Franzese - This thing of ours: how faith saved my Mafia marriage

This Thing of Ours

How Faith Saved My Mafia Marriage

Cammy Franzese

2012 by Camille Franzese

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Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.

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All scriptures are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation. 1996. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. All rights reserved.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Franzese, Cammy, 1963
This thing of ours : how faith saved my Mafia marriage / Cammy Franzese.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-1-59555-365-2 (pbk.)
1. Franzese, Cammy, 1963- 2. Women and the mafia--United States--Case studies. 3. Mafia--United States--Case studies. 4. Wives--United States--Biography. 5. Christian women--United States--Biography. I. Title.
HV6446.F717 2012
364.1092--dc23

2011033961

Printed in the United States of America

12 13 14 15 16 QGF 6 5 4 3 2 1

Dedication

To my brothers, Dean, Joaquin, Cuauhtemoc, and Che. Half of the skeleton crew. I will always love you guys and thank God for how He has blessed you all to be serving Him in your ministry. I know Mom continues to smile on you all.

To my sisters, Sabrina and Raquel. We will never replace the hole in our hearts left when Mom went to heaven, but I thank God that we have each other. I love you both so much.

To my dad. I believe Mom has seen her prayers answered with you. You are a terrific grandfather, and I know how much you love all your children. I thank you for helping to make me the woman I am today. I love you, Dad.

To my precious mother. Not a day goes by when I dont think about you and hold back a tear. I miss you so much. Both in this life and in your eternal life, you have been my guardian angel. You have prayed your entire family and my husband into Gods grace and service. I know I will see your beautiful face again, Mom. Thank you for being everything to me. I love you more than words can say.

To my Nana and Tata, thank you for all the amazing summers we spent together. They were all very special to me. I love you both so very much.

To my beautiful daughters, Miquelle, Amanda, and Julia. You are all my precious angels. The three of you have been my rock through good times and bad. I would not have made it through all the tough times without you. I am so very proud of you for the young women you have become. I pray that God always keeps us close. I love you all so very much.

To my son, Michael Jr. You were such a joy to me in your childhood, Mike. You gave me so many reasons to smile. I know you have had some struggles, but I also know God will see you through them. I pray for you every day, and I will always be there for you. I love you with all my heart. I am proud to be your mother.

To my husband, Michael. I thank you for loving me as you do. For always putting me first in your life. For staying strong through all of your struggles. For the man you are and for the servant of God you have become. Without you in my life, there would be no story. I love you, forever and ever and always, until death do us part.

Contents

1
Locked Up

I shuffled down the gray corridor, my wrists tightly bound by steel handcuffs that dug into my skin. Silent tears streamed down my face, turning it into a makeup-smeared wetland, and my shoulders were shaking. But I knew I couldnt let my crying be audible. I had to fake some semblance of strength, so I looked straight ahead, making eye contact with no one. The individual jail cells that lined the hallway on each side were brimming with women in the same indistinguishable beige (and very itchy) uniform I was wearing. They didnt hesitate to stare me down and obnoxiously greet me. The mesh of high-pitched voices, giggles, and whistles rang loudly in my ears.

Hey you, what are you doing here?

Lookit that beauty!

What are you? A drug dealer? You from Colombia?

Nah, shes the wife of a drug dealer.

The women continued their catcalls and sarcastic comments as I was shoved into a private cell. A million thoughts ran through my mind. Whats going on? Does this have anything to do with Michael? And what about the kids? What is going to happen to them? What on earth am I doing here? What am I doing here?now, that was the million-dollar question.

Only a few hours earlier I was getting my three children, Miquelle, Amanda, and Michael Jr., up and ready for the day. It was the beginning of 1992, and my husband, notorious mobster Michael Franzese, was in prison for the second time. A former caporegime (high-ranking member) in the Colombo crime family, Michael had served four years in jail beginning in 1985, the same year we got married. He had copped a plea to racketeering and conspiracy and was given a ten-year prison sentence. When he got out in 1989, after serving only a partial sentence, he landed himself back in jail thirteen months later on a parole violation. He would stay there another four years. That morning, as I shook my kids out of their nighttime haze, telling them for the umpteenth time to wake up, my husband was sitting in solitary confinement in a prison across town. It was true solitary confinement, mainly for his safety.

A knock interrupted the early-morning frenzy. The kids were still in their rooms, making feeble attempts to get up. When I opened the front door, I was disgusted to find Detective Prieto standing there. I knew him well because of my husband. This guy had been on Michaels tail from the very beginning. Matter of fact, he was the one who had arrested Michael the first time around. He was a very mean and vindictive man who didnt hide the fact that he had it in for our family.

Camille Franzese, we have a warrant for your arrest, he said without the slightest bit of emotion.

What?

My mouth dropped to the floor, and I started choking up. I heard little Michael call out from his bedroom, Mommy, who is it? Whos at the door? My hands shook as I told the detective, Give me a minute. Let me get the kids taken care of. I left him standing impatiently at the front of my house as I panicked. I had no idea what was going on.

My saving grace was our housekeeper. Ofelia never spent the night at our house, but for some reason, she had stayed with us the night before. I believe it was divine interventionGods way of preparing me and my family for what was to come. Theres been a lot of that in our lives. Its been impossible not to see the hand of Providence sweeping in every which way throughout my journey as Michaels wife and my childrens mother.

I had to act fast. I ran up the stairs and found Ofelia opening the curtains in one of the kids rooms, inviting in the warm sunlight. I asked her to get the kids dressed, drive them to school, and call my mother; Mom would handle everything else. I couldnt say much more and told her I had to leave, that it was an emergency. Ofelia didnt speak English very well, but she could read the panic in my eyes. She nodded and set off to the tasks at hand.