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“He wasn’t a big man, just about five foot nine, but he was strong, a boxer from a steel town, and he made me feel that he was ravenously grateful for a woman’s softness after being locked in the blast furnaces all day. His image as a heavy drinker was for the press. With me, he wanted to be fully conscious and savor every moment. Between rounds of lust, we’d split a Coke,” writes Sandra Lansky, daughter of Meyer Lansky, a prominent organized crime figure who was pivotal in the expansion of the “National Crime Syndicate" in the United States, alongside his partner feared mafia boss Charles "Lucky" Luciano, known as the ‘Mob's Accountant,’ Lansky was a reserved, stylish-dapper Jew, and one of the most influential people in the country. His gambling cartel extended from Las Vegas to Cuba, along with his crime syndicate associates, Lucky Luciano and Bugsy Siegel.
Speaking passionately about Martin, Martin’s virility and masculinity enticed her to him rather than Sinatra, who ran scared from the ten-year-old version of her after he spilled a bucket of ice in her lap while greeting her father. Her laughter broke the “ice,” so to speak, and her Dad was ok with Frank following the nervous mishap. When it came to Martin, Lansky had other memories and none of the ice, but instead, she recalled one “hot” night when she and Dean made love six times. “I had never seen anything like Dean Martin’s masculinity. We made love six times in a night that wouldn’t stop. I counted.”
Those nights with his passionate mistress, Sandra Lansky, were far from his days working in the 150° heat of a noisy steel mill. His life was a living hell next to the blast furnace at the mill. But it's that male machismo that seduced Sandra’s tender femininity, all while his wife was home pregnant with his daughter. Their secretive romance was kept between them not to destroy the equilibrium of their private lives. Her Daddy’s traditional manners and ways would have blamed their imprudence on Dino! For her part, Sandra thought of Dean as another boy's toy, so she enjoyed their casualness, and she didn't care if he had a wifey and family. Their relationship continued, and he’d fly her to glamorous gigs for romantic rendezvous all over the United States until she met her husband for life, Vince Lombardo, a prominent Mafia family member. Lombardo gave up his life in the criminal underworld after he married Sandra, promising her Dad he’d stay clean. The same can't be said for Lansky, who continued as a powerful gangster, and despite fifty years of involvement in organized crime, was never convicted of anything more serious than illegal gambling and left behind a legacy as one of the most financially successful gangsters in American history. Those were Dean Martin’s people. Since his youth, he’d associated with gangsters.
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With Steubenville, Ohio, as its backdrop, the Market Street bridge connects Ohio to West Virginia, where steelworkers commuted daily the short distance to West Virginia to work. Steubenville is remembered as Dean Martin’s hometown. It was also a branch office of the mafia. The dominant influence of the steel mill permeated every aspect of daily life in Steubenville and other industrial towns within the Ohio River Rust Belt during the height of steel’s golden age in the 1940s. From across the river, iconic smokestacks towered over Steubenville. They acted as a reminder of hope the steel industry brought to poor, primarily Slavik immigrants, who sought the warmth of the blast furnaces for the wages it got them. Dino Paul Crocetti, son of two Italian immigrants, tried out the working-class lifestyle and took a job in the steel mill but moved on to a brighter future working for the local mob boss Jimmy Tripodi and his second-in-charge Cosmo Quattrone bootlegging liquor and running errands for him for him. Gambling like alcohol ran underground by mob bosses. Martin landed a gig at an illicit casino owned by Quattrone, ran out of his Rex Cigar Shop working roulette tables, and worked as a car dealer, followed by working at the Jungle Inn casino in Youngstown owned by Cleveland Godfather James Licavoli. Licavoli and other Youngstown mobsters helped land Martin his early entertainment bookings singing in nightclubs around Northeast Ohio. At that time, the Mahoning Valley was under Licavoli's control, and he managed it for the superior mob kingpins in Cleveland and Detroit. According to FBI files, Martin could be seen at Quattrone’s supper clubs and back door casinos, commanding attention on his trips home during his Rat Pack days hob-nobbing with his rust-belt mob buddies, playing golf, and living it up. Martin made all the rounds on visits back to Steubenville, and FBI files detail Dean Martin had just as many mafia ties as his famous mob-connected best pal Frank Sinatra.
During Martin’s era— in the towns along the Ohio River, it was not unusual for individuals, especially those in the working class employed in industries like steel, to be attracted to jobs and careers, both illicit and honorable, with organized crime due to the enticement and promise of higher financial rewards. Your choice was to earn a middle-class living working long, grueling hours in the challenging environment of the steel mills, constantly exposed to hazards, including extreme heat, toxic fumes, and the risk of burns or injuries from machinery, or you could work for the mob. A new saying about Vegas is, “Vegas was better when the mob ran it.” Raising my hand over here, “I can attest to that.” There probably wasn't an entertainer in Vegas when I was there in the 80s who wasn't there knowingly or unknowingly because of a mob connection. I didn't play golf with them or attend their social soirees, but I was aware of their powerful presence. Without the mob, there would be no Las Vegas. It's on their shoulders that many individuals and corporations have become billionaires off of Sin City. During Martin and Sinatra's heyday, the East Coast and Midwest were run by mafioso, and most of the premium nightclubs were sought by the best performers. Martin was tired of tossing the dice, so he threw them out, hung up his prize fight gloves, and pursued a singing career. Martin was just 17 years old; he’d played the drums, and show business greatly interested him, especially since his knuckles were still healing from his short-lived prize-fighting career known as “Kid Crochet.” People like Bing Cosby were making great livings and enjoying the benefits of fame on stage as Dean dealt cards in the underworld. So, through his contacts, lady luck blew on his dice, and Dino Paul Crocetti changed his name to Dean Martin with his smooth, velvety, laid-back singing style, along with his elegant stage charm and musical talent, that set him apart, he became one of the most beloved iconic entertainers in the 20th century.
