The story below is another
chapter in my work in progress crime novel about Cosa Nostra from South Philly to Sicily.
The story originally appeared
in American Crime Magazine.
The Moonlighter
By Paul Davis
For this weekly interview
session with former Philadelphia Cosa Nostra capo and government
cooperator Salvatore Stilitano, I asked him to meet me at 13th and
Oregon Avenue in South Philadelphia.
I had been meeting Stillitano
each week and running our conversations in my crime column in the local paper.
The idea was to later compile the columns into a book.
I stood on the corner of 13th
and Oregon Avenue and looked across Oregon Avenue at the park where we played
basketball, baseball and football when I was a teenager. I remember the many
nights I stood here on the corner as a teenager in front of a luncheonette
where we hung out nearly every night in the late 1960s.
I recalled how my crowd stood
on the corner, sometimes with beer and pot and sometimes with a bunch of young
girls we called “crews.” We were known as a party corner.
I saw Stillitano park his car
next to the park and watched him walk across the four-lane avenue to meet me.
It was Stillitano’s idea that we do a “walk & talk,” like the old Cosa
Nostra members did to avoid law enforcement surveillance bugs in the
clubhouses.
Although Stillitano and I
were about the same age – two old South Philly street guys, one an old mobster
and the other an old reporter -- I did not know him from the old days. But
Stillitano told me that he knew several of my good friends from 13th
& Oregon. He said he stopped here to visit those friends on several
occasions during the late 1960s.
Stillitano pulled out two
Cohiba cigars, cut the ends off, handed me one and lit mine then his own. We
walked over to 2600 S. Iseminger Street, a nice street of rowhouses where I
lived until I joined the U.S. Navy when I was 17 in 1970.
Then, while smoking our fine
cigars, we turned off Iseminger and turned left on Shunk street and walked to
13th Street. I wanted to see the site where my old bar, the Moonlighter,
was located in the early 1970s.
When I returned home from the
Navy in 1972 after serving on an aircraft carrier during the Vietnam War, I
discovered that my crowd had moved exactly one block north from the luncheonette
on 13th & Oregon to the bar on 13th & Shunk.
Stillitano, who had surprised
me by telling me we had teenage friends in common, surprised me again by
stating that he too was a regular at the Moonlighter. Stillitano by his own
admission, said he was a loud and aggressive young man, so I wondered how I
missed meeting him back then.
The Moonlighter was owned and managed by Albert “Al Tuna” Galli, a big and heavy 50-year-old Cosa Nostra
associate. Galli was a pleasant man until angered by a customer. He was
originally from Altoona, Pennsylvania, hence his nickname, and he moved to
South Philly in the early 1960s.
His partner was Gene Urban,
an experienced businessman in the bar and music industry from the Fishtown
section of Philadelphia. He looked different from the South Philly crowd in
this predominantly Italian American neighborhood. With his long and thin blonde
hair and droopy mustache, he looked like one of the Allman Brothers, a popular
band in the 1970s. Like Galli, Urban was a genuine tough guy that the customers
at the Moonlighter respected.
The Moonlighter brought in
many of young, pretty girls, as well as the 20-something former South Philly street corner boys that as
teenagers were mortal enemies. Many of the street corners gangs battled each
other in parks, playgrounds and on the streets during the late 1960s. There
were many injuries and even a couple of murders, but in 1972, the corner boys
had matured somewhat, and they were then united by drink, drugs and dancing with girls at
the great bar.
The former 13th
& Oregon street corner crowd considered the Moonlighter to be our bar, as
we were the closest corner. And although we were a small corner, and we were
considered to be more of a party corner than a combative one, we had several
respected tough guys, such as Joe Villotti and Chick and Stevie Saccone.
I recall that Gene Urban, who
became a good friend of mine, had a stage built two feet off of the floor at
the end of the bar and on weekends he brought in bands that played live music.
In front of the stage was a hard wood dance floor where customers danced to the
performing bands. This was a few years before recorded dance music would replace live bands in the clubs. (We called the music club music, and I never heard anyone call it Disco).
Even though I was a veteran,
I was only 19 and a half and so I was underaged at the time. Twenty-one was the legal
drinking age in Pennsylvania, but thankfully Al Tuna and Gene allowed me to drink at the bar, and I was there nearly every night.
Stillitano wanted to talk
about the Moonlighter and how his late father, a Philadelphia Cosa Nostra
capo of the Wildwood, New Jersey crew, and a national boxing promotor, illegal
gambler and fixer for Philadelphia boss Angelo Bruno, became involved in a
dispute at the popular South Philly bar in 1972 between the outlaw motorcycle
club the Renegades and the notorious drug gang from Dalton and Oregon Avenue
known as the D&O gang.
Although I later heard about
the altercation at the Moonlighter during the summer of 1972, I was away from
South Philly attending a summer semester at Pennsylvania State University at
State College, PA.
Stillitano puffed on his
cigar and pointed at the front of the building that once housed the old Moonlighter. He spoke of the time three bikers entered the Moonlighter on a Friday night.
