Las Vegas, March 3, 1964, 215 BC Sammy Davis Jr. leaves the S Hotel after his last show of the night. He is exhausted but happy. It’s been a great night. The audience loved him. He won $000 playing Blackjack after the show. He walks towards his Cadillac in the parking lot humming Mr. Bo Jangles.
Then three men emerge from the shadows. They are big. Dark suits, cold faces. Sami recognizes them immediately. Executors of the Genobese family. Mafia muscle. Mr. Davis, says the one in the middle, a huge guy with a scar on his cheek. We need to talk. Sami’s heart sinks. About what, gentlemen? Tony Salerno owes him money, a lot of money.
50,000 of a gambling debt from last year. Sami swallows hard. It’s true. I’d had a bad run with crabs. Fat Tony Saler hadn’t covered his markers and Sami had been paying slowly. $0,000 per month. I have n’t been paying fast enough. Mr. Saler doesn’t want everything. I do n’t have $50,000 in cash tonight. The guy with the scar takes another step closer.
So we have a problem, and when we have problems we solve them permanently. The other two men close the circle around Sami. One of them pulls a metal tube out of his jacket. Sam is trapped alone in a dark parking lot with three professional assassins, and then a familiar voice cuts through the night. Excuse me, gentlemen. I’m interrupting something.
Din Martin emerges from the shadows, a cigarette between his lips, his hands in his pockets, and walks straight towards the group as if he were strolling through the park. The type of scar is rotated. Martin, this is not your business. Go away, Din. Ignore the warning. Walk until you are next to Sami.
I see three big guys surrounding my brother at 2 in the morning. That’s what my business does. I warned you. Go now. Din smiles. That slow, calm smile. That? Will you hit me? Three against two. Those aren’t very good odds for you. And then Din Martin does something so brilliant, so bold, that he not only saves Sami that night, he changes the rules of the game between the mafia and the entertainers in Las Vegas forever.
To understand what Din did, you first need to understand how gambling debts worked in Las Vegas in 1964. If you owed money to the mob, you had two options: pay up or disappear. There was no third option. There was no negotiation, no courtesy extensions. Las Vegas was mafia territory. They owned the casinos, controlled the tables, and when they financed your losses, they expected you to pay on time with interest.
Samy Davis Jor had a playing problem. It was no secret, he loved craps and like many gamblers he sometimes won a lot and sometimes lost more. In March 1963, a year before this incident, Samy had had a terrible streak. He lost $50,000 in a single night, money he didn’t have in cash. Fat Tony Salerno, deputy head of the Genovese family, had covered the scoreboards, not out of kindness, but because Sami was a cash cow.
She could earn that money back by acting, but there was a deal. Sami would pay $5,000 a month for a year without fail, without excuses. And for 11 months, Samy had paid faithfully; he was one payment away from being free. But then Fat Tony changed the rules. He decided he wanted all the money immediately, the remaining 5,000, plus 45,000 in interest that had never been part of the original deal.
Because? Because F Tony was a thug and because he could be, and that night he had sent three of his best enforcers to collect, with orders to bring the money or bring a bloody message about what happens when you don’t pay. Samy was trapped; he didn’t have $50,000 in cash. His money was invested in property, in bonds, not liquid. And Fatony knew it, which meant that this wasn’t really about money, it was about demonstrating power, it was about putting Samy in his place.
Dean Martin understood this immediately and knew that it could not be resolved with violence. Three big guys against Din and Sami wouldn’t end well. But Din had something the executioners didn’t. Intelligence, connections, and an absolutely brilliant plan that he came up with in approximately 3 seconds. The guy with the scar, whose name was Vincent Vin Scar Marcone, looked at Dean Martin with contempt.
Din Martin, the drunkard, have you come to protect your little black friend? Din didn’t take the bait. I’m here to clear up a misunderstanding. There is no misunderstanding. Davis owes money. We want money. I understand that. But the deal was $0,000 a month. Samy has made 11 payments. He only owes one more. Vinnie laughed. Deals change.
