

The Quiet Fighter

By Edward Cartagena

Copyright 2012

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### Chapter 1

The gang and I were walking on White Plains road in The Bronx, New York in 1975. It was Big Mike, Russ, Petey, Michael, and me. We were just shootin' the breeze and looking in the store windows. Big Mike said, "you guys want to play some stick ball today?" Everyone was like, yea let's do it! Out of nowhere, a beat cop down the street said, "hey you!" All of a sudden everyone just tore out! I wasn't waitin' around to see what was happening, so I took off too. We came flying around the corner and everyone was running as hard as they could. I could hear my heart racing and my breathing sounded deep and hard. I was so scared. We were on our escape route and everyone was running for his life. As we turned the corner, we turned down a driveway half way down the block, and then ran to the fence. In one jump, we flipped our bodies over the fence one after another, like we've all done a hundred times. That put us behind the stores in an empty lot. We then jumped another fence to an alley way to Furman Ave., cut across the street between cars, went to the back of an apartment building through the alley, then into the building to the lobby and took an elevator to the roof. When we got to the roof, everyone was relieved and breathing hard. I said, "That sucka can't catch us man." This is how we rolled in The Bronx.

### The Bronx, New York

My name is Eddie. I was born in the south Bronx, New York in 1966. I don't really know anything about my birth. No information was ever given to me accept the name, Lebanon hospital. The Bronx, New York was an old place from a distant era. I remember the old stores with wood floors, the soda fountains with the spinning stools, the Italian bakeries (oh they smelled so good!), and of course the pizzeria's I loved so much. All the shopping stores and restaurants were on the main road—White Plains Road. The buildings were old: like the train stations, the schools, and the churches. The older buildings gave The Bronx character and made it feel like this was a place to be from. Life in The Bronx flourished underneath the "El." The "El" is short for the elevated train as opposed to the subway, which was underground. The El ran straight down White Plains road and it was elevated in the Bronx or at least in the Bronx where I lived, unlike New York City. The El was old. It looked like a huge construction of steel from another era. When I see it now, I just think how it's a beautiful piece of Victorian architecture, but it's hard to believe the Victorians could put together such a sophisticated modern transportation system--The best in the United States, since the 1800's!

I always felt like we were characters of the time (the 1970's) living in this old city that many generations had passed through, with each generation always changing and The Bronx staying the same. I loved the Bronx. This was my home.

I remember hearing the church bells from our one room apartment, which was in the basement of a house. It was a beautiful peaceful sound we heard regularly. This area of The Bronx was really nice, with tree-lined streets in some areas, houses and apartments everywhere, and stores and businesses on the El.

Furman Ave.

The Bronx was very much an old town of immigrants. Interestingly, almost none of the kids were immigrants; it was generations since our families came from different places. Most of my friends' families came from Italy and Ireland. I was the third generation to be raised in the Bronx from my maternal side of the family. My mom's family came from Cuba and my dad from Puerto Rico. There was no one with my ethnic background living in the neighborhood, but we were all Americans or more importantly New Yorkers from The Bronx. There were a lot of families on Furman Avenue. Furman had two sides of the street. The VFW and its parking lot were on corner of 238th street and a laundry mat across the street on the other side. Then there were rows of houses with a moderate size apartment building at the top of the street at 237th street. Furman ave. was shaped like a hill with 237th street on the top and 238th street on the bottom. Across the street, there was mainly tall large apartment building (old) with one house sandwiched right in the middle with a yard. Everyone thought that house was haunted. I remember running through the basements and back alleys of those buildings and even the rooftops everyday playing games. This was a nice area of The Bronx close to Yonkers and we were one block from the train station. All day I could see and hear the trains passing by. It was busy on the train line with people, buses, cars, stores, and some apartments. I can remember going shopping at the grocery store, walking and pulling a small carriage with our groceries in it because we never had a car in The Bronx. The train and bus were very efficient and effective modes of transportation. It's hard to imagine not having a car in America today. Yet in The Bronx few people owned a car. We walked to the laundry store, the candy store, hamburger joints, the comic book store, the toy store, Vinny's Pizzeria, and everything else. If we had to go further, we took the train or the bus.

There were no cell phones, no personal computers, no faxes, and certainly no Internet. We just got a color TV in the 1970's and we changed the channels by hand. We weren't missing anything. In other words, we weren't in a worse situation because we didn't have high technology. Technology was never that important. Our lives were great without high technology. Can you imagine that today? We had technology but it was mostly low tech.

### Ma

I spent my entire childhood in a single parent household living with my mother. I called her ma. My mother was a young mother in the 70's; she was in her 20's. My mom was a hard worker and she was always working, leaving in the morning and coming back around 6pm every night. Her career was in corporate America. She worked as a keypunch operator, customer service rep, and a secretary. I remember my mom took me to her workplace in New York City. She worked for Eastman Kodak in a skyscraper. I would look out the window and see large portions of New York City. People looked like ants down below from high up where we were. Back then the business world did not have personal computers so my mom keypunched everything in to some mega computer. Everyone was very nice to me at work especially Helen, my mom's supervisor. Originally, she was from Poland. Helen would come by our place in The Bronx occasionally to say hello and I remember she would always bring Polish Keilbasa sausage. I loved that sausage man. Helen was a very nice lady.

My mom was a quiet person with some artistic ability. When I was a kid she used to paint occasionally. Ma was a small woman. She had long dark course hair and she was lighter in complexion then I but darker than my dad. My mom was an attractive woman but she never thought so. Very often, I would be sitting at the table with my mom and she wouldn't say anything. She was very introverted and just not very expressive. Talking would stress my mom out. She would tell me, "shut up!" "Excuse me", I'd said. My mom was a hard, harsh woman. She used corporal punishment frequently. When I was a child, if my mom felt I was being disrespectful or not extremely obedient I got a smack across the face. Not only was it painful but also I was very embarrassed because she hit me in front of people. I got smacked in the grocery store, on the train, in the bus, at school, just anywhere. Corporal punishment was more common back then, not that it was right. There was rarely if ever any apologies or expressions of love. I wasn't disciplined that way. It was stay in line or else! My mom had no sympathy; she was just brutal. That style of discipline really destroyed any chance of ever having a loving relationship. It was hard and painful never having any love from my mother or my father. My home life was just about violence and abandonment.

### My Family

My mom's family came from Cuba in the early 1900's. Paulina, my great grandmother, was the pioneer in our family who came from Cuba with her family including her husband Cresencio. I remember Paulina very well. She was in her 80's when I was a boy. She appeared to be suffering from Alzheimer's. I remember going over to aunt Cha's (Paulina's daughter) house and hanging out with my cousins' Dino and Joey. We were eating with Paulina and she used to flush her food in the toilet. Sadly she was afraid her food was being poisoned. We used to tell on her like she was a little girl. "Ma, grandma threw her food in the toilet." Also I remember Paulina could only speak Spanish. In fact, one time my dad came over and they spoke together in Spanish. That's the most I ever heard Paulina speak.

My father was born in Puerto Rico but was as American as anyone else. I idolized my dad as a boy. He was a hero to me. My dad was a good size man 5'10" 200lbs, brownish straight soft hair, and fair skin. My dad was very different from my mom. He was very loving and much more of a teacher to me. My dad was always teaching me something about The Bronx, Puerto Ricans, women, etc. He was very philosophical. My dad had a large collection of books and I assume he read.

My parents were divorced by the time I was two years old, so I never remember being apart of a family. Considering that, I didn't feel bad about divorce early on, that's just the way it was. In my adulthood, now I realize how destructive divorce has been on my life.

My dad started his career on Wall Street as far as I know, but his career seemed to go down hill steadily. In my childhood he was a salesmen for Miller beer. He sold Miller Lite, Budweiser, Heineken, and Pink Champale among the line of beers. Later he worked in a token booth for the Transit Authority, then a taxi cab driver.

No matter what job my dad had, I always knew where to find him—the OTB. That stands for Off Track Betting. My dad liked to gamble.

My dad was single and you could tell. We had an apartment in the south Bronx in Parkchester. The only thing I remember in the refrigerator was beer and lots of it (He did work for Miller). He left drugs, liquor, and pornography lying around the apartment. I had no clue or interest as a little boy, but that changed, as I got older. This is how I got my start. The 1970's were a different time. Drugs were everywhere in The Bronx and everyone seemed to be doing them, except my mother. My mother didn't smoke or drink. My mom was very serious and religious.

Parkchester was a large apartment and cooperative community (condo's). It was pretty with all the green lawns, lots of stores and a movie theater. It was like a city onto itself. I'd spend the weekends there with my dad and my dad was always partying or bringing women over. I'd go to my room and my dad would disappear for the rest of the night with the women in his room. Clearly, this wasn't a place for a kid.

In the day, I would play baseball with the kids who lived there. We would have a lot of fun. I loved playing baseball and although I never got to know the Parkchester guys that well because I didn't live there full time. I knew who they were. I remember a couple of kids, Andre and Kevin and seeing them many years later in the height of the hip hop movement when we were coming of age.

My earliest memories were living on 236th street off White Plains road. A lot of my mom's family lived in the area. In fact, back then everybody lived in the New York area: My aunt Junie on Long Island. Aunt Junie and Uncle Anthony had four children: Charlie, Donnie, Frankie and Christina. I spent many summers in the "country" visiting them on Long Island. Aunt Junie was always so nice to me. Aunt Junie was my favorite relative. She seemed to care about me, something I never really had from an adult. Chris and I played together a lot when we were young and I played with her friends. She was one of my best cousins. Frankie was older than I. He would just beat me up, with professional wrestling moves like and atomic elbow drop or a drop kick. Donnie was a much older teen and Charlie was a young adult when I was a kid. Uncle Anthony was always nice to me too. I would always see him in the Bronx. Sometimes he would take me home if he saw me hanging out on the streets. It was always fun being at Aunt Junie's. I especially like pizza night on Friday's.

