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One of the most fearsome of the gunmen that Al Capone
kept on his payroll was “Machine Gun” Jack McGurn, a
rough and tumble young Italian man who earned his
nickname not from his prowess with a tommy-gun, but for
his speed in the boxing ring. McGurn killed without
thought and was believed to have been one of the killers
responsible for the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. And
those who later killed him probably knew it for they
left behind a reminder of that bloody day when his body
was discovered in a West Side bowling alley.
James Vincenzo Gibaldi, or "Jack McGurn" as he later
became known, was born in Chicago's Little Italy in
1904. He grew up as a clean-cut kid from the slums who
excelled in school and was an excellent boxer. A
promoter managed to get him into the ranks of
professional fighters and at the man's suggestion James
adopted the ring name of "Jack McGurn." He seemed to
have a great career ahead, until his father, Angelo De
Mora, a grocer with a store on Halsted Street, ran into
trouble with the terrible Genna brothers.
At the start of Prohibition, the Gennas had transformed
all of Little Italy into a vast commercial area of
alcohol cookers. Stills were set up in almost every
home, franchised by the Gennas, making homemade rotgut
whiskey that was popular in neighborhood speakeasies.
Angelo De Mora sold sugar to the Gennas for their
operations, a relatively safe enterprise until some of
his competitors shot Angelo to death in front of his
store on January 8, 1923.
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"Machine Gun" Jack McGurn |
McGurn never got back into the ring. He was only 19 years old,
but had a mother and siblings to take care of. He picked up a
gun and started working for Al Capone, who regarded him as his
most trustworthy gunman. He was given the most dangerous and
grisly assignments and within a few years, "Machine Gun" Jack
McGurn was the most feared of Capone's killers.
McGurn relished his work, especially when six of his targets
were part of the Genna mob, which he blamed for his father'
death. In just over a month's time, he wiped out all of the
Gennas' top men. He learned that one of these men had referred
to his father as a "nickel and dimer." So, after each of them
had been machine-gunned to death, McGurn pressed a nickel into
each of their palms, his sign of contempt and a trademark that
would be forever linked to his murders.
McGurn continued to earn his pay and his fearsome reputation.
Joe Aiello's feud with Capone over West Side beer territories
reached its peak when Aiello offered a $50,000 reward for
Capone's murder. He imported four out-of-town killers to do the
job when no one in Chicago dared to cross Capone. Days after
their arrival, the four men met the wrath of Jack McGurn. All of
them were found riddled with machine gun bullets --- and were
found with nickels pressed into their palms.
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When not working for Capone, McGurn frequented Chicago's
hottest jazz spots and managed to become part owner of
several of them through intimidation and violence. By
the time he was 23, McGurn owned pieces of at least five
nightclubs and managed a number of other lucrative
properties. He also managed the Green Mill, the city’s
hottest jazz club, for Capone and was later given 25
percent of its ownership in exchange for his loyalty.
This became his usual hangout and he could often be
found sipping liquor in one of the green-plush
upholstered booths. |
McGurn was fiercely loyal to the Green Mill and in 1927, he
became enraged when the club's star attraction, singer and
comedian Joe E. Lewis, refused to renew his contract, stating
that he was going to work for a rival club. Lewis opened to a
packed house at the New Rendezvous the next night. Days later,
McGurn took Lewis aside as he was about to enter his hotel, the
New Commonwealth. McGurn had two friends with him and all three
of them had their hands shoved in their pockets. McGurn told
Lewis that they missed him at the club and that "the old Mill's
a morgue without you." Lewis assured him that he would find
another headliner and when McGurn told him that he had made his
point and needed to come back, Lewis refused. He bravely turned
his back on the killer and walked away.
On November 27, three of McGurn's men stormed into Lewis' hotel
suite, beat him and then cut his throat almost from ear to ear.
The comedian survived the attack, managed to recover his singing
voice and continued with his career. Capone, unhappy with
McGurn's actions, but unable to rebuke one of his best men, was
said to have advanced Lewis $10,000 so that the performer could
get back on his feet.
A short time later, McGurn's own career was almost cut short.
Two machine gunners for George Moran, Pete and Frank Gusenberg
(both killed during the St. Valentine's Day Massacre), caught up
with McGurn in a phone booth inside the McCormick Inn. Several
bursts from their Tommy guns almost finished McGurn for good but
major surgery, and a long period of secluded convalescence,
saved the killer.
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In early February 1929, McGurn visited Capone at his
Palm Island, Fla., home for a discussion about the North
Side gang run by George Moran. Ten days later, the St.
Valentine's Day Massacre took place.
McGurn has always been connected to the massacre,
although that connection was never legally proven. A
teenager named George Brichet was walking past the
garage when five men entered on February 14. Bricket
overheard one of the men call another “Mac”. Bricket
picked out McGurn's photograph from police mug shots.
Armed with an arrest warrant, police broke into McGurn's
suite at the Stevens Hotel on February 27. As they
hauled the gangster away, they were cussed out by
McGurn's sweetheart, showgirl Louise Rolfe. The press
dubbed her "the blonde alibi" and she swore that McGurn
was with her at the time of the murders. McGurn was
later indicted but he married Louise soon after and
thanks to this, she was not required to testify against
him.
McGurn's defense attorneys insisted four times that
their client be brought to trial. Each time, the
prosecution stated that it was not ready to proceed.
Under Illinois law, the prosecution was only allowed
four legal delays of this kind. After that, they had to
drop the case. McGurn was set free on December 2, 1929.
McGurn's likely role in the St. Valentine's Day Massacre
led to Capone putting him "on ice." He began to be seen
less and less with the boss and was not seen at all
during Capone's tax trial, when the job of bodyguard was
given over to Phil D'Andrea.
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McGurn and Louise Rolfe, McGurn's so-called
"Blonde Alibi" |

Last photo of "Machine Gun"
Jack McGurn |
Once Capone went to prison, McGurn's prestige started to
slip. He busied himself with his nightclubs, most of
which went under during the Depression and Louise left
him when his money ran out. Alone and flat broke; McGurn
met his end on February 13, 1936, the eve of the
anniversary of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre.
McGurn was in the middle of his third frame at the
Avenue Recreation Parlor, a bowling alley located at 805
North Milwaukee Ave., when remnants from the old Moran
gang finally caught up with him. |

805 N. Milwaukee Avenue
today, site of the former Avenue Recreation Parlor |
Five men burst into the bowling alley and while three of
them pretended to rob the place, the other two machine-gunned
McGurn to death on the hardwood lanes.
At the front desk,
the killers had left a comic valentine with his name on it,
which read:
You've lost your job.
You've lost your dough,
Your jewels and handsome houses.
But things could be worse, you know.
You haven't lost your trousers.
Legend has it that, in the palm of "Machine Gun" Jack McGurn's
right hand, the killers were said to have placed a solitary
nickel.
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