Now he owes 50,000. That wasn’t in the original agreement tonight. I don’t care what was in the agreement. This is what Mr. Saler doesn’t want now. Din took a puff of his cigarette. Does Mr. Salerno know that his men are here threatening one of the main performers at his casino? He sent us. He specifically told you to threaten Sammy Davis Jor in the Sans parking lot , where there are security cameras. Vin hesitated for a second.
There are cameras here. Of course there are cameras. This is Sans. Jack Tratter has cameras everywhere to protect his stars, especially after that incident last year when Dino was robbed. This was not entirely true. There were some cameras, but not many. But Vinnie didn’t know that. So, Din continued.
There’s video footage right now of three known mobsters threatening Sammy Davis Jr. How do you think that will look when the FBI sees it? The FBI. Oh yes, because Jack Tratter has to report any threats against his artists. It’s hotel policy and he cooperates a lot with the feds to maintain his license. Din was making up half of it, but he sold it with complete conviction.
“By tomorrow,” Din said, “Bobby Kennedy is going to have video of the three of you threatening one of the most famous Black entertainers in America. Can you imagine the headline? The mob attacks Black Star in Las Vegas, just as Bobby is trying to take down organized crime.” Vini was sweating. Now, nobody said anything about the FBI.
Well, now you’re thinking about it, and you should. Because if anything happens to Sami tonight, if he even has a bruise, the feds are going to be all over Mr. Salerno like flies on [ __ ]. Din took another step closer. But it doesn’t have to be that way , because I have a solution that makes everyone happy.
What solution? Sami pays his final $5,000 tomorrow as per the original agreement, and we all forget this conversation. Mr. Salerno doesn’t want $50,000. Mr. Salerno won’t want anything I tell him,” Din said confidently, “because I’m going to explain to him how much money Sami makes for this casino and how much money Mr.
Salerno doesn’t make from this casino and how all that money disappears if Sami is leaving. Vin looked uncertainly at the other two men. “Here are your options,” Din said. “Option one: They beat up Sami. Maybe kill him. The feds investigate. Mr. Salerno goes to prison. You go to prison. Everyone loses.” Din exhaled smoke.
“Option two: They go back and tell Mr. Salerno that Din Martin wants to meet with him tomorrow to discuss Sami’s situation like civilized businessmen. And we come to an agreement that works for everyone. And if Mr. Salerno doesn’t want to meet,” Din smiled. “Oh, he will want to meet because I’m going to make him an offer that will be worth more than $50,000.
” Viniscar wasn’t stupid; he was muscle, yes, but he had survived in the Mafia by being able to read situations, and he could read this one. Din Martin wasn’t scared, which meant Din knew something he didn’t. “What kind of offer?” Vin asked cautiously. ” That’s between Mr. Salerno and me, but I promise you, it will be worth more than beating up Sami over a debt that’s almost paid off.
” Vin thought about He nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll arrange a meeting, but Davis isn’t leaving Vegas until this is settled.” “Fair deal,” Din said. He turned to Sami. “Are you planning on going anywhere?” Sami shook his head, still in shock from all this. ” No, I’m here all week.” “Then it’s settled. You guys can go. Sami and I need to talk.
” Vinnie and his two men left, but not before Vinnie said, “Martin, if you’re playing games with us, I’m not playing games with anyone, I’m just doing business.” Once they were gone, Sami practically collapsed against his car. “Oh my God, Din, what did you just do? I saved your ass.” “You’re welcome, but you said you’d make Fatony an offer.
” “What offer? I don’t have 50,000.” Din lit another cigarette. “The offer isn’t about money, Sam.” “Then what is it about?” Din smiled. “It’s about power, influence, and giving Fatony something she wants more than money.” What could he want more than money? Respect, access. The ability to say that Dean Martin and Samy Davis Jr. owe him a favor.
Samy blinked. You’re going to offer him a favor? Not just any favor. A specific favor I know he wants. His daughter is getting married in June. He wants top-notch entertainment. He’s trying to impress his future son-in-law’s family. How do you know that? Frank mentioned it to me a month ago. Fat Tony had asked Frank if he’d perform at the wedding. Frank said no.