Aunt Margaret and Uncle Bill lived in New Jersey. We would go over to their place a lot. Mikey and I would hang out all over their small town. Mikey was one of my best cousins. Aunt Margaret's kids were Jimbo, Billy, Gigi, and Jeanie who were all much older than Mikey and me.

Uncle Kenny was living on the island. I can barely ever remember seeing Uncle Kenny and his family. I don't know why.

Uncle Lou and Aunt Margie lived in the Bronx. Davey was one of my favorite cousins and Vic was cool. Vic was one of the only big kids in the Bronx that didn't beat me up.

My aunt Cha, Barbara, aunt Nena, my grandmother Nonnie, and other family members all lived there. Nonnie died of cancer when I was a little boy. She was very loving to me, but I never really had any grandparents. My dad lived in the South Bronx, near my paternal grandmother, and aunt Nilda and uncle Charlie; they lived in Queens. We had a lot of family connections there as a young boy. I always felt at home in The Bronx.

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### Chapter 2

### The Yankees

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### The Bronx was a great place for baseball; for goodness sake it was the home of the New York Yankees! The old timers at the candy store or the barbershop told many stories. Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Babe Ruth were some of the Yankee legends of The Bronx. Baseball and The Bronx went hand and hand. In my time as a boy I'll never forget the World Series between the Yankees and the Dodgers. It must have been 1977 and my childhood hero Reggie Jackson hit 3 homers in the same game. We beat the Dodgers to become the world champs. That was one of the great moments of my young life. I remember Thurmon Munson, Craig Nettles, Willie Randolph, and Goose Gossage among Reggie's teammates. I used to collect baseball cards seriously and trade and flip cards all day. That was a big thing at school. Flipping was like gambling with your cards and you could win all someone's card or lose all your cards. At times I lost them all. I also liked the gum that came with the cards. My friends and I would go to the candy store on the corner to buy cards as often as we could and the flipping and gum chewing would begin.

Life on Furman Ave.

Our block, Furman Avenue was actually one block in the Bronx between 237th Street and 238th one block from White Plains road. The buildings on Furman were not Victorian. Maybe the earliest I would guess would be the 1920's to 1940's. I lived in one room basement apartment in a private house. Our bathroom was the size of a small hallway closet for jackets and umbrellas. There was a backyard but I could only look out the window because it was the owner's backyard, where he grew vegetables and behind the yard was an empty lot in the back of the commercial buildings on White Plains road. Even though, we lived in one room I never thought of ourselves as poor. I didn't know what poor was and I knew kids worse off than me.

One of the realities of being a street kid was that I became a street fighter on Furman Avenue. I had to be. I knew even as a little boy that it was fight or run. I decided to fight. The street kids were going to beat me everyday if I didn't get tough. This was the way of the streets. It was misguided but it was a survival strategy. I had no guidance because I had no father and to a serious extent no mother. We were taught to be ruthless, tough, and loyal to the gang. We protected each other from outsiders. Although I was a punk, I was still a boy. Yea I was afraid. I was on my own in the streets at nine years old.

My friends on Furman Ave.

The boys on the block were Michael (Big Mike) and Bobbie, they were cousins. Mike and Bobby were Irish. Michael was one of the older boys. I was 9 years old so Michael must have been maybe 14 years old. Big Mike was tall and blonde. He was the leader in the neighborhood and probably the toughest kid. He could be mean and would just beat someone up if they got out of line or if some stranger came around the neighborhood. Bobbie was my age. Michael lived with his mother and sister. Bobbie lived with his mom and dad and his grandfather. I remember his grandfather was always outside talking to us. Bobbie's dad was the maintenance man for the apartment building and he seemed like he was always working. He wore a blue workers uniform and always looked dirty from his work. Bobbie's dad was a big man too. He would see us and say "What are you's doin'?" "Hangin' out dad", Bobbie would say.

Jimmy and Pete were brothers and Irish too. Both were big thick strong kids with sandy brown hair. Jimmy was more of a wise guy than Pete. They lived in a nice apartment across the street. I don't remember ever seeing their parents. Then there was Dean; he was an "Italian kid" who lived down the block in a nice apartment with his parents. Dean was an older kid like Big Mike and Jimmy. He was tall like Mike and he was a good-looking kid. Dean got along with everyone and I think he may have been from a wealthier family than the rest of us. Dean and I had a schnauzer dog, which we both liked to talk about. We shared enthusiasm for reading comics but we all liked comic books. Then there was Dominic and Michael who were two brothers who were Italian and they were younger than myself. They were both two good kids. Michael and Dominic were very poor. Both boys had fair skin and dark hair. They actually lived off the block close to 232nd street with their mom and sister. Their sister Mary hung out with one of the only other girls on the block, Michelle, my neighbor in the private house next door. Michelle was a pretty blonde girl I always had a crush on. Last but not least there was Russ. Russ was a small rambunctious Irish kid who lived next to the El on 238th street with his dad and two older sisters (high school age). Russ had a fair skin with dark hair. He was small but a wise guy and always doing some kind of dare. There were also two little boys younger than I that lived in a private house. Terrance and Marcus were brothers and the only black family on the street. They weren't apart of the gang because they weren't allowed out alone, but we would play often in front of their house. We played games like marbles or bottle caps. They were very nice boys, probably a middle class family, living with their mother and father.

It's sad how we all put ourselves in these groups "Italian," "Irish," "Black." None of my friends were born in Italy or Ireland or Africa. These were just labels to determine who was in and out. I never felt comfortable calling myself these labels. I always just thought of myself as an American and we were all Americans but didn't treat ourselves as the same. I guess that's a label too.

My experience moving into the neighborhood is a very fitting example of The Bronx. My mom worked all day and I went to school. So my mom at first hired a baby sister. That happened to be Big Michael's sister. I remember the first time Michael saw me he wanted to beat me up and his sister was trying to hold him back from punching me in the face. He didn't listen to them. It took awhile to become accepted into the neighborhood. I remember meeting Bobbie for the first time and having a slug out with him. He punched me in the face and I punched him a couple of times. I also had a slug out with Petey too. Not to mention the other guys throwing me in a refrigerator cardboard box and smothering me in there by jumping all over it, while I was in it. Yes I was initiated well into the gang on Furman Ave. My life on the street was full of adventure and dare.

### Games

We played games all day back in the Bronx. Stick ball, football, curb ball, wall ball, manhunt, flipping cards, marbles, bottle caps and many more. We played all these games without leaving the block. I always had fun and loved hanging out with my friends. One of my favorite games was Man Hunt. We played this game often into the night. Basically, there were two teams with boundaries, and the boundaries were the rooftop to the back ally, and up to the next block. One team would count and the other hides. Then the man hunters would track down the hiding team. All the boys and girls would play, so I remember chasing after kids in alleyways, building basements, behind cars and through buildings. It was fun and adventurous. Once we captured a kid we brought them back to jail. One of his or her teammates could sneak up to the jail and tag their teammate to be free and get away. We always had a guard on the base to defend the jail and capture anybody trying to free kids. We went on into the dark of the night playing Man Hunt and never wanted to stop. It was so much fun we all just loved playing and back then it was all the kids in the neighborhood playing until ma yelled, "Eddie! Come and eat dinner!" What a great time to be a kid. The Bronx was a safe place before the summer of 1977.

### The Summer of 77'

I think everything changed in the summer of 77'. Several events changed how people were feeling about The Bronx. One was the oil shortage. People were lining up for gas and gas prices were rising. The economy wasn't good either. We never had a car so this didn't affect us too much. The next event did have an effect on us—The Black Out. One day in the summer of 77' everybody lost power to their houses and businesses. People just started freaking out and looting everything. Breaking in businesses, stealing, just acting crazy, hurting people. It was a mass mayhem. This event made people feel uneasy. Are we safe living here? The other event was the Son of Sam. He was a mass murderer who was killing women all over The Bronx and New York. It seemed like someone was being murdered every week and someplace was being burned down. Fear was beginning to set in. People were getting scared to go outside or let their kids out anymore. They eventually caught the Son of Sam; he lived in Yonkers. I also watched the south Bronx burn down. Entire blocks and neighborhoods were lost to greedy landlords who burned their apartment buildings down for insurance money. There was never justice. The south Bronx looked like a war zone. It was. Greed and racism were in charge and the south Bronx is a picture of what that looks like. The Bronx would never recover. These events changed our lives.

### Playing Hooky

Playing hooky meant not going to school when you were supposed to. To often, we were not in school. Typically, at 9 years old my mom and I would go to the train station. She would be on one side going to New York City and I would be one the other going to the last stop on the El. From there I was supposed to go to school, instead, as I watched my mom leave I would head over to the sand box on the El and put my books in the box, then leave to pick up my friends. It's hard to believe 9-year old kids were riding the train by themselves but that was the times. People didn't worry about children getting hurt in the 1970's the way they do today. Anyway, I'd go pick up Russ, Michael, Petey, or Big Mike. We would go the comic book store and steal comic books, then head for the roofs and read comics all morning. I read hundreds of comics. Stealing was wrong but I learned to love books by reading comics. Unfortunately, I didn't learn in school. I really didn't like school in The Bronx. It never really worked for me. Actually I hated school. I read comics like the Fantastic Four, Spiderman, the Avengers, X-men, The Thing, and most of the Marvel comics. My favorite group was the Fantastic Four. It was composed of The Thing (Ben Grimm), Mr. Fantastic (Richard Reed), his wife The Invisible Woman (Sue Storm), and the Human Torch (Johnny Storm). They were scientist who were in outer space and exposed to gamma rays and transformed with super human powers. The Thing became tough because he was made out of rock and he was very strong. My favorite line of the thing became "it's clobberin' time!" Then Mr. Fantastic was like the Plastic Man—stretchy. Sue Storm transformed to the Invisible woman, and Johnny Storm turned into a flying fireball, the human torch. They were cool and always saving the earth against danger and attack from Dr. Doom, the Hulk, or some other villain.

