Tony Green, Former Bonanno Street Boss, Resides At Brooklyn Halfway House
Anthony (Tony Green) Urso |
Tony Green went away to serve a 20-year stretch for murder and racketeering while he was street boss, a promotion he got after the family's official boss, Joseph Massino, was indicted in 2003. Massino went on to flip, wear a wire, and testify against acting boss Vincent (Vinny Gorgeous) Basciano. Newsday journalist Anthony DeStefano has written two excellent books about both Massino and Basciano, Vinny Gorgeous: The Ugly Rise And Fall Of A New York Mobster and King of the Godfathers.
Urso was tape-recorded calling for murdering the children of turncoats, arguing that it was the only way to stanch the seemingly endless flow of Bonanno defectors who were crippling the crime family at the time.
"It's gotta stop," a frustrated Urso was recorded saying during a September 13, 2003 discussion about turncoat underboss Salvatore Vitale.
In response, former acting underboss Joseph Cammarano cautioned Urso not to do anything that could hurt the family's then official boss Massino, who at the time was awaiting trial for eight murders.
Bonanno turncoat James (Louie) Tartaglione wore the wire that recorded Urso's infamous speech. Tartaglione recorded numerous discussions with Urso and Cammarano. The recordings were part of a four-year probe that led Federal prosecutors in Brooklyn to indict 27 Bonanno wiseguys and associates for racketeering and murder in January 2004.
Federal prosecutors played Urso's tape-recorded words at the trial of Massino, the so-called Last Don who was found guilty of seven mob murders and other racketeering charges.
Following Napolitano’s 1983 murder, Urso was put in Massino’s crew. Eventually, he grew close to Massino and drove for him. By 1988, Urso likely was elevated to capo. In the 1990s, then-underboss Vitale grew increasingly jealous of Urso's new power in the family and attempted to persuade Massino to murder Urso based on fabricated accusations.
Addendum:
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
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