My friend Pete

[joebill]

The link below is an obituary about a man who was a true blue friend to our family during rough times for both of us.

tucsoncitizen.com/morgue2/1997/01/29/213902-obituary/

pete Notaro was a "bodyguard" for the Bonanno crime family during the years when they were most active. he had started his own trucking company in New York as a 14 year old, and was prospering, but became involved with the "family" not long after. His busines began to recede as he spent more and more time working for them, became more and more involved.

When I met him, he was fresh out of prison after the spell he and Bill Bonanno spent there. This was the subject  of the book "honor thy father" by Gay Telese.

He was sick to death of the life he had led, and the opportunities that had blown by him, and wanted no more to do with the "family", but the Bonannos owned even the house he lived in and he had no income outside of what they provided him and the money his wife made working as a cook. he really wanted to open a restraunt for he and his wife to run, but got no encouragement or help from the "family". They still wanted him handy when needed.

I first met him when he stuck his head inside  the back door of my shop and asked if I wanted to buy some used lawnmower engines. Turned out, he was intent on being an embarasment to the Bonannos by dressing like a hobo and driving his ratty old pickup all over town, picking up junk out of alleys and selling it at swap meets. Of course, that soon hit the local papers and had the desired effect. The Bonannos wanted him to maintain a "proper image" but he was sick of all that stuff and had been for years. 

THEN, he stacked the swimming pool at his house (still owned by the family) full of old swing sets and other junk he had collected, then started to fill up the sidewalk in front of the house. The city, of course, called the owner (Joe Bonanno) and ordered him to have it cleaned up. More hassles for the "boss".

From time to time, though, I'd see Pete at the wheel of a brand new caddy, Lic. # JB1, wearing a three piece suit, driving one generation or another of the Bonannos around Tucson. He brought Bill into the shop once, introduced us, and Bill asked me for a favor, which did not do much for my peace of mind, especially when he said he needed his knife sharpened. When i told him I'd do it, he got this wide grin and dragged out a  tiny 2" pen knife on a keychain, then he and Pete chuckled as I turned it into a razor sharp little gem. The whole thing was a setup to get under my skin for a little fun.

I can see that this is going to drag on longer than I thought, so I'll close it for tonight and pick it up tomorrow or the next day if anybody is interested.....Joe 

[mzgarden]

There are some really interesting people out there to be met.

[Deleted]

More, please.

[joebill]

Around the time I met Pete, my business was in it's infancy, and I was struggling. I had left a steady job at the copper mines, which was a miserable existance of rotating shifts, 7 graveyards then 7 swing shifts then 7 day shifts then around 7 days off in a row, then start over.

I had used the days off and the early mornings on swing shift to start devolping some freelance income as an offhand grinder of dental tools and silversmith tools and whatever else I could find to do, and when the mines went on strike I drew my vacation pay, quit the job cold, opened a shop.

From the beginning I had too many irons in the fire but was afraid to turn any work down because I knew how fast it could dry up, leaving me without an income. I was running around in circles, floundering. beginning to question my sanity for leaving a secure income.

Pete had become a pretty good friend who liked to come in for coffee, but knew when it was time to leave and let me get back to work. he had told me about being in the trucking business as a boy, all the hopes he had had for himself and his life as a young man in New York, how he had slowly given up the business struggle in favor of the "security" of working for and with the Bonannos. He was paying the price at the time we met, and had been for some time.

He told me that if I gave up and went and found a job; "Some morning in your life you will get out of bed, look in the mirror and see......ME!" which was pretty unsettling, because at the time he looked like a truly worn-out version of Buddy Hackett at his fattest.

I could see all the troubles that security had cost him, what it was still costing that late in life. He and his very gracious wife were still living in the house that had drawn all that gunfire and the bombs back in the 60's and the neighbors still wished he would pack up and leave. Now, he was a convicted felon, couldn't go armed, had to tolerate whatever came his way because the law would dearly love one more crack at him. He was at the mercy of a set of employers who were not known to have any.

Sure, I knew that the usual sort of job would not demand the kind of payment later in life that the title of "mafioso" demanded, but I had seen the same sort of regrets in my Dad's later years. The things he wanted to do in his life that he could have done well, but never happened because he had a job to hang on to. That image of seeing Pete in my mirror was a pretty good motivator, and I got myself and my business together and made it work.

