When people talk about New York’s Five Families, the Colombo name usually comes up quickly. Less known is that the Colombo family began as the Profaci family, named after its first long-term boss, Joseph Profaci. He was known as the Olive Oil King, a label that carried both truth and exaggeration. He ran a wide network of rackets, kept a polished public image, and led his people with a firm hand. His era shaped the power structure that followed, including the rise of Joe Colombo and the chaos of the Gallo revolt. Understanding Profaci helps explain how one group of men went from neighborhood rackets to a lasting place in American organized crime history, and why the family’s later wars were, in some ways, set in motion during his time.
Early Life and the Road to Power
Joseph Profaci arrived in the United States as many immigrants did in the early twentieth century, with little money and large ambitions. He found his footing through a legitimate import business, especially in Italian staples like olive oil and tomato products. The business was real, and it did make money. At the same time, it gave him a way to build connections and respect among fellow immigrants. Honest vendors saw him as a growing distributor. Less honest types saw him as a potential patron. In those years, lines between grit, hustle, and the street underworld were thin, and many men walked both sides.
Profaci rose in the wake of the Castellammarese War, a violent power struggle among New York mob factions in the early 1930s. When that war ended and the new Commission set rules for peace, he was recognized as a boss. From that point forward, he controlled one of the Five Families. He preferred a calm and conservative leadership style. He cared about tradition, loyalty, and tribute. He did not seek the spotlight. Instead, he built wealth through steady rackets and patient control of his captains.
How the Profaci Family Made Its Money
The family’s money came from a familiar list of rackets. They ran loan sharking operations that lent cash to people and businesses at sharp interest. They took a piece of the numbers racket, the underground lottery that was popular in working class neighborhoods. They were involved in bookmaking on sports. They shook down businesses for protection money. On the waterfront and in parts of the garment district, they used union influence to steer contracts and collect fees. If someone wanted to move goods, avoid trouble, or ensure smooth work at a dock or warehouse, they often paid.
The olive oil and food import business mattered in more than one way. It was a real enterprise that helped Profaci pay taxes, hire workers, and show an honest face. It also gave cover for meetings, storage, and distribution networks. Box trucks, warehouses, and shipping papers helped mask the movement of other, less legal products. From an organizational point of view, a “clean” company like this provided leverage and options. When heat rose in one area, men could claim to be doing business in another. Not every story about contraband hidden among food crates is true, but the structure made such stories believable.
The Public Image, Faith, and Charity
One thing that set Profaci apart from some of his flashier peers was his public image. He presented himself as a devout Catholic and a family man. He donated to church causes and community groups. He supported events that were dear to Italian American communities and attended religious feasts. He kept his personal lifestyle modest on the surface. Friends and foes alike nicknamed him the Olive Oil King, a nod to both his business and his smooth style.
This image mattered, and it was not only about ego. In a world where law enforcement pressure could close in without warning, a respectable front gave him breathing room. He seemed like a businessman who happened to know rough people, not a gangster who pretended to be a businessman. Critics inside the family, however, argued that he asked for too much tribute under the guise of tradition or charity. Some felt squeezed. They saw a boss pulling money through every channel, from union dues to holiday envelopes. The tension kept building until it could not be contained.
Inside the Family, Order and Pressure
The Profaci family’s internal culture prized obedience and silence. Captains were expected to keep their crews in line. Money flowed upward, protection flowed downward. For a long time, it worked. Profaci kept peace with other leaders and avoided unnecessary wars. He had close ties to Joseph Magliocco and a working relationship with Joseph Bonanno. This network gave him allies when he needed them and a buffer when rival families made moves.
But no system is perfect, and cracks formed among his own men. Younger crews, especially those eager to climb fast, felt blocked by older captains and by tribute demands that seemed out of step with their risks. A boss can control rivals, but internal pressure is harder to see until it explodes. That is exactly what happened when the Gallo crew in Brooklyn rebelled.
The Gallo Revolt, Why It Happened and What It Did
The crew led by Joe Gallo, often called Crazy Joe, had a reputation for nerve and flair. They were hungry for money and status. They also had a sense of theater that turned street beefs into headline drama. In 1961, members of the Gallo crew kidnapped men loyal to Profaci, including relatives, to force better terms. Their demand was simple in concept and impossible in practice. They wanted lower tribute, more autonomy, and promises that could not be publicly granted without making the boss look weak. Negotiations, threats, and short-lived deals followed.
The revolt led to shootings, attempted hits, and spiraling mistrust. Ordinary rackets suffered because violence is bad for business. While newspapers focused on the crew with the flashiest nickname, the larger harm was felt across neighborhoods. Union deals got shaky. Payers held back money. Police attention spiked. For the first time in a long while, the Profaci family looked like it could be pushed around by its own men. Even if the Gallos did not topple the boss, they forced him to spend time and energy on internal battles instead of on growing revenue and managing alliances.
Law Enforcement Pressure and the Apalachin Shadow
Behind the scenes, the heat had been rising since the late 1950s. The Apalachin Meeting in 1957, a high-level gathering of mob figures upstate, changed public awareness. Dozens of men were detained or seen fleeing the scene. The message was clear. The underworld was not a local rumor. It was coordinated and national. Profaci’s name was part of that story, and it never fully left the headlines after that point. Investigations followed. Subpoenas landed. Grand juries asked direct questions. When a boss has to keep one eye on the police and one eye on a rebellious crew, the odds of a stable future get worse.
