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Posts Tagged ‘J. EDGAR HOOVER’

JFK: FIFTY YEARS AFTER DALLAS: PART FOUR (OF TEN)

In Bureaucracy, History, Politics, Social commentary on August 20, 2013 at 12:15 am

John F. Kennedy became President when civil rights suddenly became a burning issue throughout the Nation.

At Kennedy’s request, dozen of law firms sent lawyers South, so civil rights demonstrators would not lack  counsel.

Prominent blacks such as Thurgood Marshall, Robert C. Weaver and George L.L. Weaver were appointed, respectively, to the Supreme Court, the Housing and House Finance Agency and the office of Assistant Secretary of Labor.

But Kennedy was highly reluctant to push for a civil rights bill addressing the overall issues of racial discrimination.

The reason: Most of the chairman of House and Senate committees were deeply conservative racists–whether Republican or Democrat.  They decided whether Kennedy’s foreign policy initiatives would be approved or opposed–especialy his bills for increased foreign aid.

Kennedy believed he could not offend such men without jeopardizing the legacy he wanted to achieve in foreign policy.

This timidity, in turn, led many prominent blacks–such as Martin Luther King and Malcom X–to believe they would see no innovative moves on Kennedy’s part.

But events forced Kennedy’s hand.

On September 30, 1962, the President sent deputy U.S. marshals and National Guardsmen into Mississippi to restore order.  Rioting had erupted when, by federal court order, James Meredith, a black, was enrolled  at the state university.

Kennedy’s problems in winning support for his civil rights program arose in the folkways of the Nation.  When laws run counter to a nation’s folkways, the laws lose.

In backing the admission of Meredith, the President chose an incident which would set off shockwaves for black rights.

Kennedy held mixed emotions about the demand for civil rights by blacks.  On one hand, as an Irish Catholic, he grew up with stories about longtime discrimination against his ancestors (such as the “No Irish Need Apply” signs posted by numerous employers).

On the other hand, he had been born into a world of power and wealth, and he had to grope his way toward understanding the problems of the oppressed.

Another major confrontation broke out between Kennedy and the forces of segregation on June 11, 1963.  Alabama Governor George C. Wallace personally blocked the entrance of two black pupils to the University of Tuscaloosa.

The President, watching on TV, federalized the Alabama National Guard, which Wallace had used to ring the school.  Wallace withdrew and the students were admitted and enrolled.

That same day, Kennedy addressed the nation on the need for genuine equality for all Americans: “The question is whether we are going to treat our fellow Americans as we want to be treated.”

JFK addresses the nation on civil rights

And he called on Congress to pass his civil rights bill, which had been stalled by the legislators.

On August 28, 1963, 200,000 civil rights demonstrators flooded Washington, D.C., for a massive rally.

Fearing that violence would erupt–embarrassing his administration and setting back the cause of civil rights–Kennedy had sought to persuade Dr. Martin Luther King, the march’s chief figure, to cancel the proposed march..

But King and his fellow organizers were determined to go through with it.  They had, they said, waited too long for justice to be satisfied with anything less.

The dignity and peacefulness of the rally–and, most especially, King’s soaring “I Have a Dream” speech–won tremendous sympathy throughout the cuntry.  Kennedy met with civil rights leaders afterward to offer his support.

Martin Luther King during the March on Washington

But Kennedy’s civil rights bill remained stalled in Congress until 1964.   President Lyndon B. Johnson used the assassinated Kennedy’s new status as a martyr to gain enough support for its passage.

Meanwhile, on yet another front, the Kennedy administration was waging an unprecedented war against organized crime.

This was primarily the work of Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy.  As chief counsel for the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations during the late 1950s, he had interrogated hundreds of mobsters who had been summoned by subpoena.

And he had learned, firsthand, how ineffective the FBI and Justice Department were at bringing such powerful criminals to justice.

Upon taking office as Attorney General, he greatly expanded the number of attorneys assigned to the Justice Department’s Organized Crime Section.  And, more important, he used his status as brother to the President to jawbone FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover into attacking the Mob.

The FBI installed illegal microphones in Mob hangouts throughout the country and started building cases against such mobsters as Sam Giancana, Santos Trafficante and Carlos Marcello.

The administration’s attack on the Mob has led some historians to believe the assassination of President Kennedy was Mob-orchestrated.

The reasons:

  • Joseph P. Kennedy, the family patriarch, solicited Mob money and influence for his son’s 1960 Presidential campaign.
  • Through singer Frank Sinatra, the elder Kennedy assurred Chicago Mafia boss Sam Giancana that the mob would get a free ride if his son were elected President.
  • The CIA, seeking any way to topple Fidel Castro, enlisted the Mafia to assassinate him.
  • But Robert Kennedy, as Attorney General, ignored the Mob’s “contributions” and pressed his war against the syndicates
  • As a result, mobsters felt betrayed and lusted for vengeance.

JFK: FIFTY YEARS AFTER DALLAS: PART THREE (OF TEN)

In Bureaucracy, History, Politics, Social commentary on August 19, 2013 at 12:02 am

By October, 1962, the Soviet Union had sent more than 40,000 soldiers, 1,300 field pieces, 700 anti-aircraft guns, 350 tanks and 150 jets to Cuba to deter another invasion.

Nikita Khrushchev, the premier of the Soviet Union, also began supplying Castro with nuclear-tipped ballistic missiles–whose discovery, on October 15, 1962, ignited the single most dangerous confrontation of the Cold War.

John F. Kennedy during the Cuban Missile Crisis

On October 16, Kennedy was shown photographs of nuclear missile sites under construction on the island.  The pictures had been taken by a high-altitude U-2 spy plane.

Suddenly, the two most powerful nuclear countries–the United States and the Soviet Union–found themselves on the brink of nuclear war.

At the time, Kennedy officials claimed they couldn’t understand why Khrushchev had placed nuclear missiles in Cuba. “Maybe Khrushchev’s gone mad” was a typical musing.

None of these officials admitted that JFK had been waging a no-holds-barred campaign to overthrow the Cuban government and assassinate its leader.

