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‘Married to the Mob,’ but under a chuppah: A new memoir details a Jewish family’s crime ties
(New York Jewish Week) — The Geiks weren’t your typical Bronx working-class Jewish family.
One brother ran a mob-protected trucking company in Manhattan’s Garment District. Another brother, an NYPD detective, chauffeured organized crime couriers around the city with illicit cash. Their kid sister visited a Las Vegas casino where the tween was set up with a couple of slot machines in a private room.
And a close family friend was sent up the river for killing a notorious Jewish gangster.
Meet the family whose close ties to Jewish gangsters are chronicled in “Uncle Charlie Killed Dutch Schultz,” a memoir just published by Alan Geik.
Dutch Schultz was the mob name of Arthur Flegenheimer, the Jewish bootlegger and numbers racket kingpin who left this mortal coil in October 1935 at the Palace Chop House in Newark. The triggermen were two Jews, members of the organized crime group Murder Inc. Mendy Weiss and Charles “Bug” Workman, the Uncle Charlie of the memoir’s title, did the hit.
Workman, who reportedly killed more than 20 people before pleading guilty to the murder of Dutch Schultz, was not a blood relative of author Alan Geik. But Workman grew up with Geik’s father on the Lower East Side and was so close to the Geik family he was considered an uncle. The author was in his 20s when he first met Workman, after the hitman was released from a New Jersey prison in 1964.
“I would never think of calling him anything but Uncle Charlie,” said Geik, 80, a retired TV producer and radio host who lives in Las Vegas.
In addition to diving deep into Workman’s story, the book also explores how Jewish mobsters and their hangers-on fought antisemitism, beat up Nazis and helped a fledgling Israel acquire arms for its War of Independence.
“These were people, from the first generation of Jews in America, who fought back against antisemitism in the streets,” Geik said. “Their parents fled the pogroms of Eastern Europe. They were not going to let it happen again and they didn’t.”
Geik’s book joins a crowded shelf of histories and memoirs of the Jewish mob, including “But He Was Good to His Mother: The Lives and Crimes of Jewish Gangsters,” by Robert A. Rockaway, and “Tough Jews: Fathers, Sons, and Gangster Dreams,” by Rich Cohen. Like those books, Geik’s family history provides a sort of reverse image of typical Jewish immigrant stories: Instead of scrapping their way up from New York’s Jewish enclaves into retail and the professions, Geik’s family joined a criminal counterculture.
Alan Geik’s family’s close ties to Jewish gangsters are chronicled in a just-published memoir, “Uncle Charlie Killed Dutch Schultz.” (Sonador Publishing)
Books such as Geik’s “really put a personal experience to this whole world that we all know about, the world of New York mobsters,” said Larry Henry, author of a monthly column for the Mob Museum in Las Vegas. “The public’s appetite for mob stories is insatiable.”
“Uncle Charlie Killed Dutch Schultz” describes a tangled family tree ripe with, well, rotten apples. Geik’s father, Lou, was not actually in the mob but did reap benefits from his ties with organized crime, Alan concedes. Lou Geik was one of several individuals who delivered mob cash to Workman’s family over 23 years.
“Uncle Charlie felt indebted to my father,” said Geik.
The author’s father is cited as a source for many of the anecdotes included in the memoir. Geik said that while his father’s business relied on mob protection, Lou Geik didn’t have “that extra whatever-it-took to be a really hardened criminal” — a trait, he said, his own older brother Bernard also lacked.
“My brother always wanted to be a gangland figure,” said Alan Geik. “So, instead my brother became a policeman.”
An ultimately very corrupt policeman. Bernard Geik joined the force in 1962 and resigned in 1971 after serving in the notorious Special Investigative Unit, which, as depicted in the book and the motion picture “Prince of the City,” devolved into an extortion ring. After resigning from the NYPD, Bernard Geik was arrested for bribery and bribe-taking in 1974. He reportedly pleaded guilty but served no time.
The disgraced detective went to work at his father’s trucking company. According to the author, his brother was one of the detectives provided by a supervisor to drive their Uncle George and other mobsters around town when they were transporting mob money in New York.
