The year was 1929. The Wall Street Crash didn’t occur until October of that year so during the early months, Chicago was still basking in the glow of what we know today as the “roaring twenties.” Prohibition had been in effect for almost 9 years and organized crime was enjoying lucrative profits from the sale of alcohol, betting establishments and other shady businesses. The driving force behind the profits enjoyed by gangsters of the day was little more than greed. Everyone wanted a little larger slice of the pie. But to gain a larger portion of the profits required someone else to lose theirs. Gang rivalries were thriving but most paled in comparison to the animosity that existed between the South Side Italian gang led by Al Capone and the North Side Irish gang run by Bugs Moran. That animosity was clearly on display February 14, 1929 – the day of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.
Historians have provided many insights into what transpired that day, but in this article I will peel back the curtain to reveal the measures that led to this infamous event. (The names have been changed to protect the innocent – er, um, actually, they’ve been changed because nothing you are about to read is factual).
Early that morning, Frank “The Tank” O’Brian sat at the breakfast table reading the morning paper. His pretty wife, Sharon, was busy preparing his eggs and toast.
“Do you know what today is?” asked Sharon in a coy voice.
“Yeah! It’s Thursday,” answered The Tank.
“Oh, silly. I mean do you know what holiday it is today?”
The Tank dropped the newspaper on the table and gave his wife a perturbed look. “Today ain’t no holiday, me sweet. It’s just another day.”
Sharon looked wounded. “You mean, you don’t care that today is Valentine’s Day. Didn’t you get me a card? Some candy? Anything?”
“Now why would I be going and doing something foolish like that for? You don’t need a card, and you certainly don’t need any chocolate – you know that stuff goes right to your hips!”
I wish you could have seen The Tanks face as little Sharon tossed two pieces of burnt toast on the table in front of him and tilted his plate full of eggs so they landed on the floor.
Meanwhile, just down the street, Willy “The Scourge” O’Malley was placing his breakfast order at the diner. His girlfriend, Molly, was waiting on him. “Give me a plate of eggs with some of them shredded potatoes you know I love.”
When Molly returned with his food, she stood beside his table, holding the plate in one hand and a large cup of coffee in the other. Willy looked up with a questioning look on his face. “Well, woman, what are you waiting for? Put me food down on the table so I can get to eating.”
“Don’t you have something for me? After all, it is Valentine’s Day, you know,” said Molly, batting her eyes.
“Valentine’s Day, eh? Sure, I got something for you.” With that, Willy gave Molly a firm slap on her backside. “There, me darlin’. Now, be a good girl and give me my food.”
The other diners watched in stunned silence as Molly proceeded to dump the plate of eggs and potatoes on Willy’s head, followed by the coffee she poured in his lap.
The same type of thing happened at the home of Brian Begley, Chris Londergan, Mickey MacAllister and two of their other comrades. No gift for the little lady resulting in foods of various kinds landing on the men everywhere except where they had been expecting it.
Later that morning, the women gathered at the local grocery and concocted a plan to teach their men a lesson for their lack of sensitivity.
Not long after, the seven men met at a local garage to discuss the strange way their women had behaved earlier in the day. While they were comparing notes, a car pulled up outside. Two men dressed as policemen exited the car followed by two others dressed in suits. The rest – as they say – is history.
Gentlemen, every year the potential for a reoccurrence of the St. Valentine’s Massacre exists. But you can protect yourself from such a tragedy. Valentine’s Day cards, candy or other gifts may not mean much to you but do not underestimate their value to the women you love. Don’t miss this opportunity to express your adoration and affection to your special someone. Who knows, it could save you from wearing your food this Friday – or worse!
Historians have provided many insights into what transpired that day, but in this article I will peel back the curtain to reveal the measures that led to this infamous event. (The names have been changed to protect the innocent – er, um, actually, they’ve been changed because nothing you are about to read is factual).
Early that morning, Frank “The Tank” O’Brian sat at the breakfast table reading the morning paper. His pretty wife, Sharon, was busy preparing his eggs and toast.
“Do you know what today is?” asked Sharon in a coy voice.
“Yeah! It’s Thursday,” answered The Tank.
“Oh, silly. I mean do you know what holiday it is today?”
The Tank dropped the newspaper on the table and gave his wife a perturbed look. “Today ain’t no holiday, me sweet. It’s just another day.”
Sharon looked wounded. “You mean, you don’t care that today is Valentine’s Day. Didn’t you get me a card? Some candy? Anything?”
“Now why would I be going and doing something foolish like that for? You don’t need a card, and you certainly don’t need any chocolate – you know that stuff goes right to your hips!”
I wish you could have seen The Tanks face as little Sharon tossed two pieces of burnt toast on the table in front of him and tilted his plate full of eggs so they landed on the floor.
Meanwhile, just down the street, Willy “The Scourge” O’Malley was placing his breakfast order at the diner. His girlfriend, Molly, was waiting on him. “Give me a plate of eggs with some of them shredded potatoes you know I love.”
When Molly returned with his food, she stood beside his table, holding the plate in one hand and a large cup of coffee in the other. Willy looked up with a questioning look on his face. “Well, woman, what are you waiting for? Put me food down on the table so I can get to eating.”
“Don’t you have something for me? After all, it is Valentine’s Day, you know,” said Molly, batting her eyes.
“Valentine’s Day, eh? Sure, I got something for you.” With that, Willy gave Molly a firm slap on her backside. “There, me darlin’. Now, be a good girl and give me my food.”
The other diners watched in stunned silence as Molly proceeded to dump the plate of eggs and potatoes on Willy’s head, followed by the coffee she poured in his lap.
The same type of thing happened at the home of Brian Begley, Chris Londergan, Mickey MacAllister and two of their other comrades. No gift for the little lady resulting in foods of various kinds landing on the men everywhere except where they had been expecting it.
Later that morning, the women gathered at the local grocery and concocted a plan to teach their men a lesson for their lack of sensitivity.
Not long after, the seven men met at a local garage to discuss the strange way their women had behaved earlier in the day. While they were comparing notes, a car pulled up outside. Two men dressed as policemen exited the car followed by two others dressed in suits. The rest – as they say – is history.
Gentlemen, every year the potential for a reoccurrence of the St. Valentine’s Massacre exists. But you can protect yourself from such a tragedy. Valentine’s Day cards, candy or other gifts may not mean much to you but do not underestimate their value to the women you love. Don’t miss this opportunity to express your adoration and affection to your special someone. Who knows, it could save you from wearing your food this Friday – or worse!