The Most Dangerous Man in America Faced the Rat Pack — Dean Martin Shut Him Down

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The cigarette smoke hung frozen in the spotlight like the whole room had
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forgotten how to breathe. 300 people sat paralyzed at their tables. Champagne
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going flat. Cigarettes burning down to manicured fingers.
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Every eye locked on the small stage where Sammy Davis Jr. stood alone under
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a white hot beam that suddenly felt like an execution light.
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The man walking toward him controlled half the gambling in America. He had
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politicians on payroll, judges in his pocket, and a body count that federal
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investigators were still trying to calculate decades later. His name was
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Sam Jakana. And tonight, he had decided to remind everyone in this room exactly who owned
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the entertainment industry. What happened in the next 60 seconds
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would test the bonds of the most famous friendship in show business history. It
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would reveal something about courage that most people never understand.
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And it would create a debt between two men that would last until the day they
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died. Before we go deeper, I need to be clear about what you are watching. This
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documentary draws from FBI surveillance transcripts released decades after these
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events, testimony from witnesses who were present, and investigative
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journalism spanning 60 years. Some dialogue has been reconstructed
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from documented accounts. Where sources conflict, we will tell
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you. Where questions remain, we will not pretend to have answers.
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But the core of this story is true. And the truth is more dangerous than any
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Hollywood script. To understand why a mob boss wanted to humiliate Sammy Davis
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Jr. in front of 300 witnesses, you need to understand the deal that built Las
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Vegas. By 1960, organized crime controlled the American
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entertainment industry with an efficiency that legitimate businesses
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could only envy. Every major casino on the Las Vegas strip had mob money behind
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it. Every headliner who performed in those showrooms understood the unwritten
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rules. You performed when they told you to perform. You smiled at whoever they
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seated at your table. You kept your mouth shut at what you saw. And you
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never ever questioned a direct request from the men who signed your checks.
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Frank Sinatra understood this arrangement intimately. By the late 50s,
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he was the biggest star in the world. Records, films, television,
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an Academy Award. He had conquered every mountain show business had to offer. He had also built
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relationships with men whose names appeared in FBI surveillance files with
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alarming frequency. Sam Jakana chief among them. The
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friendship between Sinatra and Jakano was not casual. FI documents released
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years later reveal the depth of their connection. a vacation together. They
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attended the same private parties. Wire taps captured conversations that
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federal prosecutors would spend years trying to use. According to some
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accounts, Gianana once referred to Sinatra as one of his own, not a friend
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of the organization, part of it. But Sinatra's closest friend
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was not a gangster. And years later, one name would appear in every account of
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what happened that night. A name that connected this confrontation to forces
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that shaped American history. Sam Gakana.
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Sammy Davis Jr. had known Frank since 1941.
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They met when Sammy was 15 years old, already a veteran performer who had been
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on stage since before he could read. From the beginning, there was something
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between them that transcended professional respect. Maybe Frank saw
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something of himself in Sammy. Two men who had clawed their way up from
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nothing. Two men whose talent was so undeniable that the world had no choice
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but to make room for them. Two men who would never be fully accepted by the
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establishment they were conquering. By the late 50s, they were inseparable.
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Along with Dean Martin, Peter Lofford, and Joey Bishop, they formed what the
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press would call the Rat Pack. Five men who seemed to own Las Vegas, who made
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movies together, who partied harder than anyone had ever partied. But Sammy
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carried something the others did not. He was the most gifted entertainer of his
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generation. He could sing, dance, and do impressions that left audiences speechless.
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He worked harder than anyone. He gave everything on stage every single night
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and he could not stay in the hotels where he performed. In Las Vegas in the
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1950s, even Sammy Davis Jr. used the service entrance. He performed to standing
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ovations in the main showroom, then was escorted to a rooming house on the other
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side of town because the casino that paid him would not let him sleep in
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their beds. This was the contradiction at the heart of his life. Adored on
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stage, humiliated everywhere else. The biggest star in the room and the only
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one who could not use the front door. But before we go further, there is
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something the history books rarely explain. Sammy dealt with this contradiction by
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pushing deeper into the world that would actually accept him. The mob did not
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care about the color of his skin. They cared about talent and loyalty and
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money. In their clubs, Sammy was treated with respect. In their company, he found
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an acceptance that polite society refused to offer. The problem was that
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this world came with rules of its own. And Sammy had broken the most dangerous
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rule of all. He had fallen in love with a white woman. Her name was Kim Novak.
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She was blonde, beautiful, and one of the biggest movie stars in Hollywood. In
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1957, they began an affair that both of them knew could destroy everything. In 1957
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America, interracial relationships were not just scandalous.
