No Fear
Recent incidents raise a question: Is anybody scared of Philly's mob?
by Brendan McGarvey and Gabriele J. Valentine



It doesn't seem as if the local mob can even buy a little respect these days. Earlier this year, Marty Angelina, acting underboss of Philadelphia's La Cosa Nostra, was beaten up by a member of the notorious 10th and O Gang.

Bad move, right? You'd never know it from the punishment doled out for the January incident at Delilah's. According to mob watchers, the 10th and O guy was merely forced to apologize a couple of weeks ago. Which, says one Mafia expert, means that "They let him get away with it. I mean, he had to say, 'I'm sorry, Marty.' That's it! I'm sorry? Ten years ago, the Mob would have wiped out 10th and O for putting their hands on a made guy."

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Then again, the 10th and O boys are not your average criminals. They're South Philly guys from around 10th and Oregon avenues; many are Italian-American and all are involved in drug trafficking. The gang has existed for almost 40 years and has included several generations of local families. Today, it's splintered into two smaller crews that cooperate with one another and operate in South Philadelphia and South Jersey, often working hand-in-glove with other organized-crime groups, including the Mafia. But just as often, they've been willing to wage war with their underworld neighbors.

In August 1999, a member of the 10th and O gang tried to kill the reputed leader of the local Pagan biker gang, Steven "Gorilla" Mondevergine. Gorilla was shot nine times but survived and several years later, he wounded a 10th and O guy during a daylight shooting on a South Philly street corner.

Four years earlier, 10th and O crew boss Louis "Louie" Turra was furious with the Mafia and refused to pay the mob a street tax to operate his multimillion-dollar drug ring. The mob sent a few leg breakers to viciously beat him so, infuriated and humiliated, Turra plotted to kill mob leader Joseph "Skinny Joey" Merlino. But Turra chose the wrong hit man for the job: the gunman was an FBI informant.

In 1997, Turra and 14 other gang members, including his father, Anthony, were indicted on federal racketeering charges. Louie committed suicide in jail while awaiting trial and two months later, in March 1998, Anthony Turra was gunned down outside his South Philadelphia row house. The police said the mob did it and showed up at Merlino's clubhouse to "interview" the mob boss and two of his associates. One of the reputed mob associates taken in for questioning that day was Angelina, who was never charged although some organized crime investigators believed he played a role.

Continuing down the mob's Rodney Dangerfield path, a certain mobster was thrown out of his house by his wife last week after she read a City Paper account of an unsavory late-night party [Underworld, "It Isn't Real!," Brendan McGarvey and Gabriele Valentine, June 21, 2007].

In February, Angelina was headed back to prison for parole violations when fellow wise guys threw him a going-back-to-jail party at an Old City nightclub. During the private soiree, a beautiful woman wearing a dog collar and leash crawled along the bar and proceeded to paw at one mobster's private parts while others cheered her on. Although no names were mentioned, one CP-reading wife presumed that it was her husband holding the leash that night and promptly kicked the Mafioso to the curb for acting like a dog.

On top of all that, it seems that even neighborhood dirtbags seem to be losing their fear of the mob. In the last month, someone has broken into the corner store at Ninth and Moore not once, but twice. The store has been a mob hangout for decades, according to numerous law enforcement and mob sources, but many neighbors seem to appreciate the presence of a group of seemingly polite young and middle-aged men who sit on the corner benches and play cards inside the store. More than a few have told CP that, over the years, the mobsters, associates and wannabes who hang there keep the neighborhood safe. They say local hoodlums and drug dealers give the quiet neighborhood a wide berth. But someone isn'tso impressed.

While locals blame a bold, drug-addicted neighborhood teen for the break-ins, at least one mob watcher has a different spin. He thinks the feds are breaking in to plant electronic listening devices to spy on the men who allegedly use the store to run gambling and loan-sharking operations.

"Of course they want to make it look like it's a neighbor burglary," the mob insider says. "That way, nobody suspects the FBI."