On October 16, the next day, President Kennedy was informed of the missile installations. He immediately convened a group of his 12 most important advisors, which became known as Ex-Comm, for Executive Committee.

Then followed seven days of guarded and intense debate by Kennedy and his advisors. Some of the participants-–such as Air Force General Curtis LeMay-–urged an all-out air strike against the missile sites.

Robert Kennedy, the Attorney General (and the President’s brother) opposed initial calls for an air strike.

It would be, he said, “a Pearl Harbor in reverse.”  And, he added: “I don’t want my brother to go down in history as the Tojo of the 1960s.”

Robert F. and John F. Kennedy

Others-–such as Adlai Stevenson, the United States delegate to the United Nations–urged a reliance on quiet diplomacy.

It was Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara who suggested a middle course: A naval blockade–-a “quarantine” in Kennedy’s softened term–around Cuba. This would hopefully prevent the arrival of more Soviet offensive weapons on the island.

The President insisted that the missiles had to go–by peaceful means, if possible, but through the use of military force if necessary.

Kennedy finally settled on a maval blockade of Cuba.  This would prevent additional missiles from coming in and give Khrushchev time to negotiate and save face.

On October 22, President Kennedy appeared on nationwide TV to denounce the presence of Russian nuclealr missiles in Cuba.

He demanded their withdrawal, and warned that any missile launched against any nation in the Western hemisphere would be answered with “a full retaliatory response upon the Soviet Union.”

Kennedy ordered American military readiness raised to a level of Defcom-2–the step just short of total war.

The United States had about 27,000 nuclear weapons; the Soviets had about 3,000. In a first salvo of a nuclear exchange, the United States could have launched about 3,000 nuclear weapons and the Soviets about 250.

Nuclear missile in silo

On October 28, Khrushchev announced that the missile sites would be destroyed and the missiles crated and shipped back to the Soiet Union.

In return, Kennedy gave his promise–publicly–to lift the blockade and not invade Cuba

Privately, he also promised to remove obsolte Jupiter II nuclear missiles from Turkey, which bordered the Soviet Union.  Those missiles were, in effect, the American version of the Russian missiles that had been shipped to Cuba.

The world escaped nuclear disaster by a hair’s-breath.

Khrushchev didn’t know that Kennedy had intended to order a full-scale invasion of Cuba in just another 24 hours if an agreement couldn’t be reached.

And Kennedy and his military advisors didn’t know that Russian soldiers defending Cuba had been armed with tactical nuclear weapons.

If warfare of any type had broken out, the temptation to go nuclear would have been overwhelming.

The Cuban Missile Crisis marked the only time the world came to the brink of nuclear war.

To those on the Right, it was a sell-out: Kennedy had refused to “take out” Castro when he had the chance to do so.  Thus, he had allowed Cuba to remain a Communist bastion only 90 miles from Florida.

To those on the Left, it was a needless confrontation that risked the destruction of humanity.

For Kennedy, forcing the Soviets to remove their misssiles from Cuba re-won the confidence he had lost among so many Americans following the Bay of Pigs fiasco.

It also brought him face-to-face with the brutal truth that a miscalculation during a nuclear crisis could destroy all life on the planet.

He felt he could now move–cautiously–toward better relations between the United States and the Soviet Union.

Ironically, the crisis had the same effects on Khrushchev–who had witnessed the horrors of Germany’s 1941 invasion of the Soviet Union and the subsequent loss of at least 22 million Soviet citizens–most of them civilians.

Slowly and carefully, Kennedy and Khrushchev negotiated the details of what would become the Nuclear Test Ban Treaty, which banned nuclear testing in the atmosphere.

Underground tests would still continue, but the amounts of deadly strontonium-90 radiation polluting the atmosphere would be vastly reduced.

The treaty was signed between the United States and the Soviet Union on July 25, 1963.

Kennedy considered it his greatest achievement as President, saying in a speech: “According to a Chinese proverb, a jouney of a thousand miles begins with a single step.  My fellow Americans, let us take that first step.”

JFK: FIFTY YEARS AFTER DALLAS: PART TWO (OF TEN)

In Bureaucracy, History, Military, Politics, Social commentary on August 16, 2013 at 1:00 am

During the 1960 Presidential campaign, then-Senator John F. Kennedy promised to build a Peace Corps to train people in underdeveloped nations to help themselves.

In March, 1961, the program went into effect, with the President’s brother-in-law, Sergent Shriver, as director.

Starvation, illiteracy and disease were the three enemies of the Corps.  Any nation wanting aid could request it.  The first group of volunteers went to the Philippines, the second to Equador and the third to Tanganika.

The problems of the underdeveloped world were too great for any single organization to solve.  But the Corps lifted the spirits of many living in those countries.  And it captured the imagination of millions of Americans–especially those of the tens of thousands of idealistic youths who entered its ranks.

To combat the growing Communist threat to Latin America, Kennedy established the Alliance for Progress.  He defined the Alliance’s goal as providing “revolutionary progress through powerful, democratic means.”

Within two years he could report:

“Some 140,000 housing units have been constructed.  Slum clearance projects have begun, and 3,000 classrooms have been built.  More than 4,000,000 school books have been distributed.

“The Alliance has fired the imagination and kindled the hopes of millions of our good neighbors.  Their drive toward modernization is gaining momentum as it unleashes the energies of these millions.

“The United States is becoming increasingly identified in the minds of the people with the goal they move toward: a better life with freedom,” said Kennedy.

Critics of the program, however, charged that the President was trying to “dress up the old policies” of Franklin D. Roosevelt in new rhetoric.  Since FDR’s time, the United States has believed in giving economic aid to Latin America.

Much–if not most–of these billions of dollars has wound up in the pockets of various right-wing dictators, such as Fulgencio Batista, Anastasio Somoza and Rafael Trujillo.

Meanwhile, Kennedy was urging action on another front–that of outer space.

“This generation does not intend to founder in the backwash of the coming age of space,” declared the President.  He committed the United States to putting a man on the moon by the end of the decade.