### Fire cracker incident

One day I was playing with firecrackers in the front hallway of the apartment down the street near the laundry mat. Michael was playing with me. We were just having fun shooting off firecrackers, not getting into any trouble or anything. In the course of lighting a firecracker his pants caught on fire. He got frantic screaming, "I'm on fire!" I tried to help by hitting his pants to smother the fire and it worked. The fire was out. I was even a little scared. His leg may have been a little burned. He went home and I didn't thinking anything of it. The next day my mom wanted to talk to me. She said, "I heard that you put Michael on fire." I adamantly denied this but she didn't believe me. My mom badly beat me with a belt, even though I pleaded with her that I had put the fire out, to help Michael.

### Fighting Irish boy in front of his family

One summer day, I went to the candy store, which was around the corner from the laundry. The candy store was a center of life for people in the neighborhood. You could buy the newspaper, cigarettes, candy, yoohoo's, or baseball cards. Anyway, on my way out of the store, I bumped into a neighborhood kid my age but not in my gang. He was out there with his Irish father and other family members. It was an accident that I bumped him and he was ready to move on but his father told him, "kick his spic ass!" So we got into a fight. I punched him in the face a few times and then we started wrestling on the ground. There was broken glass all over the ground and I was cut across my arm and bleeding. His father and family were rooting for him the whole time and he was pressured to fight me. After I saw the blood, I really pounded on him. I embarrassed him in front of his whole family and I got out of there quick before they ganged up on me. People were openly hostile towards my ethnicity. I was nothing more than a derogatory ethnic label—"spic." Hatred, hostility, and violence, that's how I was treated; I wasn't one of them.

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### Hit by car

The first near death incident occurred in second grade. I went all the way over to Gun Hill road to go to P.S. 41. It was adjacent to the projects. The kids would play in the playground before school started then go to class. I was walking to school on my own. Our school was an old school, very grand, made out of brick. It had large concrete playground areas and there were lots of kids at the school. I really don't remember much of the school anymore, but it was similar to many public schools in New York. At the turn of the century, schools were monuments to learning. They were important building to enter. I think they were also very intimidating. I remember the school located on the bottom of a hill. The playground was old with all steel pipe equipment in the playground the way they constructed them a hundred years ago. One thing striking to me when I look at my class pictures from back then is how diverse The Bronx was. My class had white kids, black kids, Hispanic kids, foreigners, boys and girls, wealthy/poor, different religions, etc. For the 1970's that's incredible to me (It was the era of desegregation). Now schools seem much less diverse today, like we've gone back to segregation, the normal way things are done in America.

One day in the morning I was walking down the hill to go to school. It was a nice day and I remember feeling happy and excited to go to school. We had a crossing guard at the bottom of the hill but I quickly and without thought cut through one of the cars parked on the street. I ran across the street without looking both ways. That's the last thing I remember. I have no memory of being hit by a car. I woke up several times after being struck. The first time I woke up to all my teachers standing over me. They were talking while I was lying on the ground. Then I passed out again. The second time I woke up in the ambulance and the last time, at the hospital. I really feel that the Lord intervened and saved my life. It was a miracle that I was alive, and I wasn't even scratched! Easily, I could have been killed and for some reason that day the Lord let me live. It was a miracle. I've always believed and had a feeling that the Lord had a plan for me.

### Train track incident

The second near death incident happened when me and the boys, Petey, Michael, and Dominic were playing hooky one day. We were going to the El and as usual we hopped the trains (went under or over the turnstile without paying). We would wait on the platform by the booth where the clerk would sell tokens. They knew we were going to hop the train and there was nothing they could do about it. We were at 232nd street. We were talking when this man started saying something to us. "Hey come over here!" Next thing I know we started running. We ran up to the platform and we all went in different directions. Michael and me got on the side going towards 238th street, Pete and Dominic, went towards the other direction, Gun Hill Rd. We got on the tracks and started to run towards 238th street on the tracks above the street—far above the street. It must have been two stories or more in the air with concrete and cars beneath. We were running full speed to get away when I tripped, and almost fell off the El. I fell to the edge of the tracks and I could see the cars and ground beneath me. It terrified me. I took a minute to realize the magnitude of the danger I was in before I got up from the edge. Then I got up and started to walk briskly and carefully. Suddenly, a train started coming in our direction. We were afraid; the train was coming right at us. The engineer drove all the way to us and stopped. The conductor got out and said, "Give me your hand!" Then he pulled us aboard the train. We were safe. The conductor was angry that we were on the tracks and said "what are you kids doing on the tracks?'" We told him about the guy after us. We got off at 238th street. The strange guy actually didn't come after us; he went the other way after Petey and Dominic. We waited at the train stop until Petey and Dominic came back. Petey said that the stranger chased them the other way and caught them at the train station and cut him with a knife. He had scratches all over his face. Fortunately, they got away some how. I realized afterwards how I could have lost my life by falling off the tracks. It was a miracle. God was there again protecting a 10 year old street kid.

### Near drowning

The third near death situation began one summer day when the whole gang from Furman Ave decided to go to a public pool in Yonkers. Yonkers wasn't far away. We used to walk to Yonkers across the bridge and be in downtown Yonkers. I remember Yonkers being a nice town back then. It was clean, quiet, and small. It was strange to me to be living in New York and being so close to such opposite cities. New York City and Yonkers. How could that be? New York City was a large monster and Yonkers a quiet small town. Anyway, we went to a large public pool. We were there on our own and everybody was swimming. I was swimming in the shallow end. Living in the city we didn't really swim that much. We would go to the beach every summer. Orchard Beach, in The Bronx and Jones Beach, in Long Island, were our favorites. I wasn't a very good swimmer at 10 years old. As I was swimming in the shallow end I unintentionally swam deeper and deeper into the pool. I found myself in a bad situation, unable to swim and drowning. I couldn't get myself to safety and I couldn't stand anymore. All I could do was go to the bottom and push myself up, but I couldn't see where or what I was doing. There was no way to call out to anyone. I was actually going deeper and deeper into the pool, to the point where I was dead still in the water. I was screaming for help but no one could here me. I was drowning in the middle of the pool with people all around me and life guards near by. I can remember telling myself not to give up, but I was getting tired. I finally grabbed a man and said, "I'm drowning!" I was frantically asking for help. He picked me up and threw me deeper into the water, and went about swimming again. I was desperately trying to survive and completely out of control with no ability to help myself. I was thinking I was going to die. I had no control. I couldn't see where I was and I didn't know what I was doing. In the last moment, I began to sink to the bottom of the pool dying, when all of a sudden a man grabbed my hand and pulled me up, and then he swam me to the side. He asked me if I was ok? I said, "yea," but I was exhausted and breathing hard. He told me to stay on the side. This guy saved my life. I felt a tremendous sense of relief and I went home just thankful to be alive. Years later I realized again how lucky I was that I didn't die and I ask myself why God decided to give me a chance again? It was a miracle.

### Drugs

Drugs were an everyday reality of the 1970's. "Everybody" was doing drugs even little kids. Kids were smoking cigarettes and marijuana, drinking beer and liquor, and doing hard-core drugs. This was out of control. At ten years old I was exploring drugs but not really understanding or getting anything out of it. I was very afraid of the drug culture in The Bronx. The older kids especially Big Mike seemed to be deeply involved. The younger kids like myself weren't so involved. Michael hung out with much older kids probably 18 to 20 year old's who were punks in my mind. They were bringing Mike down and using him. They would make him steal and probably beat him up if he didn't. I don't remember Mike having a father. I looked up to Mike, which was unfortunate because of his negative influences, but on the positive side Mike was a tough kid I respected.

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### Working

Sometimes I would cut school just to work. The gang and me would earn money by waiting outside the grocery store for elderly people. We would offer to carry their groceries to their home for them. Everybody walked in The Bronx. Not like on the west coast where everybody drives their car. So older ladies would allow me to carry their groceries from the store to their home, and then they would give me a tip. I actually always made enough money for what I wanted-- pizza and comics, and maybe some candy. At lunchtime, I'd head down to Vinny's Pizzeria. Vinny's was "The" pizza shop. Vinny was a very nice Italian man. He always liked the kids. Sometimes when I didn't have money Vinny would give me pizza anyway. I was always at Vinny's with Big Mike, Bobbie, Pete or Dominic.

Another job I'd do was shoveling snow. I would knock on doors around the neighborhood and ask them if I could shovel their snow for them in the winter. I would easily make enough money for pizza and comics. Pizza was two slices and a coke for $1. Comics were twenty-five cents each. I didn't have any money or food so this is how I got it.

Regrettably we all did some irresponsible things. I can only ask for forgiveness from the Lord. We were misguided but we were just boys. Sometimes the older kids (18years old) would make us steal. We would do it out of fear of being beaten up, to be liked more by the big kids or just for kicks. It was apart of belonging to the neighborhood and proving yourself to be daring and willing to give to the gang. I really never got into any trouble and if I did, at 10 years old they would just let me go. Interestingly, looking back I had absolutely no positive male role models to look up to and a single female parented many of my friends. Not having a father was one of the most devastating losses of my life; broken families had a more profound impact on our society than we all realize.

