January 17: Scarface

Welcome to the American Catholic Daily Reader podcast. Today is January 17th, and our story is Scarface. It's the simplest and humblest of gravestones, just a marker in the ground with a short inscription, My Jesus Mercy, and a name, Alphonse Capone.

It's an unlikely epitaph for America's most notorious gangster. And yet, there never was anything likely about Al Capone. From first to last, he was an enigma. Born in Brooklyn on January 17, 1899, Capone was a bright student who didn't take well to the rules of his Catholic school. He dropped out at the age of 14 and quickly moved up through the ranks of Brooklyn's most notorious gangs, the Junior 40 Thieves, the Bowery Boys, the Brooklyn Rippers, and finally, the Five Points Gang.

In 1923, his work with the Five Points Gang took him to Chicago. Within two years, he was king of the Chicago underworld, the city's most notorious bootlegger, gunrunner, speakeasy operator, and crime boss. His disregard for the law and ruthless treatment of his enemies, including gunning down seven rival gang members in the 1929 St. Valentine's Day massacre, knew no limits, but neither did his generosity.

Although Capone rarely darkened a church's door, a large donation to a local Catholic parish followed every big score. He founded the city's first soup kitchens when the Depression hit, distributed coal and clothes to Chicago's poor every winter, and routinely paid for the hospital bills of indigent strangers. All that came to an end, however, with his arrest and imprisonment for tax evasion in 1931.

Soon after, the syphilis he'd contracted as a teenager flared up. Throughout his time in prison, his health deteriorated, finally earning him parole in 1939. By 1946, his physician declared that he had the mental capacity of a 12-year-old. Al Capone died of cardiac arrest a year later, with his only hope, Christ's mercy, carved into his gravestone.

Capone's story shows us the surprising ways mercy can intersect with lives of sin and crime. Despite his ruthlessness, he still sought to express charity, revealing the enduring imprint of faith even on those far from church life. His epitaph, My Jesus Mercy, speaks volumes. Every soul longs for God's grace, and even the most hardened hearts carry a hope for redemption.

It reminds us not to judge superficially and to recognize that acts of goodness, even small or hidden, can shine in dark lives, offering glimpses of God's enduring mercy. Consider someone in your life who seems far from faith or goodness. Commit to a small act of kindness, prayer, or encouragement for them this week.

Thank you for listening to the American Catholic Daily Reader Podcast. Join us tomorrow, January 18th, for another story of faith and courage in America.