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In many states, they were illegal. For a black man to be romantically involved
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with a famous white actress was to invite violence of the most permanent
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kind. The affair was supposed to be secret. Hollywood gossip made sure it
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was not. And when word reached Harry Conn, the head of Colombia Pictures and
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Kim Novak's boss, he did what powerful men in that era did when they had a
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problem. He called someone who could make it go away. According to accounts
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that have emerged over the decades, the message delivered to Sammy was simple.
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End the relationship immediately or face consequences that no amount of
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fame could protect him from. What happened next remains disputed in some
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details. Some sources say Sammy was threatened directly. Others say intermediaries
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conveyed the warning through Frank Sinatra. At least one account suggests physical
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intimidation was involved. What is documented is that Sammy Davis Jr.
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married a black woman named Lorie White in January of 1958,
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less than a month after the threats intensified. The marriage lasted 60
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days. It was widely understood to be a performance designed to prove that Sammy
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had learned his lesson. He had been controlled, humiliated,
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reminded that no matter how famous he became, there were men who could still
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treat him like property. And those men sat at the same tables as Frank Sinatra.
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Now we knew why Sammy had enemies in this world. What we did not know yet was
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why one of those enemies had chosen tonight to make things personal. The
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incident at the copa happened because of something more valuable than money.
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Respect. Sam Gakana believed Sammy Davis Jr. owed him a debt that had never been
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repaid. When Sammy married a Swedish actress named May Britt in 1960,
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defying every convention of the era a second time, Giaana had reportedly
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offered protection. He had put word out that no one was to touch the performer.
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Giaana expected gratitude. He expected loyalty. He expected Sammy
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to remember who had sheltered him when the rest of the world wanted him destroyed. But Sammy had done something
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Jakana considered unforgivable. He had publicly supported John Kennedy
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for president. The relationship between Jiaana and the Kennedy family was
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complicated, poisonous, and heading toward bloodshed. Giaana had helped
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deliver Chicago in the 1960 election. He had done this because Frank Sinatra had
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promised that a Kennedy administration would ease the pressure on organized
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crime. That promise had been broken. Robert Kennedy, the new attorney
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general, made the mafia his personal crusade. He targeted Sam Giaana with an
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intensity that felt personal. Giaana blamed Sinatra and he blamed everyone
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connected to Sinatra who had publicly campaigned for Kennedy. The night at the
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Copa was a message. Giaana stopped at the edge of the stage. He looked up at
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Sammy. The room had gone so quiet you could hear ice settling in glasses 20 ft
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away. Then Giaana spoke. Two words that would have ended Sammy's career and
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possibly his life if not for what happened next. Dance, one word spoken
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like a command to a servant, like an order to property. The room did not
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breathe. 300 people in evening gowns and tailored suits sat frozen, afraid to
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move, afraid to look away, afraid to do anything that might draw attention to
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themselves. Sammy Davis Jr. stood in that spotlight,
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the most talented performer in America, and understood exactly what was
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happening. This was not about dancing. This was about submission.
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about proving to everyone in this room that no amount of fame or talent or
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money could change what Sammy really was in the eyes of men like Sam Jakana a
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thing to be used a possession to be displayed something less than human
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spotlight felt like it weighed 1,000 lb as silence pressed against his eardrums
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his glass eye stared straight ahead. His real eye tracked Gakano with the hyper
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awareness of a man, calculating whether he was about to die. 10 seconds passed,
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then 20. Gakana's expression did not change. that flat, patient look of a man
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who had all the time in the world, who had ordered deaths with less expression,
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who was enjoying watching one of America's biggest stars try to figure out how to survive the next 30 seconds.
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Sammy opened his mouth to speak and then at chairs creped against the floor. Dean
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Martin rose from his table with the same unhurried ease he brought to everything.
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A famous relaxed slouch, that half-litted gaze that made him look
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perpetually amused by a world that took itself too seriously.
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He walked toward the stage. Not fast, not slow, just Dean being Dean, moving
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through the room like he owned it. Like there was no mob boss standing in his path, like this was just another night
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at the Copa and he had somewhere to be. He stepped up onto the stage. He put his
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arm around Sammy's shoulders. He looked directly at Sam Jakana with an
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expression that conveyed absolutely nothing and absolutely everything at the
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same time. And then Dean Martin said the words that should have gotten him
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killed. If you want him to dance, Sam, I'm going to have to dance with him. And
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I got two left feet. Nobody wants to see that. The room stopped existing.
