On the night of December 16, 1985, Paul Castellano, the head of one of the most powerful Mafia families in America, was gunned down outside Sparks Steak House in downtown Manhattan. The newspapers raced to cover the killing, offering various theories about why Castellano had been eliminated. But they all agreed on one thing: John Gotti was the new boss of the Gambino family.
No one could have guessed at the time that Gotti’s name would soon dominate the front pages of leading American publications. For nearly a decade, his face appeared in newspapers and on television screens more often than the face of the President of the United States. Journalists built careers covering him. TV channels saw ratings soar. Government officials who tried to put him away made their names. This is the story of a gangster whose popularity rivaled that of Al Capone.
John Gotti was born on October 27, 1940, into a poor family in New York. His father, also named John, struggled to hold down a job and wasted most of his money on gambling. The household was filled with constant shouting and conflict. Young John preferred the noisy streets of his neighborhood, where the realm of Cosa Nostra flourished. The gangsters in expensive suits and cool cars represented a life he could only dream of.
At age 12, Gotti began running errands for local mobsters. His first recorded crime came in 1954, an unsuccessful attempt to steal a construction mixer. By 16, he had dropped out of school and joined a teenage gang called the Fulton Rockaway Boys, which specialized in shoplifting and car theft. It was there he formed friendships with Angelo Ruggiero and Willie Johnson, men who would later join him in the Bergen crew of the Gambino family.
In 1957, Gotti committed a beating at the request of a local mobster, marking his transition from independent criminal to partner of Cosa Nostra. Between 1957 and 1961, he was arrested five times for petty crimes but escaped punishment each time. That changed in 1968. Gotti had been robbing trucks carrying goods from the airport, tipped off by airport employees who owed money to local mobsters. After one such tip, Gotti and his associates were caught by FBI agents during a routine inspection. He ended up behind bars.
Gotti stayed in prison until 1972. When he got out, he became a confidante of Captain Carmine Fatico, acting as his eyes and ears on the street. Around this time, Gotti also met Neil Dellacroce, the second-in-command of the Gambino family. Dellacroce became a mentor to Gotti and took an interest in his career. In 1973, Dellacroce, with the approval of boss Carlo Gambino, commissioned Gotti to kill James McBratney, the man responsible for the kidnapping and murder of Gambino’s nephew.
Gotti and two accomplices found McBratney in a bar. Posing as police officers, they tried to take him outside, but McBratney resisted. A fight broke out, and McBratney was shot dead in the middle of the bar. Witnesses identified Gotti, and he was placed on the wanted list. He evaded capture for over a year before being arrested in May 1974. Carlo Gambino, grateful for Gotti’s work, hired one of New York’s best lawyers, Roy Cohn, to defend him. The charge was reduced to manslaughter, and Gotti served just two years.
While Gotti was in prison, Carlo Gambino died. Before his death, Gambino named Paul Castellano as his successor, splitting the family into two factions. One faction supported Castellano, made up mostly of white-collar criminals who earned money through non-violent schemes. The other sided with Dellacroce, dominated by blue-collar workers who did the dirty work. The gap between the groups grew over time. Gotti, who had hoped Dellacroce would become boss, found himself on the losing side.
There was one silver lining. Castellano reopened the books, allowing new members to join the family. After his release in 1977, Gotti was officially welcomed into Cosa Nostra. He became acting captain of the Bergen crew, filling in for the aging Carmine Fatico. Gotti’s inner circle included his brother Gene, John Carneglia, Anthony Rampino, and Willie Johnson. As captain, Gotti received a percentage of local gambling operations and bookmaking profits. But his gambling habits were extreme. He lost tens of thousands of dollars a month, and no one could understand where the money came from.
The answer was drugs. Gotti publicly supported Castellano’s prohibition on the drug trade, but privately he took a percentage of his crew’s heroin and cocaine earnings. In 1983, several of his men were arrested on heroin trafficking charges, including Gene Gotti, John Carneglia, and Angelo Ruggiero. Wiretap recordings captured Ruggiero speaking openly about drug deals. Under the laws of Cosa Nostra, this should have meant death. But Dellacroce, who was dying of cancer, convinced Castellano to delay any decision.
The tapes were eventually made public in 1985, and Castellano learned the truth. The only thing protecting Gotti’s crew was Dellacroce’s support, and Dellacroce was getting worse by the day. Realizing his position was precarious, Gotti decided to strike first. He brought Sammy Gravano, Robert DiBernardo, and Frankie DeCicco into his conspiracy. Captain Joe Armani joined later. The conspirators checked with the other Mafia families. Three of the four other New York families did not object to Castellano’s removal. Only the Genovese family, whose boss Vincent Gigante was close to Castellano, might have posed a problem.
Dellacroce died in early December 1985. Castellano immediately began planning to dismantle Gotti’s crew and demote him. The assassination had to happen quickly. On December 16, Castellano summoned DeCicco to a meeting at Sparks restaurant. The conspirators knew the time and place. Eleven men were assigned to the hit. Four gunmen were positioned at the scene. When Castellano arrived and got out of his car, they opened fire, killing him and his driver instantly.
