John Gotti Jr
speaker
615 appearances
1 recordings
1 series
first heard Dec 2024
last heard Dec 2024
John Gotti Jr’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
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Appearances
My father sent a cop to come get me at military school, and they came to my room. They told me that, put your service uniform on, and someone's coming to pick you up. Someone's coming to pick me up with my service uniform on. It didn't make any sense. We don't know anything else. So I had to go to my quarters, put my service uniform on, my white gloves, my hat, and I waited. I sat there and waited.
Car pulls up, and driving the car was a gentleman who did time with my father in Lewisburg. His name was Charlie Deak, Charlie Decanio, and another gentleman named Mark. He recently died in prison. They picked me up, got in the car. They wouldn't say anything. They wouldn't talk. They were very somber.
and like mark was sort of like holding back and crying so i'm saying something right here i'm not asking any questions i'm figuring maybe something happened to my father i don't know and then we get home i pull in front of the house they tell me wait here i see everybody by my house a lot of people there they both get out of the car and i'm in the car by myself now the back seat wait here i can't get out and go in my own car my own house
And I'm sitting there, and I'm sitting there, and I'm fidgeting in the car, and I'm saying, well, once I see my father walk out, I went, whew, he's okay. What could this be all about? Never hit me. And he takes me out of the car, takes me for a walk. He says, you know, your brother's gone.
Yeah, he did.
Yeah. It was... You know, you sort of think to yourself. You say, maybe if I didn't go away to school and I was here, it wouldn't have happened. So for several years, I beat myself up over that. But... I know my father most certainly beat himself up over it. And he would never show that emotion. My father was a true soldier. He sat for three days. We had Frankie's wake for three days.
Three days, he postured by that coffin, and he greeted people from all over. They came from Buffalo, Pennsylvania. They came from all over. And he'd greet everybody, and he'd walk them over and show them his son, brush his hair back, and he kept it all together. I couldn't keep it together. Oh, my God, no way. I couldn't keep it together.
But when he had his own quiet time, when he had his own time, that's when he would mourn. You'd hear him at night. He'd mourn.
No, never one time. He wouldn't show me that weakness. He wouldn't show anybody that weakness. He wouldn't do it. He just wouldn't do it. He would do it. My bedroom was attached to his den. So the vent was right there. It was a thin wall that's attached. So where my bed was, there was a vent to the right side of my bed, and that's where the couches were, and there was a fireplace in his den.
And I would hear him. I'd hear my father. He would mourn on his own terms to himself.
You know, he was a strong guy. It changed my mother forever. She's still not well today. She's still not right today. I mean, she often drifts back to Frankie Boy all the time. She's still in the same house. She won't change his room. She's never going to move on. I ask her, you know, Ma, move out to the island with us. Get rid of the house. Stay with us. No, no, no, no.
She says, my son's in this house. I still hear my husband come up the stairs at night. Wow. I'm staying here. This is my house.
Still the same. So my mother, it had this profound effect on her that she never recovered from. She's still, you know, Frankie's dead 44 years, and she never recovered from it. She never recovered from it. But my father, you know, he was a soldier. When we had the opportunity, when he was in Marion, Illinois, which was the only level six prison in the country, when he was in deadlock,
We weren't allowed to touch. So we had a plexiglass between us. You had to pick up a phone to talk. That's your visit. So for seven and a half years, that's how I visited my father. And he'd come down and he'd be shackled up and unchained and put in this locked area. And then he'd pick up the phone and we would talk. That's how...
And at times, he would drift back and talk about Frankie Boy, and you'd see. That's when his eyes would change, his facial expressions would change. But he was a soldier. He was a tough guy. He kept it right here. He knew exactly how to control his emotions. And he had the same expectation from me. And back then, I couldn't do it. And still now, talking about it, I get emotional.
My brother and I, we shared the same bed. So I still can't. I'm not him. But he had that ability. He had that ability.
There were stories that the guy was drunk. I don't know. I mean, again, I'm limited in my knowledge and what I would want to look at. I did know this. They lived around the corner. I was friends with his son. I liked the family. I did. So two families got torn apart. He ended up missing sometime later.
And I don't know all those particulars, but if we would say that Frankie's death would sort of make my father into a different character, or as you say, there's a rage aspect there. Let me tell you about John Gotti. This is who he was. John Gotti was a guy that, when he loved you, he loved you to a fault.
He used to say it all the time, John, you know me, I have a tough time showing people the door, John, even when they're wrong, okay? He loved you, he loved you to a fault. However, if you got on his wrong side, you had a problem, and if you hurt anybody close to John that he loved, there was no way he wasn't going to hurt you. It's just the way he was. That's it. That's the way he felt.
Is it possible? Yeah. Do I know? If you were to show me irrefutable proof right now, you would show me that. Would I go, oh my God. Oh my God. No. You know what I would say? Okay.
Showing 121–140 of 615 · page 7 of 31
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