As indeed it happened less than six years after his death–on July 20, 1969.

Kennedy’s idealistic rhetoric masked his real reason for going to the moon: To score a propaganda victory over the Soviet Union.

But the President hadn’t forgotten Cuba–and his intention to remove Fidel Castro from power at almost any cost.

Immediately after the failed Bay of Pigs invasion, Kennedy appointed his brother, Robert–who was then the Attorney General–to oversee a CIA program to overthrow Castro.

The CIA and the Mafia entered into an unholy alliance to assassinate Castro–each for its own benefit:

  • The CIA wanted to please Kennedy by overthrowing the Communist leader who had nationalized American corporate holdings.
  • The Mafia wanted to regain its lucrative casino and brothel holdings that had made Cuba the playground of the rich in pre-Castro times.

The mobsters were authorized to offer $150,000 to anyone who would kill Castro and were promised any support the Agency could yield.

“We were hysterical about Castro at about the time of the Bay of Pigs and thereafter,” then-former  Secretary of Defense Robert S. McNamara testified before Congress about these efforts. “And there was pressure from JFK and RFK to do something about Castro.”

Nor was everyone in the CIA enthusiastic about the “get Castro” effort.

“Everyone at CIA was surprised at Kennedy’s obsession with Fidel,” recalled Sam Halpern, who was assigned to the Cuba Project. “They thought it was a waste of time. We all knew [Fidel] couldn’t hurt us. Most of us at CIA initially liked Kennedy, but why go after this little guy?

“One thing is for sure: Kennedy wasn’t doing it out of national security concerns. It was a personal thing. The Kennedy family felt personally burnt by the Bay of Pigs and sought revenge.”

It was all-out war. Among the tactics used:

  • Hiring Cuban gangsters to murder Cuban police officials and Soviet technicians.
  • Sabotaging mines.
  • Paying up to $100,000 per “hit” for the murder or kidnapping of Cuban officials.
  • Using biological and chemical warfare against the Cuban sugar industry.
  • Planting colorful seashells rigged to explode at a site where Castro liked to go skindiving.
  • Trying to arrange for his being presented with a wetsuit impregnated with noxious bacteria and mold spores, or with lethal chemical agents.
  • Attempting to infect Castro’s scuba regulator with tuberculous bacilli.
  • Trying to douse his handkerchiefs, cigars, tea and coffee with other lethal bacteria.

But all of these efforts failed to assassinate Castro–or overthrow the Cuban Revolution he was heading.

“Bobby (Kennedy) wanted boom and bang all over the island,” recalled Halpern. “It was stupid. The pressure from the White House was very great.”

Americans would rightly label such methods as ”terrorist” if another power used them against the United States today. And the Cuban government saw the situation exactly the same way.

So Castro appealed to Nikita Khrushchev, leader of the Soviet Union, for assistance.

Khrushchev was quick to comply: “We must not allow the communist infant to be strangled in its crib,” he told members of his inncer circle.

JFK: FIFTY YEARS AFTER DALLAS: PART ONE (OF TEN)

In Bureaucracy, History, Politics, Social commentary on August 15, 2013 at 11:16 am

November 22, 2013, will mark the 50th anniversary of the assassination of President John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

It’s one of those infamous dates that its eyewitnesses will never forget–in a class with

  • December 7, 1941 (Pearl Harbor),
  • April 12, 1945 (the death of President Franklin D. Roosevelt and
  • September 11, 2001 (Al Qaeda’s attacks on the Pentagon and World Trade Center).

Some have called the Kennedy adminsitration a golden era in American history.

A time when touch football, lively White House parties, stimulus to the arts and the antics of the President’s children became national obsessions.

Others have called the Kennedy Presidency a monument to the unchecked power of wealth and ambition.  An administration staffed by young novices playing at statesmen, riddled with nepotism, and whose legacy includes the Bay of Pigs, the Vietnam war and the world’s first nuclear confrontation.

While Americans continue to disagree about the legacy of JFK, there is no disagreement that his Presidency came to a sudden and shocking end just two years, ten months and two days after it had all begun.

The opening days of the Kennedy Presidency raised hopes for a dramatic change in relations between the United States and the Soviet Union.

But detente was not possible then.  The Russians had not yet experienced their coming agricultural problems and the setback in Cuba during the Missile Crisis.  And the United States had not suffered reversals in Vietnam.

Kennedy’s first brush with international Communism came on April 17, 1961, with the invasion of Cuba at the Bay of Pigs.  This operation had been planned and directed by the Central Intelligence Agency during the final months of the Presidency of Dwight D. Eisenhower.

About 1,400 Cuban exiles were to be landed on the island to overthrow the Communist government of Fidel Castro. They were supposed to head into the mountains–as Castro himself had done against the dictatorship of Fulgencio Batista in 1956–and raise the cry of revolution.

The U.S. Navy would supply transport after an American air strike had knocked out the Cuban air force.  But the airstrike failed and Kennedy, under the pressure of world opinion, called off a second try.

Even so, the invasion went ahead.  When the invaders surged onto the beaches, they found Castro’s army waiting for them.  Many of the invaders were killed on the spot.  Others were captured–to be ransomed by the United States in December, 1962, in return for medical supplies.

It was a major public relations setback for the newly-installed Kennedy administration, which has raised hopes for a change in American-Soviet relations.

Kennedy, trying to abort widespread criticism, publicly took the blame for the setback:  “There’s an old saying that victory has a hundred fathers and defeat is an orphan.  Further statements, detailed discussions, are not to conceal responsibility because I’m the responsible officer of the Government.”

The Bay of Pigs convinced Kennedy that he had been misled by the CIA and the Joint Chieifs of Staff.  Out of this came his decision that, from now on, he would rely more heavily on the counsel of his brother, Robert, whom he had installed as Attorney General.

Another consequence of the failed Cuban invasion: It convinced Soviet Premier Nikita S. Khrushchev that Kennedy was weak.

Khrushchev told an associate that he could understand if Kennedy had not decided to invade Cuba.  But once he did, Kennedy should have gone all the way and wiped out Castro.