One day I was walking on White Plains road around 238th street in front of the fruit stand (People in New York shopped at fruit stores and they had the fruit in baskets in the front of the store on the sidewalk). There was an older lady there buying fruit. I walked up behind her and she turned around towards me and I went to say, "can I"...but I didn't finish "help you with your groceries." When she freaked out. The lady lifted her cane to strike me when she fell down screaming, "Help! Help!" People started looking at me and they said, "Get that kid." I ran on my "get away route" as fast as I could. They looked for me a couple of days so I hid. Some days later I saw the old lady at the grocery store on 238th. I went over to her and said, "I was just trying to help you, when you got scared and fell." "Oh I see," she said. The older lady realized I meant no harm to her, and then she let me carry her groceries to her home and tipped me. The older lady became one of my best customers.

Anyway, when we worked hard and earned our way it was a very positive, affirming feeling that I still look back on today with pride. I love the entrepreneurialism that we displayed and the toughness to carry though to attain our goals. Of course I don't like that we weren't going to school, but I also understand the failures of the New York educational system and my parents, not to make excuses for myself. This is the past so I don't blame anyone, but this is what is was.

Chapter 3

### The South Bronx, Living with my dad

At one point, I lived with my dad in the south Bronx. The total time was one year and I was in third grade, although I always visited my dad on an ongoing basis. We lived with one of his girlfriends, Lydia. She was a tall, blondish, attractive, Puerto Rican woman. Lydia was always very nice to me and she always seemed to treat me with respect. I lived with my dad for at least a year and I attended school a few blocks away. The south Bronx had a dark, cold, menacing feel to it. P.S. 47 were a public school and it was a big school. It looked like a warehouse. P.S. 47 was 5 stories in the air. This school was also a nightmare for me. I walked to school everyday and often had gangs (Puerto Rican) chase me all the way to school. When school was over, they would chase me home. I remember one of my first days there. I was standing in line with all the other kids outside in the play area when a boy started circling me telling me, "I own you boy." I soon grew tired of this and beat the snot out of him. He never bothered me again. That was a scene I would become very familiar with – fighting. I had constantly fought to protect myself from bullies and gangs. I can remember losing my cool a few times. That's what we were taught. If someone "messes" with you, hit them as hard as you can. This strategy proved to be disastrous. You can only wonder where my parents or any adults were.

One day I was walking up the stairs back to my class from lunch when I bumped into a kid named Edwin. We got into a nasty brawl on the staircase. He bumped into me so I told him to watch where he was going. Then he got in my face, so we went at it, exchanging blows to the face and body. This was a tough kid and I respected his toughness. After that, we became good friends. Edwin became my buddy. I watched his back and he watched mine. We became an intimidating force just the two of us. However, we ultimately were challenged to our limitations.

One day Edwin and I were sitting having lunch. We finished eating then we went outside for recess. On our way out a kid bumped into me. He wanted to fight and I knocked him out. Then another of his friends came and another, next thing I knew Edwin and I were in a large gang fight. There were about six of them and just the two of us. We were beating them when suddenly one very large kid caught me by surprise and punched me right in the neck and knocked me out. I awoke later in the concrete playground. When I think about this behavior and the desperation to survive, it's hard to believe we're only talking about third grade. I can imagine that if I would have stayed in the south Bronx all my life I would have been dead before I was eighteen probably killed like so many kids there.

I loved my third grade teacher, Mrs. Robinson. She was beautiful and she seemed to really care about me. She was always disappointed when I got into trouble and always supportive of me. I felt like I let her down when I had a fight. One afternoon, a very aggressive girl to whom I had previously fought in the class said something to make me very angry. Yes girls fought against boys too. Some girls were bullies in fact. In this situation, I was out of control. I got up out of my seat and yelled at her.

We got into it, pulling hair, punching, and wrestling. I remember it ending with me kicking her over her desk. That was it for me. The school asked me to leave for good. I was expelled from school at 8 years old. My father didn't know what to do with me. I remember being over my grandmother's house on Boynton Avenue and my dad and uncle Charlie were over there. Uncle Charlie was married to my Aunt Nilda, my dad's sister. My dad said Uncle Charlie was Cuban. He was as dark as me and uncle Charlie was always very nice to me, giving me money to spend. My dad was going to beat me and my uncle Charlie kept saying "don't hit him Ed, don't hit him." I was really scared and my dad didn't hit me. He never did. My dad was very loving towards me when he paid attention to me.

I ended up going to another school up the street from my grandmother's house. It was bigger and I felt even more lost there. These schools were scary, impersonal, and not working for me.

Living with my dad in the south Bronx was a failure. So I went to 238th street to live with my mom again. That was the first time I had met the boys on Furman ave. I attended P.S. 41 in 4th-6th grade. I did better there but I still had occasional fights. I liked Furman Ave. (north Bronx) better than the south Bronx and I was safer there. I only had one bad incident there with a kid named bad Mike. He was one of the biggest kids in the class and he had major attitude problems. He walked around with his collar up on his jacket, pimp walking, and he held his chin out looking down with a growl on his face. Bad Mike was mean.

I was playing outside on the schoolyard one day when he approached me and for no reason kneed me in the "nuts." These were the kind of things bad Mike did. He intimidated everyone. I ended up in the hospital with ruptured testacles and I couldn't walk for a couple of weeks. There was also some bullying in the school at times. I remember when "Roots," the TV show, by Alex

Haley came out. It was a great show and shocked many people about slavery. However, the consequence in The Bronx was that we had "kill whitey" day out our elementary school. Black kids would go around in groups looking for white kids to kick the snot out of. They approached me by myself in the school yard and some of them said "let's kill him" and then someone said, "no man, he's not white, he's Puerto Rican, leave him alone." I was scared and lucky that day. When they found white kids they had to pay.

All the kids on Furman ave. were getting older now, including myself (12 years old). I was hanging out with Big Mike and other big kids and they were starting to do more serious drugs and having sex. I was scared because I was just a kid. I began to distance myself from them. They didn't like that. Mike started to come after me and try to beat me up. He would harass my mother and me and I felt threatened. I remember Mike would ring our bell on the door and run. We would answer the door and no one would be there. He did that repeatedly to intimidate us and my mom was getting mad.

There was a lot going on in the Bronx at that time in the summer of 77.' The black out's, the Son of Sam killing young women in New York, and the city was deteriorating. I guess it's no coincidence that we left the Bronx, my home. New York was getting bad. The Bronx was changing and the south Bronx was burning down. My mom made up her mind; we were leaving. The decision was either Rochester, New York or Lakewood, NJ. She chose Lakewood.

Chapter 4

### Lakewood, New Jersey

Coventry Square

My mom and I moved from The Bronx, New York to Lakewood, New Jersey in 1977. This was a radical change for me. Eastman Kodak, the old camera company moved from New York City to Lakewood, NJ and my mom made the move with her company. Coventry Square was the development we moved to in Lakewood. There were lots of Eastman Kodak employees in Coventry Square. Jeff, his wife and their two boys Jason and Jordan lived there. Walter and his family lived in Coventry too. I used to see

Jeff and Walter all the time and I really looked up to them. They were both Black men and they would always talk to me. Walter showed me how to shake hands with a brother. Coventry was a new world. I went from living in the city on the block and strongly identifying with my Bronx friends to living in a master planned type of community. Coventry Square was a middle class community and I grew to like it. I loved the small town sense of it. It was slow, natural, and people were nice. Coventry was enveloped in the Pine forest and designed in circler patterns. There were six or seven neighborhoods, so everyone identified with their particular circle. They called them courts. We lived in Williamsburg and I loved my friends there: Julio, Mark, Eric, Bonnie, Lisa, Teresa, Timmy, and Michelle. We loved to ride our bikes all around the community. The clubhouse was located at the center of Coventry and they held parties there and had pool tables where we could play pool everyday. It was a big clubhouse and it was beautiful like everything in the community wrapped in pine trees. Outside the clubhouse we had a nice pool with a diving board. Then next to the pool we had two tennis courts where we would play everyday. In the back of the community we had walkways, a basketball court and a baseball field. I was in heaven because I loved sports and that's all we did all day was play sports: Tennis, swimming, football, basketball, and baseball. It was just a

great community. People in the community were nice back then. I remember we knew everyone almost in our entire circle. We would talk to neighbors all the time and see people all day. My mom and I lived in one of the smaller townhouses. I think back then I was ashamed of living the smallest place because all my friends had larger places. I started to become aware of my status. My mom and I were a single parent family, which was rare back then. People just had more money than us, but I didn't understand that. I can remember people thinking that we were strange because I was from a divorced family. Now it's normal, in fact most people are not married anymore or divorced two or three times. But not back then.

In Lakewood there was no great transportation system so we got a car. For the first time, we drove everywhere. My mom bought a new Honda Civic Wagon and that was in 1978 or 1979. It's funny or maybe not, that most people never wore seat belts back then. I don't think anyone really perceived driving to be dangerous, although I don't think people drove as fast as they do today. It was fun driving around and much more private than taking the subway. Really, outside of New York, cars were the mode of transportation. We all studied and heard of the environmental pollution and everything, but no one really ever did anything about it and by the time we were adults, the environment was a catastrophe all over the United States.

### The Coventry Kids

Chris

Chris was a kid who lived almost behind my house. I think Chris was Italian. He had blonde curly hair. We were close in size. His mom, brother Mark, sister and stepfather lived together. He ended up being my best friend. We played every sport together and especially football. Chris was the quarterback and I was the wide receiver. We scored lots of touchdowns together. Chris and I also hung out with everyone in our gang together including all the girls. At this age (12-15) my friends became everything to me.