In the early 1960s, the combination of internal revolt and external pressure boxed the family in. Meanwhile, new figures across New York were rising, some with ideas and methods that did not match the older ways. The guard was changing, and the Profaci era’s quiet grasp did not fit the mood of the moment.
Illness, Succession, and the Colombo Shift
Joseph Profaci died in 1962, reportedly of cancer. His passing raised the question that terrifies any organization built on loyalty to a single leader. Who takes over, and can they hold it? Joseph Magliocco, a loyal ally, stepped in. His tenure was short and troubled. He was linked to a plot that targeted rival bosses, a move that broke the rules that kept the Commission from open warfare. Joe Colombo, a younger figure with ambition and timing, played a part in exposing the plan to the Commission. In return, he gained their approval to lead the old Profaci family. With that, the name that had anchored the family for decades changed. The Colombo family entered the public record, and the Profaci era faded into the historical footnotes. It was not only a rebrand. It was a signal that the balance of power had changed.
Myths, Facts, and the Olive Oil Story
A few myths cling to Profaci’s name. One is that his olive oil business was pure fiction, nothing but a front. That is not accurate. The business was real and made money, which is exactly what made it useful. Another myth is that faith erased guilt. Profaci did wrap himself in imagery of church and charity, but that image protected a ruthless enterprise. He was a calculation of opposites, a man who could fund a church event one day and collect violent debts the next. The truth is not romantic. It is structural. The more a boss blends real business with illegal streams, the stronger his position becomes, because it is harder to separate one from the other.
What Profaci’s Rule Teaches About Power
There are clear lessons in his story. The first is that legitimacy matters. A front is better if it is not a front at all, but a real company. The second is that tribute systems can break under pressure if they ignore the risk taken by the people below. If soldiers feel the boss only takes and never gives, they will seek leverage, which in violent networks translates to kidnapping and bullets. The third is that external shock, like the Apalachin exposure, can shift the whole field. Public pressure narrows options and makes private diplomacy harder. Finally, succession planning in illegal enterprises is never smooth. It depends on favors, secrets, and sometimes betrayal. That is why the family name changed, and why later wars erupted under the Colombo brand.
Cultural Impact and Why the Name Still Comes Up
The Profaci name does not fill movie posters the way others do, but it shows up in footnotes, court records, and the backstory of more famous figures. Joe Gallo’s legend, for example, makes little sense without knowing the boss he battled against. The Colombo family’s later wars in the 1970s and 1990s also echo the fractures first felt during Profaci’s time. Writers, historians, and reporters return to the Profaci story because it explains how the old-world style of control gave way to a louder and riskier age, where media attention and internal rebellion went hand in hand.
How Historians Look at the Sources
Serious work on this topic leans on a mix of FBI files, court records, newspaper archives, and credible books on the Five Families. Records after Apalachin added hard details that earlier eras lacked. That said, not every headline from the period was accurate, and some myths grew legs because they were catchy. The best approach is to compare claims across multiple sources, trust documents over hearsay, and accept that some closed-door conversations will never be known in full. The big picture stands firm even when small details are disputed.
A Balanced View of Profaci’s Legacy
In the end, Joseph Profaci was not the flashiest boss, and he did not seek to be. He built wealth through habit more than spectacle. He preferred order, routine, and steady tribute over dramatic moves. That style worked for a long time. It also set the stage for younger men to call him out as too demanding and too slow to share. His death opened the door to a leader with a different approach, one aligned with an era that valued media savvy and public stunts. The family that once wore his name became the Colombo family, and history turned a page. Yet the old page matters, because it explains the roots of what came next.
Conclusion
Joseph Profaci ran a family that made quiet money and kept a polite public face, at least on the surface. He managed allies, built a real business that also served his criminal interests, and kept a firm grip on tribute. His greatest strengths, order and image, became pressure points when a younger crew refused to play by his rules. Between the Gallo revolt and growing law enforcement scrutiny after Apalachin, the Profaci era reached a natural end. The handoff to Magliocco and then to Joe Colombo marked a change not only in name but in mood. If you want to understand the Colombo family’s history, start with the man who built the structure they later fought over. In that sense, the Profaci name still stands behind one of New York’s most famous crime families, even if it no longer appears on the masthead.
FAQ
Was Joseph Profaci really the Olive Oil King?
Yes, he owned a real import business and used it to build influence. The nickname was both brand and shield.
Did the Gallo crew kidnap members of the Profaci family?
Yes, in 1961 kidnappings were used as leverage to force better terms from the boss.
Was Profaci at the Apalachin Meeting?
He was among the high-level figures linked to Apalachin, the 1957 gathering that exposed the scale of organized crime.
How did the Profaci family become the Colombo family?
After Profaci’s death, Magliocco briefly led. Following internal crisis and Commission decisions, Joe Colombo took over and the family took his name.
What rackets did the Profaci family control?
Loan sharking, numbers, bookmaking, extortion, and union influence on docks and in parts of the garment trade.
Was Profaci a violent boss?
He preferred quiet control, but violence was part of enforcement. The revolt years saw more open conflict.
What is the most common myth about Profaci?
That his business life was only a front. It was real, which is why it worked so well as cover.
