The Quiet Don: The Untold Story of Mafia Kingpin Russell Bufalino by Matt Birkbeck

hearings.
    After buying the old resort, Louis DeNaples sold off its contents and then proceeded to tear down every building standing. Rising in their place would be a lavish hotel and casino to be accompanied by a retail center and eighteen-hole golf course.
    But the plan was modest compared to the larger casino proposed for nearby Pocono Manor. Like Mount Airy, Pocono Manor had a long history as a resort destination, having been owned by the Ireland family for years before they decided to sell to a group led by New Jersey developer Greg Matzel and his silent partner, Morris Bailey, a billionaire conservative Jew who belonged to one of the wealthiest congregations in Brooklyn.
    Bailey’s money fueled an ambitious plan that would see a new eighteen-story resort hotel rise atop the mountain, complemented by a convention center, an 8,000-seat sports arena, a large lake surrounded by a shopping area and two golf courses. Situated near I-80 and just off I-380, Pocono Manor offered by far the better plan of the two Pocono applicants, and it had a respected industry executive as its president, Dennis Gomes.
    Gomes was a major figure in casino circles who in a previous life was a former investigator with the Nevada Gaming Commission who had rooted out much of the organized crime influence in Las Vegas in the late 1970s. Gomes’ work was the basis for the Martin Scorsese film
Casino
. Gomes later went on to become the president of several casinos, including the Tropicana and Taj Mahal in Atlantic City, and the Golden Nugget in Las Vegas. His participation in the Pocono Manor project added instant credibility to the plan.
    A third application, from Dr. Joseph Mattioli, the owner of famed NASCAR track Pocono Raceway, envisioned a casino placed next door to the tri-oval track. But Mattioli pulled the plan after learning that DeNaples indeed had his eyes set on a gaming license. Mattioli knew that neither he nor Pocono Manor would ever get a license over Louis DeNaples.
    The gaming board was on a strict timeline and was looking to award its large, stand-alone gaming licenses by December 2006. Over the course of that summer, the board began its background investigations, which included assembling all personal and financial records of Louis DeNaples.
    Raised in Dunmore, Pennsylvania, DeNaples was born to Margaret, a homemaker, and Patrick, who worked for the Erie-Lackawanna Railroad but made little money, and the story that eventually accompanied any DeNaples biography was that he and his siblings were so poor they received the same sled each year for Christmas while wearing rags on their feet instead of shoes, to the amusement of other children. With no more than an eighth-grade education, DeNaples eventually opened his first junkyard in the 1960s.
    As his business grew, DeNaples began to make political contributions to both Democrats and Republicans. By 1969, DeNaples branched out and opened his first landfill in Dunmore after winning the city of Scranton’s garbage contract. In 1972, he was named a director of the First National Community Bank, and between his many businesses, DeNaples saw his wealth and stature gradually grow, and some speculated his success was due in part to his relationship with Russell Bufalino.
    It was common knowledge that no one could operate anywhere in the region as DeNaples had without Bufalino’s blessing, or his cooperation. According to the Pennsylvania Crime Commission, one of Bufalino’s top lieutenants, Casper “Cappy” Giumento, was a regular visitor to DeNaples’ auto parts store and the landfill, and was believed to be serving as a go-between, passing messages between Bufalino and DeNaples.
    A rising power within the state and local community, DeNaples ascent was derailed in 1977 when he was charged with falsifying documents to obtain more than $525,000 in federal reimbursements and was tried with three other men for falsely billing the federal government for cleanup work related to 1972’s