Din exhaled smoke. But you and I, Sam, we’re going to say yes. We’re going to perform at Fat Tony’s daughter’s wedding. For free, as a personal favor. Din, I don’t want to perform at a mob wedding. Would you rather end up in the desert with a bullet hole in your head? Samy fell over. Think about it, Din said. A two-hour performance.
At his daughter’s wedding, in front of all the major bosses in the country, Fat Tony looks like the most important man in the world. His daughter has the best Possible entertainment and your debt disappears completely. Do you think it will work? I know it will work because Fat Tony wants status more than money, and having the Ratpack at his daughter’s wedding gives him more status than money can buy. Samy thought about it.
What about Frank? You said he said no. Frank said no because Fat Tony asked him to, and Frank doesn’t owe him anything. But if we offer as a favor to settle your debt, it’s different. And I can convince Frank to come, too. He’ll make a great show of it. Din put his hand on Samy’s shoulder. Trust me, Sam.
This is going to work, and you’ll be out of debt without paying a penny more. The next day, at 3 p.m., Dean Martin entered Fat Tony Salerno’s private office at the back of the Flamingo Hotel. Fat Tony was sitting behind a massive desk smoking a cigar. Vin Scar was standing behind him. Din Martin grunted, ” Fat Tony.
Pinnie told me you wanted to meet. This must be good.” Tin sat down uninvited. “It’s better than good,” Tony. That’s brilliant. I hear you interfered with my men last night. I stopped your men from making a huge mistake. You’re welcome. Fat Tony leaned forward. What a mistake to hit Samy Davis Jr. In the San parking lot, cameras were rolling.
Days before Bobby Kennedy is due to come to Las Vegas for his organized crime investigation. Fat Tony’s face turned red. Bobby Kennedy is coming here. Din nodded. It was true. Kennedy was scheduled to visit Las Vegas in two weeks. And if something has happened to Samy, who do you think he’s going to investigate first? Fat Tony looked at Vinnie.
Did you know about Kennedy? No, boss. Fat Tony turned back to Din. Well, you avoided a problem, but Samy still owes me money. According to the original deal, he owes you 5,000. What will he pay tomorrow? The deal changed. Deals don’t change, Tony. No, no negotiation. And you know that, Fat. Tony clenched his jaw.
You came here to teach me a lesson. I came to make you an offer. One that will make you happier than 50,000. Guano. I could never. I’m listening. Din leaned forward. Your daughter’s getting married in June. You want top- notch entertainment to impress the Gambinos? Fat Tony’s eyes narrowed. How do you know about that? I know everything, Tony.
It’s my business to know things, and I’m going to give you what you really want. Sami Davis Jr. Me. And I’m going to convince Frank Sinatra to come, too. All three of us performing at your daughter’s wedding. For free. Fat Tony was silent for a long moment. All three of us. Two full hours, we sing, we tell jokes.
We do the show you normally charge $100,000 a night for at your daughter’s wedding. For nothing. Why would you do that? Because you’ll cancel Sami’s debt completely. The 5,000 he still owes forgiven. The 45,000 in interest you made up. Forgotten. Clean slate. Fat Tony thought about it, and I get you three at my daughter’s wedding.
daughter in front of Carlo Gambino, in front of all the bosses in the country, showing them that Fat Tony Saler wasn’t so powerful he could get the Rat Pack to perform at a family wedding. Din could see the wheels turning in Fat Tony’s head—the status, the respect, the envy of all the other bosses. “Deal,” Fatoni said finally.
“But if you let me down, we won’t let you down . We’ll give you the best show your daughter has ever seen.” Fatony extended his hand. Din shook it. “Sami’s debt is canceled,” Fatony said. “And I expect to see you in June. We’ll be there.” June 1964. Fat Tony’s daughter’s wedding was the event of the year in Mafia circles. All the major bosses were there: Carlo Gambino, Joe Colombo, Sam Yancana.
It was an organized crime summit disguised as a wedding celebration. And as the groom, Din Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., and Frank Sinatra performed. Frank had initially resisted. ” Why am I performing at a Mafia wedding?” “Because Din told me to.” “He saved my ass,” Sami said. “And why do I owe him this?” ” Why?” Din added.