Khrushchev attributed this to Kennedy’s youth, inexperience and timidity–and believed he could bully the President.

On June 4, 1961, Kennedy met with Khrushchev in Vienna to discuss world tensions.  Khrushchev threatened to go to nuclear war over the American presence in West Berlin–the dividing line between Western Europe, protected by the United States, and Eastern Europe, controlled by the Soviet Union.

Kennedy, who prized rationality above all else, was shaken by Knhrushchev’s unexpected rage.  Emerging from the conference, he told an associate: “It’s going to be a cold winter.”

Meanwhile, East Berliners felt the door was about to slam on their access to West Berlin, and a flood of 3,000 refugees daily poured into West Germany.

Khrushchev was clearly embarrassed at this clear showing of the unpopularity of the Communist regime. In August, he orderd that a concrete wall–backed up by barbed wire, searchlights and armed guards–be erected to seal off East Berlin.

That same year, when tensions mounted and a Soviet invasion of West Berlin seemed likely, Kennedy sent additional troops to the city in a massive demonstration of American will.

Two years later, in June, 1963, during a 10-day tour of Europe, Kennedy visited Berlin to deliver his “I am a Berlinner” speech to a frenzied crowd of thousands.

JFK adddresses crowds at the Berlin Wall

Standing within gunshot of the Berlin wall, he lashed out at the Soviet Union and praised the citizens of West Berlin for being “on the front lines of freedom” for more than 20 years.

“All free men, wherever they may live,” said Kennedy, “are citizens of Berlin.  And therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words, ‘Ich ben ein Berlinner.'”

WITNESS-SECURITY: A BLOODSTAINED HISTORY: PART SIX (OF TEN)

In Bureaucracy, History, Law, Law Enforcement on June 17, 2013 at 12:16 am

Mafia Hitman Joseph Barboza had become known throughout the New England underworld as “The Animal.”

He relished his new alias and his reputation as a temperamental killer.

Everyone who dealt with Barboza—including Mafia Boss Raymond Patriarca—feared his explosive temper.

Granted an audience with Patriarca, Barboza was transfixed by the capo’s diamond ring.  Later, he bragged that he had thought of biting off Patriarca’s finger to get the ring.

“He’s crazy,” Patriarca often told his closest associates.  “Someday we’ll have to whack him out.”

Only one other mob gunman could match Barboza’s reputation for deadliness: Steve Hughes, the top triggerman for the McLaughlins.

Barboza spent more than a year trying to eliminate Hughes, until his chance finally came on September 23, 1966.

On that day, Hughes and a loanshark friend, Sammy Lindenbaum, went for a drive along Route 114 in Middleton, Massachusetts.

They paid no attention as another car—carrying Barboza and a crony, Joseph Amico—rapidly closed on them.

With Amico behind the wheel, Barboza aimed a high-powered rifle out the window and dropped Hughes and Lindenbaum in their seats.

Barboza’s moment of supreme triumph was short-lived.  His rising notoriety disturbed Patriarca, who believed in taking a low profile and avoiding the antagonism of the press and police.

Patriarca began searching for an excuse to part with his top muscleman.   He found it on October 6, 1966, when Boston police arrested Barboza and three companions.

Inside Barboza’s car, police found a loaded .45 automatic and an M-1 carbine.  Barboza, then out on bail on a stabbing charge, was shipped off to Walpole State Prison for parole violation.

There he waited vainly for the Patriarca Family to post the $50,000 bond demanded for his release.

Tired of waiting, two of his fellow enforcers decided to lend a hand: Thomas DePrisco and Arthur Bratsos began raiding Patriarca gambling dens to collect the money.

Their fund-raising efforts ended violently one night when their intended victims drew pistols and shot Bratsos and DePrisco to death.

When he learned of the deaths of his friends, Barboza exploded.  He damned Patriarca as a “fag” and swore to kill several of the capo’s top associates, whom he blamed for the slayings.

Word of this outburst reached Patriarca, who sent back a threat of his own: Barboza was a dead man, in or out of prison.

Fearing for his own life, Barboza yielded to the proddings of two FBI agents seeking evidence against Patriarca.  He agreed to act as a federal witness against his former mob cronies.

In exchange, he demanded protection for himself, his wife and young daughter, and the dropping of his parole and all charges now facing him.

Although Barboza’s terms were stiff, Boston District Attorney Gary Byrne and the prosecutors of the Justice Department felt they were getting the best of the bargain.

They saw in Barboza a dramatic, unprecedented opportunity to strike down a powerful crime cartel.

This, in turn, would enable federal lawmen to recruit new informants and witnesses for additional—and successful—prosecutions..

To achieve these goals, however, the Justice Department had to prove it could protect Barboza against mob reprisals.

As a first step in this process, Byrne released the ex-hitman to the protective custody of the FBI.  But the FBI found its budget and manpower strained by the assignment.

Realizing that a combined effort was necessary, the Bureau called in a handpicked security detail of sixteen deputy U.S. marshals.

Heading the detail was Deputy Marshal John Partington, a former agent with the IRS Intelligence Division and a specialist in organized crime.

John Partington (on right)

Equally important, Partington understood the criminal mentality: Not only did Barboza need to be protected, he needed to be kept in a proper state of mind to testify in court.

The marshals transferred Barboza to Thatcher’s Island, an isolated lighthouse station off the coast of Gloucester.  Occupied by two houses and approachable only by sea, the island seemed a perfect security spot.

Every two weeks, a new detail of marshals arrived to relieve the sixteen men on duty.  Food and supplies were regularly shipped in aboard Coast Guard vessels.

Eventually, the press learned of the security detail on ”Baron’s Island”—so  nicknamed because “Baron” had once been a Barboza alias.

The disclosure led to a series of attempts by mob hitmen to eliminate Barboza.

Thatcher’s Island

The first attempt came in September, 1967.  Patriarca ordered a 325-pound stock swindler named Vincent Teresa to take a crew of hitman, infiltrate the island and dispose of Barboza.

But the FBI learned of the plot and tipped off the security detail.

