My father’s memory of his days scrapping with elements of Tampa’s mafia remain a frequent topic at family dinner conversations and other moments when something or someone suddenly prompts him. Lately, this occurs when either one of “those people” from that era, or perhaps a colleague from the police department, is featured in the Tampa obits. Always an earful.
We’d hear about Santo Trafficante, Frank (“Ten and Two”) Diecidue and Anthony Antone, The Cracker Mob, the lounge wars, arson, dynamiting, drive-bys, the cold, calculated homicide of Det. Sgt. Richard Cloud, corruption at TPD’ top levels, as well as the distant ties to our own Tampa family and the truced dichotomy created by them. Naturally, these stories lead to the creation of my novel Bolita. (Hey, I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least reference it twice)
But Professor Taylor’s knowledge of the Cosa Nostra didn’t end with his Tampa experiences, or, as he regularly reminds, the hit placed on him during an investigative visit to New Orleans — a sanctioned contract purported by his FBI contacts — when the List of Five was thought to be in play (this is also paralleled in Bolita, with Cloud being first). Because of this, Det. Taylor became a mob scholar of sorts, which included an uncanny photographic recollection of their history, and of those who fought them. Maybe more about all this in future posts. For now, let’s start … at the beginning.
Originally published May 5, 1988 in the Gainesville Times, Det. Sgt. Alex Taylor (ret) gives us the etymology of the Sicilian mob, and notes on its forefathers. Suggested accompanying aperitivo? Onion rings, and order some for the whole tabl…