Uncle George Gordon was a real uncle. Gordon is allegedly one of the gangsters the actor George Raft modeled himself after for his roles in 1930s and ’40s crime melodramas. For decades, beginning at a casino and speakeasy near the Hudson River in midtown Manhattan, Gordon had a big hand in organized crime’s gambling operations, supervising enterprises in Florida, the Midwest, Las Vegas and Havana.
Alan Geik isn’t the only keeper of his family’s convoluted story. His sister Iris has her own memories of growing up mob-adjacent, such as when she and her parents were Gordon’s guests at the Stardust Hotel in Vegas when the mob was running its casino and skimming cash from the profits. Gordon wanted Lou Geik to work there.
According to Iris, Gordon posted a guard outside a private room in which she had been ensconced with a couple of slot machines. The 13-year-old was “mesmerized” by the slot machines. Her mother was initially unaware of what was going on.
“Uncle Charlie” Workman, seen in 1941, pled guilty to the 1935 murder of mobster Dutch Schultz and was given a life sentence. (NYPD)
“I was having a blast,” Iris Geik said. “I’ll never forget when the door flung open and my itty-bitty mother came in with a big guard behind her. She immediately made me stop [playing with the slot machine] and give back the money I had won.”
Iris Geik, now a privacy lawyer in the Boston area, has written hundreds of pages of her own memoir about the wives and girlfriends of the Jewish gangsters, tentatively titled, “The View From the Women’s Table.”
“Their lives were complex but they were also heimische Jewish women,” she said, using the Yiddish word for cozy and familiar. She and her father eloped because they were a mixed couple: Her mother Reba was a Sephardic Jew and her father was Ashkenazi.
Geik remembered that as a child she noticed a newspaper article about a family friend being arrested. She said, “Mom! Mom! Look, we’re famous.” To which her mother replied, “That’s infamous, dear.”
Geik said that on several occasions her mother observed: “There are no second-generation Jewish mobsters. Jews don’t make gangsters out of their children.”
Reba Geik had been involved in caring for two of Iris’ aunts who lived in Brooklyn while they were dying. Those acts of kindness had a profound impact on Uncle George, the casino supervisor.
After the aunts passed away, Gordon always stood when Reba entered a room, Iris said. “My mother was very honored by that because he was such a big shot.”
Throughout her life, Reba Geik remained close to Sylvia Lorber, a friend from her teenage years. Lorber was the only mob mistress her mother would spend time with, said Iris. Lorber was the paramour of two Jewish gangsters: Benny Kassop, the brother of Murder, Inc. gunman Sammy Kassop, and Sam “Red” Levine, an observant Jew who wore a kippah under his fedora. Levine won the affection of Lorber while the Kassop brothers were in Sing Sing, the maximum-security prison in Ossining, New York.
“Sylvia was a hell of a lot of fun but my mother worried about her,” Iris said. “Sylvia told me her stories, which were kind of glamorous when she was young but sad when she was older.” After spending 20 years with Levine, Lorber couldn’t attend his funeral. Sylvia Lorber stopped talking to Reba Geik in her last years.
Jewish gangsters do, on occasion, display some altruism in Alan Geik’s memoir. Take Moe Dalitz, the head of the Cleveland Syndicate. He was a major bootlegger during Prohibition whose flotillas of illegal liquor on the Great Lakes came to be known as The Little Jewish Navy. His family ran legitimate laundry businesses in Boston and Detroit. Too old to be drafted during World War II, he enlisted at the age of 42 and was commissioned as a lieutenant. Dalitz ran the military laundry service on New York’s Governor’s Island — but declined to bunk in the island’s barracks, opting instead to stay at a swanky hotel overlooking Central Park.
Then there was Johnny Eder, a major source for Geik’s narrative. Eder was part of the Lower East Side teenage crime crew that included Uncle Charlie and Uncle George. As an adult he was a major fence for stolen jewelry and always had a bag of stolen rings on him. Eder also had many connections at City Hall and in the Brooklyn District Attorney’s office.
According to Geik’s account, Eder was the mob’s representative to the Haganah, the Jewish paramilitary force in Palestine. Eder arranged meetings in the noisy kitchen of the Copacabana, a mob hangout, between Haganah agents and mobsters and others described as “former wartime U.S. intelligence agents” working to secure weapons for Israel’s War of Independence. (The late Teddy Kollek, Jerusalem’s longtime mayor, would tell a story about passing cash to an intermediary at the Copacabana, who brought the money to an Irish sea caption with a ship full of munitions bound for the Holy Land. The bagman, according to Kollek, was Frank Sinatra.)
