Confessions of a lifetime gambler-retiring after 50 years

Depressed from my breakup,with her voice echoing in my head,"your never going to leave Boston." I figured the best solution was to get out of town and head west. I packed up an old SAAB and off I went toward Marin county, California.   I rolled into San Francisco in early December and dug up an old friend from Boston who like the rest of us from southie had all my bad habits and then some. Pete was going to USF and had a nice place in a converted building in Mission Hill totally re-done by two ga.y guys that owned the building it wasn't  fancy but was clean and convenient and he had an extra room.My old SAAB gasped it's last breath as I entered San Francisco so I went out bought a 1967 Alfa Romeo spider veloce convertible a light yellow color with intentions of touring California. I worked my way all through Marin Country, up the coast highways to the Russian River and Mendocino County and then down Rte1 to Monterey and Big Sur and on to LA through Laguna Beach and finally turned around in La Jolla. I met a shiitload of people,looked up friends of friends and took  up with a  young lady  or ten  whenever I found one willing.

I had been on the coast for about a month working on putting together a west coast crew we had plans to branch out but although I found a few guys, things were different in the west and you could say the laid back attitude got in the way.

I flew back and forth between Northern California and Boston for the next few years. We did open up a small west coast branch with an office in Laguna Beach and covered most of LA with a small group of picked mostly transplanted easterners. We took action which we laid off in NY and Boston with a few guys in Vegas getting some. We imported products from south of the border. We bought an airplane and hired a pilot, bought various boats including a 70 ft fishing longline vessel in Rockland Maine. I also had bought a 55 glass gill netter out of Portsmouth hired various captain to fish , started selling fish and flying it out of South shore of Boston to Colorado and west.We brought grade A maple syrup from Vermont and tupelo honey from Florida selling to health food stores on the coast . Mexican blankets and redwood burls made the return trip with a few choice hidden items. Colorado beef was another favorite always small volume sold direct for high dollars.We chugged along until the mid seventies and the squad swelled to about 25 we had houses and tribe members in about 10 states.  The cash machine was out of control we were clearing on average six to high six figures a month in profit about a quarter of that from a growing legit business.

 Coins became adept at laundering cash and setting up dummy companies and offshore bank accounts so we were on a solid basis and basically thought we were untouchable...thought we were untouchable.

In Boston a new younger was coming up in the Boston Italian scene a junior boss of the north end mob, he had moved into protection, targeting operations like ours that hit the periphery of the gambling families and sold dope.

An old  book I knew in southie tipped me off in February of 1973 that our little group was getting some unhealthy attention and the word was we were due for a visit. I smelled a shakedown and wanted nothing to do with it. 

I went to see Abe to talk things out.

Abe lived in a western suburb of Boston in a huge old colonial on about 30 acres. The property was beautiful meadows separated by rock walls. As you entered the drive you had to pass a stucco carriage house where two of his boys for personal security and a large stucco barn. with white picket fences and corals. He kept horses and a variety of other farm animals and loved to walk his property he was pushing mid-eighties and neighbors often saw him walking two irish setters through his fields with his scotch cap and a walking stick, sometime even in knickers. Abe was a piece of work but always a gentleman and if anyone could help us out of this tightening noose it would be Abe.  

The afternoon I showed up in his dooryard was cold  and Buddy, Abe’s guy told me he was expecting me that his Mrs wasn't home to go right up to the house and holler.

Making my way in I called for Abe and found him in the kitchen sitting at the kitchen table reading the Boston Herald. When he saw me come in he said, “Well, well you been  getting yourself in hot water I hear.” Damn I guess I was the last one to know.

Abe told me this new kid,  Angelo was part of the family by marriage and had never made his bones he was a punk a wanna be.that somehow gotten in with Gennaro Angiulo who at the time was the big boss in Boston a direct old school guy from the Patriarca family.

This kid, Angelo,  had sold the bill of goods that various groups around Boston were cutting into the traditional turf the north end families and making millions selling weed in and out of neighborhoods they controlled without paying a dime.

Squads of specialized mob sanctioned  rip off artists started to appear they were from Somerville and north Boston they specialized in hitting pot smugglers and dealers.

A group like ours was an easy target because we were bookmakers as well as weed movers and were unprotected in our shops taking calls during booking hours.

Abe was very gracious in his warnings and said he would see how hot the iron was and get back to me. We took immediate precautions and moved all weed dealers out of the shops where any form of book was made.

We basically stopped moving product through anyone connected and told everyone we had quit selling.

Angelo and I never did meet as that visit was avoided by Abe’s assurances that we were good boys and would stay out of the north end, he negotiated a one time 25k payment for past business. We agreed through Abe that the matter was closed and no further claims would be made and none paid.

