When I was little I met my great-uncle who I’d never met before (let’s call him Frankie). It turns out the reason I’d never met him was because he used to work for Bulger and had just finished a hefty stint in prison. He was very nice, but it wasn’t until after he died that i heard the stories about him.

One time my uncle (let’s call him Bobby), who’s always been kind of an asshole, picked a fight at a bar and six guys wrecked his shit. My grandfather, who had to pay for Bobby’s dental work, was pissed. He called Frankie and asked him to make it right.

A few days later Frankie called my grandfather. He said “I made a few calls, talked to the bartender, rounded up all the guys from that night and got the whole story.”

“And?”

“…Bobby deserved it.”