Author Alan Geik’s father-in-law, Lou Lenart, left, and other fighter pilots in front of Avia-S-199 plane. Lenart was part of the group of men transporting surplus fighter planes and other weapons to the Holy Land for use in the War of Independence. (Courtesy of Boaz Dvir)
Alan Geik has a very personal connection to the creation of the Jewish state. His late wife Nina was the daughter of Lou Lenart, a World War II fighter pilot who served in the U.S. Marines. Geik’s memoir details how the elder Lenart was part of the group of men transporting surplus fighter planes and other weapons to Palestine for use in Israel’s War of Independence. Lenart’s story was featured in Nancy Spielberg’s 2014 documentary “Above and Beyond,” about the creation of the Israeli air force.
The story of how Jewish gangsters used some violent muscle against Nazi sympathizers in New York has been told before in historical accounts, but one episode in Geik’s memoir is particularly dramatic. A pair of Jews attended a Bund rally at Camp Siegfried on Long Island, a summer camp that taught Nazi ideology, and were offered a ride back to the city by a Nazi sympathizer who they ended up beating senseless in Brooklyn.
Alan Geik was not really hungry when he met Meyer Lansky at a Central Park hotel in the late 1950s. The gangster asked the 15-year-old nephew of George Gordon if he wanted a pastrami sandwich. Geik declined. Then Lansky, who struck Geik as an “older Jewish man who I knew was really powerful,” suggested that they split one. It was an offer that Geik did not refuse.
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The Jewish Brigade fought fascism in Italy. Now its flags spark protests.
(JTA) — When the Jewish Brigade appears today in Italian public debate, it is rarely about the British Army unit, formed largely by Jewish volunteers from Mandatory Palestine, that was sent to fight in Italy in the final months of the Second World War.
The Jewish Brigade has become a screen onto which other conflicts are projected: Zionism and anti-Zionism, antisemitism, Israel and Palestine, the meaning of antifascism and the ownership of public memory.
This is why recent tensions in Milan and Rome during Italy’s Liberation Day commemorations were not simply disputes about flags or parades. They were symptoms of a deeper problem: the difficulty of allowing history to remain history, while also recognising that memory is always political.
On April 25, Italy celebrates its liberation from Nazi occupation and fascist rule. It is the most important civil holiday of the Italian Republic, a foundational moment in the country’s democratic identity. But precisely because it is so symbolic, it has always been a stage on which the political tensions of the present are acted out.
The Jewish Brigade occupies a peculiar place in this story. Militarily, its contribution to the Allied campaign in Italy was limited. The Brigade arrived late at the front, in early 1945, and fought for only a short time. Its soldiers were deployed in Romagna, north of Ravenna, along the Lamone, and later near Riolo Terme and the Senio river. About 50 of its soldiers died.
Yet to measure the Brigade only by military impact is to misunderstand its historical significance. Its importance was symbolic, political and psychological. These were Jews in uniform, fighting under a flag marked by the Star of David, against the army of the regime that had attempted to annihilate European Jewry. For many of the volunteers, especially those who were committed Zionists, service in Italy represented more than participation in the Allied war effort. It was a form of Jewish self-assertion, and a claim to political dignity before the world.
This is one reason the Brigade mattered then. It also helps explain why it matters now.
After the war, the memory of the Jewish Brigade did not immediately become central to Italian public memory. For decades it remained relatively marginal, preserved above all within parts of the Jewish community and in the recollections of veterans. Its later rediscovery, especially from the 1990s and 2000s, coincided with new struggles over the meaning of April 25. Some Italian Jewish communities began to bring the Brigade’s flag into Liberation Day commemorations to remind the public that Jews had not only been victims of fascism and Nazism. They had also been combatants, liberators and political actors.
