Mr. Armando “Mondo” Fosco Sr.

Posted on 27. Feb, 2011 by Joseph Fosco in History, Organized Crime

I have been writing articles for over three years. On a number of occasions readers have asked me to pen something on my late father. Others have asked me to display a photo of him. Today, I decided to do both.

Before you begin reading the story below, please know in advance that I have omitted a great number of names of various family members and dear friends in order to respect their privacy and/or the privacy of their loved ones.

In the early 1900s, my paternal grandparents owned a farm in Kenosha, Wisconsin, and a three flat apartment building in Chicago, located in the now famous American-Italian neighborhood that surrounds Taylor Street. My father was the youngest of five children. He was born in Chicago, Illinois, on July 13, 1922. Until age 6, he lived with his parents and one of his brothers on the farm in Kenosha. Three of his siblings were much older than he was and had been living on their own. My grandfather made moonshine in Kenosha and ran it into Chicago numerous times during the week, which meant that he was not home much.

My grandmother was a tough woman and looked after her two youngest sons without her husband’s fulltime presence, despite living on a great deal of land out in the country with hardly anyone close by to count on in an emergency. Certainly, her older sons and daughter were capable of visiting her and helping while my grandfather was running moonshine, but everyone seemed to know that she was perfectly fine on her own. My father recalled an evening when my grandfather was not home and they heard the noise of a prowler coming from the barn out back. According to the story, his mother grabbed her double barrel shotgun and filled her apron pocket with a handful of shells before stepping out onto the rear porch and firing a couple of rounds into the barn. The unsuspecting criminal ran for cover, never to return.

An automobile accident in 1929 forever changed the dynamics of my father’s immediate family. My paternal grandfather died in the accident. Soon after, the lack of good work ethic of my two oldest uncles had foisted financial hardship onto the family. This ultimately caused the farm and apartment building to be swallowed up by the bank. By age 7, my father and one of his brothers were moved into an apartment with their mother. The apartment was located by Taylor Street, near where they previously owned their own apartment building.

Armando Fosco in late 1940s.

My father went to work at age 15 shoveling coal. By the early 1940s, the rest of his brothers went off to prison, mostly for armed robbery. At this point in time, he married into the Nappi family. The interesting thing about the Nappi family was their intimate connections to a handful of high-ranking Chicago gangsters such as the Capones, Paul Ricca and Sam “Teets” Battaglia.

In 1943, my father was inducted into the U.S. Navy to fight in World War II. Several months later he went AWOL. He never returned to duty.

While on the lamb from the Navy, my father worked for Teets. Shortly after the war ended, he turned himself in to the authorities and dealt with the serious charge of desertion. He was facing 20-years in prison for his crime, though this could be considered a light sentence as some were executed for deserting during the war. Luckily for him, the vast connections of the men he had been working for were able to reach the Truman Administration. Ultimately he would only serve approximately 18-months in prison.

My father served time in a Navy and Marine Corps penitentiary on Seavey’s Island, Maine, named Portsmouth Naval Prison, also known as the “Alcatraz of the East.” He was released in the late 1940s whereupon he returned to Chicago.

Armando Fosco in the mid 1950s

Once back in the Windy City, my father took up a job for Nash Construction, while maintaining his professional association with Teets working for extra money. By the mid 1950s, he was working for Teets on a fulltime basis. Out of a number of young men that married into the Nappi Family, my father was the only family member that worked for Teets. His brother-in-law and close friend, Romie Nappi, worked under Paul Ricca at that time. As a side note, Romie Nappi was closely affiliated to the infamous Jack Ruby.

Through Romie Nappi, my father had enormous exposure to Paul Ricca. Many years ago, Paul Ricca taught my father a number of different lessons; however, one of the lessons was on taking things for granted. Paul explained that if someone salts their food before tasting their meal, it would likely mean the person would take larger situations for granted. I realize that some of you might view this example as confusing, but please understand that Paul Ricca proved to be a very methodical individual. My father respected Paul so much that he named one of his sons after him as a tribute to the late Paul Ricca. 

