Peacekeeper - 1969

The small waste can bounced off of my brother’s head and he slammed into the picture frame, shattering the glass and cutting his wrist as he fell to the ground. The old man stood over him, yelling, “That’s your mother- she’s MY girlfriend and that’s who I care about!”

He was about to strike another blow, he was like that, given to seemingly out of control rages, though I had often suspected he was, at all times, by virtue of his outbursts, in perfect control. My slender, but firm, hand reached out to stay his arm as he arched it backwards. “That’s enough!” I yelled. “He’s bleeding!”

The old man stood back and surveyed the damage he had done. His eyes took in the form of his crumpled older boy on the floor, weeping; and the broken frame and glass which sprinkled the black and white tiles of the foyer, the blood on the wall, and he stared in disbelief.

I began to clean up the mess as the two former combatants, who had only moments before been so bold and loud toward one another, slunk away, as if by doing so they could undo what had just happened.

The glass was cleaned up, and the frame removed to some long forgotten corner of a closet. The old man finished cleaning and dressing my brother's wound, and then we all went to the hospital to see Mom.

It was Valentine’s Day 1969. My brother was 16 that day and wanted to see his girlfriend, whom he would later marry. My father wanted to have a little birthday/Valentine’s Day party in the day room at the hospital for my Mom. I just wanted to see her. And she just wanted to see us.

Why am I writing this story now, after so many years? What point am I trying to make? Only that the simplest of emotions, and the best of intentions, can sometimes both backfire and blow up in your face. There is no explanation for our emotions, sometimes there is only damage control.

Note: The photograph was taken in July of 1969 on a trip to Florida. The flag, at St. Augustine, is flying at half staff. I have always remembered this as being in honor of Senator Everett Dirksen, who had just passed away. Evidently my memory fails me, as Senator Dirksen did not pass away until September.

The Bitter Man

'Tis a bitter man I am, man.
'tis a bitter man I am.
They didn't allow all that I can, man.
So, 'tis a bitter man I am.

They left me in a jam, man.
They did this and then ran.
Left me doing what I can, man.
Now, 'tis a bitter man, I am.

NOTE: Illustration by Fred Bernard.                                                                             

"The Boy at the Window" - Richard Wilbur (1952)

This is another of my favorite poems. The stark imagery of the outdoors; as endured by the Snowman; juxtaposed against the warmth and love which the boy experiences indoors; breaks my heart each time I read it.

And the sympathy of the snowman as he melts is truly amazing. Being born to die he has no fears at all, while the boy remains trapped, fearing the loss of the things which he only thinks he possesses; but which in reality possess him. (Photo of Sue and her snowman in 2017.)

"The Boy at the Window" - Richard Wilbur

Seeing the snowman standing all alone
In dusk and cold is more than he can bear.
The small boy weeps to hear the wind prepare
A night of gnashings and enormous moan.

His tearful sight can hardly reach to where
The pale faced figure with bitumen eyes
Returns him such a godforsaken stare
As outcast Adam gave to Paradise.

The man of snow is, nonetheless, content
Having no wish to go inside and die.
Still, he is moved to
see the youngster cry.

Though water is his element,
He melts enough to drop from one soft eye
A trickle of the purest rain, a tear
For the child at the bright pane surrounded by
Such warmth, such light, such love,
and so much fear.

A Mafia Christmas - 1946

December 10, 1946. J. Edgar Hoover and Walter Winchell meet in NYC for the funeral of mutual friend Damon Runyan, who has just died of cancer. Hoover, who still doesn't believe in the existence of organized crime, outlines plans for the Damon Runyan Cancer Fund.

Meantime, thousands of miles away, a man hands a piece of paper with the words " "December-Hotel Nacional" to Lucky Luciano in Naples. Having recently been forced out of Rome, he is making plans to get back to the Western Hemisphere.

Luciano had been told that if he was able to protect East Coast ports from sabotage, he would be pardoned at the end of the war and deported to Italy as a free man. Luciano agreed to the proposal and helped win the war.

But, after the war ended, New York Governor Thomas E. Dewey would only agree to Luciano's pardon on the condition that he never be allowed back into the U.S. The Fed's agreed and in February 1946 Luciano had been deported.

By November 1946, with 2 false passports, Luciano made his way to South America, and then to Cuba. The Christmas Summit began on December 22nd with the arrival of all of the heads of the various families.

Frank Sinatra arrived on the same plane as the NY families and the conference began that night. By the night of the 24th, Christmas Eve, the topics has become very serious. The future of narcotics distribution worldwide was the vision of Lucky Luciano. Previously the Mob had steered clear of two specific crimes which would involve them with the Feds; drug trafficking and hi-jacking of Interstate trucking.

