what mean gotti did the 302 ? and Junior Gotti didn't left life?

I wouldn't necessarily say it was all b.s. It was a rat move. Gotti and his family go all over social media blasting other rats but yet when someone bring up the 302s, they get blocked or there will be a comment like "you go through 4 trials" or w.e. He pointed the finger at 2 living guys and his father. Then after the 302s got out, he claims he lied. Bullshit. Finger someone else other than Marino and Watts.

In his defence he did his time though, and refused to cooperate

But yeh, Gene is real old school

When they put Jr, Pete & Gene in solitary, Gene refused to sue and just took the time (Kasman told Feds they wanted to whack the Warden at Marion)

How much time did he do though?

Would he stand up to a sentence as lengthy as his father's or uncle's?

Judging by what we know from his character, no.

DAMN, I was in 5th grade when Gene went into jail. I will be 40 next year.

Take 28 years, pass Go, collect $1,000,000

He is a trooper.

DAMN, I was in 5th grade when Gene went into jail. I will be 40 next year.

Take 28 years, pass Go, collect $1,000,000

He is a trooper.

...Isn't He in for a big surprise when He comes out...It's a different World now...Cell phone..? What's a cell phone!

Did women start shaving down there by 1989?

If not, then that's probably going to be his best surprise.

I haven't really read or heard much of anything about Gotti in these past years. Don't know what his attitude is- is he running a racket in jail???? maybe after serving such a long sentence is he just fed up with the mob especially after hearing what has happened to is since he left. If he has adequate money coming in maybe he will just say "Fuck it" leave the nephew alone and retire. Have any of you heard what he is up to now ??

Dear Wiseguys. I can't believe how fast things move on the outside. I saw a woman with a landing strip once when I was a kid, but now they're everywhere. The world went and got itself in a big damn hurry. The parole board got me into this halfway house called the Brewer, and a job bagging groceries at Duane Reade. It's hard work. I try to keep up, but my hands hurt most of the time since I have never worked a day in my life. I don't think the store manager likes me very much. Sometimes after work I go to Neil Migliore's and feed the pigeons. I keep thinking John might just show up and say hello. But he never does. I hope wherever he is, he's doing okay and making new friends.

I have trouble sleeping at night. I have bad dreams, like I'm getting indicted. I wake up scared. Sometimes it takes me a while to remember where I am. Maybe I should get me a gun and rob a card game, so they'd send me home. I could shoot the manager at Duane Reade while I was at it, sort of like a bonus. I guess I'm too old for that sort of nonsense anymore. I don't like it here. I'm tired of being afraid all the time. I've decided not to stay. I doubt they'll kick up any fuss. Not for an old mobster like me.