Everyday, Chris used to come over my house to pick me up in the morning for school. My mom would be gone and I would still be sleeping. We ended up missing the bus all the time. I tried to get ready quick and Chris was ironing my clothes to help me. Yes we ironed our clothes back then. Often, we just ended up walking to school. Our walk would become an adventure in the pine forest. I think we would at the worse get to school at lunch time or for PE, our favorite class.

Chris' brother Mark

Mark was bigger than my friends and me. He was probably 16. He used to pick on us a little, like a bully. Chris would tell his mom when he did and Mark got in trouble.

Chuck

Chuck was another good friend. Chuck was the same age as Chris and me but he was bigger than everyone. He was a giant but a good kid. Chuck, Chris, and I were like best friends.

Eric

Eric was a kid who lived down the street from me on the circle. We played at times together. Eric was mean sometimes. I remember he would just punch someone in the chest as hard as he could. Once, he threw a rock and hit me in the face.

Rodney

Rodney was a small kid who was a good friend. We hung out all the time. I don't think Rodney lived in Coventry but he hung out with our gang. Rodney and I wrestled together at Lakewood Middle School.

Timmy

Timmy was another good friend of mine. I remember Timmy and I would walk all around Lakewood together. His family was very nice to me. Timmy was a funny kid I enjoyed hanging with.

Ollie

Ollie was another friend who hung out with us all. Ollie was a small kid and he had a fro. He was fun and a good kid.

Shawn and Mark

Shawn and I were good friends. We really enjoyed playing sports together. He was a really good athlete. Shawn left Lakewood and played for our rival Jackson, but I would still go over to his house and hang out with him. I remember we would jam to Sugar Hill Gang's Rapper's Delight when it first came out and we knew many of the words to the rap. Shawn, his brother Mark and I would hang out all day together. They lived with their mom. She was a real nice lady. When I went over their house, she would always make us some soul food, which was good.

Julio

Julio was my best friend when I first moved to Lakewood and he lived in the circle. Julio was older than I and his house was the hang out for all the kids. We had parties there all the time. It was the age of Disco. Saturday Night Fever was a cultural phenomenon. Not only did everybody love the movie, but also the music and the dancing were incredible. For the first time I began to like girls at the age of 12-13 years old. I had a crush on Julio's sister Lisie. She was very cute and one time I kissed her. I felt that was a magical time. We listened to the Saturday Night Fever album all the time.

I was always jealous that Julio dated a girl I had a mad crush on—Lisa. Lisa was my dream girl. She lived on my circle with her sisters Teresa and Michelle. Lisa was beautiful and sweet, but she was Julio's girl.

Popeye and Aaron

Popeye was an older kid who we played sports with. I liked Popeye he was always cool to me.

Popeye's brother Aaron wasn't so cool. Aaron was a bully. Aaron was a big kid who always picked on me. He would punch me, try to take my stuff or instigate people to beat me up. Popeye would yell at him sometimes to leave me alone.

Kelly

I liked Kelly but he would hang out with the bully's. Some of the boys instigated a fight between Kelly and I at the tennis courts one day. I didn't want to fight Kelly and he didn't want to fight either but they pushed him. I was with Diego and his brother Jose. We were all playing tennis. Kelly was a big strong kid. I didn't do to well against him. That was before I started to wrestle. Then Diego almost got into it with them but I said "Let's get out of here."

Eric

Eric was another kid who hung out with everyone but he also hung out with the bully's. One time Eric and another kid named Michael jumped me and they beat me up. I'll talk more about that later.

Diego and Jose

Diego and Jose were best friends to me. They were Puerto Rican like me. They lived just outside of Coventry and I would hang out with them and their family all the time.

Bryant

Bryant was another friend of mine and a very good athlete. He lived just outside of Coventry and we played sports together. I remember walking with Bryant to play Little League baseball after I picked him up at his house. We played Pop Warner football together too. He was the quarterback and I was the receiver. Bryant was also a good basketball player, far better than myself.

The Girls

Bonnie

Bonnie lived across the street. I dated Bonnie and other girls at Coventry. She was a very nice girl and fun to hang out with.

Teresa

Teresa and I dated. She was a very pretty girl. I really liked her and of course her sister Lisa. She didn't want to date me anymore after she heard I was hugging another girl. I messed up. She ended up dating Chris and I was so jealous because I still wanted her.

Liz

Liz hung out with Lisa. She was the first girl I ever kissed. It wasn't pretty but It didn't take me long to figure out what to do.

Susan

Susan next to Chris. She was nice. I remember her being a smart type. We dated too.

This was the most social time of my life. I would not have so many friends for a long time. I really cherish my memories of all those guys.

### Lakewood Middle School

I loved recess, socializing with my friends and flirting with the girls. I had a terrible crush on Maria. Maria was a Puerto Rican girl at my school. She was small and very cute. I didn't really know how to communicate that I liked her other than hitting and acting crazy around her.

I was like most students until eighth grade. I would get up in the morning, eat breakfast, go to the bus stop and take the bus to school. Then I would go to class listen to my teacher and do my school work. The school would prepare us for those 300 question standardize tests. I would study and take them and I received good grades.

My mother never noticed my grades or commented on them. I would score 2 or 3 grades above grade level on most items maybe more or less on others. I was very attentive and participated in class very well. My grades were satisfactory and my classes were generally regular classes. I would go home and everything was normal. I would wait until my mom came home and eat and watch TV, then go to bed.

My brain completely changed around eighth grade, when I hit puberty. No one informed me of the pending changes that I would be going through. My mother could barely get out of bed when she was home from work. It was disappointing that no one bothered to sit down with me and explain puberty. I really just got caught blindsided. Suddenly, I began to grow hair in strange places including my face. I felt a beginning of interest in girls, as they became an important focus for me. I began dating girls like crazy. I started to think I was smarter than adults. My mind awoke and I began plotting all kinds of schemes. It was bad, bad, and bad. I'll talk about that later. I got bigger, stronger, but not too big, I was only around five feet tall and barely over one hundred pounds. I also became much more interested in my peers. My entire life turned upside down. I felt alive and invigorated. Everyday became a new adventure.

### Fighting

Fighting in eighth grade became a very serious problem for me. It seemed like I got in a fight everyday. A typical situation involved me walking down the hall in between periods and bumping into some dude. A lot of times it was probably guys just like me, walking around on a hair trigger. We would bump and I'd say, "What's your problem dude?" They would mouth off to me or look at me funny and I would just clean their clock. I remember the school counselors just didn't know what to do with me. Many teachers didn't care for me.

I didn't always start the fights but I certainly always finished them. One day, in one of my classes, a blonde dude came up to me while I was holding my books and he slapped them out of my hands. That was a mistake. We ended up in the center of class with all the kids in the class in a circle saying, "kick his butt!," or "get him!" I beat him up pretty bad. I remember when he slapped the books out of my hand; it sent me into a rage. Yea, rage was one of the demons along with anger and hatred in my heart. Most kids probably would of got mad and told the teacher. I proceeded to giving him a beating. I'm sure he wasn't ready for my fury. I can also remember three of my teachers watching the whole situation at the door as I beat this kid up until they finally had enough. One teacher was Mrs. Applegate, she was a beautiful blonde woman I had a crush on. The other two teachers were the science teacher, Mr. Stone and the English teacher, Mr. Peters. After the fight, Mr. Stone pulled me outside the class, clenched my shirt, twisted it, and slammed me against the wall almost lifting me off the ground, telling me I'd better cut the baloney out or he was going to kick my butt. He was a big guy and I was quite small in 8th grade, 5'2'' about 105llbs. Tough guy wasn't he? He was trying to intimidate me

from fighting. This was a typical tactic used to deter me from fighting but it didn't work because my problems were much deeper. These fights were everyday business for me. They were part of my vicious cycle.

My mom would come to school to pick me up because I was suspended all the time and it just got worse and worse. My mom would sit there listening to the counselors and I could tell she was furious. "Edward is a good student and very capable but he's having some problems getting along." So what was my mom's solution? She would take out a wooden spoon and just beat me right there in front of the counselors. They didn't say a thing or sometimes she would wait until we got in the car and when no one was looking, then she would brutally assault me. My mom would hit me on the head and in my face as hard as she could, just going absolutely crazy on me. Very often, she would break the wooden spoon on my face or over my head. I would sit there and take it. I was terrified, scared, and intensely angry. And when I got home my mom would take out an arsenal of weapons and beat me further: Ropes, sticks, shoes, pans, switches, belts and other stuff. The next day in school I was a time bomb. The first kid that bumped me was my target and I went psycho on them. That cycle started over and over each day repeating itself.

everyday. No one understood nor could they stop it. I was an out of control freight train headed towards disaster. There was no escape from the physical abuse at home, the feelings of abandonment from my father, and the emotional consequences within me--hatred, anger, and rage. The manifestation of my internal life became violence in school.

### Delinquent behavior

My behavior was growing more and more delinquent. I was cutting school, stealing, fighting, and just looking for trouble. We stole all the time. Here's an example of our typical scheming. One time, I developed a plan of stealing Nintendo handheld football games at the store with two other friends. The plan was for one of us to walk in and go to the back of the store where that person could put the games in their pants. Then one guy would walk in and go to the front and just look around. Following those two would be the third member of the team. He would walk in and start a fight with the kid in the front to distract the sales person while the kid in the back would be stealing. It always worked. We loved those football games and we thought foolishly that we were ingenious and could never be caught.

