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Celtic Thugs
Celtic Thugs
Celtic Thugs
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Celtic Thugs

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It was a time in America when the Irish mob was at the peak of its power, and poverty, crime, and corruption ran rampant on the streets of the Irish slums in South Boston. One man would try to climb to the top of the world of organized crime.

Follow Anthony Griffin on his journey as a young kid from the streets of Southie to his rise through the ranks of the Irish mob.

Helped along the way by his friends and mob boss Sean Finn, Anthony Griffin is faced with the realities of choosing a life as a gangster. As Anthonys journey takes him down a dark path filled with violence, death, love, loyalty, and betrayal, he is in conflict with himself and with his very soul.

Nar lagai Dia do lamh, lad! May God not weaken your hand, lad!
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateDec 28, 2012
ISBN9781477297247
Celtic Thugs
Author

Matthew Smith Jr.

Matthew Smith Jr. is a retired Postmaster who dutifully served the U.S. Postal Service for over 40 years. He was part of the dramatic change in the Postal Service in acknowledging and establishing diversity in its workforce. He broke the color ranks by becoming the first African American Postmaster of a Moderate Size Post Office in Northern Ohio. As a Director of Human Resources, another rare position for an African American, he was directly involved in the "Changing Of The Guard" to be reflective of the people who worked there. Mr. Smith spent 20 years of his PostalCareer in the Labor Movement, serving as President of the Cleveland Local of NAPFE. He has distinguished himself as a Source Expert on the history of Blacks in the Labor Movement in the U.S.A. He has lectured on "Self Marketing" and "The Power Of Positive Thinking".Mr. Smith has pursued his life changing study of Metaphysics for over thirty-six years, his goal is to share everything he has learned with people, as opposed to just taking it to the grave. He received his education at Cuyahoga Community College, and Cleveland State University. "Underneath My Skin"- Shares the story of a young woman who's only dream is to become a Lawyer, or an F.B.I. Agent. The problem comes when her father a very fair Black man married to her mother a White woman, demands she pass for White when she enters Virginia Tech University. Her brother Steve who is already Passing for White, is about to graduate and has been offered a prestigious job at a well-known Architectural Firm. The year is 1989, and although it has been years since advertisement stating, "Coloreds Need Not Apply" have disappeared from the scene, the underlying racism still exist and is fuly operational. James, Jennifer's father only wants the best for their children, and is willing to sacrifice his racialpride. Jennifer, his beautiful White looking daughter Is not! Jennifer's personal motto was, "I'm Black and I'm Proud". She does finally give in not wanting her brother to lose his opportunity. She learns a lot about people of both colors when she enters a world filled with dangerous characters.

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    Book preview

    Celtic Thugs - Matthew Smith Jr.

    © 2013 by Matthew Smith Jr.. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse   12/18/2012

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-9725-4 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4772-9724-7 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2012923261

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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    CONTENTS

    CHAPTER 1

    CHAPTER 2

    CHAPTER 3

    CHAPTER 4

    CHAPTER 5

    CHAPTER 6

    CHAPTER 7

    CHAPTER 8

    CHAPTER 9

    CHAPTER 10

    CHAPTER 11

    CHAPTER 12

    CHAPTER 13

    CHAPTER 14

    CHAPTER 15

    CHAPTER 16

    CHAPTER 17

    CHAPTER 18

    ABOUT THE AUTHOR

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    CHAPTER 1

    A s I lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling, I keep fading in and out of consciousness, and as I do, I see pieces of my life flash before me.

    As I see those pieces of my life, I realize now that if there is a heaven, I will never see it. I have always tried to look at myself as a good person who never did any harm to good, honest people, but if I am honest with myself, I have to admit that I was never any good to anyone. I was nothing but a thief, a crook, and even a murderer.

    As I think about the life I have lived and all the horrible things I have done, I can’t help but go back to my memories as a kid, where it all began. I was born and raised in the Irish slums of South Boston. Southie, we all called it. Southie was a neighborhood made up of Irish immigrants and their children who fled Ireland during the great famine. Southie was a rough place to grow up—broken-down tenements all over, garbage in the streets, and poverty throughout the neighborhood. And wherever there is poverty, there is always plenty of crime.

    Crime was everywhere in my neighborhood. People scraped and clawed to make whatever money they could by doing whatever they had to do.

    My father was an exception, though. He made an honest living as a fisherman and never turned to a life of crime like so many others in our neighborhood, but he paid the price for it. We were dirt-poor, and we barely scraped by.

