Hey guys, wanting some feedback from perhaps the more knowledgeable posters/researchers. Do we have any evidence of members of LCN with familial ties to the Aeolian Islands?
Second, if there is any CN families with any activity or investments in hotels/restaurants etc.
Matt
Aeolian Islands: Members from here?
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furiofromnaples
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Re: Aeolian Islands: Members from here?
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The Mafia island utopia that Australians helped to save from becoming a gangster’s paradise
IN 1971, Italy banished its worst mafioso to live in paradise. The only problem was the locals didn’t want them there.
Silvia Marchetti
3 min read
October 23, 2017 - 11:54AM
IN MAY 1971 Italy’s worst Mafioso were sent to Filicudi, a small island off the coast of Sicily as ‘punishment’ for their crimes.
Instead of being jailed, they were free to walk around, shop and live in paradise.
The only problem was the locals — most who had relatives in Australia — didn’t want them there. And their protest led to the country’s first anti-mafia war, supported by Italy’s diaspora in Australia.
They had strong reason to want them gone. The criminals walking the streets of the tiny fishing village Pecorini a Mare included Tano Badalamenti, dubbed the “farmer boss”, who had made a fortune with sheep and veggies and was accused of killing enemy gangs, infiltrating public tenders, and drug dealing.
Another, John Bonventre — wanted by the FBI — was a real kick-ass Godfather who controlled the cocaine triangle between South America, the United States and Sicily.
Filicudi was meant to be a harsh prison but turned out a holiday retreat for them. They slept in frescoed kingsize bedrooms with terraces and smooth tile floors made of ancient painted majolicas. For meals, they ate for free at taverns with rainbow-coloured chairs and tables under thatched porches, where they got to devour gourmet dishes locals could only dream of. As a digestive, the bosses loved to gulp down sweet amber-coloured Malvasia wine which was locally made and still served at the bars.
They were allowed even to pick a lover but local women would have rather died than fall into their arms.
The fact they were pampered instead of punished infuriated the islanders. Locals understood that if the bad guys remained on the island they would have snatched everything with their “blood money”: houses, villages, even the few precious donkeys that helped carry goods along steep stone paths.
“They were prisoners but surprisingly had tonnes of cash in their pockets. I was a teenager and my dad headed the local post office, so when I brought them their mail they would tip me each time ...”, recalled Vincenzo Anastasi, who runs Hotel Le Canne.
So they hatched a plan — a protest so dramatic it worked.
After winning support from other Sicilian islands, they abandoned Filicudi to the prisoners. No longer would the Mafioso have anywhere to shop or eat.
Other islands welcomed these ‘refugees’ with open arms.
That was their winning move.
For a few days Filicudi turned into a ghost isle. All shutters down, shops closed, the caper orchards and prickly-pear fields empty. Farmers and fishermen all gone. Not a soul around except for the Mafiosi. Italy’s state was forced to step-in and transfer the criminals elsewhere, to an uninhabited isle off Sardinia’s coast roamed by just donkeys.
“They were smart and fearless — that’s how they revolted, chasing the Mafiosi away,” local historian Pino La Greca, who wrote a book on the revolt, said. “It was Italy’s first anti-mafia war, supported at a distance by Australia. Relatives already settled there sent money back home to help organise the resistance.”
Many tough islanders who kicked the gangsters out of their golden retreat later also migrated to Australia to join their families after the mafia nightmare ended. And several are now coming back to purchase summer dwellings and restore abandoned parts of Filicudi, lured by the pull of their motherland and longing to reconnect with the past.
The Mafia island utopia that Australians helped to save from becoming a gangster’s paradise
IN 1971, Italy banished its worst mafioso to live in paradise. The only problem was the locals didn’t want them there.
Silvia Marchetti
3 min read
October 23, 2017 - 11:54AM
IN MAY 1971 Italy’s worst Mafioso were sent to Filicudi, a small island off the coast of Sicily as ‘punishment’ for their crimes.
Instead of being jailed, they were free to walk around, shop and live in paradise.
The only problem was the locals — most who had relatives in Australia — didn’t want them there. And their protest led to the country’s first anti-mafia war, supported by Italy’s diaspora in Australia.
They had strong reason to want them gone. The criminals walking the streets of the tiny fishing village Pecorini a Mare included Tano Badalamenti, dubbed the “farmer boss”, who had made a fortune with sheep and veggies and was accused of killing enemy gangs, infiltrating public tenders, and drug dealing.
Another, John Bonventre — wanted by the FBI — was a real kick-ass Godfather who controlled the cocaine triangle between South America, the United States and Sicily.
Filicudi was meant to be a harsh prison but turned out a holiday retreat for them. They slept in frescoed kingsize bedrooms with terraces and smooth tile floors made of ancient painted majolicas. For meals, they ate for free at taverns with rainbow-coloured chairs and tables under thatched porches, where they got to devour gourmet dishes locals could only dream of. As a digestive, the bosses loved to gulp down sweet amber-coloured Malvasia wine which was locally made and still served at the bars.
They were allowed even to pick a lover but local women would have rather died than fall into their arms.
The fact they were pampered instead of punished infuriated the islanders. Locals understood that if the bad guys remained on the island they would have snatched everything with their “blood money”: houses, villages, even the few precious donkeys that helped carry goods along steep stone paths.
“They were prisoners but surprisingly had tonnes of cash in their pockets. I was a teenager and my dad headed the local post office, so when I brought them their mail they would tip me each time ...”, recalled Vincenzo Anastasi, who runs Hotel Le Canne.
So they hatched a plan — a protest so dramatic it worked.
After winning support from other Sicilian islands, they abandoned Filicudi to the prisoners. No longer would the Mafioso have anywhere to shop or eat.
Other islands welcomed these ‘refugees’ with open arms.
That was their winning move.
For a few days Filicudi turned into a ghost isle. All shutters down, shops closed, the caper orchards and prickly-pear fields empty. Farmers and fishermen all gone. Not a soul around except for the Mafiosi. Italy’s state was forced to step-in and transfer the criminals elsewhere, to an uninhabited isle off Sardinia’s coast roamed by just donkeys.
“They were smart and fearless — that’s how they revolted, chasing the Mafiosi away,” local historian Pino La Greca, who wrote a book on the revolt, said. “It was Italy’s first anti-mafia war, supported at a distance by Australia. Relatives already settled there sent money back home to help organise the resistance.”
Many tough islanders who kicked the gangsters out of their golden retreat later also migrated to Australia to join their families after the mafia nightmare ended. And several are now coming back to purchase summer dwellings and restore abandoned parts of Filicudi, lured by the pull of their motherland and longing to reconnect with the past.
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scagghiuni
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Re: Aeolian Islands: Members from here?
Cosa Nostra families from Palermo and Catania invests over there in 2021 police seized 13 apartments from the Palermo's mafia, the drug trafficking is run mostly by the mafia family based in Barcellona (Messina)