Another scam was the bubble gum machine looting scam, I thought it was ingenious. For a long time, I studied how bubble gum machines worked. I was always fascinated with machines and how they functioned. Essentially, the handle would revolve 360 degrees around if a coin were in the slot, at the halfway point the coin would be deposited in the machine. That could get me one gum, but that wasn't good enough; I wanted them all. My concept was to insert a chip the size of a nickel, dime or quarter, whatever the machine wanted into the slot. However, what made my plan work was to stick the chip to the backstop of the turning apparatus with gum, which was sticky, malleable, and very flexible. It worked to perfection. I usually left the store with an entire shopping bag of gum. The goal was to clean out almost every machine we encountered. There was plenty of gum to eat and I would sell the rest of the gum at school to the kids. Then we would use the money to buy pizza and candy or just we would steal that too. My stealing behavior got worse and worse and I dragged my friends into it as well. I was developing planning and thinking skills, but my decisions were obviously immoral. I never thought of the consequences of stealing, nor the unfairness to the vender, or the consequences to my friends or myself. I really regret all this today thinking back on it. The stealing took over my mind as I escalated to more serious levels of theft. I was fully out of control. I saw my friends going to adult jails for this and it scared me. I knew they would have killed me in jail and that I would have no future. My friends' parents started telling their kids, that they didn't want them hanging out with me, so I was losing my friends as well. That hurt my feelings.

I was arrested quite often. One time I was arrested for one of my misdeeds and the police officer put me in handcuffs. Remember how I liked how things worked? I spent a lot of time studying locks. Being prepared as usual, I had a bobby pin with me. I picked the lock on the handcuffs and handed them to the officer at the jail and said stupidly, "Here you are officer." Of course, I was a smart butt about it and the cop told me he was going to beat the tar out of me if he ever caught me in an ally (I'm putting it nicely). My mom came down to pick me up as usual. She would have her wooden spoon and beat me there or she would wait until we got into the car of course. My mom must have been desperate to stop my course of direction towards jail, but the beatings just made it worse (beatings, fights, beatings, fights, a vicious circle, over and over). I was spiraling further downward.

### Blue Jacket

The bullying in Lakewood was getting worse and worse. We decided to form a gang to protect ourselves. The problem was bigger kids picking on us and even beating us up. Our gang was called Blue Jacket. The initiation for a member was to steal a blue jacket from the big sporting good store on route 9. Everyone did steal one, and as a consequence, we all walked around with the same blue jackets. It was Chris, Scott, Raymond, Ollie, Timmy, and Rodney and I at first; then we started to grow. It felt empowering to ban together and we had a sense of brotherhood. Of course, stealing jackets was wrong, but we were juvenile delinquents in some ways and didn't get it.

One day, the boys and I from Blue Jacket were hanging out at the movies. We used to walk to the movies from Coventry on the weekends up route 9. I remember stopping at Carvel for a soft vanilla ice cream with chocolate sprinkles all the time. There was also a pinball joint along the way for a few games. Remember this was in the 70's. Electronic games were just starting and we went to an arcade for that. Anyway, we watched our movie and it was all good but the bullies were there and they came after us. It was Popeye, Aaron, Eric, Michael and some other guys. They were way older and bigger than us. These guys started grabbing people and throwing them down and beating them up. We broke out and escaped and made a run for it. They chased us all the way to Coventry, so it was a long chase. We got separated from many of our group and they did to. They finally caught me on the fence to Coventry. It was Eric and Michael. They threw me down and started punching me as hard as they could. My friends were on the other side, Chris and Ollie. We were way smaller than these guys but they were pounding me. At first, it was kind of funny but they didn't stop beating me so this went on for too long. I felt just beat down. I kept telling them to stop but they didn't. My friends were upset too. They finally let me go and I was really angry. I was so close to my house. I could see it from the spot the beat me up. I felt helpless during the gang beating. It was the kind of experience you have nightmares the rest of your life over. I ran home and got a knife and went looking for them. Someone was going to get stabbed. Luckily, I couldn't find them.

After that I was looking for weapons to use against the bullies. I got ahold of a BB gun and started using that to shoot members of their gang. Blue Jacket went into effect as well. When we found members of the bully gang, we attacked them, threw them down to the ground and beat them. Then we would throw them in the bushes or something. Later, I was able to obtain a 45 automatic hand gun. I thought it was fake but it looked real. With the gun, I went directly to the enemy and started pointing the gun at them and ranting, "I'm gonna kill you." I was also spreading rumors that I was bringing up my cousins from The Bronx to kick these punks butts. As I was walking down the street with my friends, suddenly, three cop cars pulled in front of me. I was confused. They opened their doors and pulled their guns and stood behind the door of their cars. I was standing in the middle of the street with my 45 in my hand at my side. They said, "Police officers, put the gun on the floor!" I could sense they were going to kill me. I was in shock this was happening to me but I had a sense that if I wasn't careful they would kill me. I slowly placed the gun on the floor, then they had me place my hands on my head, then turn around and walk away then get on my knees. The police arrested me and put me in hand cuffs. I tried to tell them it was a fake gun, so the officer pulled out the magazine with the bullets—it was a real gun. I look back now thankful I didn't kill anyone, including my friends or myself. My mom had to pick me up at the station and I won't tell you what she did to me. You can guess by now.

The situation was out of hand with bullying and I was out of control trying to protect myself. It got to the point where psychologically I had to arm myself with a firearm for protection. Where were the adults? They just didn't get it. The adults didn't take control to stop this and it was just completely out of hand. A child shouldn't have to deal with that alone or have to get to that point. My mom just intensified the beatings. That was her response. Her way to cope.

Chapter 5

### Wrestling circle in gym

I was always a wrestling freak. I would wrestle anyone at anytime and I would often wrestle big kids and beat them. I remember even wrestling my mom when I was a little boy and my cousins Donny, Frankie, and Christina. I never really

thought of it any further. One day, in gym class, Mr. Randolph, the PE teacher who was a big muscular black man, had us form a circle on the wrestling mat he had rolled out. It was wrestling day. Everyone respected Mr. Randolph because he was big and strong. He also carried a hitting stick that was padded. He would bop kids on the head or on the butt. No one wanted that so the kids did what he said, but he was actually a nice guy too. Anyway, that day we sat in a circle according to our weight, so I was one of the first kids at 100 lbs and the circle went all the way around to over 200lbs. We had a full gym class of about 25-30 kids. Mr. Randolph had the first two kids wrestle then the winner would wrestle the next kid in the circle. Most of the kids were bigger than me and some kids were already six feet

tall and two hundred pounds. Not me. This was a new experience. I had never wrestled on the mat like this. The object of the game was to take down your opponent. When my turn came I stepped on the mat and wrestled. I took down my first opponent. Then I took down the next one, and the next one, and then next one, until I almost completed the circle of our class. One of the big kids at the end of the line finally got me down. I was getting tired. I shocked the PE teacher and my classmates. I beat almost everyone in the gym. This was a vision of my future as a wrestler even though at the moment I had no awareness of how significant this event was. God had chosen wrestling for me.

### Escape to the Nurses office

I was sitting in class one day goofing off as usual not wanting to work, when an announcement came on the loud speaker out of the blue, "all wrestlers report to the nurses office for a physical." Wanting to do anything to get out of this class, I said to my teacher "I'm a wrestler, got to go to the nurses office." Of course, I had no intention of being a wrestler, never thought of it, or cared. It was just a good excuse to get out of class, but I'm sure the teacher didn't mind getting rid of me either. So I went down to the nurses' office and the nurse was giving physicals and I got one. The wrestling coach Mr. Johnson was there too. He was writing down information and weighing guys. Some of my buddies were there, like Rodney. The coach said, "We start practice tomorrow." "Show up tomorrow after school at 3PM. I was like "yea I'll be there dude." I had no intentions on showing up for any practice of anything. I thought everything was a joke. Ha, Ha suckers I got out of class!

### First day of practice

The next day came and I was hanging out after school socializing with friends while the wrestlers were practicing. I heard there were a lot of girls hanging out in the wrestling room, which was our school cafeteria. So I went over to the cafeteria to see what girls were around. There were lots of girls and I was happy. Maria, the girl I had a crush on was hanging around the wrestlers. I got the feeling she liked me too. Somehow the coach saw me hanging out with the girls and got me on the mat. I guess I had no problem going out on the mat because I had a chip on my shoulder. I didn't back down from any fights. He told me to wrestle one of the boys. I was like "sure" in an overconfident manner. I went out to the mat and started wrestling. All I can remember is feeling so tired. I was exhausted from practicing and going all out trying to beat an opponent. It just wore me down. I can remember thinking maybe this is too tough for me but when I thought about it, I liked the challenge. Guess what? I came back for practice again and again. The challenge became rewarding to me. I was becoming a wrestler. I didn't know what to expect or where this was taking me.

### Wrestling season

I was in trouble on a daily basis for fighting, being late or absent, not following directions, and being a clown. The detention room became my classroom, but after school I went to wrestling practice. Soon the first match came and I wrestled against my first opponent. I wasn't nervous at all. It was competition to me. I went out there and pinned him. Everyone was excited and cheering for me--My friends, the coach, parents, and the girls. It felt so good. I was intoxicated with excitement and I just loved wrestling.

Many times coach would come into the detention room and get me out to go wrestle. "I'm here for Eddie," he said. I felt like he was busting me out of jail. For the first time in middle school people were congratulating me for beating someone up. I started to learn that on the mat I could be aggressive and be a hero at the same time, but if I got into a fight in the hall I would be in trouble. My behavior started to change. I started channeling my aggression on the mat in a positive way and my fighting in the hallway began to diminish. The season went by and I was undefeated!

### Coach's Prophesy

One afternoon while I was weighing in, my coach and I were the only people left in the locker-room. Coach Johnson started asking me some questions. "Have you ever wrestled on a team before?" I said, "no." "Have you ever boxed before? "No," I said. "I've played football and baseball." He said, "Kid, you're a natural." "One day you're going to be a champion." I really didn't think anything of what he said. I just took it as a compliment. I went to the county championships and I lost for the first time. My season was over.

