Criminal history: Philly's other dubious landmarks

The Philadelphia Historical Commission may soon consider designating the former home of mob boss Angelo Bruno as a historic landmark. Such a dubious distinction would certainly provide a more expansive view of the city's history, shameful as well as proud. Just think of all the other Philadelphia "landmarks" that could offer similar context by recognizing the darker chapters of the city's past.

At the top of the list is City Hall, already a landmark though not officially noted as a nexus of white-collar crime. Certain rooms within deserve particular notice.

In the mayor's office, a diagram showing where the FBI hid a bug in 2003 would be helpful, since it went undetected for months before Mayor John Street went looking for it. City Council's chambers would need an extra-large plaque to describe the antics of those who have presided behind its double doors. No one should forget its historic role in Abscam, the FBI sting conducted at the old Barclay Hotel on Rittenhouse Square, which took down three Council members in the 1980s.

City Hall's tower could memorialize former Councilman Rick Mariano, who held himself hostage there in 2005 after learning about pending federal criminal charges against him in a zoning matter. Some of the Second Empire-style building's musty courtrooms might be marker-worthy, too, including those once presided over by judges who took bribes and fixed cases for the roofers' union.

Only a few blocks south of our historic government center, the Palm restaurant deserves attention. Just five years ago, an informant slipped a Tiffany bracelet to a city Traffic Court judge there as the two famously toasted "to making money."

Nearby Liberty Place isn't just the pair of skyscrapers that broke the informal building height limit long set by Billy Penn's hat atop City Hall. As long as we're considering memorializing Mafia history, the towers' developer, Willard Rouse, also stood tall when he refused to give mobster "Little Nicky" Scarfo and former Councilman Leland Beloff $1 million to let him build it.

While many have visited the Parking Authority ticket office at Ninth and Filbert, few know that it was where Joseph Hoffman fixed a historic 125,000 tickets worth up to $6 million in just six years. Tragically, Hoffman's 2005 prison sentence ended his dream of becoming a Traffic Court judge. And then there's the old Traffic Court building on Spring Garden. The court became history in 2013 after a probe into widespread ticket-fixing for the political elite as well as, in one case, for porn and crab cakes.

Beyond Center City, Vince Fumo's South Philly offices, known to staff as "the bunker," may get a nod. So too La Veranda, the restaurant on the Delaware River where the state senator held court - until a court sent him up the river for raiding a civic group's funds.

Before the city's dominant Democrats made all this questionable history, its Republicans immolated their own reign in scandal 70 years ago. A lovingly restored ruin of that empire is the United Republican Club in Kensington, which is also notable for its architecture.

Even if the Historical Commission dismisses these ideas as ridiculous, the sites could make for a fascinating trolley tour when the Democratic National Convention is held in Philadelphia this summer. Perhaps the city's Democratic boss, Bob Brady, could serve as guide, regaling the delegates with stories from the lesser-known history of America's Athens.