Vincent ‘The Chin’ Gigante, 77; Mob Chief Faked Mental Illness in Bid to Avoid Prison
LA Times
Vincent “The Chin” Gigante, the powerful New York mob boss who avoided prison for decades by wandering Greenwich Village’s streets in a ratty bathrobe and slippers as part of an elaborate feigned mental illness, died Monday in prison, federal officials said. He was 77.
Gigante died at the U.S. Medical Center for federal prisoners in Springfield, Mo., prison spokesman Al Quintero said. The cause of death was not immediately known, but Quintero said Gigante had a history of heart disease.
Dubbed “The Oddfather” for his bizarre behavior, the former Genovese crime family head, an ex-boxer whose lengthy string of victories over prosecutors ended with a July 1997 racketeering conviction, finally admitted his insanity ruse at an April 2003 hearing.
After nearly a quarter-century of public craziness, Gigante calmly pleaded guilty to obstruction of justice for his deception. He then chatted amiably with his son, shook hands with defense lawyers and even laughed at one point.
“God bless you,” he told U.S. District Judge I. Leo Glasser, offering a broad wave goodbye before leaving the Brooklyn courtroom. Gigante was jailed in the medical ward at the federal prison in Springfield — the same facility where rival mob boss John Gotti died.
Denying that he was a gangster, Gigante wandered the streets of Greenwich Village in nightclothes, muttering incoherently. Relatives, including a brother who is a Roman Catholic priest, insisted Gigante suffered from paranoid schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s disease.
Authorities charged that it was a brazen act to avoid the law — although it wasn’t until 1997 that a jury agreed, and it took six years for Gigante to concede his subterfuge. At the height of his power, Gigante’s empire stretched from the booths at Little Italy’s San Gennaro Festival to the docks of Miami.
“The ‘Looney Tunes’ act served Gigante well — it kept him out of prison for 30 years — but in the end he was the victim of his own crazy act. He never had a chance to enjoy the fruits of his plunder, and he told some people that, if given the chance, he wouldn’t do it that way again,” said Jerry Capeci, a Mafia expert and author of six books on organized crime.
For the man described by the New York Times Magazine as “the last great Mafioso of the century,” his admission was the final act in a 50-year career embracing the era of old-time “Mustache Petes” and the modern Mafia of Gotti.
Gigante looked the part, a stocky figure with a pugilist’s face and 1940s pompadour. Mob experts called him a traditional boss, trusted by others, who settled issues by whatever means — verbal or violent — were required.
His fall from power was sealed in a Brooklyn courtroom where a parade of six turncoat mobsters, led by ex-Gotti under-boss Salvatore “Sammy the Bull” Gravano, described Gigante’s power in the Genovese clan and the Commission, organized crime’s ruling directorate.