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In that moment, there was only Gakana and Dean and Sammy and the impossible
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thing that had just happened. A man had defied Sam Gakana
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publicly. In front of 300 witnesses who would remember this night for the rest of
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their lives. In the world of organized crime, this was not merely an insult. It
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was an act of war. Men had been killed for less. Men had been killed for far
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less. The protocol was absolute and everyone in that room knew it. You did
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not defy the boss ever under any circumstances
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for any reason. Dean Martin had just broken that rule with a joke and a
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smile. The longest 10 seconds in Copa history followed. Giaana's face remained
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unreadable. The men at his table shifted almost imperceptibly,
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hands moving toward places where weapons might be concealed. The air itself
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seemed to thicken with the anticipation of violence. Dean did not move. His arms
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stayed around Sammy's shoulders. That half smile never wavered. He looked like
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a man waiting for a punchline, not a bullet. Then something unexpected
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happened. Giagna's lip curled. Not quite a smile. Something closer to
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recognition. Like a predator acknowledging another predator. Calculating whether this fight
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was worth the cost. He raised one hand in a small gesture toward his table.
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Then he turned his back and walked away. He sat down. He picked up his drink. He
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lit a cigarette. And the copa remembered how to breathe. The band started
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playing. Conversations resumed in whispers. Waiters began moving again.
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Life continued as if nothing had happened. But everyone in that room knew
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something fundamental had shifted. Dean Martin had made Sam Jakana back down.
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Pay attention to what happens next. It's easy to miss. A question that would
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haunt investigators for decades was simple. Why did Dean Martin survive that
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night? Chiaakana had killed men for imagined sllights. He had ordered
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executions for failed deliveries, for rumors, for simply being inconvenient.
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His power depended on absolute authority. Any challenge to that
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authority, especially a public one, demanded blood. And yet Dean walked out
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of the copa with his life. The answer reveals something about organized crime
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that most people never learn. Dean Martin was protected by different
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people. Since his early days in Stubenville, Ohio, Dean had maintained
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relationships with figures connected to New York families. Not deep criminal partnerships.
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Dean was never a gangster, but he had grown up in a town so thoroughly
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controlled by the mob that legitimate business was the exception. He
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understood how to navigate these waters. He knew who to respect and more
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importantly, he had been useful to people who could create problems for
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anyone who touched him. If Chianana killed Dean Martin, he would not just be
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eliminating an entertainer. He would be creating a conflict with New
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York. He would be forcing the commission to take sides.
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He would be risking a war over a moment of ego. Shiaakana was ruthless. He was not
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stupid. He let Dean walk. But letting him walk was not the same as forgetting.
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Now we knew why Dean survived that night. What we did not know yet was the
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price that would eventually be extracted from everyone involved. The phone rang
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at 4 in the morning Los Angeles time. Frank Sinatra grabbed it on the second
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ring. He had been asleep. The woman beside him, whose name appears in
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nobiography, stirred but did not wake. The voice
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belonged to Chile Rizzo, his closest confidant. Chile told him what had
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happened at the copa. Frank said nothing for a full minute. When he finally
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spoke, his voice was quiet. Those who knew Sinatra understood that quiet was
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far more dangerous than screaming. He asked one question. Is Sammy okay? Then
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he asked another. Where is Sam now? Within 3 hours, Frank Sinatra was on a
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plane to New York. He landed before dawn. A car was waiting. He was driven
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to a restaurant that no longer exists in a neighborhood that has been rebuilt
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three times since. What happened in the back room of that restaurant has never
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been fully documented. But the outcome is clear. Frank Sinatra brokered a
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piece. Sammy would not be touched. Dean would not be punished. The Copa incident
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would be treated as a misunderstanding that got out of hand. Frank sat across
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from the most dangerous criminal in America and negotiated for the lives of
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his two best friends. According to accounts that emerged decades later, he made promises in that
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room. He would use his influence with the Kennedy White House. he would
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personally intervene with the attorney general. These were promises Frank
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Sinatra could not keep. And when Giaana eventually realized they were empty,
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everything would fall apart. But that collapse was still months away. The
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morning after the copa, Dean came to Sammy's hotel room. He did not knock. He
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just walked in the way he always did, carrying a bottle of bourbon that was
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already half empty at 9 in the morning. He sat down across from Sammy. He poured
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two glasses. He handed one to his friend. For a long moment, neither of
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them spoke. Then Dean said something that Sammy would carry with him for the
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rest of his life. You are my brother. I do not care what
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color you are. I do not care what anyone says. You are my brother. And nobody
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talks to my brother like that. Sammy broke down. He had spent his entire life
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fighting for acceptance, fighting to be seen as equal, fighting
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against a world that told him every single day that he was less than human
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because of the color of his skin. And here was Dean Martin, a man who could
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have stayed in his seat, who could have protected his career, his life, his
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family by simply doing nothing. telling him that none of it mattered,
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that the friendship was real, that some bonds were stronger than fear. The rat
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pack mythology is built on cool, on parties and drinking and effortless
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charm, on five men who seem to own the world and never break a sweat. But the
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real story is simpler. Three men loved each other. And that love was tested in
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ways that most friendships never face. Take a breath. Because from here on, the
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story only gets darker. The months following the Copa should have been the
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peak of their power. Frank was closer to President Kennedy than any entertainer
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in history. Dean's career was exploding in every direction.
