Surviving the Mob Read online

  Surviving

  the Mob

  A Street Soldier’s Life Inside the Gambino Crime Family

  Dennis N. Griffin

  and Andrew DiDonato

  Huntington Press

  Las Vegas Nevada

  Surviving the Mob

  A Street Soldier’s Life Inside

  the Gambino Crime Family

  Published by

  Huntington Press

  3665 Procyon St.

  Las Vegas, NV 89103

  Phone (702) 252-0655

  e-mail: [email protected]

  Copyright ©2010, Dennis Griffin, Andrew DiDonato

  ISBN: 978-1-935396-27-7

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2010934074

  $14.95us

  Cover Photos: Brooklyn Bridge & Lower Manhattan skyline ©Mario Savoia/Dreamstime.com; Blood Paper ©ctvvele/Dreamstime.com

  Photo Insert Pages: Background, Vintage Postcard ©Mikle15/Dreams-times.com; Courtesy of Andrew DiDonato, pgs. 1, 2, 3, 9, 10 top, and 12; Courtesy of Billy Cutolo, Jr., pg. 4 top; Internet photos, pgs. 4 bottom, 5 top, 6 bottom, 7 bottom, and 8 top; Courtesy of NYPD, pgs. 5 bottom, 7 top, 8 bottom, 10 bottom, and 11; Courtesy of New York Daily News, pgs. 6 top

  Production & Design: Laurie Cabot

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be translated, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the copyright owner.

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to the three most important people in my life. To my wife Lupe, whose love, kindness, and support have made me into a better person in so many ways. And to my daughter Mia, who has brought me happiness beyond anything I could ever have dreamed of.

  And especially to my son Andrew, whom I love and miss more than words can say. The choices I made early in my life didn’t allow me to be there for him as I should have been. I will regret those decisions for the rest of my life. My greatest hope is that through the pages of this book, he will find the long-awaited answers to his questions and come to know who I really am.

  Andrew DiDonato

  Acknowledgments

  The information in this book was derived from a variety of sources, but primarily from Andrew DiDonato himself. However, many other resources provided valuable information to this project, including the New York Post, New York Times, New York Daily News, Jerry Capeci’s Gang Land News, Mafia Today, Mafia News Today, and the websites of the FBI and the United States Department of Justice.

  I also want to extend my special thanks to William Cutolo Jr. for his contribution to the discussion of the murder of his father, William “Wild Bill” Cutolo.

  Several other people deserve mention, but due to their unique situations or for other reasons, they desire to stay in the background. Respecting their wishes, they will remain nameless, but not unappreciated.

  Denny Griffin

  Contents

  Prologue

  Introduction

  1

  A Near-Death Experience

  2

  Learning the Trade

  3

  Making Connections

  4

  Up and Coming

  5

  1984

  6

  1985

  7

  1986

  8

  Gambling and the New York Mob

  9

  1987

  10

  1988

  11

  Trial

  12

  ... and Tribulation

  13

  Back on the Street

  14

  Free Again

  15

  1995

  16

  Beginning of the End

  17

  Fugitive

  18

  Decision Time

  19

  Tremors

  20

  1999

  21

  2000

  22

  A New Beginning

  23

  A Court Date Nears

  24

  The Junior Gotti and Mike Yannotti Trial

  25

  Closing in on Nicky

  26

  Lessons

  Index

  Prologue

  In the summer of 2009, I received an email from a lady who said she had a friend—an erstwhile mobster—who had a story to tell. She said if I was interested to give her a call. I did.

  During my conversation with the woman, I was told that her friend was a former associate—a street soldier—of the Gambino crime family out of New York City. In 1997 he flipped and became a government witness. He testified at several high-profile Mob trials, including John Gotti Junior’s.

  Although he voluntarily left the federal Witness Protection Program, he was still an active witness, who would more than likely have to testify in pending cases. Therefore, his security was an issue. She would only identify him as Andrew. If I wanted to speak with him by phone, she would arrange it. After contemplating her offer for a couple of days, I asked her to put me in touch with him.

  Over the next several days, I communicated with Andrew by phone and email. I learned that his last name was DiDonato. He was born in New York City in 1965 into a Mob-connected family. He had been involved in organized crime since he was a teen. His extensive criminal history included everything from illegal gambling to burglary, armed robbery, attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder. He had served several years in state and federal prisons.

  Andrew explained that he had reached out to me because of my previous Mob biography, Cullotta. Trust was a major issue with him, and he felt I had proved myself—made my bones, if you will—by co-authoring that book with the onetime Chicago Outfit-connected Frank Cullotta.

  Andrew said his goal was to tell the story of life as an associate of an organized-crime family from a street soldier’s perspective. He wanted to show it isn’t the glamorous lifestyle many people think it is, and that when you’re a criminal your actions hurt a lot of people, physically, emotionally, and financially.

