How Ex-Con Larry Lawton’s Life Has Inspired
Thousands of Kids to Stay Out of Prison
A Goodfella Becomes a Good Guy
How America’s most notorious jewel thief got rich,
got caught, and got his life back on track
Founder of Lawton911 and the Reality Check Program
7 Time NY Times Bestselling Author
Gangster Redemption – Table of Content
Chapter 1 Who Wants to F*ck Miss Armellino…..3
Chapter 2 Earner for the Mob……25
Chapter 3 Loyalty………………….48
Chapter 4 The Daytona $800,000……….58
Chapter 5 Diamonds Are a Guy’s Best Friend…..79
Chapter 6 The Single Life……..94
Chapter 7 The Last Heist……119
Chapter 8 Journey to Atlanta…….132
Chapter 9 The Worst of the Worst…..145
Chapter 10 An Atmosphere of Violence….16
Chapter 11 Coleman and Jesup………..185
Chapter 12 The Abu Gahrib of America……..198
Chapter 13 Yazoo and Forest City………..219
Chapter 14 Free At Last………….231
Chapter 15 The Beginning of the Realty Check Program…..246
Chapter 16 The Realty Check Program Takes Off…..258
Chapter 17 Spreading the Word…..273
Chapter 18 The Reality Check Program…….289
Chapter 19 It Works……..311
Who Wants To F*ck Miss Armellino
From his jail cell in the hole, he could hear the tier door open. The sound of footsteps was getting louder.
They’re coming for me, he thought.
“Cuff up, Lawton, he was ordered.
He knew better.
“What did I do?” Lawton wanted to know.
The four huge guards the size of gorillas opened his cell door and charged at him. They jumped him and beat him. His face bled. His body hurt. They didn’t care.
After they beat him they carried him out of the cell, put him in a room, stripped him naked, and strapped him down in a four-point position so he was spread-eagled. They cuffed each leg and arm to a post.
His eyes, half-closed from the beating, saw the hulking figure of one of the guards standing over him. He could see the guard unzip his fly. He took out his penis, and he let loose a stream of urine that splashed against Lawton’s face.
As the guard was peeing, he said tauntingly, “Lawton, you keep writing senators. You think you’re going anywhere?”
Lawton closed his eyes, and he could taste the salty urine running down his face. One of the guards then spat out a large gob of spittle on him as he walked past.
“You think you’re bad, Lawton,” said one of the guards. “Keep writing senators.”
Strapped down, immobile, naked, and covered with pee, he was left there alone with his thoughts for more than three and a half hours.
This may well have been the lowest point in Larry Lawton’s life.
At one time he had been tight with the Gambino mob. He had been a big earner for the mob, stealing over $15 million in jewels in a string of jewelry store robberies. His take was millions of dollars. He lived like a king.
I was a millionaire, thought Lawton. I owned a limo, horses, homes, expensive cars.
Once he had a family, a beautiful wife and two beautiful children. He had lost it all.
Woozy from the beating, strapped naked to a steel bed frame, the smell of urine in his nostrils, he thought to himself, How did I end up like this?
When Larry Lawton was growing up, he lived at 3255 Hatting Place in the Bronx in the shadow of the Throgs Neck Bridge. From the back of his modest two-story bungalow home he could see the trucks and cars going over the bridge toward Queens, and he could hear the horns and the sounds of the traffic.
His Locust Point neighborhood was Irish, German, and Italian. It was a neighborhood with its fair share of bookies and gangsters, but it was also a place where if you were a kid the old ladies would watch out for you. If you did something wrong on the block, your mother somehow would find out about it.
It was also a place where strangers weren’t tolerated and blacks and Puerto Ricans could get hurt.
“You couldn’t come into our neighborhood,” said Lawton. “This was the Seventies. If somebody we didn’t know came down to the jetties to go fishing under the Throgs Neck bridge, we’d take Molotov cocktails and throw them at their feet. The fire would be on the rocks all around them, and that would make them jump in the water. Nobody was allowed in our neighborhood.”
One family that lived near the Lawtons was the wacko O’Reillys.
“It was a big old, Irish family with six kids. They were all crazy. A psycho family. I loved them. They had this old station wagon with the muffler dragging, and the dog chasing the car. They had a rough time of it with money. Billy Joe, who was my brother’s age, once went into the local bowling alley, the Fiesta Lanes, and he left wearing the bowling shoes. My buddy Dennis said to him, `Billy, you have the shoes on.’
“He said, `These are better than mine.’ So he took the shoes.
“One time Billy Joe was playing football with us, and his mother Wilma came out and yelled to Billy, “Come home and put up the Christmas lights.”
“Fuck you, Wilma,” he said.
“Billy, go home.”
She said to me, `Larry, give me that football.’
“Don’t give her the football,” Billy Joe yelled. He turned to his mother and said, `I’ll break every window in the fucking house.’
“I didn’t know what to do. I threw the football up in the air.
“One time Wilma broke a stickball bat over son Eddie’s shoulder.
“He said, `What are you going to do now, Wilma?’
“She came out with a metal pipe, hit him with it, and he was down for the count. Another son broke his arm and didn’t even bother to get it fixed. He played sports left handed and became ambidextrous. They were so nuts, but they were tough—and loyal as the day is long.”
Gangster Redemption Coming Out Soon……
You will find this book, truthful, heartbreaking and inspiring. Larry Lawton gave his heart and soul to this book and wanted to thank everyone for their patience while he completed this two year project.