Carmine Galante was born on February 21, 1910, into the bustle of East Harlem, NYC. His parents, Sicilian immigrants from Castellammare del Golfo, had arrived in 1906—his dad a fisherman, his mom devoted to family life. By age ten, young Carmine's dead-serious temperament had him shipped off to reform school, and before he even turned 20, he’d plunged deep into street-level crime—coordinating robberies, scamming petty jobs, hustling shorelines, dropping out of school by seventh grade, you name it. At 15, he pleaded guilty to assault; a year later, he got a sentence for robbery.

The 1930s only sharpened his edge. After an attempted payroll robbery led to the death of a police officer (he was never indicted), Galante got into a wild shootout in Brooklyn, injuring an officer and a child—both survived. In 1931 he pleaded guilty to attempted robbery, earning a 12½-year stretch—but by 1939 he was back out on parole.

While behind bars, he underwent a psych evaluation; doctors pegged him with a “psychopathic personality”—emotionally cold, indifferent, speaking with startling candor that unnerved staff and inmates alike. Upon release, Galante tapped into his Sicilian ties and became a lethal enforcer for Vito Genovese.

By the 1950s, Galante morphed into a major player in the Bonanno family’s international narcotics ring—especially in Montreal, where he coordinated heroin trafficking through the infamous French Connection. His influence was so potent that Canada deported him in 1956 due to his extortionist tactics.

With a cigar nearly always in tow—earning him the nicknames "Lilo" and "The Cigar"—Galante’s notoriety grew. He showed up at the infamous 1957 Apalachin Mafia summit, rubbing shoulders with heavyweights like Lucky Luciano.

Carmine Galante’s criminal trajectory began at a disturbingly young age. Sent to reform school at 10 for his early delinquency, he quickly formed a juvenile street gang in NYC’s Lower East Side. By 15, he’d dropped out of school and was already involved in serious criminality—pledging guilty to assault on December 12, 1925, and subsequently receiving a two-and-a-half-year sentence on December 22, 1926.

In August 1930, Galante was arrested for the murder of Officer Walter DeCastilla during a payroll heist, but the case never stuck. In that same year, Galante was wounded in a shootout while hijacking a truck in Brooklyn—police officer Joseph Meenahan and a six-year-old bystander were injured but survived. His violent streak culminated on February 8, 1931, when he pleaded guilty to attempted robbery and was sent away for 12½ years. His release came via parole on May 1, 1939.

By the early 1940s, Galante had firmly entrenched himself in the Mafia’s enforcer role, working under underboss Vito Genovese. His reputation was chilling—law enforcement suspected him of involvement in something between 80 to 100 murders.

On January 11, 1943, Galante is believed to have assassinated Carlo Tresca, publisher of an anti-fascist newspaper, outside his Manhattan office. The crime was reportedly ordered by Genovese as a favor to Mussolini, though no formal charges were ever filed. Galante was sent back to prison for parole violations, only to be released again on December 21, 1944.

In 1953, Joseph Bonanno tapped him to build the family’s drug empire in Montreal, forming an alliance with Vincenzo Cotroni of the Cotroni crime family. Together, they ran the French Connection heroin pipeline—smuggling in vast shipments of heroin to the U.S., and reportedly earning up to $50 million annually from gambling rackets. In April 1956, Canadian authorities expelled him for egregious extortion tactics.

Fleeing indictment for drug trafficking, Galante lay low until June 3, 1959, when New Jersey State Police caught him on the Garden State Parkway. He posted $100,000 bail and remained free. On May 18, 1960, he surrendered to a fresh set of charges.

His first trial, which began November 21, 1960, was nothing short of chaotic—with jurors falling ill, intimidation tactics, and dramatic courtroom showmanship leading to a mistrial declared on May 15, 1961. Galante walked away with 20 days in jail for contempt. The second trial was less forgiving. On July 10, 1962, he was convicted of drug trafficking and sentenced to 20 years in federal prison plus a $20,000 fine.

Galante’s parole came in January 1974, just in time for a brazen power move—he allegedly bombed the doors of Frank Costello’s mausoleum in St. Michael’s Cemetery.

By July 12, 1979, Carmine Galante had positioned himself as the de facto head of the Bonanno family—a bold power play during Rastelli’s imprisonment. His swagger topped only by his brutality, he had ruffled feathers across the Mafia Commission and among rival families. Unchecked ambition in the Mafia always demands a price.

Galante’s lunch that day wasn’t casual—it was a setup. Around 1 p.m., Galante, his cousin Giuseppe “Joe” Turano, capo Leonard Coppola, and his two Sicilian bodyguards, Baldassare Amato and Cesare Bonventre, convened at Joe & Mary’s Italian‑American Restaurant on Knickerbocker Avenue in Brooklyn for an outdoor courtyard lunch.

They were not alone in plotting—behind the scenes, Bonanno boss Philip Rastelli had enlisted the help of other families. With approval from the Mafia Commission, Rastelli, aided by Joseph Massino, orchestrated Galante’s deadly overthrow. The hit was made even smoother by persuading Galante’s own bodyguards—Amato and Bonventre—to betray him, dangling power and promotions in exchange for cooperation.

As the clock ticked closer to 2:45 p.m.,he sat eating lunch on a patio at Joe & Mary’s Italian-American Restaurant in Bushwick, Brooklyn.  After dessert, just as Galante leaned back, lighting up that iconic cigar, three ski‑masked assassins stormed the property. One voice eerily cracked, “In the back, Sally.” Then they charged straight into the courtyard, guns blazing.

Turano, in a last instinctive move, rose and sputtered, “What are you guys doing?” But the response was a spray of bullets—shotguns and handguns unleashed death at close range. Galante, Coppola, and Turano were killed outright. 

The hit was widely believed to be orchestrated by Rastelli and approved by the Mafia Commission, in collusion with the Gambino and Genovese families. Anthony Indelicato and others were later convicted for their roles. Galante was buried at Saint John's Cemetery in Queens.