Four days earlier he suffered a stroke. Two days later, he seemed to rally, but contracted pneumonia and was ultimately unable to recover.
His family was with him when he passed away in his 6,000 square foot mansion. It was a beautiful home in a desirable neighborhood with seven bedrooms and seven baths; there was also a two story guest room. His private beach and yacht dock were in the back yard.
Perhaps his early life had to do with his desire to have the biggest and the best when he reached adulthood.
Census records reveal quite a bit about our mystery man. The federal censuses from 1900, 1910, and 1920 as well as state censuses from 1905 and 1915 were packed with information. Birth and death records and other government sources were also helpful.
He was the fourth born of nine children, seven boys and two girls. The first born girl apparently died when she was only a year old. Most of the children were close in age—not more than two to three years separating them except for the five year gap between the seventh and eighth children.
The family occupied homes at four different addresses in the city during that time; all within a two mile stretch lying only a mile from the river. One of the buildings has been gone since the 1960's brought the expressway through the neighborhood. The others are still standing.
Interestingly enough, they always had other families living with them. And not just one at a time:
By 1920, he was married and had a two year-old son. His father died that year. He moved to another city and bought a 2800 square foot two story home—the long tubs house. His mother and sister followed in 1923. While he didn’t stay there often, it must have been nice to share a home with only five other people after spending his early life with no less than 14. His mother lived there until her death in 1952.
Trouble with the law landed him in the penitentiary in 1932. There, he was diagnosed with gonorrhea and syphilis. His mental capacity continued to decline as a result of the syphilis. Upon his release from prison in 1939, he sought treatment at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore but was refused because of his reputation. Union Memorial Hospital, also in Baltimore, agreed to treat him. After his release, he lived the last seven years of his life at his mansion.
And so, his poor mother, Theresa, buried another child. Ironically, her first born went on to be a prohibition agent. You have to wonder what she thought when she and her husband, Gabriele, first arrived in New York City. I'll bet she never dreamed that they, the immigrants from a little town in Italy named “Angri” would become the parents of Alphonse Gabriele Capone.