The Irishman's Longest Running Star

Over the last few days, millions around the world have been talking about the acclaimed Martin Scorsese film and new Netflix hit, The Irishman – a whopping 3.5 hours of acting by Hollywood's most revered. There is, however, at least one real scene from Mafia-time New York, adding to the authenticity of a movie depicting an era all too real.

At the 1-hour 47-minute mark, Robert DeNiro's character, Frank "The Irishman" Sheeran – who had just been shown opening fire at Umberto's Clam House in Little Italy, killing American Gangster and the Colombo family's own, "Crazy Joe" Gallo in cold blood, and disposing of the murder weapon in the bay – is sitting down at his kitchen table to enjoy a bowl of cereal. A thick New York accent in the background starts to recount the grisly apparent sequence of events that occurred in the earlier, wee morning hours. Frank looks over at his daughter, Peggy, who is standing disconcertingly in the doorway. Then, the camera focuses on the small Sony Trinitron color television on the kitchen counter, and, in dull color, the speaker's seemingly expressionless face.

In fact, it is the first official report to the public, and the stoic storyteller is none other than Albert A. Seedman, arguably the most memorable and revered Chief in the history of the New York City Police Department.

For a good many who also watched the news on their analog television screens, listened to the AM radio or read the papers during the city's turbulent 60's and 70's, to those who properly studied the history of the mobster playground, or, last but not least, who served in 'New York's Finest' – they witness an unmistakable voice and face.

For Friday, April 7, 1972 was one of quite a few memorable days in an outstanding life lived; NYPD Chief Seedman – who captured domestic terrorists and also oversaw the Kitty Genovese case, which infamously inspired the "bystander effect" psychological phenomenon since referenced the world over – was no stranger to reporters and the media. Furthermore, his persona is distinct and to this day, even the least of raconteurs accessorize their stories with tailored shirts embroidered “Al” bearing cuff links as shiny as the jeweled rings he wore on multiple fingers, to the often unlit cigar clenched between his lips. In certain respects, it wouldn't be a true instance of the legend without the decorative details. Less talked about is the pearl-handled revolver and the fact that – despite visiting thousands of crime scenes, including live-action – the civil servant never used it.

With a character that has been studied and imitated for use in motion pictures and television series, said to have included Eischied and Kojak, contemporary pop culture has been impacted by Seedman in ways that we cannot even possibly track. Much of the available information on the internet describes him as 'looking more the part of the gangsters he hunted than of a Chief of Detectives'; ironically, Seedman was far from Italian or even Irish – the dominant background of those in the force and those who drove its deep culture – and to this day remains the only Jew to ever hold such a ranking.

Actually, it was Seedman's intelligent demeanor and careful yet natural delivery of words that is perhaps most noteworthy; the release of specific details and withholding of others – to the public and even to his detectives during investigations – led to developments, breakthroughs and even the discovery of indisputable evidence and testimony that solved the most notorious cases of the time.

The nearly 50-year-old, nostalgically-grainy interview that we all saw of Seedman this week comes from a slightly longer footage, at one point accessible to most anyone via the NBCUniversal online archives; in a long black coat, he is shown walking from a police car on a particularly gloomy day and into the since-relocated corner restaurant, to the scene of the crime. Throughout the last decade, Seedman has graced our screens – PCs, lap tops, tablets and phones alike – via superlative networks such as the National Geographic, as a preeminent figure when it comes to retelling a bit of the tale and, in a way, transporting us back in time. Becoming as much as a bygone element of the story for most spectators and critics, the short snippet – long, relative to movie-time – has thus fulfilled its purpose. The clip of Chief Albert Seedman is nonetheless not only appropriate but at home in a Robert DeNiro, Al Pacino, & Joe Pesci blockbuster.

The film is certainly making the rounds, evidenced by coverage on almost every major outlet and its viral social media engagement – albeit after being promoted on the most ubiquitous live streaming service in the world – much anticipated after the New York Short Film Festival enjoyed its debut in late September and limited theatrical releases in greater New York, New York and Los Angeles, California shortly thereafter.

A very small fraction of the film's audience, Chief Seedman's family, is experiencing something different from the rest – a feeling with which most cannot resonate, not to mention is difficult to even pinpoint. It might be initial excitement turned to delight and pride – though, if they were to take a page from his book, precisely page one of "Chief!" – they might be reminded to be modest. With several high profile political figures of the time knowing him on a first-name basis, having often been called hundred if not thousands of times as an expert witness, a pre-tabloid New York Post regular at the pique of his career, and as the subject of a front and multi-page feature in The New York Times, the legacy of their beloved has naturally been resurfacing for years – Wikipedia citations to five second cameos, no less dear. Now, thanks to a few producers and editors, "Dad", "Pop", "Pop-Pop", "Uncle Al" has made his biggest debut to date.

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