Frank "Strongy" Ferraro, My First Big Shave....

My First Big Shave and the Tuna’s Princess is Getting Married
It was great being on the close outside circles of a three ring circus. Tony Accardo's (also known as “The Tuna”) daughter was getting married. “Outfit” guys were coming in all week long to get fixed up for that wedding. The faces showing up in the barber shop were familiar to me from the ten o’clock news as well as the local papers but I had not learned all their names as yet. I was still the new kid at Melito’s.
It was Thursday at 10:30 a.m. when Frank “Strongy” Ferraro came through the Clark Street door. His bodyguard, Hy Godfrey, came in through the building’s concourse entrance, as usual.
The three manicurists were always kept busy; Laura won over most of the high rollers. Laura was my favorite too. She gave me my first manicure and a major piece of advice both at the same time; “Kid, look at their socks. If they spend money on their socks they’ll drop it.” She was right. It wasn’t Khalil Gibran, but the lady knew how to size up customers.
Millie, who was short, chunky, with a piercing nasal voice and critical of everyone, was working on a client when Strongy came in with Hy. Millie wished Laura would drop dead and maybe then she could possibly get some of that money crowd.
Flash was a sexy woman with a deep throaty voice, but time had not been kind to her. She spent all of her slow time reading the racing forms through her rhinestone studded glasses. She was also on a first name basis with every gangster that came through the doors of the shop. Maybe today she would get to work on Hy.
Laura was the classiest and was always Strongy’s first choice. However, Laura had a bad combination of addictions: astrology and playing the ponies. I asked Laura, “Who’s got the valuable birth date? The owner of the horse? The jockey? The trainer? The horse? YOU?”
“Kid, when you find out come back and tell me.”
Of the three porters Pope was a droopy eyed, pie faced man that would rather be sleeping than working. He always had a kind word, and a quick biblical reference to anything that would transpire. Slicker Sam was never in the running for most of the outfit guys and was sent to the downstairs barber shop which catered mostly to the out of town commuters. Charles was quick, lithe and willing to help, also very classy, from the old school of service. Strongy liked him the best.
Since I was the new kid and nineteen years old, I was lucky to be in the upstairs shop. I was assigned the ninth chair down past Carmie, in the eighth chair, and Dennis in the seventh chair. I frequently thought it was more for security reasons that Carmie and Dennis were positioned so far into the shop as opposed to being on the Clark Street side of the shop. Strongy would be attending the Accardo wedding that weekend.
The Big Tuna’s daughter was getting married. Tony Accardo, being Chicago’s Godfather, it was understood that when invited, you showed up. Most of these men were carry-overs from the Capone era. They were young enforcers at that time and had worked their way through the system so that by 1961 they were the major players. Strongy made himself comfortable in Carmie's chair and Hy made a once over sweep of the shop before sitting down in the waiting area and giving his boss the “everything is okay” nod.
Strongy asked Carmie, "Is the kid is doing anything?"
Whoa! That’s me. I am the kid. My asshole tightened like a hangman’s noose. I hated shaves. I was terrible at them. The last shave I gave was at barber school. “Hunchback Frank” was one of the more popular neighborhood bums. He slept in the basement of Healy’s grocery store with their dog. I remember accidentally cutting him because his hump wouldn’t allow him to lay flat. As I would apply pressure on one side he would rock to the other. That’s when I nicked him. It was like trying to shave someone in a rocking chair. But this is a mafia boss’ bodyguard. No doubt he’ll kill me if I cut him.
Carmie said, pointing to my chair, “He’s not doing a thing, sit down over here, Hy.”
And so the show began. I wrapped the chair cloth around Hy’s big body, and tilted the chair back to put him at a comfortable height for me to do my work. Carmie put the jar of prep in front of me with out saying a word. I picked up on the queue. I placed the first hot towel on Hy’s face and his wide broken nose stuck out of the towel.
Hy spoke up and said, “I like these hot towels. They really feel great, boss.”
I liked hearing something favorable. So it went, more prep, more lather, more hot towels. My sink was starting to get kind of sloppy wet with all of these hot towels. Hy had two hot towels on and I was reaching for the hot shaving lather to start in on the shave for my life. Since I share Carmie's new, all chrome, hot lather machine, I chose to make the reach rather than walk around the manicurist, porter and Carmie. I depressed the chrome button and began filling my hand with lather. Then physics increased my learning curve. The corner of my wet sink that I was leaning against dampened my trouser leg through to my right testicle, which became the electrical ground. I gave a shout that was heard throughout the shop. Hy was standing up ready to reach for his gun. There was a beautiful foamy white arc across my back bar mirror from the shave cream that slowly began to weep. Everybody wanted to know what happened. Carmie and Dennis came to me immediately and huddled, just like two baseball managers going to the mound to tell the pitcher, “one more of those and you are out of the game.”
