When the Mob Protested The Godfather

Paramount Movies via YouTube
Paramount Movies via YouTube

Francis Ford Coppola was just a few months into production on The Godfather when he began directing the fictional assassinations Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) orders against family rivals. On June 28, 1971, as a Corleone hitman aimed his prop gun under Coppola’s direction, a very similar scene was taking place just four blocks away. Joe Colombo, a professed real estate agent who led the Italian-American Civil Rights League in protesting stereotyped depictions of Italians in film, was approaching a podium to make a speech during a rally at Columbus Circle in New York. He was oblivious to the very real gun being aimed at his head.

For months, Colombo had waged war against the Paramount movie, asserting it propagated an exaggerated fiction about the existence of the mafia. Colombo had intimated there would be labor issues, production delays, and other, less defined obstacles that could threaten to curtail the studio’s multimillion investment in their adaption of Mario Puzo's 1969 novel. He could make such statements because, in addition to his real estate interests, Colombo was a major figure in organized crime.

Before Colombo could utter a word at the rally, a man disguised as a press photographer dropped his camera, raised a revolver, and shot Colombo three times in the head and neck. Colombo’s men immediately retaliated, shooting the assassin dead.

For Paramount, any sense of relief would be short-lived. In making sure nothing interrupted filming of The Godfather, producers had made a very public—and very costly—pact with the mob.

When prodded by reporters, the outspoken Colombo would deny there was any such thing as a mafia. “Mafia, what's a mafia?” he was once quoted as saying. “There is not a mafia. Am I head of a family? Yes. My wife and four sons and a daughter. That's my family.”

A cursory investigation of Colombo’s past would reveal otherwise. After commandeering the Profaci crime family in the mid-1960s, and capitalizing on the void left by incarcerated boss "Crazy" Joe Gallo, Colombo quickly rose through the ranks of New York’s notorious Five Families. He had been indicted for tax evasion and accused by the FBI of running a widespread gambling and extortion ring.

Most suspected criminals would keep a low profile. Instead, Colombo decided to go big. Co-creating the Italian-American Civil Rights League, Colombo decried sensational media stories regarding Italian-Americans in general. He found support in members of his ethnicity—nearly 45,000 members—who were tired of the stereotypes. An Alka-Seltzer commercial with the catchphrase “That’s-a-some-a-spicy meatball” was an early target, and the League had success getting it removed from the airwaves. He also lobbied to have the word “mafia” taken out of scripts for television’s The FBI.

In rallying law-abiding Italians and depicting himself as the aggrieved party, Colombo was successful in helping to stifle reference to the terms "mafia" or "la cosa nostra" in popular culture. As soon as Paramount announced plans to produce The Godfather, he had acquired his biggest target to date.

The film version of the Puzo novel had been brought to the studio by producer Robert Evans, who had acquired Puzo’s treatment in 1968. Puzo, heavily in debt due to a gambling habit, was eager to have the book and film rights erase his ledger. He openly admitted his research into organized crime was limited to asking questions of dealers and players during card games in casinos.

The Godfather sold 750,000 copies in hardcover and would go on to sell millions more in paperback. Because of the book’s success, the adaptation was heavily publicized before a single frame had been shot. When Colombo got wind of it, he made it known that the production would not be welcome in New York locations if it insisted on embracing stereotypes—a clever misdirection that helped take some attention off his own criminal doings.

Although Colombo never took credit for it, the film’s producer, Al Ruddy, began experiencing a series of unsettling events that seemed connected to the League’s public protests. His car windows were shot out; threatening phone calls came into his office. Strange cars followed him on the road. At Gulf & Western, Paramount’s parent corporation, phoned-in bomb threats evacuated the building twice.

Ruddy grew concerned, not only for his own welfare but for that of the picture. If Colombo wanted to disrupt the production by ordering Teamsters to sit idle or to arrange for scenery—or even actors—to come up missing, it would be disastrous.