When Teresa’s $112,000, forty-three foot yacht, The Living End, cruised around the island, the hitman couldn’t find an unprotected spot to land.

Everywhere they looked they saw deputy U.S. marshals, armed with pistols and carbines, patrolling the beach.  Barboza never appeared in sight.

Then a Patriarca assassin, Maurice “Pro” Lerner, thought of making a one-man, commando-style assault on the island.  An experienced skindiver, he brought along his own scuba gear for just such an attack.

But he quickly dropped the idea: he estimated the odds of getting a successful shot at Barboza were a million to one.

Copyright@1984 Taking Cover: Inside the Witness Security Program, by Steffen White and Richard St. Germain

WITNESS-SECURITY: A BLOODSTAINED HISTORY: PART FIVE (OF TEN)

In Bureaucracy, History, Law, Law Enforcement on June 14, 2013 at 12:05 am

The Witness Security Program owes its creation to one of the most-feared assassins the Mafia has ever produced: Joseph Barboza, who took pride in his underworld alias, “The Animal.”

It was a nickname he had lived up to.  “I was an enforcer,” he boasted to the House Select Committee on Crime in 1972, “who kept the other enforcers in line.”

Barboza had done so as a top hitman earning $900 a week from the most powerful Mafia family in New England.  Ruling that family was Raymond Patriarca, based in Providence, Rhode Island.

Joseph “The Animal” Barboza

But even before entering the Mafia, Joseph Barboza had spent most of his life as a career criminal.  He was born in 1932, in New Bedford, Massachusetts, to Portuguese immigrant parents.

By the time he was thirty, he had served two prison sentences—one for burglary, the other for assault with a deadly weapon.

Even his jailers couldn’t restrain him.  At Norfolk Prison Colony, he got drunk on illicit “hooch” and led an inmates’ riot, culminating in a short-lived escape-attempt.

When Barboza wasn’t serving time in prison, he made his living as a boxer (winning three professional matches and earning a rating in Ring magazine).  He supplemented his income through a career as a freelance loanshark and extortionist.

By 1963, his growing notoriety had brought him to the attention of Enrico Henry Tameleo, the underboss, or second-in-command, to Raymond Patriarca.

Since 1948, Patriarca had been “the policymaker, judge and overlord of organized crime” throughout New England, according to a 1966 FBI report.

Raymond Patriarca

Tameleo offered a Barboza a job and fulltime income as an enforcer for the Patriarca Family.  Barboza instantly agreed.  He had always dreamed of becoming a “made man” of the Mafia.

(Tameleo didn’t warn him that this was impossible.  Barboza was of Portuguese descent, and only full-blooded Sicilians and Italians could hold Mafia membership.)

Tameleo sent Barboza to shake down 20 nightclubs whose owners had refused to pay “protection insurance” to the mob.

The owners changed their minds after one or two visits from Barboza and his wrecking crew.  Furniture would be smashed and customers terrorized until the owners began paying $1,000 a month to Patriarca’s collectors.

Meanwhile, the always fragile peace of the New England underworld was being shattered by an escalating wave of gangland violence.

In 1961, the two most powerful factions of the region’s “Irish Mafia” had gone to war.  On one side was the Charleston mob of Bernard McLaughlin.  On the other was the Winter Hill gang of James “Buddy” McLean.

The “Irish Gang War” triggered a police crackdown on all the New England organized crime groups—including Patriarca’s.  That was when Patriarca demanded that the fighting stop.

To ensure that it did, he sent his underboss, Tameleo, to arrange a peace conference between the McLeans and McLaughlins.  Both sides agreed to a truce because Tameleo was widely respected for his skills as a negotiator.

But when the conference opened in January, 1965, Tameleo was outraged to find the McLaughlins had come armed–a direct violation of the “rules of order.”  Patriarca also grew furious at this spurning of his efforts as underworld peacemaker.

As a result, the Patriarca Family threw its full weight behind the McLeans.

During 1965, Joseph Barboza moved from being a “mere” legbreaker for the Patriarca Family to becoming its top assassin.  His first important victim was Edward Deegan, a McLaughlin member who had raided several Patriarca gambling dens.

Barboza invited Deegan to join him in a burglary of the Lincoln National Bank in Boston.  Unaware that he had been marked for death, Deegan agreed.

On the night of March 12, 1965, the burglars struck.  As the four men emerged from the bank, Barboza and two cronies emptied their pistols into Deegan.

This killing proved a turning point for Barboza.  He became the top hitman for the Patriarca Family and the McLean mob.  He carried out more  hits than any other assassin during the war.  Later, in a hastily-written autobiography, he would boast of his string of killings.

(But he was always careful to describe his actions in the third-person, as though someone else had actually been responsible.  In this way he protected himself against prosecution for murder, where no immunity existed.)

In June, Jimmy “The Bear” Flemmi, a close friend of Barboza’s, was gravely wounded by a shotgun blast.  Barboza soon learned that the attackers had been Steve Hughes and Edward “Punchy” McLaughlin.

Swearing vengeance, Barboza quickly set out to claim his next victim.  He was especially intent on disposing of Hughes, who had become the top triggerman of the McLaughlins.

On October 20, 1963, Edward McLaughlin was waiting at a bus stop when Barboza casually walked up behind him.  Disguised in a wig and glasses, Barboza drew his pistol and pumped five bullets into McLaughlin.

Less than a month later, on November 11, the hitman visited the Mickey Mouse Club, a tavern in Revere Reach.  This time his intended target was a bartender and McLaughlin member named Ray DiStassio.

Talking with DiStassio at that moment was an innocent bystander, John R. O’Neill.  Barboza simply drew and shot both men dead.

Copyright@1984 Taking Cover: Inside the Witness Security Program, by Steffen White and Richard St. Germain

WITNESS-SECURITY: A BLOODSTAINED HISTORY: PART FOUR (OF TEN)

In Bureaucracy, History, Law, Law Enforcement on June 8, 2013 at 12:05 am

Joseph Valachi was the first member of the Mafia to talk publicly about its secrets.

