Salvatore "Caesar" Maranzano

Salvatore was raised and educated in Castellammare del Golfo, in Sicily. There, he studied the Bible and Catholocism, with a minor in nuns.

In 1918, he shipped himself to America, and immediately became an enforcer for hire in Brooklyn. Around that part of town, Sicilians were scarce, so Maranzano learned to work with other ethnicities, unlike his contemporaries. Except for negros, of course. By 1922, Maranzano had founded a fledgeling bootlegging ring. With the help of Frank Costello's liquor from upstate, he whet the whistles of many a Manhattan flapper.

One thing that helped this empire succeed was Maranzano's newly designed liquor distribution plan. Every speakeasy in his territory was required to buy his booze. If they didn't, the place was immediately burnt to the ground or raided by the cops. The tactic quickly sent his market share through the roof.

Maranzano was obsessed with loyalty. This obsession extended to his clients as well as his goons. Bartenders were taken care of, in Maranzano's eyes, and so they should be happy to help out when there was a need. And they damn sure better not buy their booze from anyone else! The penalty for disloyalty typically involved cement overshoes and the Hudson River.

I Wish I was Caesar

But Maranzano felt he was the reincarnation of Julius Caesar, and Caesar would not let a little thing like borders stop him from expanding his influence. For Maranzano, it was fate. Rather then mess around with the unpredictable Schultz for the penny-ante negro world of the Bronx, Maranzano decided to take on Masseria's empire. He marshaled his gorillas, filled trucks with booze, and sent the beasts around the upper west side to muscle the hooch into the speakeasies there.

When Masseria found out about this, it is said, he literally shat himself with anger. He sent his goons to wipe out any Maranzano men they could find. The Castellmarese war broke out in 1928, and it claimed the lives of hundreds of young men. Italians on Masseria's side, and a mix of Jews, Irishmen, and Germans on Maranzano's.

One near casualty of the war was Lucky Luciano. Maranzano's men grabbed him one night in 1930 and slit his throat. They left him for dead on Coney Island, but he survived. He then set up a meeting with Maranzano to try and end the war. He proposed that he kill his boss, Joe Masseria, and then conceded the war to Maranzano, consolidating power and ending needless bloodshed. Maranzano agreed, and Lucky went out to whack his boss.

The hit came on April 15, 1931, and was carried out by Bugsy Siegel, Joe Adonis, Vito Genovese, and Albert Anastasia. As soon as Masseria was dead, Maranzano became the Caesar of New York.

The Emperor Has No Gumption

Afterwards, Lucky Luciano and his boys began to conspire. Maranzano knew this and placed Lucky atop his to-whack list. Unfortunately, Lucky's list had been drawn up in advance, and he started bumping off goons before Salvatore did.

Et Tu Levine?

However, one of them, Red Lavine, raised his hand to stop them from firing.

Levine pulled out a knife and, in what can only be described as a perfectly fitting tribute to Brutus, stabbed Maranzano four times before the boss fought him off. As soon as Levine was away, the remaining three gunmen mowed Salvatore down.

Soon after, Luciano swiped Maranzano's five families idea for his own. He divided up New York and then the rest of the country. Instead of a Caesar, America got the Crime Syndicate Board of Directors. Maranzano got a mafioso funeral complete with immense floral arrangements and mile long funeral procession.