    My father did not speak English very well, and when he tried, you could not understand him. He was a hardened man who drank way too much, probably to wash away his frustration over being poor and not being able to find success here in America. He and my mother came from the old country in 1879. Six years later, I was born.

    My parents named me Anthony Griffin after my mother’s father, who still lived back in Cork, Ireland. I guess it was a tradition to do so.

    At a young age, growing up in my neighborhood, I had to learn how to be tough. I remember my father smacking me around a lot as a kid, and at the time I thought it was just the old man venting his anger. But now that I think back, I believe the old man was trying to toughen me up.

    I can still remember my first fight. A kid named Robert McCain, who lived on the same block as me, came up to me and punched me in the face because of an argument that we’d had. I started to cry, and then he started to throw more punches.

    As the kid continued to swing at me, I started to realize that he had nothing on my old man. My old man could give a beating a whole lot worse than this kid could ever think of. So, at that moment, I stopped crying and threw some punches of my own. Robert probably got the best of me, but I never quit. I kept swinging blow for blow with him until someone broke us up. Robert respected me for it in the end, and so did all the other kids in the neighborhood. They all saw that I was a scrappy kid, and I knew at that point that I was never again going to be scared over a fight. That was the last time I can remember crying.

    After that fight, Robert and I became best friends. We often fought against other kids, trying to prove that we were the toughest kids on our block, and most of the time we proved it. But there was another kid named Liam Lowery who lived down the street. He proved to be just as tough. We battled it out with him and his friends many times, until we all got tired of beating each other up and decided to join forces.

    After the three of us became friends, we ruled our block. No other kids on our block dared challenge us, for fear of catching a beating. We may have been little hooligans embracing the street life, but in my neighborhood, it was either embrace the life or be swallowed up by it.

    The three of us looked up to the criminals in our neighborhood—not the small-time crooks but the guys with the money and big reputations, the ones everyone feared, and at the top of that list was a guy by the name of Sean Finn.

    Sean Finn was much more than just an average criminal. He ran all of Southie. He was the boss in my neighborhood. He ran the gambling, lone-sharking, extortion—you name it. If it was illegal and there was money to be made, then he either ran it or got a piece of it. If you did anything in the neighborhood without Finn getting his piece, then you wound up with a broken leg or, even worse, your neck sliced open. Finn was well-organized. He had a lot of soldiers, but at the core of his organization was a crew of five men.

    Finn’s number-one, most trusted guy was Colin Doyle. Doyle had grown up with Finn in the old country, and they were best friends. He was a smart guy, and he was also ruthless. He and Finn were the most feared men in the neighborhood.

    Another guy was a man named Tom O’Brian. O’Brian was a quiet man who seemed to be a little withdrawn, but everybody in the neighborhood knew what kind of man he was. He was a cold-blooded murderer who would kill you at the drop of Finn’s command. He usually ran most of Finn’s gambling operations.

    Another guy was Aidan McNeil. Aidan was known as a wild man. He was crazy, and he wanted everyone to know it. Aidan took care of some lone-sharking and collections for Finn.

    The fourth guy was Brady Smith. Everyone called him Big Brady. He was big, and he was very intimidating, a bare-knuckle fighter known for having heavy hands. He did a lot of collecting; whether it was for shakedowns, protection money, or whatever, he was usually the guy to do it.

    The last guy was Sean Gowan. Sean’s father had been a close friend of Finn’s before being killed by a rival gang. After Sean’s father died, Finn took Sean in and helped raise him. After that, he worked for Finn.

    These men were the law in my neighborhood, and they all worked for the man that ruled the streets of Southie: Sean Finn.

    Finn was also popular with the politicians. Finn had the power of the people in our neighborhood, and having the power of the people meant having the power of the vote, and the vote went whatever way Finn wanted it to, whether it was for the gain of the Irish interest or the gain of Finn’s pocketbook.

    My friends and I all looked up to Finn and his crew, and we all wanted to be just like them. They had money, they had power, and they had respect—and that was exactly what we wanted.

    For us kids that lived in the Irish slums of Boston, there were no dreams of someday going off to college or getting some great job somewhere. An Irishman could not even find a decent job, let alone go to college. For us, the dream was to someday have money, power, and respect. And the only way to get those things on the streets of Southie was to go out and take it.

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    CHAPTER 2

    I must have been about sixteen when I was first approached by two men from Finn’s organization—Big Brady and Aidan McNeil.

