The Godfather turned 50 this month. And two recent deaths have provoked debate about how the American Mafia has changed since the release of Mario Puzo’s wildly popular crime novel.
The first death, that of Carmine Persico after 33 years in federal prison, closed a chapter in organized crime history. The head of the Columbo family, “the Snake” had managed to run his crime syndicate until the late ’90s despite his incarceration. Sentenced for racketeering, gambling, drug trafficking, and extortion, Persico was no well-dressed executive type. He had been charged with murder as early as age 17.
“The Godfather” film and its successor, widely considered to be among the best movies ever made, crystallized the image of the suave Italian crime boss in American mythos. But the lives of the real mob leaders tell a different story.
Earlier this month, a gunman shot Francesco Cali, said to be the head of the Gambino family, several times outside his Staten Island home. This kind of open Mafia killing hasn’t happened since 1985, when John J. Gotti ordered another Gambino boss’s assassination outside a Manhattan steakhouse. The hit permitted Gotti’s rise to power.
Police are still questioning the Cali shooter’s motive and whether he acted on someone else’s orders. It appears the suspect drove into Cali’s car, then knocked on his door to explain what had happened. As Cali walked toward his car, the killer shot at him 12 times.
Because this type of hit hasn’t happened in more than three decades, and because it took 10 bullet wounds to ensure Cali’s death, the hit indicates a bigger feud, perhaps even the start of a mob war.
Since America became enthralled by Puzo’s Corleone family, the grip the New York Mafia’s “five families” held on law enforcement and local industries has dwindled. But it hasn’t died.
Beyond the decline and possible resurgence of the mob, there’s another way the Mafia has evolved since 1969: through the American consciousness. The Godfather depicted gangsters as ruthless but also as fundamentally principled people. If they killed or tortured anyone, they did it for the family.
But Persico and Cali were no martyrs. Persico instigated bribery and racketeering and, allegedly, murder. More than a decade ago, Cali was sentenced to 16 months in prison for an extortion conspiracy. Yet if you read The Godfather, you can’t help but feel some sympathy for this type of tie-wearing, “make him an offer he can’t refuse” character.
The power of the Mafia has diminished, but thanks in part to Vito Corleone, the myth of the Italian-American gangster lives on.
