Family of Lucky Luciano

Hello, World Wide Web, your occasional genealogists, and all who inhabit it.

I have something that I would like to say, in the slimmest hope that someone, like me, who is looking for "our" family will come across this.

Over the past three years or so, I've dedicated a lot of my time to researching my family genealogy.

While I am a subscribed member to Ancestry.com, and have found a lot of people there, I have also found people elsewhere.

My family, as most of my internet friends know, is the Lucania Family, from Lercara Friddi, Palermo, Sicily; a.k.a., Charles "Lucky" Luciano's (biological) family.

In the slimmest hope that someone who is related might find this, I am hoping that they will contact me, via my eMail address (listed below).

For a heads up, currently, I am researching the surnames, Dolcimascolo, Salemi, Lucania, Cafarella, and Iovino.

If anyone out there, who is researching their (this) family, has any information, or would like to see if I can help out, please contact me., with any information or questions.
I would greatly appreciate it.

To contact me, please send me an eMail to: sc_lucania_luciano@ymail.com

Gay Orlova| "Gay all Over."

Born Galina Orlova, a girl of Russian-French blood, in Petrograd in pre-Soviet Russia. She fled the Bolsheviks as a toddler, with her mother Antonina. They ended up in the intrigue and mystery of Constantinople, Turkey, where the curly blonde learned to dance.

She was still in her teens when she boarded the S.s. Sinaia in rout for America. At 16 she arrived in Providence, Rhode Island and soon made her way to New York city. In the early thirties, with her perfect hourglass shape it didn’t take much to attract the attention of Earl Carroll.
With her looks she could’ve come on stage in ash covered rags and still have been a sensation. Her dancing was just the olive in the martini.

She opened in Murder at the Vanities at the Majestic, her only problem now was: she only had a six-month visa to remain in the United States. That that wasn’t a problem for Galina for too long. She eloped with Ed Finn, a handsome usher from the theater’s orchestra floor.

When Mr. Carroll got wind of the news, he sent Galina a wire:
“You might at least have picked an usher from the first balcony.”

Galina’s marriage lasted some forty-eight hours. Ed Finn got an annulment as a kissless bridegroom. But now, Galina was eligible to stay in America.

Not only had Galina got the attention of the Broadway producers and its connoisseurs, she had even caught the attention of certain underworld figures as well. People like Giuseppe “Joe the Boss” Masseria, Ciro Terranova, and especially the attention on one up-and-coming and perhaps the most important figure in the underworld.

On and around Broadway the gorgeous Russ became known as “Gay all over.”
Unlike the other girls who practically screamed sex, Gay was more subtle, the type known as “beautiful and dumb.” She was about as dumb as a Ph.D. for she spoke at least three languages; Russian, French and English.

Gay never had to join any lonely hearts club, and in the span of a few weeks, a stockbroker was following her everywhere. She was the constant companion on a famous magazine cartoonist.

When Carroll’s show opened up in Palm Island, a favorite playground for Al Capone, between Miami and Miami Beach, at the end of 1934, her stockbroker friend followed her to Florida and even offered a proposal of marriage.

One night during the Palm Island run, Gay met a dark, sinisterly handsome man, he was conservative and quite but looked plenty. Gay had met Charles Luciano.

In the following months, spring came and the tourists headed back up north, Lucky did too.
No too long afterwards, the Broadway starlet was reunited with her heartbeat in New York City.

The relationship was cozy through the summer of 1935 until Arthur “Dutch Shultz” Flegenheimer was murdered. That brought a temporary halt to the relationship. Lucky thought it might be a good idea to leave Manhattan for a little while.

“I haven’t seen him in weeks,” Gay cried as winter approached. “I can’t believe what they’re saying about him. I don’t know why they say such mean things— he’s such a dear!”

Gay went south again, she found Lucky there already before her. She said she was no end surprised and please. She had had no idea that Lucky was. And they picked up right where they had left off.

Later, when Lucky ran into the big trouble with special prosecutor Thomas E. Dewey, over the almost completely fabricated prostitution organization. Gay was even more critical of the law.
“I don’t believe any of those charges,” she firmly declared. “Especially that one about compulsory-something-or-other. It just doesn’t sound nice—not like Lucky at all!”
(“Compulsory something-or-other was the prize euphemism for “prostitution.”)

