The Day Big Paul Castellano Got Whacked!

Paul Castellano was late. The rush hour traffic in midtown Manhattan was dense, and Paul's driver/bodyguard, Tommy Bilotti, was trying his best to navigate his way through the thick Manhattan congestion. There was a dinner meeting at Sparks Steakhouse, a popular, ritzy, and urbane eatery that was one of Paul's favored dining establishments, and Paul Castellano was to be the favored guest. There was business to discuss and matters to attend to, and what better way to conduct business than over a nice steak dinner at Sparks. In his earlier years, Paul had been a butcher, and he knew quality meats. And he knew that Sparks served only the finest cuts. It was the middle of the Christmas Holiday Season, and the streets were teeming with happy shoppers, carolers, and the feelings of good will amongst men. Paul Castellano was happy as well. He had just left a fancy department store where he had picked up some last minute Christmas gifts, and he was looking forward to enjoying the holiday season.

It had been a tumultuous year for Big Paul and his family. As the boss of the Gambino Crime Family, the largest and most influential organized crime family in the United States, Paul had been indicted earlier in the year on charges that he had profited from, and endorsed, a car theft ring masterminded by one his closest criminal associates, a ring that stole cars in New York and surrounding areas and, after stripping them of their serial numbers, shipped them overseas to Kuwait; an enterprise that netted $5,000 dollars per car. Allegedly, Paul's weekly take from the operation was said to be $20,000 dollars. Then, if that wasn't headache enough, Paul was indicted again in the "Commission" case, a broad, sweeping prosecution implemented by then-U.S Attorney Rudy Giulliani, that was aimed at the leaders of New York's five organized crime families, referred collectively to as the Commission. As the leader of the Gambino Crime Family, Paul was charged with an assortment of crimes: racketeering, murder, tax evasion, and restraint of trade. At seventy-years old, Paul was looking at the prospect of possibly spending the rest of his life behind bars if convicted in either case. Yes, Paul Castellano had a lot on his mind, and he was looking forward to his dinner meeting at Sparks; a dinner that was to be attended by his closest associates and confidantes.

Finally, a few minutes before 6:00 P.M on the evening of December 15th, 1985, Paul Castellano's dark Lincoln Town car emerged from the crush of vehicles and approached Sparks Steakhouse. Unable to find a suitable parking spot, Paul's trusted driver/bodyguard, Tommy Bilotti, who somehow managed to obtain a Policeman's Benevolent Associaton Parking Placard, pulled up to the front of Spark's Steakhouse and parked along the curb in a no parking zone. Castellano, sitting in the rear of the Lincoln - a position that befitted a man of his standing - was anxiously awaiting his dinner date. He was about thirty-minutes late, thanks to the Manhattan traffic, and he didn't want to waste anymore time. Instead of waiting for Bilotti to exit the car and then walk around and open Paul's door, Paul opened his own door and started to exit the car. At that instant, a fusillade broke out; a man in a long overcoat and hat approached Paul Castellano and started firing. Hit in the chest and head, Castellano fell against the open door of the Lincoln. A startled Tommy Bilotti, who by this time had exited his vehicle and was crouched down and peering through the car windows, watched helplessly as he saw his boss wilt to the ground. Just then, another man, dressed in the same type and color of overcoat and hat as the shooter who fell Big Paul, descended upon Tommy Bilotti and shot him dead; Bilotti fell, with arms outstretched, flat on his back in the center of the Manhattan street. It was utter chaos!

Terrified and startled citizens, many of whom were tourists and people doing their Christmas shopping, ran for cover; many dove behind cars, many took shelter in nearby stores, and many just panicked and ran. A few, overtaken by the sudden eruption of such a violent act in a posh and upscale neighborhood, simply stood with their mouths agape, unable to move, in a state of shock as to the unfolding events. The entire incident lasted perhaps twenty-seconds at the most, and the shooters, after finishing their prey, ran down the street and disappeared into the night. Terrified patrons of Sparks Steakhouse ran outside to see what the commotion was about; horrified to see the grisly scene that was before them. As police and other law enforcement officials descended upon the scene, and as the blazing of sirens from approaching ambulances and fire engines filled the air, Paul Castellano and his trusted ally, Tommy Bilotti, lay in grotesque display, bloody monuments to the perilous ends that can befall even the top echelons of an organized crime family. And Paul Castellano was boss no more!