But before that happened, he had to be persuaded to open up.  The men who first got that assignment were agents of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs.

But the sessions between him and the agents went badly.  He blamed them for his imprisonment on drug charges in 1960.  And he believed they had deliberately created a rift between him and his cellmate, “Boss of all Bosses” Vito Venovese.

Then the FBI intervened.  Under pressure from Attorney General Robert Kennedy to combat the crime syndicates, the Bureau took an aggressive interest in Valachi.

Seeing him as a potential breakthrough in organized crime intelligence, the FBI cited its greater area of jurisdiction and successfully lobbied the Justice Department to take charge of the new informant.

Valachi’s disclosures proved worthless as prosecution evidence.  They were too dated, and too many of the leading mobsters who figured in them were now dead or retired.

But as strategic intelligence, they were invaluable.

Valachi provided federal lawmen, for the first time, with an insider’s account of the history, membership and operations of organized crime.

Many veteran law enforcement agents were shocked: The shadowy world of the Cosa Nostra was far more extensive and powerful than they had dared imagine.

More important, in Joseph Valachi himself, the Justice Department finally had tangible proof of an organized crime network.  The very existence of the Mafia had long been hotly debated within law enforcement.

Chief among the believers in such a criminal empire had been Harry Anslinger, director of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics.

Anslinger’s certainty that the Mafia existed grew out of his agents’ constant struggles against mobsters importing narcotics into the United States.  His agency had compiled elaborate dossiers on many of these mobsters, and had sent many others to prison.

By far the most important “debunker” of this belief was J. Edgar Hoover, director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.  Hoover insisted that there was no “national crime confederation,” only loosely-knit groups of criminals whose apprehension was best left to local law enforcers.

J. Edgar Hoover

Hoover’s refusal to admit the existence of the Mafia has long been the subject of heated debate.  Some theorists believe he feared that his “Boy Scout” agents would be corrupted by Mafia bribes.

Others argue that he had been compromised by Mafia bribes or blackmail (the latter through his alleged homosexual relationship with Clyde Tolson, his second-in-command at the FBI).

Still others claim that Hoover simply couldn’t accept that other federal, state and local police agencies had discovered a criminal empire that his own agents had somehow overlooked.

A major reason for the continuing debate over the existence of organized crime lay in the refusal of mob informants to testify as courtroom witnesses.  Abe Reles had been an exception, but he had given his testimony twenty years ago, and only for the State of New York.

More importantly, Reles never appeared before a Senate investigating committee—and on live television.

Joseph Valachi did.  In September, 1963, he became the Senate’s star witness in its hearings on organized crime and narcotics trafficking.

By that time, the mob was offering $100,000 for his life.  To guarantee that no one collected on this contract, federal lawmen turned the Senate Caucus Room into a bodyguards’ convention.

Before Valachi entered the room, FBI agents and deputy U.S. marshals screened the audience for suspicious types or known underworld figures.  While Valachi testified, marshals and capital police filled most of the first eight rows behind him.  Other lawmen were scattered throughout the building.

Joseph Valachi

Whenever Valachi left the witness chair, twenty deputy marshals accompanied him everywhere—even  during trips to the restroom.  And after each day’s proceedings, a fast-moving caravan of police cars returned him to his heavily-guarded cell at the District of Columbia Jail.

During the nearly three years that federal agents interrogated Joseph Valachi, the Justice Department spent more than $167,908 guarding, transporting and maintaining him.

But the money was well-spent: when Valachi died in 1971 at La Tuna Federal Prison, near El Paso, the cause was a heart attack.  And federal lawmen had proven they could guarantee protection for those who betrayed the secrets of the Mafia.

Other organized crime witnesses for the Justice Department didn’t fare so well.

In 1965, two years after Valachi’s appearance before the Senate, Attorney General Nicholas deB. Katzenbach, who had succeeded Robert Kennedy, informed a shocked Congress: “We must dismiss [organized crime cases] because key witnesses or informants suffer ‘accidents’ and turn up, for example, in a river wearing concrete boots.

“Such accidents are not unusual.  We have lost more than twenty-five informants in this and similar ways in the last four years.  We have been unable to bring hundreds of other cases because key witnesses would not testify for fear of the same fate.”

Copyright@1984 Taking Cover: Inside the Witness Security Program, by Steffen White and Richard St. Germain

WITNESS-SECURITY: A BLOODSTAINED HISTORY: PART THREE (OF TEN)

In Bureaucracy, History, Law, Law Enforcement on June 7, 2013 at 12:03 am

Eight years after the death of Arnold Schuster in 1952, the lack of a witness security program cost the life of James V. Delmont, a member of the Stefano Magaddino Mafia Family of Buffalo, New York.  After slipping from underworld grace, Delmont went on the run for his life.

On June 25, 1959, he appeared at the Miami field office of the FBI, offering a rare trade: Mafia secrets for any intelligence the Bureau had on his pursuers.  But the FBI didn’t know what to do with its would-be informant.  One agent advised Delmont to re-enter the Mafia as an FBI plant.  Delmont angrily rejected that idea, and again took flight.

On May 25, 1960, he made a similar offer to agents of the FBI’s Los Angeles office.  They wrote him off as a crank.

Ten days later, Delmont’s body, bearing the marks of a classic Mafia execution (several bullets fired directly into the back of the head), turned up in a field in East Los Angeles.  The Intelligence Division of the Los Angeles Police Department conducted a vigorous probe into the slaying, but couldn’t positively identify Delmont’s killers.

Commenting on the significance of the Delmont case, LAPD Sergeant Peter N. Bagoye, an expert on organized crime, noted: “If any police officer still doubts the existence and power of the Mafia, the Cosa Nostra, or whatever you want to call it, just let him read this case.

“This man Delmont spent a year and traveled thousands of miles to escape the vengeance of the Mafia.  He left a trail of letters and conversations behind-the first known case in which there is any existing blueprint of how the Syndicate works.”

In 1961, after Robert F. Kennedy became Attorney General, the Justice Department mounted the first effective campaign in its history against organized crime.  As part of this effort, the agency began wrestling for the first time with the complex difficulties of creating a protection program for organized crime witnesses.

