I hope you don’t mind if I get a little personal in this commentary. I grew up in Cleveland’s Italian community, usually referred to as Little Italy. There, at least 99 percent of the people were warmhearted, loving, honest, robust souls eager to help a friend or neighbor at any time of the day or night. They were beautiful people.
The other 1 percent lived a rather shady life of loan-sharking, gambling, and murder. I saw the Mafia operate firsthand, and I learned to hate it, just as my mother and father, both of them immigrants from Italy, did. They and our relatives and friends spoke frequently of the murderous passions of the Italians they knew to be linked to the Mafia, but they did it in hushed tones, as if members of that clandestine mob had rigged the houses with listening devices — which, in many instances, they may have.
As a boy, I saw gangland murders in broad daylight, police payoffs, and gun-slinging intimidation. An uncle refused to pay protection money at one time and lost his grocery to a Mafia-planted bomb in the dead of night. It very nearly cost him his life, too. He resumed payments immediately and was permitted to rebuild his grocery.
My parents helped build up in me a rage against hoods and chiselers that has never subsided. However, they, like all the Italian-Americans in the neighborhood, were careful never to criticize the Mafia mobsters in public. One never knew whether a tipster for the mob was present.
Little wonder, then, that I decided to devote much of my life as a newsman to a personal crusade against all factions within the foul world of organized crime. When I finally made it to a position in which I could do something about it, I didn’t hesitate. As managing editor of the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, I led a brilliant staff of reporters in an investigation that exposed a Mafia-like crime system within Seattle’s city government, the prosecutor’s office, the sheriff’s office, and the police department. Fifty-five of them were indicted in a cleanup.
But, it seems, the honest Italian-Americans’ work is never done. Most of them wince when the Mafia attracts headlines or air time. For years, the news media seemed anxious to pin the “Italian” label on a gangster or racketeer — but to forget the same label when an Italian-American did something of a distinguished nature.
Maybe all that changed, at last, when a fellow named Antonin Scalia became the first Italian-American to be appointed to the Supreme Court of the United States. And, much to my amazement and great satisfaction, the print and broadcast news media said, loud and clear, that the new justice was an “Italian-American.” Three cheers for justice, American style!
When Scalia was nominated by President Ronald Reagan back then in the mid-1980s, you may have noticed a smile — and a touch of relief — on the faces of all those friends of yours whose names ended in “a,” “i,” “e.” or “o.” Maybe you also heard one or two of them saying, “He’s one of our boys, by gum!”
By the same token, I’m certain that at least one justice on the bench of the highest court in the land is committed to the cause of eliminating organized crime in America.