That reminder was, and remains, historically legitimate. Italian Jews belong fully to the history of the Resistance and to the history of the Republic that emerged from the defeat of fascism. The Jews of Mandatory Palestine who served in the Jewish Brigade also belong to the history of Italy’s liberation, however brief their time at the front. They fought in Italy, against German forces, alongside other Allied soldiers and alongside the reborn Italian army. To deny their place in that history is not a neutral act of historical correction. It is an exclusion.
At the same time, it is clear that the Brigade has become controversial not only because of what it did in 1945, but because of what its flag is understood to mean today. The flag of the Jewish Brigade is virtually identical to the later flag of the State of Israel. For some, this makes it a proud symbol of Jewish resistance to Nazism and of the Jewish contribution to liberation. For others, especially in the context of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, it is read primarily as a symbol of Israel and therefore as a political provocation.
This is the heart of the problem. The dispute is often presented as a debate about history, but it is in fact a debate about the present. People argue about the Brigade because they are really arguing about the legitimacy of Zionism, about whether anti-Zionism can become antisemitism, about whether Israel should be understood as a national project or an imperial one, and about what antifascism should mean today. These questions generate fierce disagreements, and April 25 gives them a highly charged public stage.
There are two competing visions of Liberation Day. One sees April 25 primarily as a historically defined Italian commemoration: the day on which the country remembers those who fought between 1943 and 1945 to free Italy from Nazi-fascism. In this interpretation, the Jewish Brigade clearly has a place, because it took part in that struggle. Palestinian flags, by contrast, are harder to place within that specific historical frame, not because Palestinians were fascists, but because they were not participants in the liberation of Italy.
The other vision is more dynamic and internationalist. It sees April 25 not only as the commemoration of a past event, but as an annual reaffirmation of resistance to oppression in the present. In this interpretation, the presence of Palestinian flags, Ukrainian flags, Iranian dissidents or other contemporary causes can be understood as part of a broader antifascist language. April 25 becomes not only the memory of Italy’s liberation, but a ritual of solidarity with those who resist domination elsewhere.
The Jewish Brigade forces us to confront this tension. It belongs to the historical April 25 because it helped liberate Italy. It also belongs to the broader moral history of antifascism because it embodied Jewish armed resistance to Nazism. But its memory is now inseparable from the unresolved political and psychological impact of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict on Italian, and indeed international, public life.
This does not mean that every criticism of Israel is antisemitic. It is not. Nor does it mean that Jewish history should be used to silence Palestinian suffering. It should not. But it does mean that excluding Jews from an antifascist march, insulting people carrying the symbols of the Jewish Brigade, or treating Jewish participation in Liberation Day as illegitimate is a profound historical and moral failure. Antifascism without Jews is not antifascism. An April 25 in which Jews are tolerated only if they hide the symbols they decide to choose is not a healthy democratic ritual.
The answer is not to turn the Jewish Brigade into a weapon in today’s political battles. Nor is it to erase it in the name of avoiding controversy. The answer is to recover the complexity of its history. The Brigade was a military unit, but also a symbol. Its soldiers were liberators in Italy, survivors or relatives of victims of European catastrophe, Zionists of different kinds and human beings who often carried grief, hope and a desire for revenge. Their story links the Holocaust, the Second World War, the end of empire, the birth of Israel and the politics of memory in postwar Italy.
That is why the Jewish Brigade matters today. It reminds us that history cannot be reduced to slogans, that memory can both illuminate and distort, and that democratic societies must make room for complexity and uncomfortable truths.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of JTA or its parent company, 70 Faces Media.
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Jerusalem Pride march turns toward the Knesset as LGBTQ Israelis eye pivotal election
(JTA) — JERUSALEM — The Pride march in Israel’s capital city changed its traditional route on Thursday to end near the Knesset, in a show of force ahead of elections that could have major implications for the status of LGBTQ Israelis.
“If the current government has a problem with LGBTQ+ people, then the current government can go home, because the community is here to stay,” opposition leader Yair Lapid said during the culminating rally.
Jerusalem’s Pride march is always more muted than the raucous celebration that takes place each June in Tel Aviv. But this year, the looming election, which must be held by Oct. 27, galvanized participation.
More than 10,000 Israelis gathered in Sacher Park for the rally, according to Noa Fisher of the Jerusalem Open House, the LGBTQ+ equality organization that organizes the event.
