Lights Out for Mama Siegel's Blue-Eyed Boy

On June 20, 1947 Benjamin Siegel was seated on a flower patterned divan in a spacious living room whose front door address resided at 810 North Linden Drive, Beverly Hills, California.

Looking around his opulent surroundings, and skimming through the evening edition of the Los Angeles Times, Ben Siegel realized he had come a long way from his snot-nosed days in tenements in Williamsburg, Brooklyn and the rough streets of the Lower East Side. Despite the ongoing troubles with The Flamingo; the boys back in New York; and a harrowing last few days of mysterious phone calls and whispered threats, he was feeling pretty good for the first time in weeks. Seated next him was his friend Allen Smiley, known as 'Smiley the Russian' to his pals. The two were relaxed and making small chitchat since returning from a seaside meal earlier that evening.

It was the eve of summer and calm warm winds passed through the windows tickling the drapes. Upstairs, 19 year old Chick Hill, was entertaining one Miss Jerri Mason. Siegel glanced over at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was 10:20 P.M.
His thoughts turned to Virgina Hill. Their last squabble had sent Virginia scuffling off to Paris for a little while until things cooled off between them again. Sure, she was a handful, and sometimes more than not, a pain in the ass. But Benny also knew that she was the only woman who was able to keep up with his ways. And Benny had known a lot of women.
The French called it ' L'Amour Fou'.

Sixty-one years ago, nine bullets crashed through a ground floor window of Virginia Hill's rented mansion, and ended the life of Benjamin 'Bugsy' Siegel.

Much has been written and said about Siegel. He’s by far the most famous Jewish gangster in popular culture. He’s even been the subject of a major Hollywood film.
And he was definitely the most handsome.
Yet, despite the flash and bravado; the money and the power; the women and the wine; only five people attended his funeral.
Actor and childhood friend George Raft wasn’t there.
Long time partner Meyer Lansky wasn’t there.
Los Angeles right hand man Mickey Cohen wasn’t there.
Even his pal Smiley, who watched him die, wasn’t there.
Neither was Virginia Hill.

Siegel, who had been such a presence and force in many of these and other’s peoples lives, legitimate and otherwise, had been granted the ultimate insult upon his demise.
No flower filled procession of black Cadillac Sedans.
No glowing eulogies.
No show.

Guess Benny’s old crowd had nothing to say.

Only his ex-wife Esta, daughters Millicent and Barbara, and brother Maurice were there to put him to rest. The fifth was Rabbi Kert who recited prayers and the Twenty-third Psalm.

Getta outta here!

A brief overview of the life of Jacob 'Gurrah' Shapiro. The final book text will go into more details. Hey, I can't giveaway everything here!

Jacob 'Gurrah' Shapiro
1899 - 1947

In much of the annals of Jewish criminal history put to paper, much has been made of Jacob Shapiro’s sobriquet. The nickname of ‘Gurrah’ conjures up images of a rough and tumble fellow, and the word closely resembles ‘gorilla’ as well if spoken quickly. That would have been appropriate as well, as Shapiro filled out the gangster mold rather well with his thick frame, long arms, hunched composure and mandatory broken nose that sat between two, almost gentle pale blue eyes. Sidewalk stories and street legend has it that more than likely, he earned it from his incomprehensible mumbling in his attempt at saying "getta outta here" through a thick tongue that first spoke Russian upon his family’s arrival from Minsk in the early 1900s.

He began his criminal career as a teen like most, robbing pushcarts, which were an easy target before growing to being one of the most feared labor racketeers not only on the Lower East Side, but also throughout most of New York. His partner was Louis 'Lepke' Buchalter, whom Shapiro first encountered during their teenage years when they both tried to rob the same pushcart. With a little nudge and wink from Mr. Arnold Rothstein, the two came up through the ranks and learned the slippery ropes working for number one labor boss Jacob ‘Little Augie’ Orgen. Orgen, a former member of Benjamin ‘Dopey Benny’ Fein’s gang, had won the longstanding labor slugging wars with his ‘Little Augies’ against Nathan Kaplan aka Kid Dropper and Johnny Spanish. Kaplan met his end in front of the Essex Market Court House in 1923 by a friendly little torpedo that went by the name Little Louis Cohen, despite the numerous detectives and policemen in the vicinity. Little Augie kept his guard up from that point on, with one inquisitive eye especially on the salient Lepke Buchalter, by hiring the notorious Jack ‘Legs’ Diamond as his personal bodyguard.

