Abestia

This journal entry was written 1-29-05, on a bus from San Jose, Costa Rica on the way to the grandely notorious, ghetto fishing hub of Puntarenas, a few days after  my Uncle Gino died.

Gino Cappelletti.  The obit said 69 years old.  It lied I think.  Gino and his 2 sisters were put in an orphanage run by nasty nuns when he was around 5 years old.  He tried to run away often and got flogged repeatedly.  My mom said the nuns hit them for any little thing.  After about 2 years, one of his aunts got him out, and their grandmother got my aunt and mom out.  It was that Italian side of the family that dominated their identities and cultures for the rest of their lives.

Gino was one of the smartest kids in school - sharp at math, which would benefit him in his future life as a bookie and career scam artist.

Born Eugene Kuebler, the son of an eccentric, cheap-ass German father, and an even more eccentric, sticky fingered Italian mother, who wasn’t much for cleanliness.  

His dad lived in the ghetto of Newark on Bergen Street most of his adult life, in the only building on his block not burned down in the riots - He stayed there almost to the end through all of Newark’s tragic changes - Eugene senior was a tough old fucker, who tried out for the legendary semi-pro baseball team, The Newark Bears, that flourished in the 1930’s.  His older brother Duke pitched for them. 

Senior carried around a little 22 caliber pistol for protection.  On his final day, he used it to put himself down with a shot to the heart.  His apartment was packed with 30 year old magazines and newspapers that he couldn’t throw away.  Roaches and mildewy old newspapers, filth and grime all around him as he stashed around $220,000 in the bank over a 30 year career at The Pabst Blue Ribbon brewery.  He wouldnt spend it -wouldnt share it, and his daughters resented him for it.

Gino acted like he didn’t resent him, but when the shit hit, and he needed money, #2 felt no guilt when he scammed 10 grand out of #1 before he ran off to Vegas. Owing money to several bookies and sharks, he left Newark with his temporary partner in crime, Nick M, arrived in Vegas and changed his name to Cappelletti.  Within weeks the Stardust casino became his place of employment, and provided a never ending flow of stolen cash.  

In his teens he ran with a gang called the Pontiacs.  He claimed to have been a great street athlete, but never bothered with organized sports.  He opted for organized crime - gambling and the track - women and the party.  Unlike his dad, Gino spent money faster than it came in.  That two hundred and twenty grand that his dad saved over a career slaving away at Pabst, would be stolen over a month of heists in Vegas, then given away, spent and gambled in a week or two.  His ex wife, who he met when she was 21 and him 41, said that he was the most exciting man in Las Vegas.  Winning or losing ten thousand at a crap table was routine. 

In his heyday, his suits were colorful and tailored perfectly. He had more character, brains and wit then any gangster on either coast and he didnt give a fuck about any Cosa Nostra.  But he knew how to work his way into the mob’s inner circle, make his friends, make his money, then move in and out of those circles, while keeping himself alive.  Gangsters trusted him to the point that, although he was a big player in the Stardust casino heist of the 1970’s, when shit got serious and bodies were getting buried in the desert regularly, Gino, in spite of being under indictment, for whatever reason, got a pass from the Chicago mob, who took their chances and let him live.  Then he played the FBI agent who was assigned to him like a maestro.  Months of conversations and a real friendship developed with the fed who would eventually get nothing from him.  At least thats what Gino told me.  No trial for Gino, no indictments on others based on his lack of information.

He walked without ratting, in one of his most masterful uses of personality, time and bullshit - Evenutally enough people died, enough got pinched, and Gino’s stories to the fed were based enough in truth to be believable, yet didnt provide enough info to bring anyone down.  So although his casino career was over (an indictment in Vegas is a lifetime condemnation) he walked away from millions stolen without ever spending a day in the joint.

Coming soon: The Scams