| Chapter 5: | The Racketeers |
pigeon coop. He allowed only Gee Gee to fly his prized birds. On summer days when I would go up to my roof, I would watch Gee Gee, stick in hand, flying Benny’s pigeons with the same dexterity of a Toscanini conducting the New York Philharmonic. Shirtless, Gee Gee seemed to be doing pirouettes in some intricate ballet with birds.
I never got close to him. I feared Gee Gee. To me he resembled the comic book Human Torch. Muscular and curly-haired, he appeared to have electric currents running through his body. He seemed to be on fire. I learned years later that he was a hitman for organized crime.
My brother Alfred stayed out late one night and was sitting on the stoop when Gee Gee called him from a Pontiac. Alfred noticed that the car had Michigan plates.
“Hey kid,” Gee Gee yelled out to my brother. “Come on. I’ll take you for a ride.”
They rode a few blocks when a police car stopped Gee Gee. The cops remained in their s quad car, took one look at Gee Gee, apparently recognized him, and without saying a word the cops drove off.
“They forgot to say good night,” Gee Gee said.
Gee Gee had a gorgeous wife who might have been a showgirl in her prime. Dressed in tight dresses, high heels, and a scarf tied around her neck, she could never have been confused with Joan Leslie, an actress who played the role of the good girl in films. She would often stand on the stoop of her building in what seemed to be the posing positions of a Broadway showgirl.