The 1960s was my father’s heyday. In this decade he would make enough money to live comfortable for the rest of his life. He had a piece of ownership in a dozen different businesses during this time frame. Among those businesses are:

-Sam’s Coffee Service & Catering Company
-Meals on Wheels Catering Truck Company
-El Morocco Nightclub (bootleg gambling parlor)
-Golden Hour Nightclub (bootleg gambling parlor)
-Franklin Coin Shop (while he became a coin dealer in the 1960s, he would open this retail location in the early 1970s)

By the early 1970s, my father was retired from everything but coins, which is when he officially opened a small location for his coin-dealing venture in his hometown of Oak Park, Illinois, right next to the famous Onion Roll Restaurant. The early 1970s marked the beginning of true happiness for my father, for many reasons, which I will keep private. However, his semi-retirement became compromised when he was persuaded to get involved in a Teamster Local in Chicago.

The Outfits top bosses asked Romie Nappi, their successor to Murray “The Hump” Humphreys (late political & union advisor), to find someone to takeover a Teamster Local from a union leader who was running it without the consent of the Chicago Outfit. When Romie told the Outfit bosses that “Mondo” Fosco was his selection for the top job of secretary-treasurer, the decision was quickly approved. Please be advised that my father was first appointed as a trustee of the Teamster Local prior to taking the top spot.

As a side note, the mentally-frustrated Jack Cerone, Esquire, falsely claims that he controlled the union takeover that I am describing. While I am sure that the few loyal nitwits who still foolishly pay homage to Jack would believe him, I am also sure that anyone truly knowledgeable on the matter would immediately dismiss his false claim.

Armando Fosco with his youngest son in the early 1980s.

Unfortunately, soon after my father began his new career as a union official for the Teamsters, his 1940s felony conviction for ‘desertion’ came back to haunt him. He was abruptly ousted from the Teamsters. Rival Outfit factions with serious clout quickly saw this as an opportunity to get their own agent in as secretary-treasurer of the Teamster Local. However, my father’s connections once again came through. Within a number of months of being ousted from the Teamsters, someone in the Nixon/Ford Administration had his federal criminal record destroyed. No longer having a criminal record, he was immediately reappointed to his former union position.

When my father finally accomplished the goal of taking over the Teamster Local, he would only ghost payroll one of his many clout heavy employees. That employee was Paul Marcy, brother of Chicago First Ward power broker Pat Marcy. Pat Marcy and my father were as close as two loving brothers.

The Teamster Local that my father controlled had represented warehouse employees and miscellaneous drivers for many of the world’s largest grocery and candy companies. In other words, he provided a new avenue for the Outfit to reach many high-powered corporate executives, which is exactly how the Outfit had acquired a significant degree of influence in legitimate industries over the last several decades throughout America.

Future ANP Publisher keeping his father's chair warm.

I remember my father’s first week on the job as secretary-treasurer. He brought my younger brother and I to his office on a Saturday morning to get some things organized. All of a sudden, a handful of disgruntled union members came banging on his door demanding to see the new boss. My father opened the door and asked the members to have a seat. They seemed surprised to be allowed in the office. My father asked them how they like their coffee, which caused one of them to say, “enough of that coffee stuff, where is the boss, we want to see him.” My father informed them that he was the new boss. They could not believe it. The members asked why he would pour them coffee if he were the boss. He explained, “Because you pay my salary, now how can I help you fellows.” Union leaders like my father, who worked endlessly helping hard workers, are the people that made a difference in the unions.

Armando Fosco III in early 1980s.

On February 5, 1987, my father passed away from complications stemming from bladder cancer. In my opinion, his unfortunate diagnosis with cancer was likely caused by the stresses from the pain of suffering the loss of his beloved grandson, Armando “Mondie” Fosco, III. Armando passed away suddenly in August of 1983 at the age of 14. I am confident that “Mondie” is one of God’s angels today.

Until his death, my father still held his office as a Secretary-Treasurer for the International Brotherhood of Teamsters. He was the last successful leader that his Teamster Local would ever have. Every leader after him lost their job for several acts of wrongdoing. Today the Local no longer exists because of the misdeeds of my father’s successors.

In 2001, Romie Nappi passed away and he was entombed right by my father.

Authors note:

Despite the way my father took over his Teamster Local, his membership elected him years after he was initially appointed to the office.

I am disappointed by my fathers decision not to fight for his country through the end of World War II. The knowledge of his poor decision has certainly taught me that no one is perfect, but we can try to live lives that exemplify our good attributes.

Lastly, please know that my father was a great dad and he treated my family very well. I love him and miss him immensely.

Please also read these associated articles: Helen Vorhees Brach Murdered Over Outfit Greed and Joe “Shine” Amabile And Mondo Fosco

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