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Sammy had survived the impossible and emerged with his dignity intact. But the
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machinery of destruction was already turning. The promises Frank had made in
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that back room to save his friends could not be kept. Robert Kennedy's war on
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organized crime intensified through 1961.
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The FBI expanded surveillance of mob figures dramatically.
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Wiretaps captured conversations that would later destroy careers and end
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lives. Sam Giaana was the attorney general's primary target. The pressure was
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relentless and personal. BI agents followed Gia Kana openly,
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perking outside his home, sitting at adjacent tables and restaurants,
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trailing his car through Chicago streets. It was harassment disguised as
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investigation. Giaana seethed. He had delivered an
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election. He had called in every favor, twisted every arm, done everything
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necessary to put Kennedy in the White House. He had done this because Frank
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Sinatra had promised protection. He had received persecution instead. The
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breaking point came in the summer of 1962. Frank Sinatra had been preparing to host
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President Kennedy at his Palm Springs compound. He had spent over $100,000
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renovating the property, a helellipad for Marine 1, new guest cottages,
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communication equipment so the president could work during his stay. It was
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supposed to be the ultimate symbol of Frank's arrival. The president of the
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United States sleeping under his roof. A phone call came 3 days before the visit.
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Peter Lofford, Kennedy's brother-in-law and the weakest link in the rackback,
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delivered the news. The president would not be staying with Frank. Security
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concerns. He would stay with Bing Crosby instead.
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Security concerns was the official explanation. The truth was simpler and more
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devastating. Bobby Kennedy had seen the FBI files on
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Frank's mob connections. He had convinced his brother that being photographed at the home of a man who
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vacationed with Sam Gana would be politically catastrophic.
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Frank Sinatra was radioactive and the president had just told
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everyone. According to witnesses, Frank's reaction was volcanic. He took a sledgehammer to
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the helipad he had built. He destroyed the commemorative plaque. He raged and
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drank and screamed at anyone who came near. But the worst part was what came
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next. Sam Giaana heard about the canceled visit. He understood instantly
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what it meant. Frank Sinatra had no influence with the Kennedys.
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The promises made in that back room after the Copa were worthless.
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The protection would never come. The friendship between Frank Sinatra and Sam
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Jakana ended that summer. According to FBI surveillance from this period,
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Chiaakana told associates that Sinatra was dead to him. The singer who had been
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welcomed his family was now nothing and everyone in Sinatra's circle lost their
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protection with him, including Sammy Davis Jr., the summons came without
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warning. November 1962, Sammy was performing at the Villa
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Venice. A Chicago supper club, Chia Kana, had acquired as a fund for an
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illegal gambling operation next door. Every major entertainer of the era had
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been instructed to perform there. Eddie Fiser, Dean Martin, Frank himself. None
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of them had been in a position to refuse. Sammi shows went well. The crowds loved
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him. For a few nights, it felt like the old days. Then, Giaana called into the
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back office. The room was small. Two chairs, a desk, no windows.
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Gakana reminded Sammy of the copa, of Dean's defiance,
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of Frank's broken promises. Then he made his terms clear. Sammy would perform at
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certain venues for certain people whenever Jia Connor requested. No
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questions, no refusals. He would consider it repayment for debts
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that could never be fully calculated. If he refused, Gianana would ensure Sammy
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Davis Jr. never performed anywhere in America again. If he still refused after
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that, Chiaakana would make the problem permanent. Sammy understood what
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permanent meant. He chose survival. For the next year, Sammy performed whenever
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and wherever Sam Jacana demanded, private parties, mob gatherings,
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events he was never allowed to discuss. He told no one. Not Dean, not Frank. He
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carried the shame alone and smiled on stage every night while something inside
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him died a little more with each performance. This was the reality behind the rat pack
30:46
glamour. The true cost of doing business with men who viewed human beings as
30:53
assets to be used and discarded. But Sammy's bondage would not last forever
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because Sam Jana was running out of time. And the reason had everything to
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do with what happened in Dallas on a sunny afternoon in November. November
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22nd, 1963. Frank Sinatra was in a recording studio
31:19
in Los Angeles when someone opened the door and said five words that stopped
31:25
everything. The president has been shot. Frank put down his cigarette. He walked
31:32
out of the studio. He got in his car and according to everyone who saw him that
31:39
day, he did not speak again for almost 12 hours.
