For this answer, we turned to R-J columnist and Huntington Press author John L. Smith, who's been covering the Vegas mob scnene up close and personal for some decades now, and chose to profile one of the few living mobsters in the so-called "Black Book."
Frank Citro never looked so dapper as the day in November 1991 that he set foot in his Black Book hearing before the Nevada Gaming Control Board. Citro had long since become a notorious name in law enforcement circles.
But on the day of his hearing to plead his case why he shouldn’t be included on the state’s "List of Excluded Persons," those characters deemed so unsavory that they are banned from setting foot on casino property, Citro donned a black tuxedo and sported a fresh haircut. He appeared dressed for the Tough Guys Senior Prom.
"I've never been invited to join anything in my life," Citro said. "I just wanted to show the proper respect."
From Citro’s Gaming Control Board Black Book listing: "In 1986 Citro was convicted, along with several other organized crime figures, of racketeering and other federal offenses centered around a large scale loansharking and illegal bookmaking operation. He also has five additional felony convictions."
What the GCB didn’t mention about that extortion case is this: Key witnesses had a helluva time getting to trial. If memory serves, one died in a single-vehicle rollover far from eyewitnesses.
Born Nov. 9, 1945, Citro was placed on the list in November 1991.
You might think that would send a message to a guy that perhaps it was time to leave Las Vegas, but Citro stayed. He has worked occasionally in the movies as a bit actor. (His scene in Martin Scorsese’s Casino wound up on the cutting room floor.) And lately he has been placing short "movies" on the Internet.
For a time he worked as a limousine driver for the popular Casa di Amore restaurant, and he also was a host at Capozzolli’s restaurant (which has since burned down, twice). Most recently he has been spotted producing a "senior prom" for older folks at a local mobile home park with a program that included live music and dancing.
Who knows, maybe it gave him a place to wear that tuxedo.
An LVA staffer, who coincidentally almost filmed Frankie for a documentary (Discovery Channel requested a character "like Robert De Niro in Casino" and then balked at any association with a real-life mobster -- go figure), has some personal insights to share, too.
I first met Frankie some eight-plus years ago, having tracked him down via the Italian American Club which, along with Wax Trax records, was one of his regular haunts. He was eating lunch -- spaghetti and meatballs, of course -- and dressed in a white tracksuit, open at the collar to reveal plenty of chest hair and some gold bling.
He was keen to tell his story but, as above, Discovery Channel got cold feet at the thought of filming a real mobster, so in the end it all came to nothing. Not before Frankie and I had spent some interesting meals together, however, including the time I took him for Chinese. He explained that he couldn't eat spicy food on account of having no gall bladder, and then proceeded to tell me in graphic detail how he lost it (let's just say the other guy came away from the situation missing more than a gall bladder). When I reached to pick up the check, his eyes widened and he explained, "No broad has ever offered to pick up the tab for anything around me."
I saw Frankie a few more times after that, including one Halloween when he insisted I stop by Cappozzolli's to see his costume. He was working the door and dressed as boxing promoter Don King and all I can say is, I sorely wish I'd had my camera with me.
It's been a good few years since I saw or heard from Frank Citro, but I'll always remember fondly the times we hung out. I can't comment on his history and what dark deeds he may have been involved in, but he is certainly a colorful and amusing character, and one of this town's survivors.
This is the first of several mob-related QoDs we'll be running this week; tune in tomorrow for another from John L. Smith.
