Tampa Tribune, June 14th, 2003


An Eye On The Court


If a trial's in the news, it's a good bet Joe Antinori shows up


For nearly 40 years, Joe Antinori has been watching trials in Tampa. It's better than a soap opera, he says.

By JOSHUA B. GOOD

TAMPA - Judge E.J. Salcines drapes his black robe over the shoulders of Joe Dionigi Antinori, 88. "Fits pretty good," Antinori says. Salcines shows Antinori to the bench in Tampa’s 2nd District Court of Appeal. Antinori sits and gazes out at the empty room. "Where’s the jurybox?" he asks.  There isn’t one, Salcines explains. In this courtroom, it’s just the three judges, a court reporter, lawyers and a few spectators. "Whenever you’re short of a judge, call me," Antinori, says. "You just keep practicing law without a license," Salcines fires back.

Antinori is a Tampa native with a 9th-grade education. For nearly 40 years, he has watched high profile trials in Tampa. His encounter with Salcines came during a break in last month’s trial of Paula Gutierrez, who was found guilty of murder. Antinori attended most of Gutierrez’s three week trial. Hillsborough’s judges are used to seeing Antinori. Lawyers sometimes ask him for advice. "Sometimes you think he knows more about juries than the lawyers do," Judge Robert Simms says. Watching trials is ‘better than a soap opera. This is for real," Antinori says. "This is my cup of tea.

Antinori knows about another side of Tampa, as well. He was born here on Jan. 23, 1915 and raised in Thor City. His father, Stefano Antinori, was a cigarmaker who later ran the bar at the Italian Club. Joe Antinori’s uncle, Ignacio Antinori, alleged to be a Tampa mob boss, was gunned down in 1940. After Ignacio Antinori’s death, Santo Trafficante Sr. took over the mob in Tampa, according to Joe Antinori and published accounts of Mafia history. Joe Antinori said Trafficante’s son, Santo Trafficante Jr., was one of his childhood friends. For a time in the late 1920s, they both lived on 20th Street. They played baseball together. "I was better," Antinori says.

Antinori joined the Army to fight in World War II. He thought he would be sent overseas, but instead he ran a bar at the medical officers’ club at Fort Blanding in Jacksonville for four years. After the war, he returned to Tampa, working in bars and selling liquor for a wholesale distributor. In 1964, Antinori’s cousin, Paul Antinori, was elected Hillsborough state attorney. Joe came to court whenever his cousin had a big trial. One of the most memorable was the trial of Billy Ray Bobson, who shot and killed Tampa Police Officer William Krikava during a burglary on New Year’s Day 1965.  Paul Antinori won a conviction, but never asked the jury to impose the death penalty. Bobson got life in prison. Paul Antinori was opposed to the death penalty and was roundly criticized, Joe Antinori says. "The Tampa Tribune gave him hell," Joe Antinori says.

When Paul Antinori went into private practice, he often turned to his cousin for advice. "He has such an uncanny perception of human nature, Paul Antinori says. In 1975, Joe sat through the trial of model Betty Lou Haber. Haber was married to Haber Department Store owner Albert Haber. She had her husband murdered. "She was a beautiful woman, but she was guilty as hell," Antinori says. Haber was paroled from prison this year.

In 1981, Antinori attended the trial of psychiatrist Louis Tsavaris, whom Paul Antinori represented. A jury found Tsavaris guilty of manslaughter for the death of one of his patients, Cassandra "Sally" Burton. Prosecutors said Tsavaris strangled her to keep her from telling Tsavaris’s wife that she and Tsavaris were having an affair. But Antinori believes the most damaging testimony was when Tsavaris said Burton called him for help. The psychiatrist stopped for ice cream on his way to her Town ‘N Country home instead of rushing to her aid. 


The ever interested Antinori, upper left, listens as Norman Cannela and his wife Suellen talk to reporters in 1984.  Cannella was acquitted of bribery charges.

As a salesman, Joe Antinori skipped work to attend trials without his boss’s knowledge. It caught up with him in 1984. Paul Antinori represented Norman S. Cannella in a federal corruption trial. Cannella was the chief assistant state attorney under Salcines when he was state attorney. Federal authorities accused Cannella of taking bribes to fix drug cases. After the prosecution rested its case, Paul Antinori asked the judge to dismiss the charges against Cannella. U.S. District Judge W. Terrell Hodges agreed and acquitted Cannella.

The story made the front page of The Tampa Tribune. So did Joe Antinori, who was photographed standing behind Cannella. His boss saw the photo the next day and asked him why he hadn’t been working. He was, Joe Antinori told his boss. He just happened to stop by at the end of his shift. Because Joe was a top salesman, his boss shrugged it off.


The 88 year old Antinori says that if he could live his life again, he would like to be a lawyer.  I'd have been dangerous, he says

In 1987, Joe’s boyhood friend, Santo Trafficante Jr., was buried in Ybor City. Antinori didn’t attend the funeral. His life had taken a different path. Joe Antinori was never arrested, never charged with any crime, never brought before a grand jury. He has a wife, a son and three grandchildren. He has a nice home in Carrollwood. He has his days in the courthouse. And he has only one regret. "If I had my life to live over again, I think I’d like to be an attorney," Antinori says. "If I had gone to college, I’d have been dangerous.  For now, he’s pinning his hopes on his youngest grand- son and namesake, Joe Antinori, a 22-year-old senior at Clemson University with hopes of becoming a lawyer.