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| Family Memoirs - The Lambretta's | Started by: Sonny_Lambretta on Apr 24, '09 10:17 |
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My name is Sonny Lambretta, and that is my story. My father was a made guy. His brother was a made guy. Their father, was a made guy, and his father, you guessed it, was a made guy, only he was in Sicily, and they didn't call him a made guy, but everyone knew it. My great grandpappy was a respected guy back on the Island. Ran his own businesses, was connected to some people who knew some people. What I'm saying is, he wasn't just some peasant shmuck. Maybe that's what got him into trouble. He was a hot head, like all the men in the family I guess. He killed some guy over this petty feud. This guy tried shaking him down, demanded money for his "protection". My grand pa, he tells the guy he can protect himself, and proves it by shooting him in the stomach. So now he's gotta run, hes just shot a member of the mafia, and hes a marked guy. He gets to the docks and jumps on the first boat to the beautiful US of A He gets into New York, and sees the city is ripe for a bit of business. Theres not too many Italians there at the time, a lot of Germans and Irish gangs running things, but nothing is organised. That's the way he liked it though, 'cus he wasn't a man who followed the pack. It's the turn of the century, 1900 or so and he's only been in the city for a couple of weeks before he's getting connected. He gets involved with some Mick gang, and ends up running some speak easy for them with his sons (my grandpa and his brother), buying the booze of these Irish guys from Canada. Thing is, he's paying a hefty fee to them for the "protection" of his business. He's paying these potato eaters twice, and he ain't happy. So one day when they come to collect, he takes them out back and his sons cut them up. Corse now, they trod on the toes of this gang, and so they take the prudent option and gets outa New York. They knew some guys who were looking for some muscle in Boston, and they go there to help out. Thing is though, these guys in Boston heard about a hit on my grandpa, and he disappears on the way to Boston. His dad dies a little bit later, from grief, if you wanna believe that, but more likely it was the booze that killed him. So its just my dad left holding the family name. He earns a small living in Boston, a small time crook, fists for hire sorta thing. It ain't a great life, until there's a bit of upheaval and he gets bumped up the ranks, and gets his button. He works hard in Boston, makes a bit of money for his boss, but makes even more money on the side hiring his services out. His boss doesn't appreciate this moonlighting, so he has a word with my dad, tells him to cut it out. My dad, always a literal man, takes a knife to his bosses throat, tries to kill him, but he's a tough son of a bitch, and manages to throttle my dad. I'm just 3 years old when that happened, I don't remember him too good. Anyway, my ma takes me and my kid sister away to Detroit 'cus she's got family there to help raise us. Detroit, nice town, plenty of opportunity for a thug like me. And that's where I am now, a young punk acting tough, petty thieving and slinging some dope. It ain't a great life, but I hear the prospects are good. I hope my families temper doesn't run in my veins, following the same road as my dad, and his dad, and his brother, and on and on back throughout the years.. |
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| good story to read :) | |
| Reply by: Santino_Brasi at Apr 25, '09 21:14 | |
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