    Liam, Robert, and I were hanging around on the corner of our street, talking with a couple of the neighborhood kids, when we first saw Big Brady and Aidan approaching us. I was a little scared about it at first, but I couldn’t think of anything we had done that would have angered them or Finn.

    When the two of them reached us, Big Brady looked at me and asked me how I would feel about making some quick, easy money.

    What would I have to do? I asked him, but it did not matter what it was. I would have done anything for them, if it meant working for Finn.

    Well, Big Brady said, I would like you and your boys to go down to McGwire’s hardware store and torch the place, he told me. I’ll make it worth your while.

    McGwire’s hardware store? Liam said. Why do you want that place torched?

    Big Brady just looked down at Liam with that mean, scowling look he was known for. McGwire doesn’t think he needs to pay for protection anymore, he said and then smiled. He was wrong.

    What would you be willing to pay for this little job? I asked him, even though it did not matter. I would have done it for free, but I did not want to seem overanxious.

    Ten dollars, he said. In 1901 ten dollars was a lot of money for a sixteen-year-old boy.

    No problem, I told him. We’d be more than happy to do it. Then we shook hands.

    It was the opportunity I had been waiting for. We had finally been noticed by Finn, and he trusted us enough to throw some work our way. If we did a good job and made Finn happy, I knew that there would be other jobs in the future.

    So the boys and I waited for it to get dark. Once it did, the boys and I headed over to McGwire’s hardware store. When we arrived, we stood across the street from the hardware store. I looked all around in every direction to make sure the street was empty. There was no one in sight.

    Stay here and keep a lookout, I told Robert. If anyone comes, howl like a dog and then walk away. Then I turned to Liam. Come on. Let’s go, I said to him, and we started off for the hardware store.

    Liam and I walked across the street and then into an alley that led to the back of the building where we knew there was a window. I picked up a rock and flung it through the window. The window smashed and made a pretty loud noise, but there was no one around to hear it.

    I reached my hand inside the broken window and unlocked it. Liam and I went inside. Once inside, I pulled a pillowcase out of my trousers and handed it to Liam. Fill the pillowcase with the most expensive stuff you can find, I told him, and make it quick. I’ll go and look for a cash box.

    Liam went stumbling around in the dark, trying to find things of value that were small enough to put in the pillowcase. I looked for a cash box, but I did not find one. I am sure that old McGwire probably took his money home with him at night. That would be the smart thing to do. As soon as Liam had filled the pillowcase, we got down to business. I found some lamp oil on one of the shelves, so I grabbed it and opened it up. I began to pour it all over the store and then poured a trail to the broken window.

    Liam and I then hopped out of the building. When we were safely outside, I lit a match and threw it into the hardware store. The place quickly went up in flames. Liam and I ran around to the front of the store to get Robert, and the three of us got out of there as fast as we could.

    After our task was done and we had stashed our goods that were in the pillowcase, Liam, Robert, and I headed over to Finn’s pub, the Capall Dubh (Black Horse). That was where we knew we would find Big Brady.

    When we got to the Capall Dubh, we went inside and looked around for Big Brady. The place was full of smoke, and there was a lively band playing tunes from the old country.

    As I looked around, I spotted Brady sitting at the end of the bar along with Doyle, Sean Gowan, and the man himself, Sean Finn.

    The boys and I started to walk over to Big Brady, when a large man stepped in front of us and stopped us in our tracks.

    What is your business in here, lads? he asked.

    We have business with Brady Smith, I told him.

    The man turned and walked over to Big Brady. When the man gave Brady the message, Big Brady turned and saw us. He waved us over. When we reached the end of the bar, he asked, Did you boys take care of McGwire’s hardware store like I told you?

    We did, I told him. Just like you wanted.

    Good lad, he said. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the money that was owed. The whole time I noticed that Finn was watching me. Big Brady handed me the money, shook my hand, and turned back toward his drink, as if to say, you can go now.

    I looked at Finn, who was still looking at me.

    I did not want to leave without getting a chance to talk to Finn. I felt that it was my one and only, golden opportunity, so I got up my nerve. Mister Finn, it was an honor, I told him, and if you ever need anything else in the future, me and my boys would be more than happy to help out.

    Doyle and Sean Gowan started to laugh. Big Brady just turned back around and looked at me, wondering what I was still doing there. Finn cracked a little smile but continued to look serious.

    Do you know me, lad? Finn asked.

    Yes, sir. You are Sean Finn, I said.

    Big Brady turned to Finn. This is the Griffin kid. He is the one I had take care of the hardware store.

    The Griffin kid, Finn said. "I have heard a little bit about

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