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Dean Martin was on a film set when the news came through. He watched the chaos
31:51
unfold around him. Crew members crying. Producers scrambling to shut down
31:57
production. The ordinary machinery of Hollywood grinding to a halt. Dean went
32:04
to his dressing room. He closed the door. He sat alone with a bottle and did
32:11
not come out until the next morning. Sammy Davis Jr. was rehearsing for a
32:17
television appearance in New York. He heard about Dallas from a stage hand who
32:23
was listening to the radio. He walked to the window of his dressing room and
32:28
stared out at the city. He stayed there for 3 hours, not moving, not speaking,
32:36
just watching New York try to process the unprocessable. Three men who had been closer to the
32:43
president than almost any entertainers in history. Three men who had campaigned
32:49
for him, performed for him, believed in him. Three men who now stood in the
32:55
wreckage of a world that would never be the same. But for the men whose lives
33:01
had been entangled with both the White House and the underworld, those bullets
33:06
in Dallas meant something more than grief. They meant fear. This next detail
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changes everything we thought we knew. Within hours of the assassination,
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rumors began circulating through organized crime that the mob had been
33:24
involved. Sam Gakana was playing golf in Palm Springs when he heard. According to
33:32
witnesses, his reaction was not sorrow. It was the face of a man calculating how
33:39
long he had left to live. The connections were too obvious to ignore.
33:45
Giaana had helped elect Kennedy. He had worked with the CIA on plots to
33:52
assassinate Castro. Plots that used the same networks of violence that could
33:58
theoretically be turned against a president. He knew things about the intersection of government and organized
34:06
crime that powerful people needed to stay buried. J. Edgar Hoover understood
34:13
immediately what the assassination meant. He knew about Chiaakana's role in
34:20
the 1960 election. He knew about the CIA partnership with the mob. He knew that
34:27
if any of this became public, it would destroy faith in the American government
34:33
completely. So he made a decision. The full truth
34:38
would be buried. The Warren Commission would receive carefully filtered
34:43
information. The official story would become the only story. But the men who
34:49
knew the real story understood they were now living on borrowed time. For Sammy
34:56
Davis Jr., the assassination created something unexpected,
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an opportunity. Giaana's attention was suddenly elsewhere. The Chicago boss was fighting
35:10
to stay out of prison and possibly to stay alive. His grip on the performers
35:16
he had controlled began to loosen. In early 1964,
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Sammy stopped returning Chiaakana's calls. The first time he refused a
35:28
command performance, he expected retaliation. He hired security. He varied his roots.
35:36
He slept in different hotels under different names. Nothing happened. The
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second time he braced for the inevitable visit from men who would remind him of
35:49
his obligations. Still nothing. By summer 1964,
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Sammy Davis Jr. realized he was free. Not because Giaana had forgiven him, not
36:03
because the threat had evaporated, but because Sam Gakana had bigger
36:09
problems than an entertainer who would not answer his phone. Now we knew how
36:16
Sammy escaped. What we did not know yet was whether the freedom would last or
36:23
what it had already cost him. But before we go further, there is
36:28
something the documentaries never show about what Dallas did to these men. The
36:34
Rat Pack, as the world knew it, died that day in November.
36:39
Not immediately, not publicly. They continued making movies together. They performed in
36:47
Vegas. They maintained the image of five men living the American dream and its
36:54
most glamorous. But the chemistry was poisoned. Frank Sinatra withdrew into a darkness
37:02
that his closest friends could see but never fully reach. A Kennedy rejection
37:09
had wounded him in ways that went beyond ego. He had believed that his talent and
37:16
his connections could buy him legitimacy. He had believed he could bridge
37:22
entertainment and politics, that the president would be his friend and
37:27
protector. Instead, he had been discarded, and now the president was dead, and Frank would
37:35
never have the chance to repair what had been broken. The rage that had always
37:41
simmerred beneath his surface became harder to control. He drank more. He
37:47
lashed out more frequently. He cycled through relationships that
37:53
could never fill the void. Dean Martin responded by pulling away. He had always
38:00
been the most private member of the group, the one who maintained boundaries
38:06
between his public persona and his actual life. After Dallas, those
38:12
boundaries became walls. Dean focused on his television show,
38:18
which would become one of the most successful variety programs in history.
