If you walk down South Broad Street today, you might see a guy grabbing a cheesesteak at Skinny Joey’s and think nothing of it. But thirty years ago? That same street was a shooting gallery. People weren't just looking over their shoulders; they were diving under cars.
The mob war: philadelphia vs. the mafia wasn't some cinematic masterpiece with choreographed fights. It was messy. It was loud. It was honestly a bit pathetic at times, watching grown men try to blow each other up and failing because they didn't know how to wire a car bomb. But for the people living in South Philly in the early '90s, the danger was very real.
How the Peace Rotted Away
To understand why things got so bloody, you have to look at what happened before the 1990s. For decades, Angelo Bruno—the "Gentle Don"—ran things. He was old school. He hated the heat that came with murder and mostly wanted everyone to just make money quietly. Then, in 1980, someone blew his head off with a shotgun while he sat in his car.
Everything changed then.
After Bruno died, the "Chicken Man" Phil Testa took over, only to get vaporized by a nail bomb on his own front porch a year later. That cleared the way for Nicodemo "Little Nicky" Scarfo. If Bruno was a diplomat, Scarfo was a tyrant. He was paranoid, greedy, and basically turned the Philadelphia crime family into a slaughterhouse. By the time the feds finally locked Scarfo up for life in the late '80s, the organization was a hollowed-out shell.
There was a massive power vacuum. And as we know, nature—and the Mafia—abhors a vacuum.
The Sicilian vs. the South Philly Kid
By 1991, the New York families decided they needed an adult in the room to fix Philadelphia. They picked John Stanfa. He was a Sicilian immigrant, a guy who had actually been in the car when Angelo Bruno was killed. Stanfa was a "zips" guy—old-fashioned, secretive, and he spoke better Italian than English.
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But there was a problem. A group of younger guys, led by Joseph "Skinny Joey" Merlino, didn't want a boss from the old country.
Merlino was the complete opposite of Stanfa. He was flashy. He loved the camera. He’d walk into a courtroom like he was headed to a red carpet event. He and his crew—guys like Michael "Mikey Chang" Ciancaglini and Steven Mazzone—basically told Stanfa to kick rocks. They refused to pay "street tax" and started running their own rackets.
That's when the mob war: philadelphia vs. the mafia really kicked into high gear.
Blood on the Schuylkill
The violence wasn't subtle. We’re talking about high-speed chases and daylight hits. In August 1993, Merlino and Mikey Chang were walking down 6th Street when two gunmen opened fire. Merlino took a bullet to the leg and buttocks, but he lived. Mikey Chang wasn't so lucky; he died right there on the sidewalk.
A few weeks later, the Merlino crew struck back. They waited for John Stanfa and his son, Joseph, on the Schuylkill Expressway. Imagine driving to work and seeing a van pull up next to a Mercedes, with gunmen spraying the car with semi-automatic fire. It was absolute chaos. Stanfa escaped, but his son was hit in the jaw.
The city was losing its mind.
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The feds were watching the whole thing, of course. They had wiretaps in Stanfa’s lawyer’s office, in social clubs, everywhere. They heard Stanfa talking about how he wanted to "cut out the tongue" of his enemies. It was brutal stuff. But the Merlino side was just as reckless. They weren't professional assassins; they were kids with guns who grew up watching The Godfather and thought they were invincible.
The "Comedy of Errors" and the Fall
One of the craziest parts of the mob war: philadelphia vs. the mafia involves a hitman named John Veasey. He was a guy Stanfa hired to do the dirty work. At one point, Veasey tried to torch a getaway car but accidentally set his own hand on fire. He ended up in the hospital, telling the cops he had a "barbecue accident."
They didn't believe him.
Veasey eventually flipped and became one of the star witnesses against Stanfa. By 1994, the FBI had enough. They swept up Stanfa and two dozen of his associates. Stanfa got five consecutive life sentences.
With Stanfa gone, Joey Merlino basically "won" the war by default. He installed an old-timer named Ralph Natale as the boss—mostly to keep the feds' eyes off himself—while he ran things as the underboss. But that didn't last long either. Natale became the first sitting Mafia boss to turn government informant in 1999.
Why We Still Talk About It
You might wonder why this matters now. The Mafia isn't what it used to be. But the mob war: philadelphia vs. the mafia changed how law enforcement handles organized crime. It showed that the "broken windows" of the underworld—the flashy behavior and public violence—were just as dangerous as the secret handshakes.
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Joey Merlino eventually did his time, got out, and moved to Florida. He’s got a podcast now. He talks about sports and Italian food. He swears he’s not in the life anymore. Whether you believe that or not, the era of the South Philly street wars is over.
But if you talk to the older folks in the neighborhood, they remember. They remember the sound of the shots on the expressway. They remember the fear that someone might get caught in the crossfire just for being in the wrong social club at the wrong time.
What the History Teaches Us
Looking back at the mob war: philadelphia vs. the mafia, there are a few clear takeaways for anyone interested in true crime or local history:
- Generational Gaps Kill: The conflict was as much about "old world" vs. "new world" as it was about money. Stanfa couldn't understand the media-heavy, loud style of the Merlino crew.
- Flash Draws Heat: Merlino’s celebrity status made him a legend in the neighborhood, but it also made him a permanent target for the FBI.
- The "Commission" is Dead: This war showed that the New York families no longer had the absolute power to dictate what happened in other cities.
If you're interested in digging deeper into the Philly underworld, you should check out George Anastasia's reporting. He was the guy on the ground for the Inquirer when all this was going down, and his books like The Last Gangster give a perspective you won't get anywhere else. You can also visit the sites of some of these infamous spots in South Philly, though many are now trendy boutiques or quiet apartments.
The streets have moved on, but the history is baked into the bricks.