Skip to main content

DID FRANK MATTHEWS GET AWAY WITH IT?

  By Jeff Burbank It was the first week of January 1973. Frank Matthews and his young girlfriend had just spent the holidays in Las Vegas and were about to board a flight to Los Angeles. In the previous several years, Matthews had made many trips to Las Vegas, carrying suitcases full of cash to be secretly laundered at casinos for a fee of 15 to 18 percent. This time, federal drug enforcement agents were waiting and placed him and the woman under arrest at McCarran International Airport. Two weeks before, U.S. prosecutors in Brooklyn, New York, had issued an arrest warrant for Matthews, the top black drug kingpin in America whose heroin and cocaine trafficking gang of mostly African-American dealers extended to 21 states on the Eastern Seaboard. He was charged with trying to sell about 40 pounds of cocaine in Miami from April to September 1972, a small fraction of the drugs he’d pushed since 1968. The feds believed Matthews had millions in currency stashed away in safety deposit boxes

Alpo Martinez murder in NYC leaves son fearing for his safety





By  and 


The grisly weekend rubout of a Harlem crime kingpin-turned-informant continued to reverberate Monday, with the victim’s grieving son searching for answers and fearing for his own safety.

No arrests have been made in the bloody shooting of Alberto “Alpo” Martinez, a notorious New York City drug lord, who went from ruling an East Coast empire to cooperating with federal authorities to save his own skin.


Martinez, 55, went into protective custody following his release from federal prison on murder charges thanks to serving as a government witness. But if federal authorities couldn’t keep Martinez from a killer’s clutches, his son, Randy Harvey, wonders what chance he has of staying safe.


“It was like a student and a teacher, you know?” Harvey told the Daily News of his relationship with his father. “The stuff that he wanted to teach me when I was little, but he wasn’t there. He told me how to be safe. It’s making me wonder, am I really safe? He’s a prime example of someone who went into protective custody, changed his name and everything and it still caught up with him. There’s still no way to really be safe.


He was so big. I don’t even know who hates him.”


Harvey did not grow up knowing his father, and the two only began a relationship years later when a DNA test confirmed the connection. Harvey had long suspected Martinez was his father, especially when he was targeted by other inmates during his own prison stint, including a time he was cut by an inmate he didn’t even know.


Still, Harvey said he was proud when the results finally showed their blood relationship.

“It would have been worse if I went through all the stuff I went through and he wasn’t my dad,” Harvey said. “He used to try to teach me with tough love. A lot of people think that because he’s a kingpin, I was born with a silver spoon. But it wasn’t like that because he wasn’t around. I used to give him money. We used to look out for each other.”


They spoke in the afternoon before his death.


“I spoke to him earlier that day, because my birthday is tomorrow,” Harvey said, recalling jokes over an expected “nice gift” from his dad.


That was the last time they spoke.


Harvey said he found out about the shooting when a friend from the block rang his cell phone.


“He called me immediately because he knew my father’s truck,” he said.


Martinez’s truck rear-ended another vehicle early Sunday morning on Frederick Douglass Blvd. The driver of the other ride told police he heard the shots but didn’t see what happened, sources said. Martinez’s Dodge Ram then crashed into three parked cars by W. 147th St., sources said. Police found Martinez gasping for air in the truck, shot six times in his arm and once in his chest, sources said. He also had a graze wound on the left side of his chin. Someone had blasted him through the driver’s side window.


“I started looking up stuff and it was like, ‘Alpo Martinez was shot.’ But he doesn’t even go by that name anymore,” Harvey said.


Police identified the victim Sunday as Abraham Rodriguez, of Lewiston Maine, a name seemingly given to Martinez as part of the witness protection program. A high-ranking police source confirmed the victim was actually Alpo.


Harvey assumed his father was in Harlem “partying and seeing girls.”


“He was living his life. I think he kind of picked up where he left off, once he was off parole, I think he just wanted to live a normal life for a change. He wasn’t flashy like before, he barely even got his hair cut. He didn’t have Instagram, he didn’t have Facebook. He didn’t want to do interviews. They offered him millions of dollars.”


Harvey said his dad had indeed been living in Maine, and was just visiting Harlem. He may have had a pad in New Jersey, too.


Harvey, who lives in another state, took to social media to share his grief about the Halloween shooting.


“I just lost my dad on my favorite holiday, which is two days away from my birthday on top of me having COVID-19, ” Harvey posted on Instagram. “I’m speechless.”


