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wrong in Regan’s
eyes, so it was a waste of time to try and do anything that involved the local
authorities.  However, my dad added, “the cops suggested that I use a baseball
bat if I wanted results.” I immediately got the picture and knew that there was
no hope with the law.
    Baldy
Regan was Mr. North Side according to every single authority in Pittsburgh,
including the Mayor, and was considered a good person by everyone. Our family
was also related through marriage in some remote way to Baldy, but there was a
bitterness there that my dad didn’t want to explain, he just said, “Listen
honey, you’ve got to move right away.”
    Pittsburgh
as a city had various areas where people had their own government.  I knew
this, and I understood quite well that there was no way to fight it. It was
fixed; it was bought and paid for by clans of certain people in those areas.
And yes, the fix went all the way to the top of the chain. Fighting these fixed
areas of Pittsburgh was a losing battle, as they would destroy you if you went
against them.  You couldn’t go against the ruling clan on the North Side of
Pittsburgh, nor could you go against them if they existed in other sections of
the city. 
    I
called my landlord the next day and told him I wasn’t renewing my lease, and I
started looking for apartments outside the city in the suburbs of the North
Hills of Pittsburgh. 
    But
my reality was that I had to finish out my lease for the next few months in
this nightmare location. I called Rick and told him the entire story from
beginning to end, including the advice my dad had received from the cops that
there was nothing to be done about the thugs who were terrorizing my child and
me.
    I
had expected things to escalate since the empty beer keg came crashing through
my bedroom window, but now I was ready to turn the situation over to Rick. I
knew that Rick would protect us, no matter what.  He wouldn’t allow harm to
come to us.
    I
discovered shortly after the incident that some of the friends of the boys who
were drinking outside my window, were living in the small basement apartment
underneath mine.
    They
made sure I knew who they were by taunting me every day that I took my son out
in his stroller to the park, and my anxiety and fear began to interfere with my
work. I didn’t want to leave my son home with the babysitter during the day for
fear that these thugs would bother her and she wouldn’t know what to do.
    I
called Rick and he stopped over one afternoon with Anthony Capizzi Jr., Wango
Capizzi’s son. Rick had developed a close friendship with Anthony Jr. and the
two of them were inseparable at times, it seemed. They had secrets.
    Rick
said, “Listen, we’re going to be coming over here some evening to handle this
problem. We will knock on your door when we arrive, then you must stay in the
apartment no matter what you hear and remember to tell your friend Chris
upstairs to do the same. Stay in your apartment and lock your doors, both of
you, no matter what.”
    I
wanted to ask what they were going to do, but I didn’t ask. I just agreed to do
what they said.
    A
week later Rick and Anthony banged on my door. When I opened the door they both
seemed tense and serious. Rick told me to go upstairs and tell Chris to stay in
her apartment.  I ran up the steps and knocked on Chris’s door and said,
“Rick’s here; stay in your apartment no matter what you hear.”
    Chris
wanted to know what was going on, and I came back quickly with, “Shut up Chris,
don’t ask me questions right now, just lock your door and stay in your
apartment.”
    Chris
agreed, and as I walked away, I could hear her locking the door. 
    I
returned to my apartment, locked the door and sat on the sofa waiting.  I heard
thunder. I had to get up off the sofa and peek out the sun porch window to the
front street.
    I
saw Rick and Anthony standing outside while three gigantic Samoan males burst
through the front door. I couldn’t see beyond