My legs were still vibrating as I explained to Carmie and Dennis that “I just electrocuted my right nut.” Unfortunately, Hy, Strongy and Laura all heard what I told Carmie and Dennis. Strongy looked at me and laughed. He instantly gave me a nickname.
"Hey, Thundernuts, how’s it going?"
They all laughed. Hy laid back down for his shave and I did an okay job from that point. His leathery knuckles were flat from hitting things, no peaks and valleys like everyone else I knew. They just remained there on top of the chair cloth like two resting Rottweilers. When I got to his upper lip I had to pick up that busted up nose. Hy reached up slowly wrapped his hand around my wrist, like mine was a little babies’ hand. He said, “Don’t be nervous, I ain’t gonna hurt you kid. Everybody has to learn their business and it’s always tough at the beginning. If I was a real good boxer at the beginning, I wouldn’t have a broken nose, right?”
I finished the shave with a witch-hazel steam and looked at those big hands with knuckles flattened from years of punching, thinking “Wow, this guy still has a heart.” I found out later that he raised show dogs. Boxers, what else?
During their first visit after my big shave I wondered if I was going to be addressed as Thundernuts. I almost liked the name because it did have somewhat of a Native American sound to it. I never mentioned it to the guys I ran with because the name might have stuck. This time when they came in they both acknowledged my existence.
"Hi, kid."
"What du ya say, Junior."
I was befuddled----What should my response be? Should I say “Hello, Frank”? “Good morning, Mr. Ferraro”? No one ever calls him Strongy except when he’s not present. Maybe I should not use any names at all. There was nothing in my Christian Courtesy book we studied in grammar school that taught us how to greet mafia bosses. Yo would never do. No names, that's it.
"Good morning, sir," was it. I said it twice and prayed that Hy didn’t want a shave. My prayer was answered and I busied myself with stropping my razors.
There was much hyperbole about The Tuna’s princess’ wedding and wisecracks were made about how the groom would have a short lifespan if he were ever caught cheating. The general consensus was that no one wanted to be the husband in a marriage like that.
I began to notice every Thursday when Strongy came in he was always impeccably dressed. It was the first time for me to see a man with jewelry like that. Most of the other outfit guys wore gold chains with the Italian horn or cross and a diamond pinky ring. Strongy always wore a tailored suit, custom made shirts with French cuffs and ties with a CM logo sewn into them. Eventually I asked what the CM was all about. Old Matt clued me in, “Oh kid, dose are da most expensive ties around. Dat stands for Countess Mara. She’s some kinda special designer broad for big shots all over da world.”
When Strongy wore a black suit he would wear a full set of diamonds; cufflinks, tie tack, and pinky ring all in a platinum setting. If he wore grey, it would be a set of star sapphires; a brown suit brought out a set of rubies. Any of the watches complemented the ensemble and none of the watches were ever thicker than a half dollar. Always upon finishing the manicure Laura got his box of English Ovals and lit his cigarette for him while his nail polish dried. The old saw of “crime does not pay” was turned on its head for me. That was for a short while though. During those months I thought that not only did it pay, it paid quite well.
A couple of Thursdays went by and all was well. I was an accepted personage and, even more important to me, nobody wanted me to shave them. Carmie had finished Strongy and Laura was still finishing up his manicure. I headed over toward Toffenetti’s to meet Carmie and realized I had forgotten my wallet in the drawer of my back bar. As I walked back into my area and opened the drawer. I heard Hy say; “Aw, c’mon, boss. He’s got a wife and kids.”
My stomach just turned. Some guy is going to get whacked; and I…uh, …I’m uh…. I’m going to get a cup of coffee. Carmie corrected me about what I heard. I was right about Hy. He did have somewhat of a heart, he only did protecting. He didn’t do hits. Someone else would whack the poor doufas.
Dan’s philosophy on living was inspired by Dad’s comments we both had heard him say too many times: “I wished I’d…or If I only would have…” Neither one of us wanted to find ourselves in the regret department at the Pearly Gates Super Store. Dan would frequently say, “Better to be a has been than a never was-er.”