Gotti Laid to Rest

John Gotti was laid to rest yesterday after a pass around the old neighborhood in an ornate funeral procession fitting the mob boss' larger-than-life style.

With helicopters swirling overhead and spectators lining the streets by the hundreds, Gotti's ornate, bronze-colored coffin was carried from Papavero Funeral Home in Maspeth to his home in Howard Beach, past his old headquarters in Ozone Park and finally to St. John Cemetery in Middle Village, where he was interred alongside his son, Frank.

At every pass along the route, the man who had headed the Gambino organized-crime family and spent the last decade in a federal penitentiary - sentenced to life imprisonment on his 1992 murder and racketeering conviction - was hailed as a hero. Gotti, 61, died Monday of cancer.

The motorcade numbered about 90 vehicles, including nearly 20 limousines bearing elaborate flower displays.

"This is a testament to his popularity, and to his memory," Gotti's longtime attorney, Bruce Cutler, said of the public turnout. "This is not a beatification ... it is just a question of paying respect to somebody who deserves it."

The crowd outside the funeral home began forming well before 8 a.m. and had swelled to about 400 by the time Gotti's coffin emerged shortly after 10:30. Earlier, the Rev. Richard Pfeiffer of St. Helen's Church in Howard Beach conducted a prayer service inside.

Gotti's widow, Victoria, shielded by men toting red umbrellas, was the first to exit the funeral home, followed shortly by daughter Victoria, her eyes red and puffy. Under gray skies, Gotti's coffin was then carried out by eight pallbearers - including his so-called "adopted son," businessman Lewis Kasman - who carried it solemnly to a waiting gray Cadillac hearse.

Among the honorary pallbearers was Gotti's brother Richard, a reputed capo in the Gambino crime family. Notable in their absence were Gotti's son, John A. Gotti, and brothers Gene and Peter, all of whom are currently jailed.

Some mourners tailed the procession, mixing in with the general traffic and occasionally honking their way through red lights to keep pace. Scattered knots of onlookers gathered along the motorcade route.

As Gotti's hearse eased down Cross Bay Boulevard into Howard Beach, it passed landmarks such as the New Park Pizzeria - site of an infamous 1986 racial assault that left one black man dead - and establishments that Gotti predated, like the Starbucks across the street from New Park.

In Ozone Park, the procession was met with applause by about 200 people, some of whom reached out tearfully to touch Gotti's hearse as it passed.

Another 200 or so spectators massed outside St. John, the resting place of such fabled mobsters as Carlo Gambino, Carmine Galante and Joe Colombo. Some had traveled from as far as Virginia and Toronto. Most brought cameras and camcorders to chronicle the proceedings.

"This is the end of an era, the end of a legend," said Linda Calvelo, 52, of Middle Village. "There should be more people like John Gotti. What they did to him was a grave injustice. He was no more corrupt than any politician in the U.S. government."

Those sentiments were echoed by most onlookers. Two lone protesters, including one with a sign that asked "Why Glorify?" were chased off before the convoy arrived.

"You need men like John Gotti in this world. He had authority. He was bold. He was brazen," said Lisa Provvedi, 38, who drove from Bethlehem, Pa., with a red rose for the dapper don known for his resplendent suits and ties. "If John Gotti was president, those Twin Towers would still be standing. The government is more corrupt than he ever was."

After another brief session of prayers inside the cemetery's Sacred Heart Chapel, Gotti was entombed on the third floor of the sprawling mausoleum, in an ornate unit with large, cathedral-style doors, a stained-glass window and oak-paneled crypts.

Gotti's final headquarters: St. John Cloister, Floor 3, Aisle C, Crypt 451, where the tomb bears the name "Gotti" in raised brass letters. He shares a tomb with his 12-year-old son, Frank, who was accidentally struck in 1980 by a car driven by a neighbor. The neighbor later disappeared, never to be heard from again; authorities said he probably was slain.

After family members had left, members of the public were briefly allowed up to the crypt. Some made the sign of the cross; a few dropped single roses at the tomb.

The family traveled for food and fellowship to daughter Victoria Gotti's multimillion-dollar estate in Old Westbury, where the driveway was filled with limousines and the children changed from their dress-up outfits into playclothes and ran about the front yard.

Though large, the funeral crowds were smaller than expected. A family friend who declined to give his name said many of Gotti's friends backed out at the last minute because they feared heavy surveillance by law-enforcement officials.

Many spectators expressed anger that Gotti was denied a Catholic funeral Mass by the Diocese of Brooklyn.

"I feel it was so unjust," said Margaret Colavito, 65, of Middle Village. "We have a forgiving God. We have all done things that were wrong in our own lifetime. And God forgives us, as he forgave John Gotti."

Related topic galleries: John Gotti, Organized Crime, Funeral Parlor and Crematorium, Virginia, Corporate Crime, Bethlehem (Lehigh, Pennsylvania), Death and Dying