John DiTullio

John DiTullio, better known as Skinny Razor, appears first as the proprietor of a South Philadelphia lounge and a discreet source of illegal credit and gambling. The memoir’s shift in how Frank Sheeran understands him—from familiar neighborhood businessman to Angelo Bruno’s underboss—makes DiTullio a vivid example of how the local face of the criminal world could obscure its hierarchy.

Identity and Neighborhood Reputation

DiTullio owned the Friendly Lounge at Tenth and Washington, where Sheeran’s Italian co-workers from Food Fair gathered. Those workers pushed money on their routes for him, but at first they did not identify him to Sheeran as a major gangster. His nickname, Skinny Razor, seemed almost to contradict the idea of a powerful boss; Sheeran remembers wondering what kind of important man would carry such a name.

The name had a literal origin. DiTullio had owned a live-chicken store, where customers chose a chicken from a row of cages and he killed it with a straight razor. His lean build suited the nickname too: Sheeran described him as about six feet one, unusually tall for downtown. DiTullio was well liked and had a strong sense of humor, giving the tough-sounding name a familiar neighborhood presence rather than an immediately menacing one.

Lending and Bookmaking

Through the men Sheeran worked with, DiTullio’s operation reached people who needed small sums between paychecks and lacked access to credit. Sheeran described a typical loan of $100 repaid in weekly installments of $12 over ten weeks. If a borrower could pay only $2 one week, the remaining amount still came due and was added to the debt; the charge was called the vig, short for vigorish. The arrangement could appear to provide a practical service, but Sheeran recognized that pushing the money was illegal loan-sharking.

After his co-workers introduced him to DiTullio at the Friendly Lounge, Sheeran began pushing money along his own Food Fair route. He characterized it as easy money requiring no muscle, a description that captures how ordinary work and illicit business could occupy the same circuits. DiTullio’s other side business was bookmaking. Sheeran judged his success by the deference people showed when they came to speak with him: DiTullio seemed like an officer among enlisted men, even while his criminal standing remained unspoken.

Manner and Local Authority

DiTullio’s authority was paired, in Sheeran’s account, with a measure of leniency. He called people mother affectionately and could make them laugh. If someone made a mistake, Sheeran recalled, DiTullio might give that person a break for a misdemeanor; a more serious offense was different. The kindness had limits: he would not take the offender under his protection simply because he had shown leniency.

That combination—social warmth, business discipline, and boundaries—helps explain why DiTullio could be respected without presenting himself to Sheeran’s circle as an obvious crime boss. His standing was legible in the way people behaved around him before Sheeran understood the position that produced it.

Rank Revealed Through Connections

After the Apalachin meeting exposed the reach of the Mafia to Sheeran, he reinterpreted DiTullio’s place in Philadelphia. He now knew that DiTullio was Angelo Bruno’s underboss, the number two man in the city. The Friendly Lounge’s unremarkable neighborhood setting had concealed a much higher rank than Sheeran had initially suspected.

DiTullio also shared a social setting with Whispers DiTullio, who sat with him and his wife at the Latin Casino on Sunday nights. The shared surname is not evidence of a family relationship. Sheeran instead suggests that Whispers DiTullio wanted people to think he occupied a status comparable to Skinny Razor’s. The contrast underscores the difference between appearing close to power and actually holding authority within its hierarchy.