Sports became very important to me. I loved to play football, baseball, tennis, soccer, and now wrestling. I wanted to wrestle in high school and become a state champion. Little did I know what was ahead for me.

### Adolescence

There is no reason children should be having sex until they're adults. Then the individual can make good informed choices. The best place for a sexual relationship is in the context of a marriage. Today, people generally don't want to make a commitment to each other and don't want to even make that commitment when they live together and have kids. That's insane! Have people have lost their minds? There are serious risks involved in sex: Pregnancy, sexually transmitted diseases (STD's): HIV-AIDS (no cure), and herpes (no cure) to name a few risks. There are many STD's. Do you know about these? It doesn't make you a man to have sex when you're a teenager. My parent's advice on sex was simple and incredibly incomplete—Don't get her pregnant. What? This is a permissive attitude and ignorant. My parents set me up to fail and then people like that just blame you when trouble happens. I'm telling you, don't have sex until you are an adult. At that point, you will know that you can handle those decisions appropriately.

### Music

Music was one of the most important aspects of my life. I witnessed the birth of Disco, Funk, Rap, Alternative Rock, Heavy Metal, and the peak of Classic Rock. It was incredible. I set up my stereo and two large speakers (speakers were big in the 70's) inside my closet. I had a good size walk-in closet when we lived in Lakewood, New Jersey. My room walls were white and I had red pile carpeting with two large dormer windows that provided lots of light and air into my room. I thought my room was cool. I had three posters in my room. The first was Farah Fawcett, whom I was in love with. Then my baseball hero, Reggie Jackson, Yankees baby! The third poster was my boy's, the three stooges! I was set. I had all colonial furniture in my room: A colonial desk, dresser, and bed. We were influenced by Lakewood and New Jersey because it had a very Colonial influence.

Anyway, now that you can see my room, imagine me lying in the closet on the floor with my door closed jamming to Earth, Wind and Fire and the birth of hip hop. I was lost in the world of music everyday and it felt good.

I remember hanging out with my buddies Shauwn and his brother Mark and we were freaked out when Sugar Hill Gang came out with "Rapper's delight" and Kurtis Blow's "the Breaks", Rick James with "Super Freak", Blondie rapping in "Rapture" and Grand Master Flash with "Wheels of Steel." We would play football all day and just roam all over Lakewood. It was small town country living. I loved it. And I loved my friends. I remember we would go to house parties or parties at the clubhouse. Our community was very diverse with whites, blacks, Puerto Ricans, and others. It was really nice. Coventry square kids mainly hung out with each other. It was a pine forest community that looked like an old English town. We would walk out of the community to the candy store, which was in a strip mall. We would go to the store all the time for drinks, candy, pizza, and other stuff. The larger department stores were in that area too. They were located on one of the main roads out of Lakewood.

### Home Life

The climax of the beatings

My mom would beat me on a daily basis. I was always terrified when my mom came home. A beating was coming and I felt no control or understanding of why. I would typically try to hide all my mom's weapons: wooden spoons, belts, ropes, switches, sticks, broom's, pans, high heel shoes, or whatever she would grab to beat me. One day everything changed.

My mom arrived home like she would normally do and was mad at me for something that I don't remember now. The beatings were sparked by anything at this point and they had become just a ritual event. So my mom began beating me and she was hitting me with a wooden spoon in the face and I was standing there taking it, then I suddenly exploded in self-defense and I punched her right in the face. We were both in shock. We both stopped there and looked at each other. Her nose was bleeding. I became overcome with fear and ran upstairs and hid in the bathroom. She decided to get a new weapon, a hammer. My mom was screaming she was going to kill me and she began tearing the door apart hitting it as hard as she could with the hammer. She put holes in the door and busted the lock off. I was in terror thinking she was finally going to kill me. I tried hiding underneath the toilet in that tiny space. I was crying and telling my mom to stop when she finally broke down the door and then she raised the hammer to strike me. She looked like a crazed woman, ready to kill me, then she suddenly stopped and turned away, and the terror was over.

The beatings with the weapons: wooden sticks, switches, shoes, frying pans, brooms, ropes, and sticks was over. She never used those weapons again. However, our conflict wasn't over. Later it would reach new levels of aggression. Finally, in a moment of defiance and self-protection, I struck back. I felt my mom had no right to get in my space and hurt me. Now she had to worry about a growing boy becoming a teenager that could hurt her. I don't know what my mom thought. She never discussed the beatings and till this day denies any physical abuse occurring. I lived in fear at home as a boy and as a teenager; I wasn't afraid of my mom, I just hated her. I would always try to do things to make my mom happy, like clean the house up or cook. It didn't work because my mom was never happy. She was unloving, depressed, and violent. I always wanted my mother's love but there just wasn't anything in her heart to give. This realty caused sadness in my heart.

### Left back twice

The first time I got left back in eighth grade I had a sense that I wanted to get left back. I felt at some level it would give me an advantage in athletics (I was a late bloomer) and I didn't like my class very much. Also, gangs were threatening to kill me if I went to Lakewood, High School. From a maturity point of view, I probably wasn't really ready to go to high school. My grades were always good until this point. I even did well on those 300 question Government CAT multiple-choice tests. I remember always being many grades ahead of myself. For example, I was reading at an 11th grade level in 8th grade. Have you been around 8th graders lately? They are hormonal. Out of control! I was out of control. I just stopped going to school. Instead of going to school, I would have adventures everyday with my friends.

One day me, Rodney and Chris walked to school. The trip was probably around 2 miles. It may have taken us two hours to get there. We had to walk through the forest and the swamp. Yes there are swamps in New Jersey. We weren't exactly in a hurry.

Usually I would get to school in time for recess (socializing), then I would leave school at lunch to go to the pizza store, then I would come back for PE (physical education). That was my day. Those are the aspects of school I enjoyed. Yes I was out of control. Unfortunately, after my second year in eighth grade I was late 100 times and absent 100 days. Guess what? I got left back again! This time I was scared. I didn't want to get left back again. I remember walking around the school with the counselor, Mrs. Wilkinson, a very nice black woman. She was trying to plea to the teachers to let me go, but of course Mr. Stone said no. I was in trouble. It took a while and some negotiating, but we finally worked out a deal. The deal was if I left the state they would let me go to high school. My mom was talking about moving to Arizona. Well Arizona here I come I thought. This was it. The only other alternative for me was to drop out of school. So we left Lakewood, New Jersey.

Chapter 6

### Phoenix, Arizona

My mom came to me one day and told me we would be moving. She said we were moving to Phoenix, Arizona. Prior to moving here, we had visited Phoenix a year or two earlier to see my Uncle Lou, Aunt Margie, and my cousin, David. They were from The Bronx like us and had moved out to Phoenix before we did. I remember Phoenix back in 1978. We got there in the summer and it was hot. I distinctively remember not seeing anyone around. It was seriously quiet and desolate. There were no people, not even cars around. This is far different than the Phoenix of today. We were ranked, as the 33rd largest city in America and today it is the 5th.

Anyway my mom said we were moving and that she had a new business. That "new business" was Amway, a pyramid marketing scam. She gave up her townhouse the only property we ever owned and her job with Eastman Kodak, the best situation we were ever to be in and we were headed towards big trouble.

### Poverty

Can you guess Amway didn't work? Phoenix was absolute poverty for us. We first moved into an apartment on 63rd avenue and Bethany. It was ok back then to live in apartments they weren't as bad as today, but we had no furniture. I had to sleep on the floor. My mom had a series of low wage jobs like selling insurance door to door where she made a minimum wage of $3.35/hr.

We finally moved over to 75th avenue and Glendale my sophomore year into a section 8 apartment. It was dark with two bedrooms and a bathroom with a strange shaped backyard that really equated to no backyard. The apartment was a non-descript looking duplex. It was very dull in it's appearance, nothing stood out about it except the word "down." That's how it felt. There was no light in the apartment and we had no furniture, except a director's chair. I don't remember how or why we had it but it was something to sit on instead of the floor. The apartment was a depressing place to live. I just slept on the floor with a pillow and blanket. I felt ashamed to live there and if someone came over they had a sense that we were very poor. It wasn't a dangerous place and that was good. The apartment was on Glendale Avenue, which was like a highway, and we lived next to Circle K and the gas pump. I remember there being real serious accidents all the time.

I would walk across the cornfield and my school, Independence High School was right there. Everything was rural with farms everywhere back then. We were in the middle of nowhere. There were no kids, no one hanging out. I was alone. As boring as it was, there were special things happening too. It was the 80's and life was slower in Phoenix. People were friendlier and I had no responsibilities other than going to school. I was embarrassed that I lived in poverty when most of the kids in my school were middle class or better. That was a real nice area back then. Today it's a depressed area with maybe pockets of new developments. Most of the cornfields are gone and have become either strip malls or housing developments.

My mom and I were struggling. We received food stamps and we often had churches bring us food. I can remember how our refrigerator was empty most of the time. We often had nothing to eat. Our electricity was turned off at times for not paying our bill and I used to think about eating my shoes like the old Laurel and Hardy movies in the great depression. I even thought of eating bugs. It was hard not eating for a day or two and I still had to go to school everyday and compete against middle class kids. It was rough going to school everyday hungry when we were expected to work. Watching my classmates buy all kinds of snacks with ease and flaunt it in my face was even tougher. The kids didn't appreciate their privileges and I thought that was their poverty. In general they had no compassion for me either. Teenagers can be really mean. No one knew what I was going through or really cared.