Gay held a press conference to let her objections be known. The conference was held in Dave’s Blue Room, one of Lucky’s old late-night hangouts. “Charlie,” she persisted, was “just like any other fellow,”
“He was nice,” she said.

For Gay, who at the time was looking for a job, must have had some good profits aside. She had shown up at the conference in a Paris gown, a four-thousand dollar silver fox, and dripping with jewels that never came out of the five-and-ten.

Publicity wasn’t one of Gay favorite things. She was at no end put out when Lucky’s trouble with Dewey got her name printed in the newspapers, along with several photographs, which ensconced her beauty by a G-string here and a tassel there.
Sadly, she turned back on her achievements, departed and set out for further adventures in Paris.

The adventures continued throughout the was years. The intriguing Russ got to know her way in and out of the official headquarters in the tragic years. When Hitler and Stalin signed their brotherhood pact in 1939, the French grabbed Gay as a possible Russian spy. She soon won her release.

In 1941, when Hitler’s army overran France, she was picked up by the Nazis. Again, she escaped detention. The voluptuous Gay apparently still had the persuasive charm that had the stockbrokers in the palm of her hand in her Broadway years.

When Lucky was release from prison, after serving nine and a half years of his thirty to fifty year sentence for prostitution, split up between Sing-Sing, Danemorra and Great Meadows prisons, he won his release in 1946 for his assistance in the allied invasion of Sicily, under strict rule that he be immediately deported back to Italy.

Lucky’s deportation gave Gay some moments of anticipated excitement. Because now she wasn’t separated from her love by the ocean. Lucky had not been in Italy three months before Gay sought permission to cross through the Alps to him. Her request was refused.

As of 1954, Gay was still present in Paris still wanting her Lucky. For whom she had given up a Wall Streeter’s hand in marriage. But, the feeling for on another no longer seemed mutual.

Lucky was very well settled in Italy. He had not tried he reach the other side of the border to his one time flame.

Lucky lived the rest of his life in Naples with his beloved girlfriend Igea Lissoni, The blonde hairs and blue eyed ballerina from Milan, whom was twenty some years his junior.

They lived together for eleven years in Naples on Via Tasso.
Igea died on September 28th, 1958 of breast cancer. She was 37. Even in the four years that Lucky out lived Igea, not once did he ever mention the lush “Gay all Over…”

No information has been published publicly as to the date of Gay’s death or weather or not she ever made it across the border to Italy…

Charlie “Lucky” Luciano passed away at 5:26p.m. on January 26th, 1962 at 64 years old from a sudden massive heart attack, at the Capodichino airport in Naples while meeting with a producer about a deal to make a movie on his life.

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Special thanks goes out to Miriam Cihodariu at http://www.Outofthepicture.deviantart.com for giving me the idea for this post.^^

Benjamin Siegel... Bugsy's 103!

Well, February 28th is a favorite date of mine. Do you know why? Because it’s Benjamin Siegel’s birthday of course! No, I prefer not to call him “Bugsy.” That’s just mean.
So I thought I’d take to time post a little somethin’ for little Benny. Capisce? Ya’ know Las Vegas wouldn’t be what it is today is it wasn’t for Benny Siegel, Meyer Lansky and of course my lovely great-great-grandpa’ Charlie Luciano.^^ I’m sure that you’ve all heard of The Flamingo, right? The Casino that got Benny murdered? What was only supposed to be a little of 1 million dollars to put up, Benny and his obsessiveness, borrowed more than 6 million to complete. What all with these little extras he wanted to have put on.
Not to mention that the company that was building The Flamingo was unknowingly stealing off them… Plus this lovely and just as psychotic Virginia Hill somehow managed to talk poor ol’ Benny into skimming money off his friends…
For those of you that have heard the rumors that Ben haunts the flamingo, it’s true. I’ve stayed at The Flamingo many of times, and on several occasions I have seen Ben’s spirit. Same goofy tie with the big dice, same plaid like suit jacket, same blue eyes.
Nobody but Benny Siegel could pull off that look. One in a million.
Even though it was grandpa’ Lucky and the Little Man Meyer Lansky’s votes that got him killed, I still go a soft spot for Benjamin, the murderous schlemiel. And I partially blame Virginia Hill, the crazy broad.
Benjamin could’ve made a big difference. He wanted to kill Mussolini at some sort of banquet at one of his mistresses, Dorothy DiFrasso’s house in Italy. Unfortunately he never did. Although, my personal opinion might not mean much, I do think that it would’ve helped a lot with the whole Hitler-Mussolini thing. Benny loved his people to say the least…
Then again, next to Sicilians and Italians, I got a huge soft spot for Jews. They’re very clean people. And most of my friends are Jewish…
But all of that aside, it’s Benjamin Siegel’s 103rd birthday. February 28th, 1906 - June 20th, 1947
……..A Freilekhn Gebortstog, Bairush HaLevi ben Reb Mordechai Dov HaLevi!