He stopped by the house from time to time, and when he saw that my wife was expecting, he treated her like a queen. She couldn't get up and serve him coffee or anything else. She was with me in the truck once when I stopped by his house to pick up some steel and his wife came out and insisted she come in to cool off and have something to drink.

At that time, the Notaros still had no privacy from much of anybody. People still went through his trash and he figured the feds still had his phone tapped. They REALLY wanted old Joe to spend just one night in jail (he finally did some time over something). They figured they might get info from Pete that could put him there.

I could and did listen to his stories for hours. Much of the Mafia legend is BS, but the truth is often more interesting than the legends. Especially the truth from the guys at the bottom who had no delusions of glory.

We stoped by to let them know when we bought our place in the country and were moving our home and the business, and Pete took a small wall-mounted blackboard he had in his den and wrote a phone number on the back of it....handed it to me. Said "NOBODY has this number. if you ever have really bad trouble, call me. Don't ever call me for anything else".

After we got moved, before I hung up the blackboard, I sanded off the number.....Joe

[Ozarks Tom]

What a sad story. Did you ever see him again after you moved?

I knew a couple mafia guys in Dallas but they, by all appearances, were living the good life. One and his son owned the fanciest restaurant in town, the other was the son of a Capo who owned a big market in the toughest area in S. Dallas. The market was never robbed, and shoplifting was never a problem. The son made a good living running floating blackjack games. He could have been a magician in Vegas with they way he made just the right cards appear when he wanted.

[joebill]

Never saw him or spoke to him again. I figured he was trying to tell me something at the last. I didn't know what, but he didn't make idle remarks that I ever heard. When he said never to call him unless I had really bad trouble, I resolved never to call him, no matter what. He'd had enough trouble in his life for both of us, and I'd not bring my share of trouble to him if it ever got bad.

he seemed like his health was very poor when I knew him, and when I finally found his obit, I was surprised that he had lived as long as he did. Maybe his wife was telling it straight and he did manage to get loose from the "family" soon after and recovered some of his health and happiness. I hope so.....Joe

[Deleted]

So sad. I hope he found peace.

[nanci]

Aug 23, 2016 2:48:57 GMT joebill said:

The link below is an obituary about a man who was a true blue friend to our family during rough times for both of us.

tucsoncitizen.com/morgue2/1997/01/29/213902-obituary/

pete Notaro was a "bodyguard" for the Bonanno crime family during the years when they were most active. he had started his own trucking company in New York as a 14 year old, and was prospering, but became involved with the "family" not long after. His busines began to recede as he spent more and more time working for them, became more and more involved.

When I met him, he was fresh out of prison after the spell he and Bill Bonanno spent there. This was the subject  of the book "honor thy father" by Gay Telese.

He was sick to death of the life he had led, and the opportunities that had blown by him, and wanted no more to do with the "family", but the Bonannos owned even the house he lived in and he had no income outside of what they provided him and the money his wife made working as a cook. he really wanted to open a restraunt for he and his wife to run, but got no encouragement or help from the "family". They still wanted him handy when needed.

I first met him when he stuck his head inside  the back door of my shop and asked if I wanted to buy some used lawnmower engines. Turned out, he was intent on being an embarasment to the Bonannos by dressing like a hobo and driving his ratty old pickup all over town, picking up junk out of alleys and selling it at swap meets. Of course, that soon hit the local papers and had the desired effect. The Bonannos wanted him to maintain a "proper image" but he was sick of all that stuff and had been for years. 

THEN, he stacked the swimming pool at his house (still owned by the family) full of old swing sets and other junk he had collected, then started to fill up the sidewalk in front of the house. The city, of course, called the owner (Joe Bonanno) and ordered him to have it cleaned up. More hassles for the "boss".

From time to time, though, I'd see Pete at the wheel of a brand new caddy, Lic. # JB1, wearing a three piece suit, driving one generation or another of the Bonannos around Tucson. He brought Bill into the shop once, introduced us, and Bill asked me for a favor, which did not do much for my peace of mind, especially when he said he needed his knife sharpened. When i told him I'd do it, he got this wide grin and dragged out a  tiny 2" pen knife on a keychain, then he and Pete chuckled as I turned it into a razor sharp little gem. The whole thing was a setup to get under my skin for a little fun.

I can see that this is going to drag on longer than I thought, so I'll close it for tonight and pick it up tomorrow or the next day if anybody is interested.....Joe 

I love it - keep going!