The Outfit's long decline

L-R: Paul Ricca, Felix Alderisio, Sam DeStefano, Joe Aiuppa, Jackie Cerone, Sam Giancana

"You understand – If I make money, you make money."

Chicago Tribune Reporter Bob Wiedrich wrote an obituary of sorts on the Outfit in 1974: “Paul (The Waiter) Ricca, last of the real Chicago Mafia dons, lies in a crypt of Italian marble at Queen of Heaven Mausoleum in west-suburban Hillside, the victim of a heart that failed. And the murderous Felix (Milwaukee Phil) Alderisio is in the ground not far from his former boss, also planted by the treachery of a heart no one suspected he had.” The dogged reporter lays it on with a trowel, adding, “When the moon is full over nearby Mount Carmel Cemetery, the tortured souls of loan-shark Sam DeStefano's many victims must surely trample his grave. Sam was the most vicious of the gangland killers, so there was rejoicing even in the hereafter, no doubt, when a shotgun tore him apart last April.”

​In the dead from “natural causes” column: North side boss, Ross Prio; loan sharks like Joseph Gagliano, Sam Battaglia, and Fiore Buccieri; old school racketeer like Sam English; and political fixer Murray Humphrey. By 1974, practically the entire top of the Outfit org chart was six feet underground.

Prison took its toll, too. Staring out from behind bars were Joe Amabile, Rocco Pranno, and William Messino all presently enjoyed the hospitality of the federal or state prison systems. Others walked on eggs, like recently paroled heavyweights Marshall Caifano and Jackie Cerone. Even Sam Giancana went on the lam, enjoying a lush, self-imposed exile in Cuernavaca, Mexico.
​
The Outfit hadn’t been shy about putting their power boldly out front. Every Fourth of July, semi-retired Outfit Chairman Tony Accardo held a lavish lawn party at his 22-room River Forest mansion. The guest list mixed hoodlums, mobsters, gangsters, police captains, alderman, and politicians.

The list of White Hands who willingly helped Black Hands goes on longer than a capo’s rap sheet. Layers of dirt were stacked on a base of graft to build a mountain of corruption. Non-corrupt members of law enforcement caught Cicero boss Joe Aiuppa on tape describing the simple but effective method for bribing a sheriff’s detective in 1965: "Every month I will see that there is a C-note ($100) or some worldly goods in your mailbox…All I want from you is information, so they will not be kicking me with the point of the shoe but the side of the shoe. If you find something out, see something I should know. You think I should know about it. I'll give you a (telephone) number. You follow me?"

​After Aiuppa believed he had the cop on the hook, he explained how life worked for mob adjacent cops: “You understand – If I make money, you make money. You have a chance to make a little money now. Do you think the guy with the $4,000 or $5,000 job, driving a new car with $100 suits, you think this is all done with his salary? Do you?"

Unfortunately for Aiuppa, the police officer was working a sting on the mob boss. The days of having a lock on items ranging from luxury goods to food, vending machines, and so forth faded into history. In the past, trying to build so much as a lean-to without Outfit workers or resources was largely impossible. But the lack of leadership led to a lack of manpower; the lack of manpower meant cracks in the structure went unpatched. When there are enough unpatched cracks, the whole thing comes crashing down.

With so many of the Outfit heavyweights deposed or indisposed, gambling revenues fell. The famous floating crap games sank alongside the Tommy gun and bathtub gin. Bob Wiedrich wrote with a mix of pride and chagrin: “A guy has a hard time laying down a $2 bet in Chicago. And organized prostitution has evolved into small call-girl rings and independent operators because, in a changing society, too many liberated women are giving away their favors.”

Lasting damage had been done. Bosses like Alderisio, Battaglia, Cerone, Ricca and Gagliano fell victim to death, the FBI, Internal Revenue Service, and Federal Grand Juries. Some fled the country (like Sam Giancana) or were deported like Santos Trafficante. After Giancana, Sam Battaglia took over as CEO. A year later, he was in jail. Then Jackie Cerone took over. He went to prison, too. Next, Joe Accardo and Paul Rica stepped up to save the Outfit from oblivion. Following Ricca’s death in 1972, Accardo tried to put his Humpty Dumpty Outfit back together again, but it wasn’t working. On the day of Rica’s funeral, Accardo told a reporter, "I lost the best friend a man could have." Next, the ever-ambitious Fifi Buccieri stepped center stage until cancer turned out his lights.

Nobody ever said being boss was easy.