  I was intrigued by the project, but there was one very important issue that needed to be put to rest before I committed to helping Andrew with his book. I told him that I wouldn’t get involved unless I was sure he would be totally candid and that the book would be factually accurate.

  He said we both desired the same things: candor and accuracy. Much of the information he planned to disclose had been verified by law enforcement as part of his deal with the government. Events were also documented in newspaper articles and public records. He would only hold back any information that could impact future legal action against former colleagues in which he may have to testify. Andrew’s answer satisfied me that we were on the same page and he began providing me with documents, articles, photos, and sites where I could find information.

  Andrew and I finally met in person in December 2009. In January 2010 we began writing Surviving the Mob.

  In these pages you’ll read extensively about the Gambino crime family. The organization has had many notable bosses over the years, including Carlo Gambino, Paul Castellano, and John Gotti. However, here, the primary focus is on the capo of Andrew’s crew, Nicholas “Nicky” Corozzo.

  Nicky Corozzo was born in Brooklyn, New York, on March 17, 1940. He was one of John Gotti’s chief rivals within the family in the 1980s and rose in power after Gotti’s incarceration in 1992. In 2005, Nicky was recognized by law enforcement as the boss of the Gambinos. So although he may lack the name recognition of some of his predecessors, Nicky Corozzo was a force to be reckoned with in
New York organized crime.

  After you’ve read this book, you’ll have a much better understanding of how an organized-crime crew functions. You’ll know what types of crimes they commit to make their money and how the proceeds are distributed. You’ll learn about Mob politics and myths, that loyalty goes from the bottom up, but not necessarily from the top down. You’ll experience Andrew’s life on the run from the law, while also being under a death sentence from his former colleagues. And you’ll get a taste of what it’s like to do prison time and to be a government witness.

  Denny Griffin

  Las Vegas, January 2010

  Introduction

  My name is Andrew DiDonato. I was born on November 21, 1965, in Queens, New York. I was raised in Brooklyn in a house between two Mafia social clubs. I grew up under the watchful eyes of the neighborhood wiseguys.

  My great-uncle Pasquale “Paddy Mac” Macchiarole was a capo in the Genovese family. When I was 12, Paddy was murdered in a Mob hit. Two months later, his son John was also killed gangland-style. I suppose that being exposed to that kind of violence at such a young age could or should have discouraged me from wanting to live the Mafia life. But it didn’t. Maybe it was my destiny to become a criminal.

  In 1979 at the age of 14, I started down that road. I began by stealing radios, tires, and wheels from cars with other neighborhood kids—some of whom later became affiliated with the same Gambino crew I did.

  Over the next several months, I added shaking down drug dealers, selling marijuana, and stealing cars to my criminal activities. For a 15-year-old kid, I was making pretty good money.

  But my big break in moving up the crime ladder came in 1982. A friend and I got arrested for assault and extortion. You might ask why I say getting busted was a big break. The answer is simple: It brought me to the attention of the criminal powers that be. It showed that I was serious and ambitious, a young guy with nerve and earning potential. These were all qualities the crime bosses looked for when taking on new blood. My arrest opened the door into the world of organized crime.

  For the next 15 years, I was a Gambino street soldier. But I committed crimes with guys from the other New York families too: loansharking, bookmaking, assault, burglary, robbery, bank robbery, counterfeiting, attempted murder, and conspiracy to commit murder. I know now that the things I did hurt a lot of people. But I didn’t realize it then.

  The event that eventually led to my second chance in life came in 1996. A friend and I robbed a drug dealer associated with another crime family of $200,000. The repercussions from that score cost the lives of two people and nearly started a Mob war. They also caused me to become a fugitive from justice for 17 months and a target of my own crew and another family. It was during this time I began to see the Mob for what it really is. I became a cooperating government witness in 1997 and am still active in that capacity today. I’m lucky to be alive and I know it.

  I’m telling my story not to make myself a hero or glamorize organized crime. On the contrary, I did a lot of bad stuff and nothing I do now can change that. This book isn’t an apology or an appeal for sympathy. It’s an explanation. It’s my chance to lay it all out there and let you see what life as a Mob associate is like from the inside. After you’ve read it, you can reach your own conclusions.

  Andrew DiDonato

  October 2010

  1

  A Near-Death Experience

  At approximately 1:50 on the afternoon of April 8, 1988, an elderly woman named Sandra Raiola was walking on East 2nd Street between Avenues O and P in Brooklyn, New York. This was a residential neighborhood that tended to be relatively peaceful and quiet.