Prior to the conference, Meyer Lansky suggested that Luciano purchase a $150,000 interest in the Hotel Nacional, the casino owned by Lansky and his silent partner, Cuban President Fulgencio Batista. This was supposed to insulate him from being deported should the US learn he was in Cuba and pressure Batista to deport him, possibly back to Italy, or worse, to the United States.

Another heated topic arose on the night of the 25th. The  Flamingo Hotel opening had been a complete bust. These men at the table had $6 million tied up in what appeared to be a total loss.

This was also the night when it was revealed that Virginia Hill, girlfriend to Bugsy Siegel, mastermind of the Las Vegas venture, had been squirrelling away about $2 million of that money in a Swiss account. Although his fate was not decided that night, plans for Siegel's future were being laid. Shortly after; he would be killed.

But, all was not guns and roses between the two biggest heads; Luciano and Genovese. By the end of the  Conference the tension between the two had reached a breaking point.

Meeting with Luciano in his room at the Nacional, Genovese told him that the U.S. government knew that Luciano was in Cuba and was now pressuring the Cuban Government to expel him. Since Luciano was going to have to return to Italy, Genovese suggested that he should turn over leadership of the Luciano Family to him and retire.

Knowing full well that it was Genovese who had tipped off the US of his being in Cuba, Luciano snapped. He  beat Genovese badly, using a chair leg to break three of his ribs. 

When Genovese felt better, Luciano and Anastasia put him on a plane to the States. Luciano also promised he would kill Genovese if he ever mentioned this incident to anyone.

By February 1947, the New York City papers became aware that Luciano was in Cuba. Bureau of Narcotics agent Harry Anslinger (always referred to as "Asslinger" by Luciano) demanded that Cuba deport him back to Italy. He correctly believed that Luciano was behind the recent surge of heroin into the United States.

When Cuba refused to comply, Anslinger took his case to President Harry S. Truman. The U.S. government then halted all shipments of medical supplies to Cuba while Luciano was still on the island, and the Cubans gave in to the demand.

That is the story of "Peace on Earth" and the Havana Christmas Conference. It would be 12 more years before J. Edgar Hoover conceded that there might be a Mafia, and 17 years until he reluctantly acknowledged it.

Note: Photo from Getty Stock. Luciano back in Sicily 1948.

Christmas with Fruitcake Lady

Forgot all about these precious nuggets of wisdom from the feisty elder stateswoman..... it's a bit of Holiday Cheer for the big day coming.......

My Friend Edgar.

One of the best things about talking with your grown children is finding outt what they were thinking back when they, and we, were both younger.

This photo is of My daughter, Sarah, at Edgar Allan Poe's grave in Baltimore, around 1997. We used to stop there on the way to Ft McHenry, where we spent alot of time, flying kites, or just horsing around.  This is her view of those visits to Poe's grave. It was written 10 years ago.

"Me at the burial site of Edgar Allan Poe, Westminster Hall, in Baltimore, MD. My dad used to take me there on weekend afternoons. This was my favorite of all the old graveyards we visited. I would run around and look at the cool and interesting graves with him.

I especially enjoyed looking for cracks and holes that... would allow me to peak into the old mausoleums. Before leaving, we would always stop at Poe's grave and say farewell.

I didn't understand the significance of that place until I was much older and had read many of Poe's works. I had always thought that he was just some dude my dad used to be friends with!"

Ian Fleming and Pearl Harbor

In August of 1941 Cdr. Ian Fleming was attached to the BSC - British Security Commission. In that capacity he brought over to the United States another British agent named Popov, a Yugoslavian by birth, but a Brit by citizenship.

Popov had earlier supplied information after the German disaster at Tarino on Sicily. In that attack, the British used carrier based aircraft to annihilate a good portion of the German fleet. The Japanese quickly sent over a team to assess the damage done, and, more importantly, try and get a better understanding of how the attack was mounted.

A month later Popov had information concerning the Japanese. They were requesting information from their local Hawaiin agents as to the strength and positioning of ships berthed at Pearl  Harbor, the progress of the channel dregding, the depth of all channels and anti aircraft capabilities.

This information, coupled with the earlier intelligence, were pretty good indications that Japan was going to attack Pearl Harbor. It was only a question of when.

This information became the property of J. Edgar Hoover at the FBI. He was not pleased with the Presidents directive that he share information with the British. He was a notorious Anglophobe, which is to say that he, like the Japanese Colonel Sato in "A Bridge Over the River Kwai", hated the British. So, this info was locked away in August of 1941, having been dismissed by the Director as "nonesense."

In reality he was disgusted with Popovs playboy lifestyle and had even told others on more than one occassion that he considered the Yugoslavian to "be a double agent, using German and American money to live like a degenerate playboy."

And thus was born that old story about how FDR knew in advance of Pearl Harbor and did nothing. J. Edgar Hoover told him it didn't matter. That was in August.