The dirty '30s and the even dirtier Dewey...

Okay, now for my first post, is gonna be partly rant, and party my own opinion… Shall we begin? Great…

Now, ladies and gentlemen, the crema della crema, the one and only:

Salvatore C. Lucania a.k.a Charlie “Lucky” Luciano a.k.a. My great-great-grandpa’.

I thought that this picture was justified enough. I really hate how everyone uses those damn mug shots.

I mean, really, c’mon. Who’s mug shot looks good? Nobody’s. That’s who. No one…

… And now that my rant about the picture is over, on the the point of this post!

I have to admit, I really love the guy. and that’s something that I’m anything but ashamed to admit.

Even if I hated the fact that “America’s biggest vice-lord” was my great-great-grandfather, I wouldn’t be here without him.

I’d be somebody different, and to tell ya’, I really don’t like the idea of being somebody different. I like me too much.

Grandpa’ Charlie might not have been no saint, I don’t think that he was, nor did he. But I certainly don’t think that he was as bad of a guy that the media and judicial system made him out to be.

Hell, they was more crooked then he ever was. And they still are.

But outta all the bad he did, a lotta good came outta it.

After he was deported back to Italy, he settled in Naples. Neapolitans who didn’t have money for food, bills, or doctor visits, he would give money to them.

Most of the time it was as much as 25,000 lire. At times he would even have a doctor sent to their houses… Now if that’s not a tear-jerker, then I dunno what the hell is.

Do any of you remember a schmuck by the name of Dewey?.. Uh, this schmuck:

Personally this bastard reminds me of a miniature Hitler. Yeah, that’s right, I said it. As in Adolph. Whadda ya’ gonna do? Put me in Sign-Sing, huh?

Aw, c’mon, you remember Thomas E. Dewey don’t ya’?

Federal prosecutor, special prosecutor, Manhattan District Attorney, then Governor of New York. He ran against Franklin D. Roosevelt but lost {thank God}.

Did I mention that he’s the one responsible for taking away the best 10 years of my grandpa’s life, did I? Well, he did.

Dewey, or as I like to call him “the little man on the wedding cake” was a strong supporter of the death penalty in New York. In his 12 years as governor, 90 people were electrocuted, two of which were women.

Mr. Wedding cake here used grandpa’ Charlie’s trial as a front, if you will, to boost his own importance. Note that after the Luciano trial in 1936, in 1937 one year later, Dewey here becomes the Manhattan D.A.

In ‘36, Dewey had all the bordellos in New York City raided, and the madams and prostitutes arrested. Which months later resulted in grandpa’ Charlie’s conviction…

Dewey threatened the madams and prostitutes with a 7 year prison term if they did not cooperate. If they did, they could go free… In Layman’s terms, either they told Dewey what Dewey wanted to hear or they went to prison.

These “witnesses” as the madams and prostitutes were made out to be, were not highly creditable. There were drug addicts addicted to heroin and morphine. Most of them drank heavily after court each night. 12 brandies or more.

Two prime examples of the credibility of these witnesses are the call-girls: Florence “Cocky Flo” Brown and Nancy Presser.

1- Florence Brown

Occupation: prostitute and heroin addict.

They arrested her during the raids and put her through a “quickie cure.” She was basically colder than a freezer turkey waiting on Thanksgiving. Given being so rapidly taken off the drug, her memory wasn’t all that clear, and for the fact that she most likely didn’t wanna go to prison, she’s gonna say whatever Dewey wants to hear. Needles to say is exaclty what she done.

2- Nancy Presser

Occupation: Prostitute.

Now if this don’t show you how crooked the prosecution was, then you’re either blind, deaf or just plain ignorant… When Miss Presser was put on the stand, she testified that she knew Mr. Luciano and that she had been to his suite in the Waldorf=Astoria Towers on several occasions, but her visits were strictly platonic.