38:23
He played golf. He spent time with his children. He kept Frank at a friendly
38:30
distance, close enough to honor the friendship, but far enough to protect
38:35
himself from the chaos. The copa had changed Dean in ways he
38:41
never discussed. He had stood up to a killer and walked away. He had discovered something about
38:49
his own courage that surprised even him. But he had also seen how close he had
38:56
come to losing everything for a moment of principle. Dean Martin was not a man
39:02
who sought confrontation. The copa had been an exception driven by
39:08
love for a friend. He would not put himself in that position again. And
39:14
Sammy carried it all. The public humiliations,
39:19
the private bondage, the weight of being the most talented person in rooms where talent meant
39:26
nothing compared to power, the knowledge that no matter how high he climbed,
39:33
there would always be men who could bring him back down. The drinking got worse. The performing got more manic.
39:42
The desperate need for approval that had driven him since childhood became consuming.
39:48
Sandy worked constantly. Every offer accepted, every moment
39:54
filled with activity, anything to avoid thinking about what had been done to him and what he had
40:01
allowed himself to become. His marriage to May Britt, the relationship that had
40:07
once symbolized progress and courage, began to fracture under pressure that no
40:14
love could withstand. They divorced in 1968.
40:19
By then, everything was different. Pay attention to what happens next. It is
40:26
easy to miss. Sam Gakana was called before a federal grand jury in June
40:33
1965. He refused to answer questions. He
40:38
invoked the fifth amendment to everything asked. The judge found him in
40:43
contempt and sentenced him to a year in prison. When Giaana emerged, he did not
40:50
return to Chicago. He fled to Mexico where he would spend
40:56
the next eight years in exile, watching his empire crumble from a
41:02
distance. Knowing that returning to America made the prison or worse, the
41:08
man who had commanded Sammy to dance at the Copo was gone. But he was not
41:14
forgotten. The Senate formed the Church Committee in 1975
41:20
to investigate intelligence community abuses. Their investigation led directly to
41:27
questions about organized crimes connections to the government. Sam
41:32
Gakano was subpoenaed to testify. He knew about the CIA plots against
41:39
Castro. He knew about the Chicago role in the Kennedy election.
41:45
He knew about Dallas. He never made it to the hearing. June 19th, 1975.
41:54
Chiaakana was cooking sausages in the basement kitchen of his Oak Park home.
42:01
Someone he trusted enough to turn his back on was in the room with him. That
42:07
person put a 22 caliber pistol to the back of his head and fired. Then they
42:13
rolled him over and shot him six more times in the face. The killer was never
42:20
identified. The case remains unsolved. But everyone who understood the world
42:27
Gakana had lived in knew what the murder meant. He had been silenced before he
42:33
could talk. The secrets he carried about the intersection of organized crime and
42:40
American power at the highest levels died with him on that basement floor.
42:46
And somewhere performing two shows a night at whatever casino was paying that
42:52
week, Sammy Davis Jr. heard the news. The man who had tried to break him was
42:59
dead. shot in the face while cooking dinner in his own house. There is no
43:06
documented record of what Sammy said when he learned of Jakana's murder. No
43:12
interview, no memoir passage, no conversation that anyone has ever
43:18
made public. But those who knew him said something shifted after that night. A
43:25
weight lifted. Not completely. The scars would never fully heal. The memories
43:32
would never fully fade. But the specific fear that had lived in Sammy since the
43:39
copa, the knowledge that somewhere was a man who could destroy him with a phone
43:44
call, that fear was finally gone. Sam Giao was dead. Sammy Davis Jr. was still
43:54
standing. Now we knew what happened to the monster. What we did not know yet was whether the
44:01
men who had survived him could ever truly escape what he had done to their
44:06
friendship and their lives. The 1970s tested what remained of the ratback in
44:14
ways that none of them expected. Frank Sinatra announced his retirement in
44:20
1971. He was exhausted. He said he had given
44:25
everything to his career and there was nothing left. The retirement lasted 2
44:32
years. He came back because he could not stay away. Because performing was the
44:39
only thing that made him feel alive. Because the silence of retirement was
44:45
worse than the chaos of the spotlight. But the Frank Sinatra who returned was
44:51
different. harder, more isolated. The inner circle that had once included
44:58
dozens had shrunk to a handful of people he trusted completely.
