Joey and Larry Gallo were some bad hombres. So bad, even most of the mafia wanted nothing to do with them in the 1960s and ‘70s.
Murder, extortion, armed robbery—all in a day’s work for these guys.
But if they were so bad, why do so many literary types come to admire them, especially Joey? Bob Dylan, for example, early in his career, thought of Crazy Joey Gallo as more folk hero than outlaw.
I’ve now read Tom Folsom’s rich, colorful history of the Gallo Brothers, The Mad Ones, but I still don’t get their appeal. Hopefully, the author can clear up the mystery.