Calabrese and Fecarotta had killed another Outfit associate - - whose name Calabrese Jr. said he could not remember - - while they were in Las Vegas.

When the first attempt to kill Anthony Spilotro failed, members of the Outfit decided to bring the Spilotro brothers to Chicago, under the pretense of initiating Michael Spilotro as a "made" member, Calabrese Jr. said. The Spilotros were led to a Chicago-area home and to the basement, where "a whole bunch of guys" surrounded them, he testified.

The brothers were strangled, and beaten to death as some of the Outfit members held their legs, he said. The older Calabreses told him that "Michael didn't put up much of a struggle," but Anthony Spilotro struggled and warned those who were killing him, "You guys are going to get in trouble!" Calabrese Jr. testified.

Nicholas Calabrese later shot Fecarotta to death because Fecarotta was assigned to bury the Spilotros' bodies, which were discovered in an Indiana cornfield, but Nicholas himself was wounded in the hit, Calabrese Jr. testified. When his uncle recovered, he asked Calabrese Jr., at the time a supervisor at the Chicago Department of Sewers, to retrieve the gun used in the shooting from a sewer where Nicholas Calabrese had dumped it. The younger Calabrese said he arranged it so his work crew carried out repairs in the area where the gun was dumped. Under the pretense of cleaning the sewer, Calabrese found the gun and returned it to his uncle, he testified.

Jurors and defendants alike paid rapt attention to much of the testimony Monday, even when Calabrese Jr. detailed high-interest juice loans, street taxes on businesses and other Outfit operations.

Brief laughs

The serious atmosphere of the courtroom was broken only a few times, including once when Calabrese Sr. decided to get up to leave the courtroom for a restroom in the middle of his son's testimony. The elder Calabrese, who is in custody, went to a bathroom in a lockup hidden from the view of jurors.

A few minutes later, outside the jury's presence, Judge James Zagel admonished the defendants that they were allowed to leave for a restroom break during testimony, but by doing so they waived their constitutional right to be present for testimony.

Lombardo, whose nickname of "the Clown" has long matched his history of colorful antics, piped up: "I go pretty often, judge!" drawing laughter from the packed courtroom.

Much of Calabrese's testimony Monday dealt with the minutiae of Outfit life, such as how he spoke in code with his father, how juice loans were calculated and his work with his uncle in enforcing bans on illegal activity in parts of the Chicago area without Outfit approval.

Calabrese Sr. also told his son, in one of their taped conversations played Monday, that federal authorities did not always know who were actual members of the Outfit. Asked by Assistant U.S. Atty. John Scully whether that meant that the Outfit had "sleepers" who worked almost exclusively behind the scenes, Calabrese said, "Yes."

The only other testimony Monday came from Joel Glickman, a former mob-connected sports bookmaker who previously had refused to testify, despite being given immunity from prosecution, and had been jailed for contempt. After a week in jail, Glickman decided to testify after all. He said he took out a juice loan for his boss at an insurance company from Calabrese Sr.

OUTFIT ETIQUETTE

DO:
--Ask for permission when starting a new criminal racket.
--Always obey your capo (street crew boss).
--Put the Outfit above everything, including family and God.


DON'T:
--Take drugs.
--Steal from the Outfit.
--Talk of the Outfit to anyone outside the organization.


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lford@tribune.com

Donatello Noboddi, thanks for continuing to post very interesting articles on the trial!