My dinner with the former boss of the San Francisco mob was unexpected.
My life in a small Midwestern town was predestined to carry on the ancestral tradition of settling down, getting married and having children. But kismet had another idea in mind by bringing my person and best friend into the picture.
The connection was undeniable and within a few months, I left my familiar haven in Michigan to venture out into the unknown. The adventure was not only inspiring and memorable but terrifying since I was without my safety net. The
first stop was Arizona with the next stop being California 1 ½ years later where we decided to settle in the San Francisco Bay Area because of a career opportunity.
My first encounter with Jimmy “The Hat” Lanza was that of trepidation, wonder and interest as I learned of his criminal past. You see, Jimmy was a Sicilian-American mobster and boss of the San Francisco crime family after serving as an underboss in the 1940s – 1950s. Jimmy took control in the 1960s after his boss was indicted and sent back to Italy and served it that role for over two (2) decades. Jimmy was engaged in gambling interests, contract hits, etc. He also had ties to Las Vegas and other famous mob bosses across the country like Jimmy “The Weasel” Fratianno.
J. Edgar Hoover ordered an illegal wire tap on Lanza’s businesses for over six (6) years because the FBI was unsuccessful in recruiting informants to infiltrate his organization.
My colleagues would share their memories of Jimmy “The Hat” and his entourage pulling up in their expensive automobiles to the valet parking lot at Bay Meadows Racecourse, a thoroughbred racing facility in San Mateo, CA. Their recollections painted Jimmy as a colorful person with stories to tell and a great sense of humor. Jimmy et al., would saunter out of the race track with valet ticket in hand joking with the attendants while yielding a handful of cash as tip money.
My interactions with Jimmy started during our numerous chats in the hallway of the Executive offices at the race track. Jimmy, wearing his signature fedora while being pushed in a wheelchair by his caregiver, would stop by my office usually with a gift in hand before attending the races. In return, I would supply him with a stack of daily passes for him and his friends to use throughout the racing season.
He had an infectious smile and my fondest memory was the way he would yell
“MARIA” in that Italian accent as soon as he saw my face as he was being wheeled down the hallway. It was difficult to process that the person I was becoming familiar with was involved in criminal mob activities for over 40 years.
One day shortly after his 100th birthday, Jimmy asked if I’d like to join him for dinner at a local Italian restaurant. I accepted his invitation and met him and his caregiver for dinner. It was like something out of a movie with a number of guests stopping by the table to give their respects and kiss the ring. I was in amazement as to how a woman from a small Midwestern town ended up in the company of a notorious mobster who was featured in Life magazine.
The conversation flowed easily and was interesting, but I found that I became fixated on part of his finger that was missing at the knuckle. Being a movie fanatic with a wild imagination helped me conjure up possible scenarios of how he lost part of his finger.
At the end of the evening, I remembered going home feeling thankful for my bravery of experiencing a dinner with Jimmy “The Hat” Lanza and that I didn’t end up in the San Francisco Bay sleeping with the fishes.
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