“The problem was the Renegades and the D&O gang were competitors in the heroin drug trade at the time,” Stillitano
explained. “Gene did his usual thing and frisked the three bikers and disarmed
them. All three bikers carried knives, which Gene placed under the bar.
“Bikers did not usually drink
at the Moonlighter, and Al Tuna warned the bikers that he didn’t want any
fighting or drug dealing in the bar. The bikers, who knew Al Tuna’s reputation,
said they understood. But it was not long before the two drug gangs clashed.”
Stillitano said that a
D&O guy, Joesph “Joey D” D’Alo started the fight when one of the bikers
asked a neighborhood Italian girl to dance. She said no and the biker shrugged
and walked away, but D’Alo took offense and smashed his beer bottle against the
back of the biker’s head.
The biker went down and his
two friends rushed to his aid. The other D&O gang members jumped in and
began to beat the bikers. Gene Urban, Tony Tuna, a bartender, and other customers
broke up the fight. The bikers left the bar and threatened to come back in
force.
Tony Tuna apologized to the
bikers outside of the bar and said that Joey D would be banned from the bar, but if they came back
looking for trouble, well… Tony Tuna lifted his shirt and showed the bikers the
butt of his revolver in a holster.
Thankfully, the Renegades did
not return to the bar, but the D&O gang members drove three carloads of the
gang to the Renegades’ bar and club house. At four in the morning, four D&O
hoodlums aimed their shotguns at the front of the bar and opened fire. No one
was in the bar, so no one was injured, but the shotgun blasts caused
considerable property damage.
The Renegades’ leader, Roland
“Outlaw Santa” Simpson, a 60-year-old, white-haired biker with a long white beard
and huge belly who did in fact resemble Santa Claus and even portrayed Santa at
a Center City department store during the holidays, spoke to a Cosa Nostra
soldier he did business with. He told the mobster that the outlaw bikers were going to retaliate against
the D&O gang.
The mobster reported the
conversation to the Philadelphia Cosa Nostra organized crime family boss Angelo Bruno. Bruno
was not happy. His soldiers had trouble with the D&O gang in the past. They
were fearless and reckless, in other words, stupid, Bruno thought. Bruno’s capos had asked for approval to whack the
D&O leaders, but Bruno knew a shooting war was bad for business.
Dead bodies in the street and
injured innocent bystanders would cause the newspapers and the TV stations to
crusade against violent crime, which would lead the Philly cops and the feds to
come down in force and close the mob’s lucrative criminal enterprises.
Bruno knew that a South
Philly street war between the bikers and the D&O gang would be especially violent.
Bruno called his capo Nick Stillitano. The capo, called “Nick the Broker,” was
known for deescalating violent disputes.
Nick Stillitano called for a
sitdown meeting between Simpson and the D&O’s boss, a 40-year-old grim-faced, humorless hoodlum
named Rocky Rotta. Stillitano called for the sitdown to be held at the
Moonlighter, the scene of the original alteration.
Nick Stillitano arrived at
the bar after closing hours at three in the morning. Despite the late hour, Stillitano
was impeccably dressed in a dark business suit, a white shirt and black tie. He
looked more like a business executive than a mob boss. Walking in behind him
was his young son Salvatore, who was a Moonlighter regular and was there during
the bar fight.
Tony Tuna welcomed Nick
Stillitano with a hug and led him to a table where Outlaw Santa Simpson and
Rocky Rotta sat. Noticeably absent from the sitdown were the two combatants,
the biker and the D&O gang member.
“My father was smooth, He did
not threaten. He did not raise his voice. He did not get emotional. He
suggested rather than ordered,” Salvie Stillitano recalled.
Nick Stillitano told Simpson
and Rotta that a violent gang war would be bad for everyone’s business. He
offered a peace deal. The D&O would do business in South Philly and in the New
Jersey resort shore towns.
The Renegades would operate in
the Philly suburbs and the New Jersey towns along the Black Horse Pike before the shore points. Both
the Renegades and the D&O gang would pay a small tribute to the Philadelphia
Cosa Nostra family.
Stillitano also suggested that Rotta discipline his underling, Joey D, the instigator of the situation. And he suggested that Simpson keep his
bikers away from the Moonlighter and other mobbed-up South Philly bars and
clubs in order to prevent similar incidents.
“Done,” Rotta said, quickly realizing
that the territory deal would nearly double the drug gang’s income.
Simpson also agreed, knowing how lucrative the deal was for the outlaw biker gang.
Tony Tuna brought out a bottle,
and everyone had a drink to celebrate the new peace.
"So, my dad stopped a major
drug gang war in South Philly,” Salvatore Stillitano said to me as we walked away from 13th and Shunk. “And Joey D was later whacked
in Wildwood. He went to the shore to get away from the trouble, but Rocky Rotta
clipped him with a double blast from a shotgun.”
© 2026 Paul Davis
You can read earlier posted chapters via the links below:
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'The Rigano Murders'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'From South Philly To Sicily'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Salvie Shotgun'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Nick The Broker'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Upton "Uppercut" Clarke'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'The Face'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Three Soldiers'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Jadroll'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Up And Coming'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Tony Ball-Peen'
Paul Davis On Crime: My Crime Fiction: 'Passyunk Avenue'