I want to try a different tack in this series:
WAS JOE BONANNO REALLY KIDNAPPED IN 1964?

Not likely.

In one of the most bizarre and widely publicized events in Mob history, Joe Bonanno, one of the most powerful of the Five Family Dons, was kidnapped on a busy New York City street by two thugs who fired a warning shot at his lawyer. He disappeared completely, and was widely rumored to be dead. Then, 19 months later, Bonanno, apparently none the worse for wear, strolled into a Federal courtroom in New York and blandly announced to the judge: “Your Honor, my name is Joseph Bonanno. I hear that you are looking for me.”

Bonanno did not reveal any details of his disappearance until the 1983 publication of his autobiography, “A Man of Honor.” Here’s how he tells the story:
His cousin, Stefano Magaddino, the Don of Buffalo, NY, grew jealous and resentful of Bonanno’s success and popularity in the NYC Mob. Magaddino convinced the Commission that Joe was complicit in a plot by Joe Magliocco, the Profaci Family Don and an ally of Bonanno’s, to whack Carlo Gambino and Tommy Lucchese. The Commission summoned Bonanno to explain himself. When he refused, the Commission ordered him to step down as Don of his family, replacing him with Gaspar DiGregorio, Magaddino’s brother in law. This set off an internal war in the Bonanno Family between those loyal to Joe, and those who bolted to DiGregorio. To avoid potential assassins, Joe took to staying at various secret locations in and around NYC. Meanwhile, he was ordered to appear before a Federal grand jury investigating organized crime.

On October 20, 1964, the eve of his grand jury appearance, Bonanno had dinner in a NYC restaurant with his lawyers. William Maloney, his chief lawyer, invited Joe to spend the night at his Park Avenue apartment so he wouldn’t have to commute back and forth from Long Island. While strolling up Park Avenue, a car roared to the curb and two thugs grabbed Bonanno and forced him into the car. They pegged a warning shot at Maloney when he protested. The kidnapping and the shot drew the police, and the incident got page-one headlines in New York and elsewhere.

According to Bonanno, the thugs were Magaddino’s brother and son. They drove him to an upstate New York farmhouse, where Magaddino held him prisoner. The two cousins daily communed (there is no other word for it) via gestures and riddles in ways that Bonanno describes in such vague terms as to suggest surrealism. Finally, after six weeks, Magaddino set Bonanno free. He even ordered his son and brother to drive Joe anywhere he wanted to be. Bonanno says he ordered them to drop him off in El Paso, TX, the better to plant a hint that he might hole up in Mexico. Instead, he called an ally, who drove him to his home in Tucson, AZ. There Joe hid, grew a beard, bought old clothes and a cane, and shuffled around like a homeless man, eventually returning to NYC, where he did the same. He finally emerged, clean shaven and well dressed, in the Federal courtroom on May 17, 1966—19 months after the “kidnapping.”

In a word: this story stinks. If Bonanno had been hiding out at various NYC locales to avoid assassins, why would he suddenly decide to have a very public dinner in a very public restaurant with his lawyers, then take a very public stroll up a very busy street? How did Magaddino find out about his itinerary? If Magaddino had the wherewithal to get his brother and son close enough to “kidnap” Bonanno, whey didn’t they just shoot him in the street—thereby instantly solving Magaddino’s, DiGregorio’s and the Commission’s problem, and sending an unmistakable message to the remaining Bonanno loyalists: “The king is dead, long live the king”? What possible benefit could Magaddino have derived from kidnapping his cousin, holding him for six weeks—and then letting him go, presumably to cause him yet more trouble?

And, how very convenient that Magaddino, Bonanno’s mortal enemy, managed to “kidnap” him just hours before his scheduled appearance before a grand jury investigation organized crime. Gosh, what a coincidence!

The most likely story is that Bonanno had himself “kidnapped” by two loyalists in order to avoid appearing before the Federal grand jury investigating organized crime. Bonanno undoubtedly would have refused to answer questions, which would have landed him in jail for contempt of court, making him a sitting duck for Mob assassins. The “kidnapping” not only provided him with a ready-made excuse for not appearing before the grand jury, it also allowed him to continue to take it on the lam without appearing cowardly to the bulk of his remaining loyalists. The dinner with the lawyers set him up with an ironclad alibi: the next day, Maloney, his chief lawyer, would be able to face the judge and say, “Your Honor, my client had every intention of appearing before this august body. But, as Your Honor saw in the police report, and read in the newspapers, he was kidnapped by persons unknown and could not be here.” Faced with an eyewitness account from a member of the bar, the judge would be reluctant to issue a bench warrant charging Bonanno with being a fugitive from justice—thus keeping the FBI off Joe’s back and freeing him to wait until the grand jury’s term expired.

Bonanno cleverly won the battle, but he lost the war. His long absence left leadership of what remained of his family in the doubtful hands of his son Salvatore (Bill). The war continued, and murder and attrition whittled down his people. Bill went to prison on a wire fraud conviction (using an associate’s credit card) and Joe never truly regained control of what remained of his family. The Bonannos and their revolving-door leadership declined to the point that they no longer occupied a seat at the Commission’s table, until a measure of stability was restored by Joey Massino in the Nineties. And look where he ended up! Crime doesn’t pay.


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