45:04
Dean Martin kept working, but the joy had drained from it. His television show
45:10
ended in 1974 after nine seasons. His son Dean Paul,
45:18
the light of his life, was building a career as an actor and pilot. Dean
45:24
watched his son with a pride he rarely expressed to anyone. The boy had
45:30
everything. Talent, charm, the whole world ahead of him. Sammy kept moving.
45:39
He had to keep moving. He embraced the counterculture, trying to stay relevant to an audience
45:46
that had moved past the rat pack era. He grew his hair. He wore love beads. He
45:54
appeared on Laugh in. He also made a decision that would haunt him for years.
46:01
In 1972, Sammy publicly embraced Richard Nixon at
46:07
a Republican rally. He hugged the president. He performed at the
46:12
convention. For a man who had been a symbol of the civil rights movement, the
46:18
optics were catastrophic. The black community felt betrayed.
46:24
Liberal Hollywood was confused and angry. Sammy's lifelong quest for
46:30
acceptance had led him to aligning with a president whose administration would
46:36
later be revealed as one of the most corrupt in American history. Why did he
46:42
do it? The answer goes back to the copa, back to the humiliations,
46:49
back to the lifetime of being told he was not good enough, not welcome enough,
46:55
not white enough. Sammy wanted to be accepted by power. He had been burned by
47:02
Kennedy. He had been controlled by the mob. And here was a president who seemed
47:09
to welcome him. It was a mistake born of wounds that had never healed. And it
47:15
would cost him for years. But through all of it, one thing remained constant.
47:22
When Sammy needed them, Frank and Dean were there. When Dean was struggling,
47:29
Sammy called every day. When Frank spiraled into one of his dark periods,
47:35
the two of them found ways to reach him. The friendship that had been forged in
47:41
the 50s, tested at the Copa, strained by Dallas and everything that followed,
47:48
that friendship survived, battered, changed, carrying scars that would never
47:55
fully fade. but still there, still real, still worth
48:01
something in a world where almost everything else had proven to be illusion. The last time all three of
48:09
them stood on a stage together was 1987. Frank had organized what he called the
48:16
Together Again tour. One more time, he said. One more chance to show the world
48:23
what they had been. They were old men by then. Frank was 71.
48:30
Dean was 70. Sammy was 61. But the years of performing, of drinking, of carrying
48:38
wounds that never healed had aged him far beyond that number. The first few
48:45
shows were magic. The chemistry that had defined them in the 50s was still there,
48:52
buried under decades of change. but still alive. They traded jokes. They
48:59
sang together. They reminded audiences why the rat pack had mattered. And Dean
49:06
dropped out. The official explanation was fatigue. The tour was too demanding
49:13
for a man his age. He needed rest. The truth was darker. Dean's son, Dean Paul,
49:22
had died in a plane crash the previous March. The boy had been everything to
49:27
Dean, a pride he rarely expressed, the future he believed in. The best of
49:34
himself reflected back. When Dean Paul died, something in Dean Martin died with
49:41
him. He had been going through the motions since the crash, showing up,
49:48
performing, pretending to be the relaxed, carefree man the world expected. But the light
49:55
was gone. He would never perform publicly again. This next detail changes
50:03
everything we thought we knew about how the story ends. Frank and Sammy
50:09
continued the tour as a duo. Without Dean's casual grace to balance
50:15
Frank's intensity and Sammy's eagerness, the dynamic shifted. The shows were
50:22
still good. The audiences still loved them, but something essential was
50:28
missing. They both knew it. After the tour ended, Sammy went to visit Dean at
50:35
his home in Beverly Hills. Dean was living like a ghost. He ate dinner alone
50:42
at the same Italian restaurant every night. He played golf occasionally.
50:48
He spoke to almost no one. The house that had once been filled with laughter
50:54
and music, and the chaos of a large family was quiet now. Sammy sat with him
51:00
for 2 hours. They did not talk about the old days. They did not reminisce about
51:07
Vegas or the Copa or any of it. They just sat together. Two old men who had
51:15
survived things that should have destroyed them. When Sammy left, Dean
51:21
walked into the door. They embraced and Dean said something that Sammy would
51:28
remember for the rest of his life. Thank you for standing with me at the copa.
51:33
Sammy pulled back, confused. The copa had been Dean standing with
51:39
him. Dean had been the one who risked everything. Dean shook his head. "I was
51:48
terrified," he said. "I had never been that scared in my life. But I looked at
51:54
you standing there alone, and I knew I could not let you face that by
51:59
yourself." Afterward, I thought about what would have happened if I had stayed
52:05
in my seat. I think it would have killed me. Not Chiao.
52:11
The shame of doing nothing. You gave me the chance to find out who I really was.
52:18
He paused. I have been grateful every day since.