“It’s always more like a protest than anything else. This year, especially,” said Hadas Bloemendal, chair of the Jerusalem Open House, walking alongside the crowd with her baby in a stroller.
“I’m supposed to be on maternity leave,” she said. “But this year, I had to be here.”
The status of LGBTQ Israelis is complex. While the country has a thriving gay culture and the speaker of the Knesset is openly gay, same-sex marriage is prohibited by law and some haredi Orthodox lawmakers have spoken with disdain about LGBTQ people and said they want to see their rights rolled back. The elections this fall will determine whether those lawmakers retain power in the next government.
Michal Rozin, a former lawmaker from the liberal Meretz party, urged rally-goers on Thursday to boo after recounting a 2023 comment by a member of the United Torah Judaism party, a partner in the governing coalition, who said the LGBTQ community is “the most dangerous thing for the State of Israel, more than Islamic State, more than Hezbollah, more than Hamas.” (He was commenting during Pride month, before Hamas’ Oct. 7 attack on Israel.)
Avi Maoz, an anti-LGBTQ politician who was part of the current government until last year, called this year’s march an “abomination” in a post on social media on Thursday.
The rally marked 11 years since 16-year-old Shira Banki was killed when a haredi Orthodox man stabbed six Jerusalem Pride attendees, weeks after being freed from prison after staging a similar attack a decade earlier.
“Some of the friends she walked with are still, today, volunteering. That’s what echoes the most, what she chose to do,” Bloemendal said.
Security was intense Thursday, and the gathering area before the march was completely sealed off. More than 2,000 Israel Police officers and border agents were dispatched to protect the march, according to Israeli police spokesperson Dean Elsdunne.
Behind a wall of tour buses was a counter-demonstration hosted by the extremist group Lehava, which opposes Jewish-Arab coexistence and gay relationships. By the time the march left Sacher Park for the Rose Garden near the Knesset, only a few dozen men remained in the heavily policed and cordoned-off area.
“Those standing outside and protesting against us have forgotten what it means to be Jewish and have forgotten what it means to be human,” Lapid said from the stage.
Despite the counter-protest, spirits were high at the rally, where attendees said they were determined to make their voices heard at a time when they feel their country is closing itself off to LGBTQ+ life.
“The LGBTQ+ community is present everywhere that the fate of this country is being written,” Rozin said in her speech. “But there are those who continue to incite against it.”
Lapid has long made LGBTQ+ equality a central tenet of his platform. His alliance this year with Naftali Bennett (a religious Zionist who historically opposed same-sex marriage) is notable in part because Bennett announced at their April 26 press conference announcing a joint campaign that a government under his leadership would advance same-sex marriage in Israel.
Marriage in Israel is regulated by the Rabbinate, which prohibits LGBTQ+ unions, leaving many couples to wed abroad and petition to have those marriages recognized at home. Lapid promised that “in the first 100 days of the next government, we will bring legislation that says the rights of every couple in Israel will be equal. Mom and dad, dad and dad, mom and mom — everyone the same rights.”
The nearly 10,000 attendees gathered beneath different banners and identities, some flying the flags of their youth movements, from socialist to LGBTQ+ organizations, to different political factions, including the Democrats, which made a significant showing at the event.
Drummers from the Pink Front led the rally toward the Rose Garden near the Knesset, passing through a tunnel, with chants echoing off the stone walls.
Shira Zagury, CEO of Shira Banki’s Way, founded by Banki’s parents the year after her murder to build coexistence and pluralism in Israeli society, said the march “continues to mark a moment of inclusion and positivity.”
Before the march set off for the Rose Garden near the Knesset, Rabbi Tamar Elad-Appelbaum recited the Traveler’s Prayer, praying for the marchers’ safety and alluding to Banki’s death nearly 11 years before.
“In the face of violence, hatred, and attempts to send us back into the closet, we will march this year and every year and say, ‘We are here to stay,’” she said.
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British government backs NHS antisemitism reforms that would restrict political symbols
(JTA) — Doctors and nurses in the U.K. could soon be banned from wearing pro-Palestinian and pro-Israel symbols at work following recommendations from the British government’s independent advisor on antisemitism.
The advisor, Lord John Mann, delivered 36 recommendations to tackle antisemitism across the National Health Service in a report that the government formally accepted on Thursday.