She was asked to give a description of Mr. Luciano’s suite. The description was anything but close to being correct. She couldn’t remember how many bedrooms there were, which it was a two bedroom suite. She couldn’t remember if there was a refrigerator or even what the furniture looked like. Of course her story and descriptions changed once or twice, later she finally recanted her testimony.

The prostitutes were asked to describe the defendants, who most had to take a second guess. And some even, sometime after the trial admitted to being coaxed into perjury by the prosecution.

At some point during the trial, “Lucky” Luciano took the stand. To most, this was unexpected. He was caught in a few minor lies by Dewey. But mostly he told the truth.

He was asked about the January 17th, 1916 charge for narcotics possession, which he was sentence 6 months for. Lucky readily admitted to that. He was asked about the December 15th, 1921 charge in Jersey City for possession of a concealed weapon. Lucky and a few friends had been pulled over for speeding, and the cop found a pistol and shot guns in the back of the car. They were taken into the precinct and booked. Only thing is, the gun was registered in New York under Lucky’s name, the charges were eventually dropped.

The answer for this that Lucky gave Dewey was simple, “We was out in the country shootin’ peasants.” Which Dewey corrected as “pheasants.”
Dewey even accused him of being a “stool pigeon.” At one time Lucky had given the police the location of a box of heroin. Even then he refused to give any names.

The original charge that Dewey was gonna try to bring him to trial on was narcotics. When he couldn’t find the grounds for that, he trumped it up to leading a prostitution racket.

Sure, Charlie Luciano knew some prostitutes. Sure, he knew Polly Adler, the famous madam who wrote the book “A house is not a home.” But he only knew them as a customer. Polly Adler called him one of her best customers.

“Her girls was pretty” as he put it. But look at it this way: What wealthy guy in Manhattan didn’t know a call-girl or two? What politician didn’t?

Of course Charlie wasn’t one to call Polly for a girl every-other-night. I don’t think you could even call him a frequenter… Why would he even want to be, when he was dating the lush Galina “Gay” Orlova.

She was a Russian-French immigrant, who worked in Broadway, dancing in Earl Carroll’s “Murder at the Vanities.” Lucky called her “Gay all Over” “Because if you say ‘Orlova’ different, it sounds like ‘all over’.”

Dewey tried to label him a pimp. He never forced any any of those girls into any bordello or any sorta work like that. They did that purely on their own free will. If Lucky and his guy did anything, it sure was helping the girls outta jail.

Lucky’s so-called prostitution ring became known as the “bonding combination” or just “the combination.” What the “combination” did was, they would have a collector pick up money from the bordellos. The madams gave 10$ for themselves and 5$ for each girl. This money was put towards half of the bail money, if one of them got arrested and held in jail. Then Lucky and his guys would put of the other half, or however much else was needed to bond the girls out.

All that stuff about the heroin peddling, that was all Vito Genovese’s idea. Lucky even warned Vito to keep outta it. But if Vito insisted on doing it then, “do what you want. But do it away from me. I don’t wanna hear about it. I don’t wanna know about it. If it gets ya’ in trouble, don’t come to me.”

I’m not saying that he never did anything bad. Or that what good that he done overrules the bad. Alls I’m saying is, even a blind man could see that those witnesses were not creditable. And that the court got a 30 to 50 year sentence from nothing but crumbs of evidence, which even the crumbs were merely circumstantial.

Even with that, Lucky was sentenced to 30 to 50 years in “Sing-Sing” prison. Which in the period of 10 years, he would be transferred to “Danemorra” prison, and then to “great meadows” prison. And finally release in 1946 for assisting in giving information in the invasion of Sicily and then deported back to Italy where he would spend the last 16 years of his life…

Hell I’ve heard of people convicted of murder that’s only served 1 year in prison. Which, well I guess grandpa’ Charlie was right in saying, “Prostitution? I’d rather be tried for murder.” And he always thought that prostitution was “as low as a guy could sink” anyways.

And on one last note: Nobody can sit there and tell me that if Thomas Dewey had all of that money and power that grandpa’ Charlie had, and had that certain something about him that made him attractive to women {which he could’ve really used}, and could have anything he wanted, that he wouldn’t have lived like Charlie?

Shit, yeah, he wouldn’t have lived like that. He would’ve lived in a shack and kept the money in a wood box over the fire-place, and had a old maid for a wife… And the sarcasm ends here….

Ya’ know, I’m sorry, but I’m on Lucky’s side…

… I just felt like rambling. And i think I did a pretty good job at it.

That’s all for now.