This Thing of Ours

The true story of a good girl who married a seriously bad boy.

A handsome Italian film producer and a beautiful Mexican dancer . . . a match made on a movie set and a lavish Beverly Hills wedding . . . the beginning of Cammy Franzese’s true story sounds like an exotic fairy tale.

But a closer look at her marriage to mafia capo Michael Franzese exposes more than a decade of anguish endured in the shadows of her husband’s crimes. The fear of arrest, the prison sentences, the house raids from federal agents—Cammy lived through it all, not knowing whether her family could remain unbroken amid the turmoil and uncertainty that accompanied her husband’s life of crime.

This Thing of Ours is the poignant story of a young woman married to a powerful mobster—and the God who is more powerful still.

A sample of This Thing of Ours

I shuffled down the gray corridor, my wrists tightly bound by steel handcuffs that dug into my skin. Silent tears streamed down my face, turning it into a makeup-smeared wetland, and my shoulders were shaking. But I knew I couldn’t let my crying be audible. I had to fake some semblance of strength, so I looked straight ahead, making eye contact with no one. The individual jail cells that lined the hallway on each side were brimming with women in the same indistinguishable beige (and very itchy) uniform I was wearing. They didn’t hesitate to stare me down and obnoxiously greet me. The mesh of high-pitched voices, giggles, and whistles rang loudly in my ears.

“Hey you, what are you doing here?”

“Lookit that beauty!”

“What are you? A drug dealer? You from Colombia?”

“Nah, she’s the wife of a drug dealer.”

The women continued their catcalls and sarcastic comments as I was shoved into a private cell. A million thoughts ran through my mind. What’s going on? Does this have anything to do with Michael? And what about the kids? What is going to happen to them? What on earth am I doing here? What am I doing here?—now, that was the million-dollar question.

Only a few hours earlier I was getting my three children, Miquelle, Amanda, and Michael Jr., up and ready for the day. It was the beginning of 1992, and my husband, notorious mobster Michael Franzese, was in prison for the second time. A former caporegime (high-ranking member) in the Colombo crime family, Michael had served four years in jail beginning in 1985, the same year we got married. He had copped a plea to racketeering and conspiracy and was given a ten-year prison sentence. When he got out in 1989, after serving only a partial sentence, he landed himself back in jail thirteen months later on a parole violation. He would stay there another four years. That morning, as I shook my kids out of their nighttime haze, telling them for the umpteenth time to wake up, my husband was sitting in solitary confinement in a prison across town. It was true solitary confinement, mainly for his safety.

A knock interrupted the early-morning frenzy. The kids were still in their rooms, making feeble attempts to get up. When I opened the front door, I was disgusted to find Detective Prieto standing there. I knew him well because of my husband. This guy had been on Michael’s tail from the very beginning. Matter of fact, he was the one who had arrested Michael the first time around. He was a very mean and vindictive man who didn’t hide the fact that he had it in for our family.

“Camille Franzese, we have a warrant for your arrest,” he said without the slightest bit of emotion.

What?

•              •              •

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I chose to marry Michael even though he had a colorful background (the full extent of which I still don’t know). But as a result of my jail experience, the bubble of confidence I once had in him and in our relationship burst. See, I was used to certain things. I was used to Michael fixing things that went wrong. I was used to his reassurances that everything would be okay (because nine times out of ten, it would). Michael, in his inimitable way, was always able to work out any problem that came our way.

My being thrown in jail without any known cause, however, was something he couldn’t fix. He couldn’t talk his way out of the mess I was in. He couldn’t tell me not to worry. He couldn’t give me a reason why this was happening and tell me it was ridiculous and a big mistake and that he’d get me out within the hour. The insecurity shook me, and I found myself pushing him off the pedestal where I had positioned him for the longest time.

Depressed, I started to evaluate my life. During this time, my mother, a strong Christian woman who was a faithful prayer warrior, kept telling me to have faith. “God will use this experience,” she said. Sure, I had faith, but I also had a lot of questions.

What am I doing, living this kind of life?

What does the future hold?

What am I sacrificing for my family?

Did I sign up for this?

If God was in the middle of orchestrating a brilliant plan, I couldn’t see it. But my mother could, and she continued to encourage me to pray. To believe. To trust God. And in more small ways than big, I started allowing Him to move in me and change me in ways only He could. One step at a time.

Excerpted from This Thing of Ours © 2012 by Camille Franzese. Published by Thomas Nelson. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Cammy Franzese was the oldest of seven children. Her father was a radical Chicano rights activist, while her mother was a devout Christian woman who, despite her husband’s radical ways, raised her children to seek God first.

Cammy was a member of a prominent dance team when she was chosen to dance in the movie Knights of the City, where she captured the heart of the film’s executive producer, Michael Franzese. She and Michael were married in 1985.

Cammy played a major role in her infamous husband’s decision to walk away from his former life and was once described as “the woman who changed the face of organized crime in America.” While Michael has become a public symbol of a man changed by the grace of God, Cammy has been his rock, standing by him through his struggles.

Cammy is always willing to share her testimony with others, encouraging them in the knowledge that God is the foundation upon which a healthy relationship is built.