“Jewish people and everyone experiencing discrimination need action, not words,” Secretary of State for Health James Murray said in accepting the recommendations for the country’s publicly funded healthcare system.
Prime Minister Keir Starmer charged Mann with tackling antisemitism in the NHS in October, soon after an attack on a Manchester synagogue in which two Jewish men were killed.
The review followed multiple high-profile incidents of alleged antisemitism within the health care system, including where Jewish patients said they were uncomfortable or unable to receive care from workers whose pro-Palestinian signifiers were at odds with the patients’ support for Israel.
Mann’s investigation documented “routine ostracism” of Jews within parts of the health service, Jewish doctors who considered leaving their jobs because of antisemitism and Jewish patients who said they were afraid to seek NHS treatment because they feared antisemitism in doing so.
Calling such a climate “never acceptable,” Mann said changes are needed, including to the NHS dress code, which has not been updated recently to address political symbols. He said he believed political symbols should be banned inside NHS facilities and NHS workers should be barred from wearing their uniforms to political rallies.
“The firm position of this review is that political identifiers do not have a place in the NHS,” Mann wrote, adding, “To be more specific, saying ‘Free Palestine’ or ‘I love Israel’ are reasonable beliefs and expressions but the identification of such views or beliefs on public facing NHS owned profiles might, in of themselves, be a barrier to patients.”
The report also calls for tracking data about Jewish patients to be able to monitor their satisfaction and medical outcomes, training health care workers about antisemitism and improving systems to handle patients’ discrimination complaints.
No timeline for implementation is laid out, but Murray said changes would be rolled out “without delay” and a first progress report would be published by the end of the year.
Unison, a public service employees union that includes NHS workers, said it opposes antisemitism and praised some of Mann’s recommendations but raised questions about the dress code regulations. “There’s a real risk precious time and resources will be spent trying to define a political badge and what staff can wear in their own time,” it said in a statement.
British Jewish groups applauded the report. The Board of Deputies of British Jews’ Vice President Karen Newman thanked Mann and said the Board “has long made the case for many of the measures included in this report.” Among them, she said, were “training, staff accountability, uniform guidance, recording of Jewish ethnicity, and empowerment of Jewish staff networks.”
Newman also noted that several of the recommendations were included in the board’s July 2025 Commission on Antisemitism report, which Mann jointly chaired.
The Jewish Medical Association said the reforms would ensure “accountability for protection from discrimination” for both Jewish staff and patients and other minorities, and the Community Security Trust said it welcomed Mann’s recommendations and “the clear recognition that antisemitism must be addressed urgently across the NHS.”
Concerns about whether people perceived to be Jewish or pro-Israel can safely receive medical care from pro-Palestinian workers has ratcheted up anxiety in Jewish communities around the world, fueled by viral incidents such as an Australian nurse who filmed herself threatening Jewish patients last year.
Ahead of Lord Mann report’s, the British network ITV News aired an interview with an Orthodox Jewish doctor who quit his NHS job and moved to Israel this week with his family, citing rising antisemitism in England.
Dr. Boruch Michaels lived in the heavily Orthodox Jewish London neighborhood of Golders Green, where a spate of recent attacks on Jewish targets. Among the issues he told ITV that he had seen at work were other doctors refusing to treat Israeli patients and staff refusing to give Jewish patients kosher meals.
He said, “If they are dying and in A&E [the emergency room] I’ve been told by doctors that if they’re from Israel then they will not treat that person.”
Mann did not comment publicly on the doctor’s account but said in making his recommendations, “Jewish people have to be confident that they will receive the same treatment as everyone else, at all times in all situations.”
Speaking to the BBC on Wednesday night, Mann elaborated on his views about the political signifiers in the workplace. (Neither he nor the report specifically mentioned keffiyehs, signifiers of Palestinian solidarity that some Jews and allies of Israel interpret as support for violence.)
“An ‘I support Palestine’ badge, or anything like that, is a problem for some people, just in the same way as an ‘I support Israel’ badge is a problem for some people. Don’t wear either,” he said.
More broadly, Mann said, workers should not be bringing their views into the NHS. “The stronger the views the bigger the problem,” he said.
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