by TwoPiece » Thu Sep 10, 2020 11:20 am
Ozgoz wrote: ↑Thu Sep 10, 2020 5:20 am
I wonder how Corallo faired in Leavenworth.
There’s a book called the hot house tales from Leavenworth which covers his time there but I don’t know if he’s mentioned in it?
Corallo is an interesting character to me, one of those Italian Harlem old world relics that dresses like a nice old grampa but actually is gobbing all over the sidewalk and speaks like “you gotta sell the cocksucking shit.”
One of the unanswered questions is did Amuso / Casso wrest the family from him because being a boss of a family is going to help your status in prison. And as Amuso has shown, doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll chuck you in the supermax.
I suspect at Corallo’s age and wealth it must’ve been a hard pill to swallow going to prison. But he seemed like a mean old bastard so que sera
i love the hot house, great book and i have it on google play. corallo is only mentioned once in a segment where the author is describing some of the different groups in the prison. here's the segment:
The dozen Italians sitting below Pierce were Mafia “wiseguys.” Each wore prison-issued white shorts and cotton shirts, but their clothing had been pressed and was brand-new. Some smoked William Penn cigars at fifty cents apiece, the highest-priced stogies in the commissary. Gold chains dangled from their necks, and a stack of graphite tennis rackets, the most expensive item a convict could special-order at the Hot House store, was nearby. Even though they were watching the ball game, each of the wiseguys was sitting so he could face and hear an older convict in the group. Anthony “Tony Ducks” Corallo didn’t say much, but when he spoke, his comments either brought a solemn nod or a boisterous laugh, depending upon which was appropriate. Corallo was the boss of the New York-based Lucchese crime family, a real-life Mafia godfather, and no one at the Hot House bothered him. Not that anyone had reason to. He was a perfect gentleman. In prison, a Mafioso did his time as quietly as possible because it improved his chances for parole. There was only one time anyone could remember that a Mafia member got into trouble, and that had happened at the penitentiary in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, where Mafia members are frequently housed because of its proximity to New York City. A guard, for some reason, began harassing a wiseguy. Every day the guard searched the inmate’s cell, went through his mail, and frisked him as he walked the compound, until the wiseguy had simply had enough. One day a visitor from outside the prison came to see the wiseguy. The guard saw the visitor slip something into the wiseguy’s hand. “What you got there?” the guard six-year-old daughter playing at her elementary school. “See how easy it can be?” the Mafioso asked. Whether or not the story was true was impossible to tell, but every guard and most inmates in the Hot House had heard it. The message was clear. The Mafia could “reach out into the streets,” and that made guards and other convicts nervous.
[quote=Ozgoz post_id=166964 time=1599740453 user_id=5448]
I wonder how Corallo faired in Leavenworth.
There’s a book called the hot house tales from Leavenworth which covers his time there but I don’t know if he’s mentioned in it?
Corallo is an interesting character to me, one of those Italian Harlem old world relics that dresses like a nice old grampa but actually is gobbing all over the sidewalk and speaks like “you gotta sell the cocksucking shit.”
One of the unanswered questions is did Amuso / Casso wrest the family from him because being a boss of a family is going to help your status in prison. And as Amuso has shown, doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll chuck you in the supermax.
I suspect at Corallo’s age and wealth it must’ve been a hard pill to swallow going to prison. But he seemed like a mean old bastard so que sera
[/quote]
i love the hot house, great book and i have it on google play. corallo is only mentioned once in a segment where the author is describing some of the different groups in the prison. here's the segment:
The dozen Italians sitting below Pierce were Mafia “wiseguys.” Each wore prison-issued white shorts and cotton shirts, but their clothing had been pressed and was brand-new. Some smoked William Penn cigars at fifty cents apiece, the highest-priced stogies in the commissary. Gold chains dangled from their necks, and a stack of graphite tennis rackets, the most expensive item a convict could special-order at the Hot House store, was nearby. Even though they were watching the ball game, each of the wiseguys was sitting so he could face and hear an older convict in the group. Anthony “Tony Ducks” Corallo didn’t say much, but when he spoke, his comments either brought a solemn nod or a boisterous laugh, depending upon which was appropriate. Corallo was the boss of the New York-based Lucchese crime family, a real-life Mafia godfather, and no one at the Hot House bothered him. Not that anyone had reason to. He was a perfect gentleman. In prison, a Mafioso did his time as quietly as possible because it improved his chances for parole. There was only one time anyone could remember that a Mafia member got into trouble, and that had happened at the penitentiary in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, where Mafia members are frequently housed because of its proximity to New York City. A guard, for some reason, began harassing a wiseguy. Every day the guard searched the inmate’s cell, went through his mail, and frisked him as he walked the compound, until the wiseguy had simply had enough. One day a visitor from outside the prison came to see the wiseguy. The guard saw the visitor slip something into the wiseguy’s hand. “What you got there?” the guard six-year-old daughter playing at her elementary school. “See how easy it can be?” the Mafioso asked. Whether or not the story was true was impossible to tell, but every guard and most inmates in the Hot House had heard it. The message was clear. The Mafia could “reach out into the streets,” and that made guards and other convicts nervous.