Nation: Luck Ran Out

Yes, we have Joe Bananas

He began as a bootlegger in Brooklyn at 21 and by 24 was a gunrunner for Al Capone. He dispatched his duties so well that in 1931 Sicilian-born Joseph Bonanno was anointed a don—at 26, the youngest godfather in the nation. For the next three decades, "Joe Bananas" ruthlessly ran a New York City crime family that specialized in gambling, labor racketeering, loan sharking and narcotics. In 1966 he supposedly retired to a modest ranch house in Tucson.

His remarkable luck ran out last week. In San Francisco, U.S. District

Court Judge William Ingram found the white-haired Bonanno, 75, and Nephew Jack DiFilippi, 54, guilty of conspiring to interfere with a federal grand jury probe of four now defunct companies in San Jose, Calif.—two construction firms, a manufacturer of mattresses and a women's clothing company—that were run by the don's two sons, Salvatore (Bill), 48,* and Joseph Jr., 35. According to federal authorities, the companies were laundering money from illegal Mafia activities.

For the first time, Bonanno's glib tongue could not keep him out of trouble, as it did in 1964, when three rival dons had him kidnaped after he tried to become the nation's top Mafioso, the capo di tutti capi (boss of all bosses). Bonanno persuaded his captors that under the Mafia's bylaws they had no authority to kill him. But they did not release him for 18 months, until he promised to retire and devote his remaining years to reading Aristotle and listening to opera. Instead, Bonanno quickly took over Arizona's burgeoning rackets and set up a nationwide chain of companies that virtually controls the mozzarella cheese business in the U.S. and Canada.

The FBI regularly tapped his home phone, forcing him to place calls from out-of-the-way booths; as an extra precaution, he conducted business in his native Sicilian dialect. Twice a week, law enforcement officials dutifully collected his trash. Digging through the coffee grounds and other garbage, they hit pay dirt: notes by Bonanno of phone conversations concerning his sons' business activities, which enabled federal authorities to piece together evidence that Bonanno and DiFilippi had conspired to withhold records from the grand jury and influence witnesses.

He now faces up to five years in jail and as much as $10,000 in fines; DiFilippi confronts the same penalties, plus another 15 years and $30,000 for an additional conviction of perjury. Both intend to appeal. If Bonanno does indeed go to jail, it will be the first time. His only previous conviction was for violating wage and hour laws at his New York clothing factory in 1945; he was fined $450 and placed on probation.