Robert F. Kennedy

By September, 1963, Kennedy—appearing as a witness during Senate hearings on organized crime and narcotics trafficing—could  cite a number of successes by federal lawmen in safeguarding witnesses.

“How long,” asked Maine Senator Edmund S. Muskie, “can the Justice Department protect people who agree to testify?”

“We have taken steps, Senator, to even move people out of the country,” answered Kennedy.  “We have provided them with positions and work in other cities where nobody will really have any contact with them.  We have arranged to move their families and have their names changed.

“I think we have procedures now where, if an important individual comes forward and is willing to testify, we can give him that kind of protection.”

Such an individual proved to be Joseph Valachi, an aging Cosa Nostra hitman and narcotics trafficker.  In 1962, Valachi was an inmate at Atlanta Federal Prison, serving two concurrent sentences totaling thirty-five years for narcotics trafficking.  His cellmate was Vito Genovese, then the most powerful Mafia boss in the country.

Vito Genovese

Genovese had been convicted of narcotics conspiracy in 1959 and sentenced to fifteen years’ imprisonment.  Now he began suspecting—wrongly—that Valachi was an informer.  The reason: After Valachi’s second trial for narcotics trafficking, he had been repeatedly interviewed—against his will—by federal narcotics agents.

One night, in a scene right out of a B-grade Mafia movie, Genovese summoned Valachi to his cell for a private talk.

“You know,” said Genovese, “we take a barrel of apples.  And in this barrel of apples, there might be a bad apple.  Well, this apple has to be removed.  And if it ain’t removed, it would hurt the rest of the apples.”  Then he gave Valachi the fabled “kiss of death,” signifying that he was now marked for murder.

Valachi survived what he believed were attempts to poison his food and lure him alone into a shower where he could be stabbed to death.   But he knew his luck could not last forever.  He decided to take at least one of his enemies with him.

On June 22, 1963, he beat another inmate to death with an iron pipe.  Only later did he learn that he had killed the wrong man: John Joseph Saupp, a forger without ties to the mob.  It had been Saupp’s bad luck to bear a striking resemblance to another prisoner whom Valachi believed had the contract to kill him.

Valachi grew depressed over having killed the wrong man.  He also knew he couldn’t spend the rest of his life in solitary confinement.  Desperate, he offered himself as an informant to Robert Morgenthau, the New York U.S. Attorney.  Morgenthau, in turn, put him in contact with agents of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics.

The agents quickly transferred Valachi from Atlanta Federal Prison to the first of a series of military bases.  But the sessions between him and the agents went badly.  He still blamed them for his imprisonment in 1960.  And he believed they had deliberately created a rift between him and Geno

Copyright@1984 Taking Cover: Inside the Witness Security Program, by Steffen White and Richard St. Germain

WITNESS-SECURITY: A BLOODSTAINED HISTORY: PART TWO (OF TEN)

In History, Law, Law Enforcement on June 5, 2013 at 12:00 am

The testimony of Abe “Kid Twist” Reles’ propelled seven Mafia assassins or lieutenants into the electric chair—a feat never before or since equaled.  Among these was Louis “Lepke” Buchalter, whose execution, in 1944, makes him to date the only mob boss to suffer the fullest penalty of the law.

Reles’ career as a witness earned him the hatred of mobsters throughout the nation.  The Mafia put out a $100,000 contract on him and hoped that one of its hitmen proved lucky or skillful enough to collect on it.  But no hitman ever tried, for Reles was too carefully guarded, and the mobsters knew it.

When he wasn’t testifying in court, Reles was quartered in a secured room on the sixth floor of the Half Moon Hotel on Coney Island.  There he dined on thick steaks and cold beers and listened to ballgames on the radio.  Eighteen officers of the NYPD, working in three, eight-hour, six-man shifts, protected him at all times.

Despite these precautions, the witnessing career of Abe “Kid Twist” Reles ended abruptly on November 12, 1941.  Sometime around dawn, Reles “fell” to his death from one of the windows of his sixth-floor room.

Abe Reles in death

The sudden death of the prosecution’s star witness scandalized the NYPD.  Local newspapers questioned the integrity of the officers on the Reles security detail.  Both the police and the Brooklyn District Attorney’s office launched investigations to learn whether Reles had died as the result of an accident—or  murder.

But the NYPD quickly moved to protect itself from blame.  Its final report shifted blame for Reles’ death from his bodyguards to the victim himself.  According to this version: Reles, a “notorious” practical joker, had tied two bedsheets together and slipped out of his window to play a trick on his guards.

He intended to enter a vacant room, just below his own, and then walk back upstairs to surprise his protectors.  Unfortunately, his makeshift rope snapped, and he plunged to his death forty-two feet below.

Two bedsheets, knotted together, were in fact discovered near Reles’ corpse.  That seemed to support the police theory of the rope-ladder escape attempt.  But the police could not explain why Reles had landed twenty feet from the wall.

More than twenty years later, Joseph Valachi, an aging Mafia hitman, became the Justice Department’s own version of Abe Reles.  Before dying—of a heart attack—Valachi offered his own view on what had happened to Reles: “I never met anybody yet who thought Reles went out that window on purpose.”

The next important organized crime witnesses to die while under “protective custody” by local police was Peter La Tempa, a cigar store salesman with rackets connections.

His testimony could have supported that of another witness, Ernest “The Hawk”  Rupollo.   Rupollo’s  testimony  linked  Vito Genovese, one of the nation’s most-feared Mafia bosses, with the murder of a Genovese henchman, Ferdinand Boccia, in 1934.

But La Tempa never got the chance to testify.  On January 15, 1945, he swallowed what he thought were pain-killers for his gallstones.  A New York toxicologist later reported there was enough poison in La Tempa’s bloodstream “to kill eight horses.”  At the time of his death, he was being held under police guard in a Brooklyn jail cell.

