Yes your right, what I have read Salvie loved his father.

Ok I will ask him and get it up by tomorrow if he approves. Regarding Phil and Salvie I have read they were close too and that Salvie had so much venom in him because of the way his father died ( understandably so). Also I have read that Phil was every bit as violent as Nicky Scarfo and often had people whacked behind Bruno's back when he was underboss.

I have the Wall Street article. It's really no big deal. Am i allowed to post it here?

Sal Testa was a killer. Probably killed more people then Scarfo did himself. He could of given Scarfo a run for his money if he wanted to go to war with him. Scarfo lived at his mothers apartment building in AC. Salvie should of ambushed him right there. Kind of surprised nobody tried to hit the little guy there. Riccobene or Testa could of clipped him there. As far as i know Nicky didn't have body guards with him 24/7. and wasn't Phil in Margate or Ventnor?

But instead Salvie got it in the back of the head in his finest tennis whites by that little slime ball Wayne Grande. And then he had the honor of being hogtied and dumped in the weeds in jersey. The guy should of gone out guns blazing!

When i say that Sal Testa killed as many or more then Scarfo of course i mean actually killings each did themselves not the amount of hits that Scarfo ordered while he was boss. Just wanted to make that point clear. But whatever the numbers are Sal Testa was a killing machine himself. That guys belt had many notches on it. He knew he was on Scarfo's hitlist and he should of gone down guns blazing. Not shot in the head from behind in a south philly candy store. Testa was better then that. He knew the moves.

Salvie testa killed at least 15 guys if not more. one time he actually scared a guy so bad that the guy committed suicide so he was ruthless

Yup, that was Enrico Riccobene. I think he was Mario's son.

I think it was Testa, Leonetti, Iannarella and Larry Merlino that were outside his jewelry store so he went into the stores vault and shot himself in the head. Pretty sad actually.

Iv'e always been fascinated by Leonetti, in his interviews he's so softly spoken and non-menacing, though in reality a ruthless killer, I no its a cliche about not fitting a stereotype but...

Do you mean he personally killed at least 15? I think it was more like 3 or 5 or so, wasn't it?

I'm not sure the amount but i know he was an experienced hitman. I mean i pretty sure he killed more than 3 or 5 but i'm not sure

Ya ur right Leonetti sounds like an ok guy in interviews but he killed a lot of guys and he was pretty crazy from what i have heard. Ddidn't he put a knife to his girlfriends throat just for kicks

Ok guys here it is.

Copyright 1984 Factiva, a Dow Jones and Reuters Company
All Rights Reserved


(Copyright (c) 1984, Dow Jones & Co., Inc.)

The Wall Street Journal

April 19, 1984 Thursday

LENGTH: 1790 words

HEADLINE: Family Matters: A 28-Year-Old Is Said To Be Heir to Top Job In Philadelphia Mafia --- Salvatore Testa Has Knack Of Surviving Gunshots;
A Clean Police Record --- Did a Jeweler Die of Fright?

BYLINE: By Paul A. Engelmayer, Staff Reporter of The Wall Street Journal

BODY:


PHILADELPHIA -- With more than 70 commendations for bravery, heroism and valor, 40-year-old Michael Chitwood is the most decorated police officer in this city's history. Still, he says, he fears one man: a 28-year-old former real-estate salesman with a clean police record.

The man's name is Salvatore Testa. And according to Mr. Chitwood, who left the Philadelphia Police Department in 1983 to become the chief of police in nearby Middletown Township, "He gives you that look like he might rip your jugular vein out."

More to the point, according to the 1983 report of the Pennsylvania Crime Commission, Salvatore Testa is a member of the Mafia. Indeed, crime-commission members now say that Mr. Testa is the fastest-rising star in Philadelphia's organized-crime family. At an age when many people are just starting to climb a career ladder, Mr. Testa is said by law-enforcement agencies to be on the brink of controlling this city's Mafia -- a job usually held by men twice his age.

It is no small job. According to the crime commission, the Philadelphia Mafia's drug-dealing, loan-sharking, racketeering and gambling operations bring in several hundred million dollars a year. Much of that activity is centered in the coveted Atlantic City market, which the Philadelphia mob shares with the New York Mafia.

Crime-commission investigations show the Philadelphia mob, mostly through "straw owners," controls a significant number of legitimate businesses, including about 100 local restaurants and dozens of bars. It also operates jewelry shops, trucking outfits, vending operations, game arcades, construction and cement companies, janitorial concerns, beer distributorships and other businesses with heavy cash flows that allow behind-the-scenes owners to siphon off an estimated several hundred million dollars annually.

In size, the Philadelphia mob "competes with the largest corporations in the area. The tax loss (to government) is horrendous," says the commission's executive director, Wallace P. Hay. He estimates that between 5% and 10% of an average Philadelphian's weekly expenditures are ultimately channeled back to the mob.