  As Sandra walked, she passed two men standing on the sidewalk arguing. A vehicle occupied by a driver was double-parked on the street next to the men. When Sandra neared the corner of Avenue P, she heard a popping noise from behind her, like a car backfiring or a firecracker exploding. She turned around and looked down the street in the direction of the noise. She saw one of the two men who had been arguing lying prone on the sidewalk, screaming, “Help me!” The other man was squatting next to him. Noticing her, the squatting man sprang to his feet and got into the double-parked vehicle. The car then sped past her, ran the red light at the corner of Avenue P, and quickly disappeared from view down East 2nd Street.

  Sandra didn’t know it at the time, but her presence at that location accomplished two very important things. First, it saved the life of the downed man, Ralph Burzo. Second, by doing so, it prevented the other man from becoming a murderer.

  Burzo’s assailant was Andrew DiDonato. He had already fired one round from his handgun into Burzo’s head. It was Burzo’s good fortune that the bullet struck a bone and splintered, causing serious, but not fatal, injuries. After his victim had fallen to the sidewalk, Andrew squatted next to him to administer a second life-ending shot. But before he could pull the trigger, he noticed Raiola watching him and fled the scene.

  However, Andrew’s escape was only temporary. He was arrested a short time later and on May 17, 1988, he was indicted by a Kings County Grand Jury for one count of attempted murder in the second degree, two counts of assault in the first degree, one count of criminal possession of a weapon in the second degree, and one count of criminal possession of a weapon in the third degree.

  Samuel Karkis, the driver of the getaway car, was indicted on the same charges, plus hindering prosecution in the second degree.

  The above account of events was taken primarily from that indictment and relates the facts of what took place. But it doesn’t tell the story. It doesn’t reveal the circumstances that brought Ralph Burzo, Samuel Karkis, and Andrew DiDonato to East 2nd Street near Avenue P that May afternoon. And it doesn’t explain why Andrew wanted Burzo dead.

  The story behind the shooting can’t be addressed in a few sentences or paragraphs. In order to truly understand what happened that day and why, we have to go back out on the streets of Brooklyn nearly a decade before Andrew pulled the trigger.

  2

  Learning the Trade

  In 1980, Andrew DiDonato was living with his mother and stepfather on East 55th Street in Brooklyn. At that time the minimum wage in the United States was $3.10 per hour. Assuming a 14- or 15-year-old boy like Andrew could get a job flipping burgers 20 hours a week after school, he’d gross $62 for his labor. Although Andrew worked when he wasn’t in school, he didn’t toil in a hamburger stand or anything similar. He did his work on the streets, and his weekly income was sometimes in the neighborhood of $1,400 cash. How did a kid his age generate that kind of money? As Andrew explains, it took hard work and nerve.

  “I had two main sources of income in those days. I stole and sold car parts. And I shook down the kids selling marijuana in the neighborhood. I told them they’d either pay me a couple hundred bucks a week or I’d break their head.”

  Andrew knew that if you wanted to be respected on the sidewalks of Brooklyn, you couldn’t just talk the talk. Out there, actions truly spoke louder than words and verbal threats alone weren’t enough to prove you were a force to be reckoned with. That was a lesson of the streets Andrew learned early. And he learned it well.

  “The killings of my uncle and cousin devastated my family. It was the first taste of the reality of how brutal that life can be. Although I didn’t realize it at the time, it was a lesson that ultimately saved my life many years later.”

  Andrew’s own capacity for violence became obvious as he advanced his extortion plans.

  “Shaking down the pot dealers, I began with an act of violence, like a severe beating or a few shots with a baseball bat. I let them know there was worse to come if my demands weren’t met.”

  Andrew wasn’t physically imposing. He stood three inches or so under six feet and weighed around 160 pounds. Some of the dealers he wanted to move in on were bigger than he was and some were as tough, maybe even tougher. But that didn’t deter him. He was thin and athletic and to overcome deficiencies in size or strength, he used th
e element of surprise to get the upper hand on his victim.

  “I’d sneak up behind the guy and whack him with a bat. When he went down, I’d hit him again to make my point. They knew then I had something most of them didn’t. I had the balls to do whatever it took to impose my will. So it really didn’t matter if they were bigger than me. They knew if they fucked around with me, I’d get ’em with my fists, or a bat, or a tire iron. And they’d never even know it was coming. They were afraid of me and that’s the way I wanted it.”

  Did Andrew ever feel guilty about the beatings he administered?

  “I knew most of these dealers from school or the neighborhood. Some of them I didn’t like and enjoyed beating up. But I wasn’t just a bully. I was liked in the neighborhood and gave respect to those who deserved it. This was business, though, and I had to rough up the ones I liked, too. I was making a statement that if you were into selling weed, I wasn’t playing favorites.”

  Andrew’s tactics worked. In addition to the dealers falling into line, word circulated that a new kid out there needed to be taken seriously. In fairly short order, he had most of the young marijuana dealers in Bergen Beach paying him a street tax.