John Gotti Jr

But back then, my mother would probably go every two or three months. We would go. She'd break the kids up. It was hard to take us all. So maybe I seen my father in the course of a year. I'd see him three times, maybe, possibly four.

But back then, my mother would probably go every two or three months. We would go. She'd break the kids up. It was hard to take us all. So maybe I seen my father in the course of a year. I'd see him three times, maybe, possibly four.

First eight years, we got one, four, five. I want to say in and out, I would say by the time I was, well, I say this, by the time I was 13, he had nine in. So first eight years, let's say five. But by the time I was 13, he had nine in.

First eight years, we got one, four, five. I want to say in and out, I would say by the time I was, well, I say this, by the time I was 13, he had nine in. So first eight years, let's say five. But by the time I was 13, he had nine in.

You know he's different. You know he's different. You know he's absolutely different. Look, I mean, he walked different. He talked different. And it was remarkable. Because I used to, as I got older, I would watch my father and I would be in amazement. We'll discuss that maybe a little bit later about the evolution of what he became.

You know he's different. You know he's different. You know he's absolutely different. Look, I mean, he walked different. He talked different. And it was remarkable. Because I used to, as I got older, I would watch my father and I would be in amazement. We'll discuss that maybe a little bit later about the evolution of what he became.

But at that point in my life, you look at him and you say to yourself, I know this much. I know I play Little League baseball, and I know my coach. I know my kids in the block, their fathers, who's a blue-collar worker, hard-working individual, whatever have you. I know how they've all comported themselves. Everybody spoke Brooklynese. We all similarly spoke. But John was different.

But at that point in my life, you look at him and you say to yourself, I know this much. I know I play Little League baseball, and I know my coach. I know my kids in the block, their fathers, who's a blue-collar worker, hard-working individual, whatever have you. I know how they've all comported themselves. Everybody spoke Brooklynese. We all similarly spoke. But John was different.

The first day he came home, when he came home from Lewisburg, he was different. Brown-Lincoln Continental. That's what he came home with, a chocolate Brown-Lincoln Continental. The car pulls down the block, pulls in his driveway. We live in a row of row houses, second off the corner, little green awning, simple house. And he gets out of the car.

The first day he came home, when he came home from Lewisburg, he was different. Brown-Lincoln Continental. That's what he came home with, a chocolate Brown-Lincoln Continental. The car pulls down the block, pulls in his driveway. We live in a row of row houses, second off the corner, little green awning, simple house. And he gets out of the car.

He's got a light brown mock neck, chocolate brown suit with a matching overcoat. And he gets out of the car with jet black hair. And I've described it in my book. It was Tony Curtis with muscles. He came out of the car, and he looked, and he just surveyed the area. He got out of the car. He shot his jacket. He fixed it, looked down. He saw it.

He's got a light brown mock neck, chocolate brown suit with a matching overcoat. And he gets out of the car with jet black hair. And I've described it in my book. It was Tony Curtis with muscles. He came out of the car, and he looked, and he just surveyed the area. He got out of the car. He shot his jacket. He fixed it, looked down. He saw it.

I waved to him, and he just walked like he owned the place. He never saw the house before because we moved there from South Brooklyn when he went to prison. So he found the house okay. He drove himself home, parked his car, saw me. walked up the stairs like he always was there, like he owned the place, literally, so to speak.

I waved to him, and he just walked like he owned the place. He never saw the house before because we moved there from South Brooklyn when he went to prison. So he found the house okay. He drove himself home, parked his car, saw me. walked up the stairs like he always was there, like he owned the place, literally, so to speak.

So in watching him and watching his mannerisms, watching how my mother deferred to him, look, he was different than my friend's fathers, that's for sure. That much I did know. So that starts, that's the foundation. And then as you get a little older also, Pat, you become more perceptive. Okay? People gossip and say, you know, your father's in prison. No, my father's not in prison.

So in watching him and watching his mannerisms, watching how my mother deferred to him, look, he was different than my friend's fathers, that's for sure. That much I did know. So that starts, that's the foundation. And then as you get a little older also, Pat, you become more perceptive. Okay? People gossip and say, you know, your father's in prison. No, my father's not in prison.

My father's in a military camp and he's in a construction aspect. They have to build things there. Oh, yeah? Okay. And then you evolve more and more and you become more and more.

My father's in a military camp and he's in a construction aspect. They have to build things there. Oh, yeah? Okay. And then you evolve more and more and you become more and more.

would probably say maybe it struck me as a little odd you know when i was eight years old at eight years old got it yeah yeah just kind of like a santa claus seven seven seven seven eight seven years old and eight i turned eight in february of 80 72 uh he came home in march right around that time you understand because he's coming home he's coming home he's coming home and you start putting the pieces of the puzzle together you know listen we don't give kids credit the

would probably say maybe it struck me as a little odd you know when i was eight years old at eight years old got it yeah yeah just kind of like a santa claus seven seven seven seven eight seven years old and eight i turned eight in february of 80 72 uh he came home in march right around that time you understand because he's coming home he's coming home he's coming home and you start putting the pieces of the puzzle together you know listen we don't give kids credit the