Dean Martin hosted a TV Show called The Dean Martin Celebrity Roast from the stage at Bally‘s Grand Hotel and Casino, known then in the 70’s as the MGM Grand Casino. Here he is roasting his friend Frank Sinatra
Through my mother's record collection, I got to know artists like Bing Cosby, Dean Martin, and Frank Sinatra. Bing was Dad’s music. He was about 20 when Cosby launched his radio show. Along with Big Band, Cosby was his favorite. I remember the first time Randy met my Dad and talked to him about music; he got Glenn Miller or somebody to show Randy “what was real music, dancing in our living room in front of Randy with an invisible partner. On the other hand, my mom was twenty years younger than my father, so she adored Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, and Sammy Davis. Listening to music was a rich experience in my household. My older sister later added Elvis and The Beatles to the family vinyl collection. So that’s how I knew Dean. By listening to him, I loved his handsome movie star's food looks and calming voice. To the child in me, it was sweet and soothing. To my mother, it was purely romantic. Once in a while, I’d see him with his partner Jerry Lewis on some TV shows like Ed Sullivan, where he’d show his funny side. Still, by the mid-’60s, when The Dean Martin Show aired, he was mostly over for me, as my musical interests formed inspired by the popular 60’s British Invasion. What I remember the most about The Dean Martin Show was The Golddiggers, a group of beautiful female singers and dancers who complimented Martin’s stage masculinity. When my parents watched the show, my Dad watched The Golddiggers, and my Mom watched Dean. I went to my sister's room and listened to the Beatles. Dean’s show continued into the mid-70s —during my college days, so I was aware of Martin as I went through my musical fazes from The Beatles to Led Zeppelin to David Bowie.
Rare video of Dean Martin performing at the Sands Hotel Copa Room in the 60S
Ten years after I graduated from the University of California, Irvine, in 1976, I met Dean Martin backstage at Bally’s Grand in Las Vegas right in front of the same elevator I ran into Frank Sinatra leading to our dressing rooms. I was instructed not to speak to Frank, so I was also nervous about meeting Dean Martin. He waited by the elevator next to me, asking my name and what I performed. I politely told him and let him know what an honor it was to meet him. He invited me to catch one of his shows, and when the elevator arrived, he told me he’d see me around as he turned the corner and climbed the stairs instead of entering the elevator, to my surprise. I caught him entering his dressing room just as I exited the elevator. I thought to myself, “How perplexing?” Later, his security guard told me he didn’t like elevators because he suffered from claustrophobia and requested hotel rooms on a lower floor. So now all that made sense. Unbeknownst to me, Dean checked out our show a few times while sitting in the light booth. Probably, he wanted to see the beautiful showgirls, and you can’t blame him. Often, headliners like Tom Jones, Sammy Davis Jr, and Smokey Robinson would check out portions of our Jubilee! Show while waiting for their set. Unlike his old partner Jerry Lewis, who was striking and fun backstage, Dean was reserved and quiet. Debonair comes to my mind. So, once, I was invited to his dressing room for a piece of birthday cake. One of the Golddiggers was having a birthday. It was an informal get-together, and anyone walking by was invited in. So Dean approached me and asked me how I appeared and vanished during my performance. The magic blew him away. I was trying to get over the casualness of the moment when the only thing I could muster up during the impromptu moment was, “I’m not claustrophobic,” at which point he laughed and winked. I just stood there stunned, taking a sip of my drink. Those short few personal moments with Martin were like a dream. Despite the hard work and often disappointments of being a successful entertainer, moments like these capture your delight and honesty; they are so few and far between. Whenever Martin or any of these iconic headliners performed, I’d watch from the light booth when I could, studying and learning from them, trying to understand how they clicked. They all had one thing in common— they were each incredibly gifted with rare God-given talent. There were few places to see them live, but Vegas was one of them where many assembled, so it seemed like talent was a dime a dozen, when in fact, they were rare but concentrated in one place — Vegas, so they seemed like many. In the 80s, the Strip was still small and intimate, but it featured the finest entertainers. The crème de crème and I’m very blessed to have been there during that era.
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Underneath Dean Martin’s suave persona was a deep melancholy you could feel when near him or watching him perform. It was 1987 when his son Dean Paul, a fighter pilot, slammed his McDonnell F-4C-25-MC Phantom II into 11,501.6-foot San Gorgonio Mountain eerily on the same mountain Frank Sinatra’s mother’s private jet hit, killing her ten years before Dean Paul’s crash. Like Frank, when he learned of his mother’s crash, Dean Martin was devasted. Sinatra did his best to pull him out of his depression, showing him genuine empathy, but the effects of the loss robbed him of part of his being. It wasn’t long after Dean Paul’s death that I met him, so the blue mood I detected from his general vibe was associated with his son's misfortune. I guess the relationship between Frank and Dean deepened because of their shared grief; as a result, they became closer friends in a spiritual connection. Perhaps that inspired Frank Sinatra to reunite Dean and Jerry Lewis after a twenty-year estrangement due to some fallout neither could remember. Sinatra put Martin on stage during one of Jerry’s MDA Labor Day telethons. A shocked Jerry was seen yelling epithets at Sinatra, then melted into Dean’s strong, warm, authentic embrace on the Sahara Hotel and Casino stage. The two made up to a long-standing ovation in front of millions of viewers. With his arm around Jerry and Dean standing to his right, Frank stood together in union, absorbing a moment of spiritual alliance their riches and fame couldn't ever buy, True authentic friendship, and showing the world their vulnerability as humans. Magic; rare and precious.
Just because we're magic doesn't mean we're not real. Nic Stone
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