Partly because of his youth, partly because of his exploits and largely because of his uncanny ability to survive gunshots, Salvatore Testa is certainly the mob's most celebrated figure these days. A handsome, stocky 6-footer, he has appeared numerous times on the front pages of local papers. In 1980, in an incident police say wasn't mob-related, Mr. Testa was shot in the groin and leg after an argument outside of a South Philadelphia restaurant. He made his front-page debut in August 1982 after he was shot eight times at close range at an outdoor market in South Philadelphia and left for dead. He survived, but two gunmen were caught and convicted. He dodged another assassination attempt several months ago. Mr Testa has been on the other end of the gun also and is believed by law enforcement to have personally killed at least 15 people.

Mr. Testa's father, Philip ("Chicken Man"), headed the mob here for a year before being blown up in March 1981 by a nail bomb planted on his front porch. The junior Mr. Testa wouldn't be interviewed for this article. But his attorney, Robert F. Simone, strongly denies that Salvatore Testa is a mobster, emphasizing his clean police record. "I don't think there's any evidence that he's done anything wrong," says Mr. Simone, who maintains his client gets a bad rap because of his father's reputation. "The evidence is that his last name is Testa. Guilt by association is what it boils down to." Mr. Simone speculates that the gunmen who shot Mr. Testa may have been aiming for someone else.

Still, the crime commission and the Federal Bureau of Investigation have identified Salvatore Testa as a capo, or deputy, to Nicodemo "Little Nicky" Scarfo, 55, reputedly the current boss of the Philadelphia Mafia. And to local lawmen, Chicken Man's son symbolizes a new, swaggering breed of mobster that has become dominant in recent years.

The change dates from March 1980, when 69-year-old Angelo Bruno, the "Gentle Don" of Philadelphia organized crime for 21 years, was gunned down in his parked car. Since that time, some 21 reputed area mobsters have been murdered, including many of the more businesslike figures. The leadership vacuum has been filled by a younger, more flamboyant crowd. Like Salvatore Testa, its members are viewed as more violent and brash than the old guard.

To many, a recent incident amply demonstrated the fear instilled by this "new mob." As the police reconstruct things, from the accounts of witnesses, Mr. Testa and several colleagues loitered conspicuously near a local jewelry store run by the nephew of a rival of Mr. Testa's. Sometimes they tapped on the window. The nephew -- who had no known criminal activities -- closed shop early one afternoon in December, shut himself in a walk-in safe and shot himself in the head. "Scared to Death?" asked the front-page headline of the tabloid Philadelphia Daily News the next day.

Shortly afterward, says Gino Lazzari, a special agent of the crime commission, informants reported Mr. Testa bragging that he didn't have to "hit" anybody anymore and that "all he had to do is call them up and tell them he wants to see them."

In another widely publicized incident, a local real-estate developer was punched, kicked and stabbed in the throat, reportedly after a nightclub argument with Mr. Testa. According to press and police accounts, a Pennsylvania grand jury looked into the fracas but didn't press charges after the victim suddenly decided not to cooperate.

"We'd love to convict him of doing something," says Capt. Frank Wallace, until recently the head of the Philadelphia Police Department's organized-crime unit. "Needless to say, he's the apple of our law-enforcement eye."

Law-enforcement officials believe young Testa is Nicodemo Scarfo's right-hand man and heir apparent. When Mr. Scarfo was released from a Texas jail in January after serving 17 months on a handgun-possession charge, it was Mr. Testa who, bedecked in suit and tie and 10-gallon hat, kissed him on the cheek, carried his bags and rode with the boss to the airport in a rented white limousine. Mr. Testa's attorney says the encounter was "merely a show of friendship. There's no crime to be with somebody."

Salvatore Testa's swift rise through the underworld, as described by Mafia watchers, shows the extraordinary importance of family connections in this most veiled of professions.

Mr. Testa's father, a longtime lieutenant of Angelo Bruno's, had a criminal record stretching back to 1940. By the mid-1970s, he had become Bruno's underboss. When Bruno died, he was the natural successor.

But Philip Testa sheltered his son from mob activities for more than two decades, the police say. Salvatore was raised in South Philadelphia, where he attended several private Catholic schools. Albert DiGiacomo, vice principal of St. John Neumann High School, remembers him as an average student who was respectful to his teachers and got along well with other students.

After a year at Temple University, he went to work as a real-estate salesman for a South Philadelphia firm owned by family friend Ralph Pupo, Angelo Bruno's son-in-law. Mr. Pupo says Salvatore was an "astute" salesman who worked 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. six days a week. "He's a very kind and gentle person," Mr. Pupo says. "To us, he's still a wonderful little boy."