In another post, Harvey said he had worked out some of his differences with his dad.


“They can say what they want, but I know what I know, and I forgave you for everything except leaving me here with this hate alone,” he wrote.


Martinez had his fair share of enemies. He notoriously shot and killed his former business partner and best friend Rich Porter, 24, in 1990 because he suspected Porter was cutting in on his deals.

 

Members of Porter’s family were out drinking champagne when news of Martinez’ death swept through Harlem.


Harvey said he had mixed feelings about the celebration.


“A part of me is like, ‘Ya’ll didn’t even do it, so what are you celebrating?’” he said. “And the other part of me is like, ‘How does that make it right?’”


Martinez’s life story served as the basis of the 2002 film, “Paid in Full” starring rapper Cam’ron, who played a character based on Martinez. Mekhi Phifer played a character based on Porter. Rapper Jay-Z was among the movie’s producers.


Authorities said Martinez’ cocaine empire stretched from New York to Washington, D.C., where he was arrested in 1991 before confessing to 14 murders. He became a government witness to avoid a life sentence and was reportedly released into witness protection in 2015.


“I was shocked and very saddened by the news that it happened,” said Thomas Abbenante, a Washington, D.C. lawyer who represented Martinez in 1991.


Martinez surfaced in 2019 in Harlem, talking to a crowd of people on the street, video posted on Instagram shows.


Harvey said his dad had long tried to make amends with the Porter family, apologizing and even giving them money.


“He really wanted all of this to go away,” Harvey said. “He was changing his life. You could see the elevation, his mindset changed. Something inside him changed.”




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Michael Fray Salters: The tragic story of the DC King Pin Ambassador

  Michael Anthony Salters was born the day after Christmas in 1953, and raised uptown in NW Washington D.C. on Webster Street. Young Michael grew up believing he had to be a stable figure to keep his family afloat and together. He took it upon himself to provide for his loved ones the soonest that he could. Salters hungered for money since he was a kid, and acquired it however he could. He and his friends would run around the streets doing whatever to get paid. Mike was part of two local gangs as a youth: the Marlboro 500, then the Rock boys. As Mike got older he made a habit of armed robbery. And heroin. He developed a love for boxing as well, which trained him to channel his aggression. He became competitive and wouldn’t back down from fighting anyone with his hands. Throughout his life, Salters gained the respect of other fighters around him, including professional boxers who held championship titles. People called Salters “ Fray Bean ” originally because of his skinny build when he

DID FRANK MATTHEWS GET AWAY WITH IT?

  By Jeff Burbank It was the first week of January 1973. Frank Matthews and his young girlfriend had just spent the holidays in Las Vegas and were about to board a flight to Los Angeles. In the previous several years, Matthews had made many trips to Las Vegas, carrying suitcases full of cash to be secretly laundered at casinos for a fee of 15 to 18 percent. This time, federal drug enforcement agents were waiting and placed him and the woman under arrest at McCarran International Airport. Two weeks before, U.S. prosecutors in Brooklyn, New York, had issued an arrest warrant for Matthews, the top black drug kingpin in America whose heroin and cocaine trafficking gang of mostly African-American dealers extended to 21 states on the Eastern Seaboard. He was charged with trying to sell about 40 pounds of cocaine in Miami from April to September 1972, a small fraction of the drugs he’d pushed since 1968. The feds believed Matthews had millions in currency stashed away in safety deposit boxes

The Consignment King - Richard 'Fritz' Simmons

  Richard Simmons is a legend that was born in Charleston, South Carolina. In the 1970s, he and his family moved to New York City. They settled themselves on 112 th Street  in Harlem. One of their fellow tenants in the same building, 109, was a woman who originally worked in the city as a nurse. She was known on the streets as “ Queen Bee ”. * Simmons  (c. 1970s)  * She earned that alias through hustling. Bee also introduced Simmons to the local heroin trade because she was connected with the Lucchese family of the Mafia. With her supply and guidance, Richard was earning $60,000 per week. Their relationship inevitably dissolved, in part due to Queen Bee’s cocaine addiction. Simmons’ block of 112 th Street  saw other legends come before him in addition to Queen Bee, like Horse and Jerome Harris. But now there was space for a new big shot to step up. In the midst of exploring his other options for a plug, Simmons purchased a bad batch of drugs from one supplier and got shot 5 times when