With Castellano eliminated, Gotti moved to seize power. He asked consigliere Joe Gallo to call a meeting of all Gambino captains. At a second meeting, Gotti was unanimously elected boss. Frankie DeCicco became his underboss. In just a few weeks, Gotti had climbed to the top of the Mafia hierarchy.
The murder of Castellano also made Gotti a media sensation. The shooting at Sparks had drawn enormous public interest, and Gotti became the center of attention. From his first public appearance in court in January 1986, he captivated the press. Journalists were used to gangsters who avoided the spotlight. Gotti was different. He was well-dressed, confident, and happy to answer questions like a politician. He once said, “It’s my audience. Let them watch.”
But not everyone was impressed. Vincent Gigante, the boss of the Genovese family, began plotting against Gotti. He recruited Gambino Captain James Fila, promising him support to become boss after Gotti’s death. Another conspirator, Anthony Casso of the Lucchese family, planned to blow up Gotti and DeCicco at a meeting. Gotti did not show up, but the bomb killed DeCicco.
Meanwhile, Gotti faced legal troubles. He was acquitted in an assault case after the witness suddenly failed to recognize him. But a more serious RICO case was being built by prosecutor Diane Giacalone. Gotti was charged with crimes including the airport theft and the manslaughter of McBratney. To win, he resorted to witness intimidation. One witness reported the harassment, and Gotti was sent to jail pending trial.
While in prison, Gotti appointed Joe Armani as underboss. Sammy Gravano was left in de facto control of the family. Gotti’s defense strategy relied on discrediting the prosecutor and manipulating public opinion. But the real key to his acquittal was a corrupt juror named George Pape. Pape contacted the Irish Westies gang, who had business ties with the Gambino family, and offered to fix the trial. Gotti approved, and $60,000 changed hands.
In March 1987, John Gotti was acquitted on all counts. The trial had been a farce, but the public didn’t know it. Gotti walked out of the courtroom to a standing ovation. He was treated like a champion boxer. Time Magazine even commissioned a portrait of him by Andy Warhol and put it on its cover.
Gotti’s life became a hedonist’s paradise. He woke up in the afternoon, visited his social club, dined at nice restaurants, and spent nights at New York nightclubs with his mistress. Famous actors, singers, and athletes were happy to meet him. Mickey Rourke, Anthony Quinn, and John Voight were among his admirers. Ordinary people approached his table just to shake his hand. The media portrayed him as a modern Robin Hood, a man of the people who could beat the system.
But not everyone adored him. Two men attempted to kill him. The first, Jeffrey Ciccone, ambushed Gotti outside a social club but missed. Under torture, he claimed God had sent him to kill the devil. The second, Michael McRae, planted a bomb that never went off. He later wrote to the Archbishop of New York demanding a meeting with Gotti. Police found him in Tennessee, sitting in a car reading a Bible surrounded by weapons.
Law enforcement also wanted Gotti behind bars. The FBI, the police, and multiple prosecutors all competed to bring him down. Some took a sprint approach, rushing to trial. Others planned a marathon, gathering overwhelming evidence. The sprint failed. In 1990, Gotti was acquitted in the attempted murder case of union leader O’Connor. The evidence was too weak.
The marathoners, however, were closing in. FBI agents had been monitoring Gotti’s social club, the Ravenite, in Little Italy. They installed video surveillance and listening devices. Gotti held sensitive conversations in an apartment above the club, believing it was safe. He was wrong. The FBI had bugged it too.
Gotti’s own words doomed him. In recorded conversations, he named himself as boss, Gravano as consigliere, and discussed murders, gambling, and his involvement in Cosa Nostra. He even bragged about killing Castellano. The FBI had all the evidence they needed.
In December 1990, Gotti, Gravano, and Frankie Locascio were arrested. At the bail hearing, prosecutors played the tapes. Gravano heard Gotti complaining about his greed and accusing him of forcing murder orders. Gravano realized Gotti might pin everything on him. In October 1991, Gravano offered his services to the FBI as a witness.
Gotti’s trial became a media circus. Celebrities attended court sessions to support him. Crowds gathered outside with placards chanting his name. But Gravano’s testimony was devastating. He detailed Gotti’s crimes, including the murder of Castellano. The jury found Gotti guilty on all counts.
When the life sentence was announced, a crowd of about a thousand people gathered outside the courthouse. They chanted “Free John Gotti” and clashed with police. It was the last flash of Gotti’s star.
Gotti was sent to prison in 1992 and placed in solitary confinement. He received hundreds of letters from fans but faded without attention. In 1998, he was diagnosed with throat cancer, which left him unable to speak. It was symbolic. His love of talking had raised him to the top and then brought him down.
John Gotti died in a prison hospital in June 2002. His story remains the clearest example of what happens when a thug decides to step into the spotlight.