The circumstances behind La Tempa’s murder were never satisfactorily explained.  The police claimed they couldn’t determine how poison pills had been substituted for the victim’s regular medication.  Nor was anyone ever indicted—exactly the scenario that had followed the equally mysterious death of Abe Reles.

With La Tempa dead, the testimony of Ernest Rupollo could not be corroborated.  The Brooklyn District Attorney’s office dropped the murder charge it had leveled against him to compel his testimony.  Prosecutors declared him a free man, but the Mafia declared him a hunted one.

For eighteen years, Rupollo somehow eluded his pursuers.  Finally, on August 17, 1964, his bullet-riddled body, weighted with chains and concrete blocks, washed ashore in New York.  Four Mafia figures were later fried for the murder, but were acquitted.

Yet another witness to come forward—and die for it—was Arnold Schuster, a shoe salesman. One night in early 1952, he spotted Willie “The Actor” Sutton, a notorious bank robber, on the New York subway.  Schuster tipped off police, who arrested Sutton.

For several days, the mild-mannered Schuster became a minor celebrity.  Then he became a dead one: on March 8, 1952, two gunmen shot him down on the street.

The murder baffled police; Sutton was known as a loner without ties to killers or organized crime.

More than ten years later, the truth finally emerged.  According to Joseph Valachi, the man responsible for Arnold Schuster’s murder was Albert Anastasia, the former boss of Murder, Inc.

Only the untimely death of Abe Reles had prevented Anastasia’s own in the electric chair.  In 1952, he was still one of the most-feared Mafia chieftains in the nation.

Albert Anastasia

Anastasia had seen Schuster being interviewed on television and had flown into a rage.  “I hate squealers!” he had screamed to three of his executioners who were in the room at the time.  “Hit that guy!”

As Valachi saw it, the killing of Arnold Schuster was simply Anastasia’s way of doing a favor for a fellow criminal, even though he had never met Sutton.

Copyright@1984 Taking Cover: Inside the Witness Security Program, by Steffen White and Richard St. Germain

WITNESS-SECURITY: A BLOODSTAINED HISTORY: PART ONE (OF TEN)

In History, Law, Law Enforcement on June 4, 2013 at 12:03 am

Witness-protection has a long and bloodstained history–with the blood belonging to early witnesses against the Mafia.

Fortunately, that has since changed.  Today the Witness Security Program, operated by the U.S. Marshals Service for the Justice Department, is the world’s most sophisticated and effective means of protecting organized crime witnesses.

But before there was the Program (otherwise known as WITSEC), witness-security was provided by local police departments.

Abe “Kid Twist” Reles became the first important mobster to betray the secrets of the Mafia—and the first to die for doing so.

Abe Reles

Since his first arrest at sixteen in 1924, Reles had been in almost constant trouble with the law.  His police record listed forty-two arrests, including six for murder.  He had been sent to prison six times.

What his police record failed to disclose was that, for the last ten years, he had been a highly-paid assassin for Murder, Inc., the execution squad of the New York Mafia.

Then, in early 1940, Reles and two of his fellow killers were arrested and indicted for the 1936 gangland slaying of Alex “Red” Alpert.  Now facing almost certain conviction and death in the electric chair, Reles decided to cut a life-saving deal, even if it came at the Mafia’s expense.

On March 31, 1940, more than forty days after his arrest, Reles sent his wife to the office of Brooklyn District Attorney William O’Dwyer.  Her message: “My husband wants an interview with the law.”

The politically-ambitions O’Dwyer ordered Reles’ immediate release from his cell in the Tombs in Manhattan.  Guards then rushed the killer to the office of the district attorney.

There Reles demanded a private interview with O’Dwyer to propose a nonnegotiable deal: he would tell the prosecutors everything they wanted to know about the Mafia.  More importantly, he agreed to testify in court against his fellow mobsters.

In exchange, he demanded the immediate dropping of all charges against him.  He also insisted on immunity from prosecution on the basis of any testimony that he or anyone else might give.  Finally, once his career as a witnesses ended, he must be granted his complete freedom.

O’Dwyer quickly agreed to these conditions.  Then he ordered that his new prize witness be placed under heavy, constant police guard.

Abe Reles opened his confessions with the details of 50 gangland murders.  His photographic memory cited the names of the victims—and their killers.  He also remembered the names of those who had ordered the killings.  And he supplied names of others who could corroborate his testimony.

Altogether, Reles’ first  gush of testimony lasted 12 days and filled 25 stenographic notebooks.

For the first time, prosecutors learned how the Mafia had turned murder into a lucrative, smoothly-operating business.

In 1930, the chiefs of the five most powerful Mafia “families” in New York had created an execution squad to enforce underworld discipline. Its targets were informers and rival mobsters.

Commanding this squad were the dreaded labor racketeers Albert “The Lord High Executioner” Anastasia and Louis “Lepke” Buchalter.

For ten years, the squad’s killers roamed the nation, carrying out perhaps as many as 9,000 executions.  Police were baffled; there didn’t seem any motive for the killings.  The victims lacked any known ties to their killers, and the assassins usually lived far from the scenes of their carnage.

“Lepke” Buchalter not only turned murder into a business, he adopted business terms to serve as an underworld code.  An assignment to murder was a “contract”; a “hit” was the actual murder; and the “bum” or “mark” was the victim.

Each killer was known as a “hitman,” and earned $1,000 to $5,000 per hit.  The amount depended on the status of the victim and the risks involved in his execution.

The killers drew on their own expense accounts and coverage by generous injury insurance and family-care funds.  In the rare event of their arrest, highly-paid attorneys rushed to their defense.  And they could count on their fellow assassins to remove any troublesome prosecution witnesses.

The Mafia not only had its own execution squad; it also ran a “hideout network” for mobsters on the run from the law.  Such fugitives could quickly obtain jobs—and even new identities—through organized crime groups in other cities or states.

If necessary, they could go permanently underground as “legitimate” employees of mob-owned unions or businesses.  As a result, organized crime boasted a “new identities” program vastly superior to anything existing for organized crime witnesses until 1967.

Copyright@1984 Taking Cover: Inside the Witness Security Program, by Steffen White and Richard St. Germain