Ruddy decided to capitulate. In early 1971, he arranged for a meeting with Joe Colombo and his son, Anthony, to discuss the picture. Ruddy handed them the 155-page script and insisted the film wouldn’t embrace the stereotypes the League was opposing.

Colombo was there to deal. He told Ruddy that if the filmmakers struck any mention of “mafia” or “la cosa nostra” from the script and donated proceeds from the movie’s premiere to the League, he wouldn’t obstruct the filming. Sensing he didn’t have much choice, Ruddy agreed: A public pronouncement was made in March 1971 that indicated The Godfather had the blessing of the League.

When executives at Gulf & Western learned Ruddy had essentially made a handshake deal with the mob, they were furious. Stock prices plummeted; Ruddy was called to the carpet and fired from the film, only to be rehired at Coppola's insistence.

If Colombo felt like a winner, it wouldn’t last long. His strategy of an aggressive defense may have won him small victories in the general public’s knowledge of the mafia, but it would cause a fatal reaction among those in organized crime who didn’t like Colombo’s profile.

By NBC - RMY Auctions, Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons

Months into shooting, Coppola had turned his attention from quieter scenes featuring family patriarch Don Corleone (Marlon Brando) to the bloodshed resulting from his assassination. On June 28 and 29, 1971, the director shot grisly scenes of mob hits featuring machine guns and squibs.

Four blocks away from the film’s location, Colombo had assembled a rally for an Italian-American Unity Day. As he moved to the podium, a photographer with a press pass named Jerome Johnson cut through the crowd and toward the stage. Before Colombo realized what was happening, Johnson had raised a gun and fired three shots, hitting Colombo in the head. More guns were drawn, and Johnson was shot dead on the spot.

Colombo was rushed to the hospital, but his injuries were severe. He spent the next seven years in a coma before passing away in 1978.

Although the murder was never officially solved, it was believed that a returning and vengeful Gallo, tired of Colombo’s grandstanding, ordered his rival’s demise. In what was thought to be a retaliatory attack, he was killed just one year later while eating at a restaurant for his birthday.

The murders were a surprise to Coppola, who had been concerned the violence depicted in the film might be outdated in what appeared to be a newer, more pacifistic organized crime landscape. When it opened in March 1972, The Godfather seemed more timely and prescient than ever.

Ruddy was unable to keep his promise to devote the premiere’s profits to the League, as Paramount refused to honor the deal. But he did host a private screening for the hundreds of limo-riding private citizens who expressed an interest in seeing the film in the New York area. They loved it and congratulated Ruddy on the accomplishment. Months prior, Ruddy had been forced to keep a .45 automatic gun in his desk drawer. It had been an uneasy, necessary alliance.

“Without the mafia’s help, it would’ve been impossible to make the picture,” Ruddy said.

Scientists Just Created 3D Digital Replicas of John F. Kennedy’s Assassination Bullets

NIST
NIST

Part of the National Archives and Record Administration’s duty is to provide the public with access to its billions of pages of texts, maps, photos, film, and other artifacts of American history—but some of them aren’t so easy to view. The bullets from John F. Kennedy's assassination, for example, have long been considered too fragile for anything but sitting in a climate-controlled vault in Washington, D.C.

However, they recently took a field trip to the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) in Gaithersburg, Maryland, where the ballistics team there used advanced microscopic imaging techniques to create breathtakingly accurate 3D digital replicas.

jfk bullet 3D replica
NIST

According to a press release from NIST, the collection includes two fragments from the bullet that killed Kennedy, the so-called “stretcher bullet” that hit both Kennedy and then-governor of Texas, John Connally; two bullets from a test-fire of the assassin's rifle, and a bullet from an earlier unsuccessful assassination attempt on Army Major General Edwin Walker that might have come from the same rifle.

