Vignettes

In September 1962, legitimate businessman and environmentalist pioneer Carlos "Mellow" Marcello enjoyed a leisurely afternoon at Churchill Farms. Churchill Farms was Marcello's 6,400-acre wetlands estate on the west bank of the Mississippi River.
On this particular day, he was attempting to impress upon them that swamps were not wastelands to be drained but a vital part of our ecosystem. Sources say that it was Carlos Marcello who, a few years earlier, gave Rachel Carson the idea to write Silent Spring. In his views of wetlands protection, though, Marcello had been too far ahead of his time, so Carson didn't see fit to mention him in her book.
The men present with Marcello that day were Carlo Roppolo, Edward Becker and Jack Liberto. Liberto doubled as Marcello's barber and bodyguard. As they came to a Marcello's gazebo on that property, the conversation turned to Presidential politics.
Marcello sat down and said to Liberto, "Livarsi 'na pietra de
la scarpa! (Get this stone out of my shoe!)"
Roppolo and Becker knew those words.
Among gangsters in Sicily, it was an order to kill someone. It was clear to Roppolo that Marcello was ordering the murder of President John F. Kennedy.
Roppolo said to Marcello, "Okay, boss. I'll get on it right away." With that, he quickly left for the manor house. Edward Becker, who had accompanied Roppolo to Churchill Farms, hurried along behind him.
Jack Liberto remained with Marcello, dutifully helping him to remove one of his boots. Liberto then held the boot by the heel and shook it a little. A tiny stone about the size of a pencil eraser fell into Liberto's hand. He looked at Marcello and smiled, "Ain't it somethin' how one little bitty rock can cause so much trouble?"
* * *
Also in September 1962, another legitimate businessman named Santo Trafficante was making a telephone call to a produce distributor. First, he asked him if there was some way the distributor could provide a case of rotten eggs on a day's notice. The distributor explained that all his eggs were supposed to be fresh, and that it would take at least a week to deliberately put them in an advanced state of decay.
"Well, I know you have rotten tomatoes," Trafficante responded.
"You throw them out every day, when you separate them from the good ones."
"Yeah, sure," the distributor replied. "If you like, it would be no trouble to provide you with a case of rotten tomatoes any workday of the week. Just send someone in to sign a contract."
At that moment, Jose Aleman, a wealthy Cuban exile, walked into Trafficante's office. Trafficante motioned for him to take a seat. Aleman sat down. Though Aleman did not know to whom Trafficante was speaking, he could not help overhearing the last part of Trafficante's end of the conversation.
"Okay, great!" Trafficante continued. "I'm very serious about this contract. I don't want any foul-ups."
Aleman, of course, didn't hear the voice of the distributor: "But why do you want a case of rotten tomatoes?"
Then Aleman was shocked to hear Trafficante's next remark: "I know some people who are pretty upset at President Kennedy. When he comes down South, he's gonna get hit."
* * *
Frank Ragano was a lawyer specializing in the problems of legitimate businessmen, especially those whose names ended with a vowel. His clients and business associates included Hoffa, Trafficante, Marcello and Bubba.
In February 1963, Jimmy Hoffa asked Ragano to take a message to Trafficante and Marcello, but not to tell Bubba. Bubba was too much of a blabbermouth. Ragano thought Hoffa must have been joking. He half-chuckled when he told Trafficante and Marcello, "He wants you to kill President Kennedy."
Their reaction to the suggestion chilled Ragano's blood. The two legitimate businessmen looked at one another with deadly seriousness. It was even more chilling to Marcello and Trafficante. They realized at that moment that, if anything happened to President Kennedy, they might be blamed for it.
* * *
In April 1963, Carlos Marcello said to his bodyguard Jack Liberto, "Y'know, Jack, dere's a voice in da Bible dat sez dat all t'ings woik out fuh da good."
"I don't know, Boss," Liberto replied. "I tried readin' da Bible once. Started wid Genesis. Seems everybody dey called a hero was some kind of killer or a cheat. With a bunch of bums like dat, I don't know why God even bothered ta tell Noah dat He was gonna flood da oith. Even Noah, who was supposed ta be da only righteous man left on Oith, turned out ta be a drunk. God t'ought Lot was da only righteous man left in Sodom, but I'm too embarrassed ta tell ya what dat bum did. After Noah and Lot, I t'ought, is God a bad judge a' character or what? Exodus started out wit' da same kind of crookedness as Genesis, so I didn't read any foida. I couldn't handle all dat criminal behavior. I just t'rowed it away."
"Well, anyway, Jack, I just bet Jimmy da geek fifty dollars dat somebody's gonna bump off President Kennedy. I don't wanna see him dead, but if he does get bumped off, some good should come of it. I'll make an easy fifty bucks."
"You placed a bet with Jimmy the Greek, the famous odds-maker?"
"No, Jack, I said Jimmy da geek, da guy down on Boibon Street, who makes a livin' bitin' da heads offa live chickens. He's gotten inta small-time gamblin'."