Buchalter was the dangerous and scary type of hoodlum, whose clear eyed, methodical forward thinking was combined and laced with cold-blooded cunning and greed. Shapiro was the brawn to Lepke's brains, and the two made quite the duo. It wasn’t long before Buchalter was convinced he and Shapiro could run Little Augie’s business better than he ever would.
On the 16th of October, 1927, Shapiro and Buchalter went into business for themselves after leaving on the corner of Norfolk and Delancey the bullet riddled body that once belonged to 26 year old Jacob Orgen. Legs Diamond earned his nickname due to his quick long legged running stride, which failed him that day and left him severely wounded but alive.

The old days were gone. Shapiro and Buchalter’s new order put fresh standards and practices to work, expanding their racketeering empire to bakery trucking, the clothing trade, narcotics and much more. The results shot Lepke to the top of the New York City crime world, aligning himself with the Bug and Meyer mob, Brooklyn chief Albert Anastasia, Lucky Luciano, and brought forth the birth of ‘the Combination’ which the press colorfully termed ‘Murder Inc.’ They acquired the dubious tag of ‘The Gold Dust Twins’, pulling in millions, but ‘Gurrah Jake’ Shapiro's aspirations stayed at street level and he remained out of the office chair while Buchlater ran his operations like a Wall Street CEO.

Special Prosecutor Thomas Dewey had been a thorn in the side of much of New York’s underworld ever since he chased after Dutch Schultz in the mid 1930s. With sights set on the Governor’s chair, and eventually the White House, he had Mayor LaGuardia’s blessing to take on the rackets. New York’s round table of knights of disorder had decided against assassinating Dewey when the Dutchman had first put the idea on the table. Shapiro and Buchalter had been the minority in voting yes, and that loss of vote and the crime boss committee’s decision against hitting Dewey would soon haunt most of them.

Dewey focused on the duo’s labor practices, and soon had them busted and convicted of the Sherman Anti-Trust Act, and they suddenly faced two years behind bars. Even with this sedentary period for the two while they were off the streets, Dewey worked up more evidence up his sleeve on a variety of different charges to have them sent right back into the clink after serving their present term. Word reached Shapiro and he immediately went into hiding, while Lepke, well, his was another long story altogether of almost two years of incognito and games of hide and seek.

Wanted posters had appeared by the thousands across the country with a $5000 reward for information on his whereabouts. ‘Gurrah’ Shapiro first went to Newark, perhaps hidden under the wide umbrella of New Jersey boss Abner ‘Longy’ Zwillman, before heading to the Midwest. The isolation of underground life proved to be too much for him after a couple of months and he started showing up in nightclubs, bars, and making phone calls. He wanted his old life back, and to see his old friends. His health was deteriorating as well. The good life capped by two years of sitting in jail had rounded out Shapiro’s features considerably, and he suffered from chest pains and shortness of breath. Finally, on April 14, 1938, tired of running and too sick to go on, he turned himself in to the FBI.
Charges against Jacob Shapiro included extortion and conspiracy, and he was handed 15 years to life to be spent at Sing Sing Prison in Ossining, New York. He only served nine of those years, during which he’d witness life long partner Louis ‘Lepke’ Buchalter take a seat in the electric chair, before a heart attack took his life in 1947.

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The Jews Of Sing Sing

I just recently returned from a couple of entertaining and informative appearances by author Ron Arons, who was in town for two nights in conjunction with the release of his new book The Jews Of Sing Sing.

The book was initially sparked when Arons was researching his great grandfather, Isaac Speirs, who, to his surprise, spent four years in Sing Sing Prison for bigamy. Intended originally as a family memoir, and a good part of the book details his search for his great grandfather's story, it also morphed into a more complete overview of some of the more infamous, and not so infamous Jewish inmates of the notorious penitentiary. Ron's book is the final result of ten years worth or research.
The Jews Of Sing Sing is now available, and for more details you can go to his website here


Also keep an eye out for appearances by Ron in your area code as they are a fun and informative romp on Jewish criminality and its history.