As you can probably imagine, the two fragments from Kennedy’s fatal bullet are the most affecting pieces of the collection. They also give you a pretty good understanding of how difficult it must have been to recreate them—the bits of metal are twisted into gnarled, asymmetrical shapes that look different from every angle.

jfk bullet 3D replicas
NIST

To replicate each miniscule mark, ridge, and divot, NIST physical scientists Thomas Brian Renegar and Mike Stocker spent hours rotating the artifacts beneath the microscope, capturing images from all perspectives, and then combining parts of the images to create full 3D versions of them.

“It was like solving a super-complicated 3D puzzle,” Renegar said in the release. “I’ve stared at them so much I can draw them from memory.”

Kennedy’s assassination on November 22, 1963, has generated no small number of conspiracy theories over the years, but NIST and the National Archives made it clear that the project to replicate the bullets was “strictly a matter of historic preservation,” and not in any way a reopening of the case. But once the complete 3D scans are made available in the National Archives’ online catalog in early 2020, members of the public are free to analyze them however they like.

“The virtual artifacts are as close as possible to the real things,” Martha Murphy, the National Archives’ deputy director of government information services, said in the release. “In some respects, they are better than the originals in that you can zoom in to see microscopic details.”

And while Kennedy’s case is closed, the cutting-edge technology used on his bullets will be used in the future.

“The techniques we developed to image those artifacts will be useful in criminal cases that involve similarly challenging evidence,” NIST forensic firearms expert Robert Thompson said in the release.

An Alaska Dentist Is Being Prosecuted for Riding a Hoverboard During a Tooth Extraction

LightFieldStudios/iStock via Getty Images
LightFieldStudios/iStock via Getty Images

In July 2016, an Alaskan dentist named Seth Lookhart extracted his patient’s tooth while standing on a hoverboard. After the procedure, he pulled off his gloves, glided down the hall, and threw his hands in the air in a show of (very misguided) triumph. He then texted a video of the whole affair to his friends and family, joking in at least one conversation that it was a “new standard of care.”

He’s getting prosecuted.

But it wasn’t the patient who took him to court—according to CNN, Veronica Wilhelm was sedated for the extraction, and she didn’t even know about the hoverboard incident until the state of Alaska asked her to confirm she was the patient in the video. Alaska charged [PDF] Lookhart with “unlawful dental acts,” claiming that riding a hoverboard during a procedure violates the minimum professional standards of dentistry.

Though Lookhart pleaded not guilty, his defense attorney, Paul Stockler, isn’t arguing that what his client did was fine. On the contrary, he asserted in court that Lookhart had made a “terrible lapse in judgment,” and even apologized to Wilhelm for it.

“It’s unacceptable and be assured that when I agreed to represent him, I got in his face and told him what I thought about him for doing this,” he said while cross-examining Wilhelm, according to KTUU.

Stockler maintains that however ill-advised Lookhart’s behavior may have been, it wasn’t criminal.

“Should he lose his dental license for a period of time, for forever? Is it a crime?” Stockler told CNN. “He’s not the first person to do something idiotic. I’ve seen things a lot worse and nobody’s ever had criminal charges filed against them. As the law is written, I don’t believe that’s a crime.”

It’s up to the court to decide if pulling a tooth on a hoverboard without getting permission from the patient does actually qualify as a crime. And according to KTUU, Wilhelm wouldn’t have given permission had she gotten the chance.

“I would’ve said ‘Hell no!’ No, that’s unprofessional. It’s crazy,” she said in court.

Even if Lookhart eludes conviction on this particular issue, he’s also facing more than 40 other charges. According to CNN, these include billing Medicaid for more than $25,000 in unnecessary or not properly justified procedures; engaging in a scheme to defraud Alaska Medicaid of $10,000; and diverting more than $25,000 in funds from Alaska Dental Arts.

Whatever the verdict, we should find out soon. The trial, which started on November 12, is expected to wrap up this week.

[h/t CNN]

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