Around 1979, Salvatore gave up full-time real-estate work. That year, he and the son of another reputed mobster applied for a liquor license at an Atlantic City nightclub they had bought in 1977 with $195,000 of their fathers' money. But the New Jersey Division of Alcoholic Beverage Control turned them down, citing in its decision its suspicion that the young men were fronting for their "criminally disqualified" fathers. In protest, the pair's attorney accused state officials of applying the adage "Like father, like son."

The police believe Philip Testa initiated his son into the Mafia shortly before he was murdered. (Salvatore's mother had died of cancer four months earlier.) Soon after the murder, the police say, they began to hear that Salvatore had vowed revenge.

Exactly one year to the day after Philip Testa's death, the body of a man named Rocco Marinucci turned up in a green plastic trash bag in a south Philadelphia parking lot. Mr. Marinucci, a low-level ally of Philip Testa's foes and a prime suspect in the elder Testa's murder, had been shot numerous times in the chest, neck and mouth, and his hands were bound with clothesline. Three large, unexploded firecrackers had been stuffed into his mouth -- a symbol, say organized-crime experts, that Philip Testa's friends had reciprocated for the nail bomb. No one has been charged with Marinucci's murder.

Since then, according to the crime commission's Mr. Hay, Mr. Testa has consolidated his power, bringing many friends into the mob. He has also inherited many of his father's allies. The most crucial has been Mr. Scarfo, a dapper former boxer who took over the mob after the death of Philip Testa, his mentor.

According to the Philadelphia police, much of Philip Testa's wealth has also passed to his son, including four Philadelphia properties valued at about $800,000. Salvatore Testa made an additional $1.1 million last year from the sale of his Atlantic City nightclub, bought through a third party by developer Donald Trump. The night Philip Testa was slain, the police found $15,000 in cash on his body and another $90,000 in his home.

Salvatore Testa is almost never seen in public without several husky friends, who surround him when he frequents this city's stylish nightclubs. Detectives say he is an amateur athlete with a fascination for mob lore. Officers who searched the Testa home after the father's death found a video cassette recorder downstairs with tapes of just two movies: "The Godfather" and "Godfather II." Until recently, Mr. Testa was engaged to be married to the daughter of Salvatore "Sonny" Merlino, described as Mr. Scarfo's underboss.

Authorities say Mr. Testa has played a key role in Mr. Scarfo's bloody turf feud with a mob faction headed by Harry "The Hunchback" Riccobene, 73, a former Bruno deputy who fell out of favor when Philip Testa gained power. Mr. Riccobene was the target of two unsuccessful murder attempts in 1982, shortly before he left to serve a racketeering sentence in jail.

The attempt on Mr. Testa's life in the summer of 1982, police say, was meant as retaliation. Joseph Pedulla and Victor DeLuca, the two men convicted in January 1983 of the shooting, are described as allies of Mr. Riccobene. Most recently, Mr Riccobene's half brother, Robert, was shot dead as he walked his mother from his car to her home. Mr. Riccobene's nephew, Enrico, was the jeweler who committed suicide eight days later.

I've heard Salvie did hits himself when he could rather than delegating it out to make sure nothing went wrong. The number is around 15 that he pulled the trigger himself on or was a backup shooter.

Thanks for posting the story Mussolini.

No prob man, hope you enjoyed it.

Yeah was real interesting, it would be unheard of today for a 28 year old mobster to be so powerful, feared and respected. I guess they don't make em like that any more!

Agreed.

In the US. In Italy, it is not uncommon for a boss to be in his 20's.

Can you give us some examples of young bosses in Italy Carmela and how long they reigned? Thanks man

2 off the top of my head were boss of Agrigento, Sicily. Giuseppe Falsone was not even 21 and boss for nearly 10 years. There was Gerlandino Messina, also boss of Agrigento, at 35 to present, although he's in jail for life, but no one has been named to replace him as of yet. I will post more later as I think of them.
You have Matteo Messina Denaro, who was allegedly made boss of bosses by the time he was 44.
Luciano Leggio was boss of Corleone at 33 when he shot and killed Navarra (previous boss of Corleone). Riina was 28.
Now these guys here, I'm just talking bosses. They were all feared mafioso as young men, all under 20. There's just so many to list if all you're talking about is feared made men in Italy. 18, 19, 20...these guys are made.

What was Joey Merlinos feelings towards salvie they were both around the same same age and both ran in the same circles.

It doesnt matter how much of an earner a guy is once u clip him u take over all his operations u still make the same amount if your a boss.The only difference is instead of one guy bringing in x amount its several guys bringing that amount divided by them.Look at sammy the bull him turning rat was a blessing in disguise for some guys his bookmaking operation was worth 5mil some gambinos guy inherted that and also everysingle other of his operations

Good questions. Did Joey and Salvie get along?

Merlino was 6 years younger. I think it did not matter what Merlino thought of Salvie. Merlino was just a punk kid.