January 27-February 2, 2005
city beat
Ralph's Mouth Silenced
Photo By: Erick Regan |
A former mob boss-turned-stoolie goes away for a spell.
Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to bid farewell to 69-year-old Ralph Natale. Con man. Arsonist. Drug pusher. Racketeer. Mobster. Informant.
In the third-floor courtroom of the federal courthouse in Camden on a depressingly gray, bitter-cold day, Natale would vanish from the underworld stage forever into the protective cocoon of a witness-security cellblock where he will live in relative obscurity for six to eight years. If he survives, he'll re-emerge into a world that will have long forgotten his bumbling four-year stewardship of a second-string Italian-American organized-crime family.
Most of his younger and tougher enemies will be out of prison. In addition to corrupt politicians and their friends, his testimony sent 11 mobsters to the big house, including his one-time underboss and ally, Joey Merlino. Should Natale decide to return to the area, the Merlino crew will be prowling the streets of South Philly and South Jersey, more cunning from their stretch in jail and with the greatest thirst for vengeance against their former boss-turned-snitch.
Perhaps his wife, Lucy, will wait patiently for his return, just as she waited patiently in a courtroom gallery with most of her grown children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The relatives were dressed in their Sunday best as they intently listened to U.S. District Judge Joseph B. Irenas prepare to render his sentence. Also in court were the FBI agents and assistant U.S. attorneys who welcomed Natale to Team America after he was saved by his confessions of murder, drug dealing and other brutalities. One former FBI supervisor, Jim Maher, told the judge he first arrested Natale in 1979. In June 1998, Natale admitted that he had squandered his life in the La Cosa Nostra and wanted to flip.
"It was an enormous event that Natale was the first sitting mob boss to cooperate with the government," said Maher. "It just undermines the very existence of La Cosa Nostra."
The judge jabbered on about Natale being both a heinous criminal and useful witness. As such, the government said Natale should not receive a life term. But there were other interested parties seated among the Natale family, press and law enforcement. There was Ruthann Seccio, resplendent in her last appearance in the public spotlight. Her hair was dyed bright blond, and she wore a full-length black mink coat, short skirt, black stockings and heels. Natale's mistress for four years when he ran the Philly crime family, Seccio was there to lock eyes with her old lover and search for meaning in his look. During four hours in court, Natale looked directly at her twice. Both times, he immediately looked away and nodded or waved to his wife and kids, as if to say he didn't know what she was doing here, either.
Just a few feet from Seccio sat two bottle-blond, middle-aged women in jeans and jackets. They were the daughters of Louis "Louie Irish" DeLuca, a gambler and mob associate who was shot in his car in South Philly in 1990 on Natale's orders. For a moment, there was a whisper fight as one of DeLuca daughter's, glaring at Seccio, said she didn't want to sit in Natale's cheering section. Seccio said she's no cheerleader, that she's just looking for answers. When Alysia DeLuca Forman, a beautiful 30-something mom, told the court about how Natale's hit men stole her father from their lives, Seccio cried and passed a tissue to Alysia's sister, Michele, who wept silently.
Natale stood to state his case for a light sentence. He was far from the braggart wise guy he once played in the restaurants, bars and clubhouses of South Jersey and Philly. He is bald with a gray goatee and wore prison-issued tan khakis and white sneakers.
"I was no choir boy, I was bad out there," Natale admitted. "I feel shame and remorse for what I've done."
He said he has a few winters left and would like to spend them with family. Seccio looked stunned as Natale proclaimed his newfound love for his wife and children. She said she is not waiting for Natale anymore and plans to be married with kids long before he gets out. Still, she wanted to talk to Natale to find out why he never called her after he became a federal witness.
After all the testimony, the judge finally told Natale he'll get 13 years in prison, but he has five years of credit for time served.
Federal marshals cleared the courtroom, and Natale was allowed to see his family for a few minutes. He hugged and kissed his wife and children and embraced a teenage grandson with jet-black hair and dark brown skin. The grandson looked exactly like a young version of Merlino. So, the last faces Natale saw were of family and a reflection of former friend he betrayed.
Hell To Pay
The same day Natale disappeared into witness protection to finish his sentence, the Hells Angels buried the vice president of their Philly chapter, Tom "Tinker" Wood, who was gunned down on Jan. 14 while riding home from a South Philly strip club. Police tell City Paper they think the shooter is a member of the Pagan biker gang who lives in Delaware County.
Members of the Hells Angels have told Philadelphia police not to hurry to find the gunman. "We'll take care of this ourselves," one Hells Angel allegedly told police.
Underworld sources say leaders of other Hells Angels chapters in New York are furious that the Philly Hells Angels took so long to respond to the Pagans when they attacked a Hells Angel on New Year's Eve in a South Jersey parking lot. They're also angry that another Philly Hells Angel spent five hours at police headquarters the day after the Wood slaying.
"We don't talk to the cops. Ever," one Hells Angel says. "What the fuck was he doing talking to cops for five hours?"
Word on the street is that other chapter presidents think the Philly Angels chapter hasn't handled the ongoing war with the Pagans very well, and they plan to send their own gunmen to take care of the Pagans. And maybe even clean house in their own club.