So, as I lived in Tucson, Arizona for six
or some odd years, I learned about the mafia presence in Tucson. Even though
through the years, their presence has dwindled as the mafia of old, aged and
retired into the mountains to enjoy a life of quiet and nice weather year-round. Crime boss Joe Bonanno resided in Tucson for many years and ran an
empire but a few others, the rare Mafioso that survived violence, retired out
to Tucson. I had heard of such tales and saw firsthand when I went to the
Tucson Music Hall to watch the play, A Bronx Tale, featuring Chazz Palminteri.
I stood on the second floor and looked at a group of a few older, overweight
men dressed in suits and ties. What hair remained was slicked and their shoes
recently polished. A couple of men nearby them looked around the theater
entrance while the gentlemen spoke – pure-blooded Italian, they looked. A Bronx
Tale, a play telling the tale of the mafia in New York was quite fitting. I
wondered who they were and their background – if any. Possibly they were just
there from harmless backgrounds. We must not judge one another but having
studied the mafia and seeing numerous photographs, etc., I can only assume.
Having worked retail for fifteen years, I’ve
met some interesting people. One incident happened as I was cashiering at the
local grocery store Bashas’, up near Sabino Canyon. The area is quite nice and
a lot of wealthier people live in that part of town. One night an elderly
couple came through my line after I was called up to backup cashier. They were
likely in their seventies and dressed very nicely. The woman’s hair was white
and curled, dressed wearing real fur around her shoulders. As the man started
talking to me, she stepped a few feet away to the side. The man had a thin
stature with his thin white hair combed back. He wore a nice suit with tie and
gold jewelry around his neck, wrists, and came to me with a thick Italian
accent. Speaking with the man, his first words, not even a hello or proper
greeting, was how easy it would be for him to kill me. Then, he said he could
use a gun but that would be too loud. Or, he could use a knife but that would
be too messy. He continued speaking that he could reach over and punch me in
the neck or even strangle me which would be the best way. I continued ringing
up his items, unknowing how serious he was but with the way he looked at me
directly in my eyes, he looked serious. On the other hand, with his age, I
figured that he wouldn’t. I thought that he was likely a retired mafia, or possibly
not retired, reliving his younger days. Perhaps his mind was going and he was
remembering ways he had killed before. I thanked him, not wanting to upset him
during the awkward exchange, as his wife continued to stand quietly behind him.
He gave a slight smile as he collected his bag, continuing to make eye contact.
The smile was not a genuine smile of a gentleman, but one of a hidden past.
I’ve always wondered who he was but I can only imagine, never truly feeling
threatened, to know that he possibly could have killed me since he may have
killed before.