52:23
And that silence said everything. Sammy Davis Jr. died on May 16th, 1990.
52:32
A throat cancer had been diagnosed only weeks before. It moved with terrifying
52:39
speed. From diagnosis to death was less than 8 weeks. In those final weeks, both
52:47
Frank and Dean came to see him. Dean arrived first. He had barely left his
52:54
house in months. But for Sammy, he got in a car and made the drive. He sat
53:01
beside the bed and held his friend's hand. He did not speak much. He did not
53:09
need to. The two men who had faced down a killer together at the Copa, who had
53:15
discovered something about courage and loyalty that neither of them had
53:20
expected, said their goodbye in the silence that had always been comfortable
53:26
between them. Dean stayed for 20 minutes. When he left, Samms wife,
53:32
Alivise, said Dean was crying before he reached the door. Frank came next. He
53:41
visited multiple times. He sat for hours. He talked about the old days,
53:48
about the shows they had done, the jokes they had shared, the moments that only
53:54
the two of them remembered. He made plans for Sammy's recovery that both of
54:00
them knew would never happen. And on one of those visits, Frank said something
54:07
that the witnesses present would never forget. He looked at Sammy, this man who
54:13
had been denied so much, who had been humiliated and threatened and used by
54:20
forces that should have destroyed him. You are always the best of us, Sam. The
54:26
most talented, the hardest working, the bravest. Do not ever let anyone tell you
54:34
different. Sammy died 3 days later. Frank Sinatra sang at his funeral and
54:42
that feeling was enough. Dean Martin died on Christmas morning 1995.
54:49
He had spent his final years as a recluse. The restaurants, the golf, the
54:57
silence that had become his only companion. Frank visited him near the end. The
55:04
meeting lasted only a few minutes. Dean was too weak, too distant, too lost in
55:12
whatever private landscape he had retreated into. When Frank left, he was
55:17
weeping in the parking lot. He knew he was saying goodbye to the last person
55:23
alive who truly understood what they had been. At Dean's funeral, Frank sat in
55:30
the front row. He did not speak. He did not perform.
55:36
He did not ulogize the man who had been his closest friend for nearly 50 years.
55:43
He just sat there, looking older than anyone had ever seen him, staring
55:50
straight ahead at a coffin that contained everything he had left. Frank
55:55
Sinatra survived both of his friends by three years. He died in May of 1998,
56:04
the last of the Rat Pack, the final witness to a friendship that had defined
56:10
American entertainment for a generation. His final years were marked by declining
56:16
health and fading memory. The performances could not match the legend.
56:22
The voice that had defined an era was failing. But according to his daughter
56:27
Tina, Frank kept photographs of Dean and Sammy in his bedroom until the very end.
56:35
He talked about them constantly, especially after Dean was gone. He would
56:41
raise a glass to their memory before dinner. A private toast that his family
56:47
learned never to interrupt. The friendship survived everything. The mob,
56:54
the threats, the humiliations, the broken promises. Dallas, the decades
57:01
of change that had swept away the world they had conquered. In the end, what
57:07
remained was simply this. Three men who had loved each other. What happened at
57:13
the Copa was not really about courage or defiance or beating the mob. Those
57:20
things make for good stories, but they missed the point. The copo was about
57:26
what we owe the people we love. Dean Martin did not stand up to Sam Gakona
57:33
because he was brave. He stood up because Sammy was his brother. Because
57:39
there was no version of himself that could watch his friend be destroyed and
57:44
do nothing. Because some bonds are stronger than fear. That is the real
57:50
legacy of the ratback. Not the parties, not the movies, not the
57:57
famous cool. The legacy is three men who chose each other again and again in a
58:05
world that gave them every reason not to. They chose each other when it was
58:11
dangerous. They chose each other when it cost them. They chose each other until the day they
58:18
died. And in that choice, they showed us what friendship can be when it is real.
58:26
The walls came down, the performances ended, the legends faded into history,
58:34
but the love remained. So I am asking you directly, was Dean Martin a hero who
58:41
risked everything for friendship or a lucky man who happened to survive a
58:46
moment of impulse? Comment one word, hero or lucky. Next
58:52
week, we go deeper into the hidden world where Hollywood and the mob became one.
58:59
The man who controlled the film industry for three decades and what happened when
59:04
he finally tried to tell the truth. Subscribe, hit the bell. We go deeper every week.
59:14
This is Global Mafia Universe. Some friendships are worth dying for.
59:20
Dean Martin knew which ones.

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The Most Dangerous Man in America Faced the Rat Pack — Dean Martin Shut Him Down

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