When Frank Costello was "shelved" by Vito back in 1957, my father and older cousin bumped into him at a top Manhattan joint. My cousin was hesitant to approach Frank to say hello and pay respects. But my dad told him "how the fuck could we not?" So they both went over to him and shook hands and kissed him on his cheek Italian style as a show of reverence and respect for who he was and represented. They didn't put it in the newspapers the next day because they woulda be pulled on the carpet, but said hello nonetheless out of respect. They were both nothing compared to Frank, especially back then.