SearchIt was December 1942 and the snowflakes were falling in Kansas City. That's what I remember--the snowflakes.
The adults were concerned with things other than snowflakes. All US forces in the Philippines had surrendered. In the battle of Midway, four Japanese carriers had been sunk.
In Kansas City, there was the Pendergast machine. It was still working --a marriage of the underworld to the political world. Tom (Boss) Pendergast was out of prison again. The underworld bosses, the "power elite", were controlling gambling, prostitution, liquor interests, business contracts and power over the Kansas City Police Department. His power base was in the North End, "Little Italy" it was called. Pendergast was its name, corruption was its game.
Johnny Lazia was dead. He had been murdered with the same machine gun used in the Union Station Massacre. The five "Iron Men" were in control: Charles Binaggio, James Balestrere, Charles (Mad dog) Gargotta, Anthony Gizzo, and Gaetano (The Enforcer) Lococo, the most skillful and experienced killer in the city.
My Dad had not been accepted into the Armed Forces of WWII. He was "too old" at 37 and had "too many children" (5), so he had joined the police department. He was a tough cookie. No wonder we were afraid of him. More often than not, he forgot to be fun and happy with his children and instead, he policed us as though we were thugs and felons.
December 31, 1942 he received his Police Officer's Commission and began his fight against those things mentioned above. He eventually resigned from the Police Department stating, "You can't be honest and be a policeman!" Honesty, trust, were important things he was trying to teach his children by his words and by his example.
December 50 years later, my Dad the Honest Cop, and "The Enforcer" of the KC Mafia, were both residents of the same Nursing Center and I was one of the nurses for them both. Its funny how life turns out. With end-stage Alzheimer's disease, my Dad forgot everything in life except how to smile--the same smile he regained sometime after leaving the police department.
But, "The Enforcer" remembered far too much. A wizened little man afraid of meeting his maker, he would lie in his bed refusing to leave his room, refusing his showers fearing he would catch pneumonia and die. He could be heard mumbling to himself repeatedly, "I can't face The Face! I can't make The Make!"
© Broses. All rights reserved by the author.
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July 3, 2009, 02:50
Cool site.