                        By way of explanation

                                 The few already shared chapters(if you will)are totally unedited. The story so far  represents my personal journey in the early years. Not be being deceased yet, names had to be altered but most nicknames have not.

        This story came about as I started kicking around retirement.

        Thinking of stopping gambling. at retirement age

    The story is devoted so far to the building of the bankroll and some are happy I am sharing any of it especially on covers.

        Just trying to fill some time I thought some might find the tale interesting.

        Let's say that after the bankroll gets it’s start the gambling began in earnest

       That story is yet to come but some early history was necessary.

       Gaging the interest, so far, I’m telling the tale for my kids more than anyone else

       Someday maybe they will get a kick out of it.

      After a lifetime of secrecy it’s hard to just blurt it all out.

       I am not particularly proud of my life but I’m not ashamed either and least it’s been far from boring.

 The season of the 1975/76 Celtics was a huge year for us the thanks would have to go to game 5 of

the NBA finals that year.

 ‘The Celtics lost Don Chaney to the American Basketball Association before the 1975-76 season. To fill the gap in the backcourt they traded Paul Westphal to Phoenix for Charlie Scott, who had averaged more than 20 points in each of the previous three seasons. Despite an uncharacteristically weak bench, the Celtics finished in first place in their division with a 54-28 record, second best in the league. Boston earned a shot at another NBA title by defeating Buffalo and then the Cleveland Cavaliers in the playoffs.

Boston's opponents in the NBA Finals were the Phoenix Suns, who had posted a 42-40 regular-season record. The Team in Green was the oddsmakers' choice in the contest. The Celtics took the first two games at Boston Garden, but the Suns came right back to win Games 3 and 4 on their home court. Game 5 ranks among the all-time thrillers in NBA history. The Suns trailed by five points with less than a minute left on the clock, but Westphal made up the deficit almost single-handedly, sending the game into a first overtime period, which ended in a tie

You would think being Boston bookmakers that when the Celtics came out on top Boston books came out on the bottom which is usually the case. 1975/76 game five was our first real dream game  We formed a group within our group that later became known as the “think tank.’ We pooled our own private funds and began working as a consortium, a small syndicate. It was open to all in the family but really only ten of us became active and contributed our time, as well as funds, to place wagers for the group anonymously. The offices of the bookmakers taking the laid off action never really knew that it was coming from the inside.

My friend Mark had an associate in Phoenix and he was very big in the area, a made guy but from what family I never knew but he was solid and did good business so we trusted him. The day of game 5 the line opened in Boston at -2 but in Phoenix it was a pic. The largest action we had ever taken was all on Boston and we loved the spot so Mark laid off 1.5 million in Phoenix. It represented the action from all of our offices, and that included a 100 k private contribution from the newly formed 'think tank'. We put a guy on the road at 3 in the afternoon before the offices had even closed and had him head straight for Phoenix with a silver american tourister suitcase with 1.5 mill  in 20’s in it.  

In those days without electronic transfer of funds cash moved by hand. Good faith was to have the cash ready for either outcome when working out of town.

After we settled up that week our coffers held 1.4 million more than before the game. The ‘think tank’ made a nice 10k per man and we were all very happy campers.

It was about this time that things started to change politically and not in a good way.

We were cashing nicely from both sides and everything seemed to progressing smoothly when Abe died.

Abe had always been our protection our way past the pitfalls of independence.

Mark took over for Abe and ran things to the best of his ability but not having the clout that Abe had there was little he could do when we ran amuck with another book. We had lost our advocate and this was a very big deal and soon to get even bigger.

Our man in NY was from the same chain as Abe and held status but he was not in Boston so if you had a problem you had to go through NY to negotiate for you back in Boston and this was highly ineffective.

Although our guy had the position and slid right in, the territory became open and other books from other parts of the city were soon to move in hard on us making it difficult.

The real problem occurred not with the taking of play but in the collection process.If you had a guy on your pad who was into you if he could go down the street and make a play with a legit guy from one of the other protected offices when it came time to collect who gets paid first. If the other office is protected then you can’t control your player by cutting him off and you can’t really give him a beating because you are messing with another office’s action as well. 

When Abe was alive we used to just go to the him when there was a conflict and Abe worked it out for us. We now had to complain in NY and Boston crews would all just say FU to NY and nothing got accomplished.

We were the losers in this situation and it really sucked.We lost action but still were going pretty strong through NY but it was harder than it had been.

Julie was moving in high gear and the other side of the business s just keep growing and cashing at a fantastic rate.

It was about this time when cocaine came into the picture.

What had once been an exciting gentleman’s game, if you will, turned very quickly into a whole different scene.A bad scene!