1) My standard preamble when reviewing cemeteries--- My hobby is visiting historic cemeteries, but I'm always aware that these are holy places where people come to mourn and remember. Despite the perhaps unusual nature of my hobby, I never lose sight of this when visiting.
2) My preamble when it comes to this specific cemetery-- I'm interested in all history, but I'm especially interested in organized crime history. I don't admire mobsters but I think they're an often fascinating and integral part of any serious examination of the history of any urban area or city in 20th century America. Also, "The Godfather" is one of my favorite movies.
Given that, it's perhaps not surprising that this was one of the first historic cemeteries I visited way back when. Colloquially known as "the Mafia's Boot Hill," it's the last resting place for a Who's Who of NY organized crime figures. Comprised of 190 acres in the Middle Village border area of Queens-Brooklyn, St. John's is split down the center by Metropolitan Avenue. It's a peaceful, pleasant cemetery, if not especially beautiful.
During my visits to the cemetery, I've always proceeded with some caution. Out of respect, but also because I had read in a book that cemetery management will give you "the bum's rush" if they see you with a camera. That never happened to me, but...I proceeded with caution.
The newer section is the less interesting one. As you enter, the surprisingly ornate monument to Murder Inc. killer Harry "Happy" Maione is to the right (his partner-in-crime, Frank "Dasher" Abbandando, who accompanied him to the electric chair, is buried across the street). Down the road are the more prosaic monuments of Joseph Colombo (the Mafia boss who claimed the Mafia was anti-Italian propaganda) and deadly Carmine Galante.
The older section is of more interest. Down the road from the entrance is the stately mausoleum of the George Washington of organized crime, Salvatore Lucania aka Charles "Lucky" Luciano. In the middle of this section of the cemetery is the Cloister Mausoleum, which is quite impressive, and stands 6 stories (I think). On the other side of that is the personal mausoleum of Mafia boss Joe Profaci (like other predatory businessmen in history, he was supposedly very religious). Down the road is the angel-adorned monument of Vito Genovese. Across the road from that is the very plain monument for "Murder Machine" killer Roy DeMeo (his simple stone has the name "DeMeo" on it, hidden by a large bush).
Inside the Cloister Mausoleum, Carlo Gambino has his own private niche on the 5th or 6th floor. The big draw there these days is the "Dapper Don" himself, John Gotti, who is buried a floor or 2 below Don Carlo.
At their worst, the mobsters of yesteryear were malignant businessmen without even a vestigial conscience. I was always more interested in those like Frank Costello, or Carlo Gambino, who were often very smart, prescient in the ways of making illicit money, personally colorful, and even...occasionally..."classy."
John Gotti, in my opinion, embodied none of those qualities (to me, he was a murderous media clown, a charismatic thug with a room temperature IQ and a propensity for the stylish clothes his drug money bought), but...out of curiosity...I did seek out his tomb. It's actually pretty tasteful and sedate, but when I first went there, a group of young men were milling about the grave, looking like religious pilgrims to a holy shrine. I left them there to perform their bizarre form of obeisance. If I didn't know better, I might have mistaken them for youthful zealots visiting Lourdes for its spiritual energy.
A few years later, a friend of mine wanted to visit, more interested in Gotti than I ever was. I was agreeable, but I said, "We have to go early; NY cemeteries close early." I wanted to emphasize this to him, as he had his drug-alcohol problems, and "early" for him meant 12 noon (he has since sobered up). Needless to say, we got there late. The Gotti acolytes, thankfully, weren't around. My friend casually began snapping pictures. I told him to hurry up. He regarded me with contempt, saying, "What are they going to do? Lock us in for the night?" At that exact moment, all the lights were turned off-- everything went black.
Neither one of us were, or are, superstitious. Still, the thought of being locked in all night in the pitch darkness with the shades of Gotti and Gambino for company was not one we were comfortable with. Simultaneously, in utter blackness, we raced down 4 or 5 flights of stairs...miraculously not falling and smashing our skulls open...until we were able to push our way through the doors outside to the fresh air and dwindling sunlight.
It's not the most beautiful or historic cemetery...to me anyway...but if you have family or friends buried here, it does provide an excellent environment to mourn, remember, and reflect, and perhaps to indulge in the hope that those departed have gone to a better place. read more