Surviving the Mob - Dennis Griffin [79]
“One night around Christmas we were sitting in a cell talking. He said, ‘Look at us. We’re sittin’ here in jail like two idiots. Our friends are out drinkin’ and laughin’ and havin’ a good time. But they don’t realize that their lives are on oxygen tanks too.’
“Then he pointed out the window toward the courthouse and said, ‘Do you see that building across the street with the offices all lit up? They’re working over there around the clock to put you, me, and our friends away forever. Our friends go to sleep, but those guys never do. They’re always out there buildin’ their cases. So while our friends are celebratin’ Christmas, right in one of those rooms somebody’s signing their indictments. The government has too much money and too many people. We can never win this war.’
“He was right and me and him knew it. But there were a lot of guys still in the life that didn’t.”
19
Tremors
In 1998, Andrew came to realize that his decision to become a government witness was a bed of thorns, just as Michael Callahan had predicted. Although he was comfortable with providing information against Nicky Corozzo, Mike Yannotti, and others, he would also be required to share what he knew about those he considered to be friends, such as the bank-robbery crew. And even his mother wasn’t completely supportive.
He also knew that when his information bore fruit and indictments and arrests became public, his role would be exposed. That would likely be followed by having to face his former associates in a courtroom. This was not a pleasant prospect. But the alternative was worse. So, in spite of those drawbacks, Andrew honored his agreement with the government.
Besides, as Andrew reflected on his life and on organized crime in general during his sessions with prosecutors, he experienced a true appreciation for how that life had affected him, his family, friends, enemies, and victims. When looking at the total picture, he was stunned by the havoc he and his associates had wreaked. Many people had been hurt who didn’t deserve to be hurt. Several were dead who didn’t have to die. His decision to cooperate became more than just a means of survival for him. It also presented an opportunity to atone for his own actions and perhaps help him to move on in a positive direction after his deal with the government had been fulfilled.
“Living up to my end of the bargain with the government wasn’t always easy,” Andrew recalls, “especially at the beginning, before I came to grips with what a bad person I’d been. But during my many hours talking with prosecutors, I had to relive my life all the way back to my teens. Crime by crime, I had to tell them what I’d done, who with, and why. Who I’d tried to kill and who I’d wanted to kill. The robberies, larcenies, frauds, drug deals—on and on. And I had to tell them about things I hadn’t done personally and had only heard about.
“As I put it all out there, I was shocked by my own admissions. The things I’d done hadn’t seemed so bad when I was doin’ them; they’d seemed natural to me. I was a tough guy and a gangster and those things were what guys like me did. And I’d done them without givin’ it a second thought. But looking back at them in their totality, it was hard to believe I was talking about myself. The picture I painted was that all my adult life, I’d looked for ways to take advantage of somebody from the time I got up until I went to bed. I tried to tell myself that I really hadn’t been that bad. But the evidence was overwhelming. I was thirty-two years old and I’d been a real bastard for half of that time.
“And when I was being honest with myself, I couldn’t even blame it on my environment. It contributed, sure. But I knew right from wrong. Nicky didn’t hold a gun to my head and tell me to commit crimes for him. It was my reputation as a thief and tough kid that brought me to his