“It’s good that these guys see us as a united front. They respect us more when we stick together.” Frank grunted, but agreed. The show was spectacular. They sang, they told jokes. The bride cried tears of joy. The guests gave a standing ovation, and Fat Tony Salerno sat there, chest puffed out with pride. He had delivered.
His daughter had the best entertainment possible, and all the bosses were jealous. After the show, Fat Tony called Din aside. “That was amazing. Thank you.” “You’re welcome, Tony. And about Sami. We’re even now. The debt is completely canceled. I appreciate that.” Fat Tony put his hand on Din’s shoulder.
“You know, you’re a smart guy, Martin. Smarter than people think. I have my moments. What you did that night in the parking lot, the way you handled it. That was class. It could have gone differently. It could have been ugly, but you found a way to…” so everyone could win. Din nodded. That’s how it should work, Tony.
Not everything has to end in violence. You’re right, Fat. Tony sighed. You know, when I sent Vini that night, I was angry. I felt like Sami was disrespecting me, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Anger makes us do stupid things. Yeah. And if you’d let me go along with it, if you hadn’t stepped in, I would have lost a lot more than $50,000.
I would have lost respect, I would have brought the feds, I would have ruined this perfect night. Fat Tony offered his hand again. So thanks for being smarter than me. Din shook his hand. We all need friends to stop us when we’re being stupid. The story of how Dean Martin saved Samy Davis Jr. from three mob enforcers became a legend in Las Vegas.
It wasn’t just that Din had been brave, though he had been. It was that he had been brilliant. He could have fought, he could have threatened, he could have tried to intimidate guys who couldn’t be Intimacy. Instead, he used psychology, he used logic, he used an understanding of what truly motivates people. Fat Tony didn’t need $50,000; he was rich.
What he needed was respect, status, the ability to impress his peers. And Din gave him that in exchange for Sami’s safety. It was a masterstroke, and it changed how the mob viewed the Radpack. Before, they were just entertainment; afterward, they were partners, respected, untouchable, because Din had shown they could provide something more valuable than money: social credibility.
Samy Davis Jor never forgot what Din did for him that night. “Din saved my life,” Samy told an interviewer years later, “and he did it without firing a shot, without throwing a punch, without raising his voice. He did it by being smarter than everyone else in that situation.” Frank Sinatra learned something from it, too.
“I watched Din handle that, and I realized there’s more than one way to be strong. Sometimes the strongest response isn’t the loudest.” The lesson of this story is simple. But profound. Intelligence always triumphs over strength. When you face an impossible situation, when you are outnumbered and outgunned, don’t panic, don’t resort to violence, don’t give up.
Think, find out what the other person really wants, not what they say they want, but what they truly want deep down. And then give them that in return for what you need. Dean Martin understood this instinctively. He understood that Fat Tony wasn’t really about money; it was about respect, it was about status, it was about being seen as powerful.
So Dean gave him power, he gave him a show that no amount of money could buy, he gave him the envy of all his peers, and in return, Sami lived. The debt was canceled, and everyone went home happy. That’s genius. That’s leadership. That’s Dean Martin at his best. The next time you face an impossible problem, remember that night in the parking lot.
Remember that the solution isn’t always confrontation; sometimes it’s negotiation, sometimes it’s creativity, sometimes it’s understanding people better than they understand themselves. And remember that the True courage isn’t the absence of fear, it’s acting despite fear. Din was afraid that night—how could he not be? Three professional assassins, his best friend in danger.
No guarantee his plan would work, but he acted anyway because Sami needed him, because it was the right thing to do, because he was Din Martin. Rest in peace, Din. You taught us that brains always beat brawn. Rest in peace, Sami. You had a friend who risked everything for you. That’s brotherhood, that’s loyalty, that’s what makes these stories legendary.
Not fame, not talent, but character. The character of a man who sees his brother in trouble and says, “Not today, not while I’m still breathing.” That’s the true definition of Col. M.