My mom bought me two pairs of pants and two shirts and said, "here are your clothes for school and that's enough!" I was so embarrassed that I wore virtually the same clothes everyday to school for almost my entire high school career. The way I coped with that situation, was to try to wear my clothes differently so it would look like I wore something different everyday. For example, I would wear my collar up one day, down the next. Or tuck my pink shirt in one day and out the next. It was a source of stress for me, especially with my strong sense of self-consciousness as a teenager. I was poor, hungry, embarrassed, envious, and angry at my situation.

### Independence high school

Independence High School looked like a UFO landed in the middle of the cornfields. It was an impressive modern design from the late modern period, built partially underground. I just thought Independence High School was great when I saw it. I loved it. It was a fairly new school built in 1976-77. I was a freshman in 1981, only four years after the school was built. The school was very modern compared to what I was used to in New York and I had never seen architecture like this. The school was in the middle of nowhere completely surrounded by cornfields. It was just unreal looking. The teachers were nice and it was safe there. The kids seemed cool to me but little did I know that I would never be accepted. Social rejection and my poor home life was just painful.

Chapter 7

###

### Freshman Year– Rebuilding life

There I was, off to a new exciting start in Glendale, Arizona. It was 1981 and I was anxious to meet new kids and play sports.

I remember my first day. I walked across the cornfield to Independence High School. It was a hot day and I remember sitting in shop class and meeting a couple of boys. We talked about rain. They were excited because it started to rain. I was confused why they were so excited about rain. That's the way it is here. Arizonians just get excited about rain because it rarely ever rains here. Back east it rains everyday and people are tired of it and want sunshine. I was ready for change in my life. I was committed to changing myself. No more fights. No more trouble. It was time to grow up.

I started to play football in August. It was a dream playing football for Independence. I loved it. We practiced everyday and I was ready to kick butt. I was always a very good receiver and I started at receiver for the first game of the season; However, I dropped a catch and that was the last time I ever played receiver again. The coaches punished me by putting me on the defensive line in practice, but I did well. I played more like a linebacker than a defensive lineman. Standing upright, I played off the line, and moved around a lot. I was too fast for the offensive linemen and my speed caused havoc in the backfield. The coaches ended up starting me in the game as a defensive lineman. I had a dominating presence. We ended up 9-1 on the season and I won the MVP (Most Valuable Player) award on defense. Not bad for being punished.

I became very actively involved in extracurricular activities: Class senator, ROTC (Reserve Officer Training Corp), wrestling, and tennis. The Navy ROTC program at Independence was a company that was part of a three-school battalion. I really like ROTC and thought I could join the military after school was over. I also wrestled and had a good season losing only one match on the JV team. In the spring I decided to play tennis and made the varsity team in the 5th spot, but I quit the team early because of kids harassing me. They said I was gay, but I played tennis all my life.

I missed my friends in Lakewood badly. I always envisioned Chris and I playing football together and dominating the state, but I was excited being in Arizona and I was already the MVP, even though I thought it was a mistake not playing me on offense. I was a weapon that was unused. They tried to get rid of me and I rose above the challenge to make my team stronger. I ended up becoming good friends with three black kids. Kevin, Jonesy, and Willard. Culturally, I was more connected with these guys then the white and Mexican kids. The White kids listen to country music and didn't like hip-hop or know what it was. I completely didn't identify with the Mexican Chollo kids because of culture, but some Mexican kids were more assimilated in the mainstream and some were more in the Chollo gangster culture. I hung out with the black kids. As it was, they were the only black kids in the school and they were similar economically to me—poor, except Willard who was middle class. Jonesy and Kevin ended up moving, so I was very disappointed when they left and socially that led to a bad situation. Suddenly I had no friends. Now I had to culturally adjust and that was something I didn't want to do.

###

### Sophomore Year – Loneliness

Everyone in the school knew me. Our school was small and I was an athlete. The in-group was composed of athletes, cheerleaders, and other kids. They didn't accept me and we didn't connect. I was never invited to parties or anything. I had no way to get around except walking and they had cars because they were from wealthier families. I'd walk from our apartment across the cornfield to the school and I'd walk miles to get to a park or a store.

My sophomore year was a painful time. I remember going to lunch and everyone was sitting with his or her friends, but I had nowhere to sit. I ended up sitting with other social rejects or by myself. Sometimes I would just go to the library. (That's how I found a book on Andres Segovia). I was fortunate to come across his autobiography. Andres Segovia was the greatest classical guitarist in history.) To add to my social misery, I was involved in ROTC, which everyone considered the geek squad. I wore my uniform with honor and I didn't care what they thought. I liked everyone; even the geeks and I accepted them as my friends. I just made it work. I remember I hung out with Wally, kind of a nerdy kid, Rene, one of the only black girls who had trouble with fighting, and dudes from ROTC, especially Marvin, who was a good country boy type of kid. Then there was Tess, a girl who lived in my cousin's neighborhood, she became like my best friend. We were different and we accepted that about ourselves. Never would I have imagined my friends in high school being these people. I can remember thinking how I was always popular wherever I was and now I was an outcast. I just thought, "Screw them." Putting together a group and going my own way was hard against the in-group but it was real. Everyone in my group was unique in their own way and we didn't have to be something we weren't. I talked with people from the in-group, so I was friendly with them. Kids like Mark, Kevin, Troy, Tammy, Mario, they knew me but just didn't accept me in the group. In one way, I didn't care because I didn't connect to them culturally and didn't like them. In another way, I wanted to belong and I did like people on an individual basis.

When I went home after school no one was home. At times it was very lonely. There was nothing to do. There were no kids in this neighborhood to hangout with and it just was dead. Occasionally, I would get together with kids I met at the park. I remember a kid named Munford, he was Rene's brother and he went to Glendale High School. We would talk a lot. He was like me, we both had to walk and bike everywhere across Glendale. Glendale High School was only a mile or two away. We would talk about sports and stuff and Richard was a good friend. It was nothing like Lakewood socially. People weren't very sociable in Arizona. Also, not very many people lived in Glendale at that time.

I wrestled on the varsity team this year. I had a decent year but lost more matches than in my entire wrestling career. Despite the losses, I made it to the division championship against the greatest wrestler in Arizona history—Sammy. I was excited to be in the division championship and I wanted to defeat Sammy. Of course, expectations weren't high for me. I think Sammy was undefeated in all four years of his wrestling career or maybe he lost one match. He was a three time state champion going for a fourth title and he had his picture on the Wheaties box as an all American wrestler. I wasn't afraid of him; actually I admired him and tried to learn from him although I was a totally different style of wrestler. I wrestled well against Sammy. He took me down then I reversed him. Then they decided to not wrestle me just to take me down. They took away my strength, so I tried to take away his strength. I tried to make it into a Greco-Roman match (upper body throwing). I made it tough for him but he got me down a couple of times and won the match. After the match Sammy came up to me and told me that was the toughest match he had all year. That was a complement coming from Sammy. I talked to Sammy over the years and his coaches. They told me they thought I was the best wrestler at Independence. Their team, Peoria high school was a perennial powerhouse team and we weren't. We didn't like Peoria, they were rivals, but I respected them and wanted to beat them.

I went to the state championships for the first time. I lost two close matches to seniors who took metals. Sammy won the state championship and I lost to the second place winner and the third place winner. I was disappointed. I was so close to placing in my sophomore year but I was on the highest stage of high school wrestling now and my time hadn't come.

### The Waterbed Blessing

One day after not eating for a day, I told my mom I wanted to look at waterbeds, which were popular back in the 80's. She said, "I don't want to go to the store." We only had little bit of gas in our car, a Honda civic. Somehow I convinced her to go check it out. So we went over and I laid in the waterbed and imagined having a bed. It took my mind off of my hunger, but I knew the reality was that I was starving and sleeping on the floor. After a while, we left the store and on the way to the car, I looked down and found a $20 bill. I jumped for joy and said, "Praise the Lord!" I never gave up my faith that the Lord would take care of us. My mom was excited too. We went to the grocery store and bought eggs, milk and a couple of potatoes and we had food for a couple of days until my mom got paid and the pain of hunger was over for awhile. I felt the Lord had blessed us.

### Summer

The summer came. I ended up going back to New York for the summer. I took a bus by myself across the United States. I wanted to see my dad. My dad never called me and he may have sent one letter to me in two years. He didn't know the struggles we were going through and he really didn't care. I remember how difficult the bus ride was. It was very uncomfortable three-day ride. Actually, during high school I made the trip across the United States on my own four times! Sleeping on the bus was brutal. We ate greasy bad food every day in hamburger places, I could never get comfortable in the seats, and no one could take a shower. I hung out with the people on the bus and that helped pass the time. I remember traveling through many states in the union. We went to St. Louis, Missouri, Memphis, Tennessee, Chicago, Illinois and many other places. I got to know America, on my own as a teenager about 15-16 years old. Finally, I made it to New York and I called my dad at the Port of Authority in the city. I was a little scared. The Port of Authority is not a place for kids. I forgot how to get around and New York was an intimidating place. My dad didn't show up to pick me up. I called him and he just said to take the train to The Bronx. I was disappointed and lost, but I found my way. I was feeling culture shock. I showed up at my dad's apartment a mess from traveling on the bus for three days without a shower. Rene, my stepbrother answered the door. Rene had grown. I remember Rene when I was 9 years old. We were little boys now we were 16 and in the middle of the hip hop movement. Rene had grown to about 6' 4" and I had grown to be about 5'10". Rene was thin and tall with big sharp side burns. He greeted me by trying to intimidate me. "What's up punk?" "I'm gonna mess you up boy!" His greeting surprised me. I was happy to see Rene but he was trying to "punk me." I just thought what the hell happened to you. I was a little intimidated at first then I thought this is Rene; I'll kick his butt. My dad said hello to me and asked me how I was doing. "You look bad," he said. I may have said "Hi" to my dad. (I felt like saying yea I've been on the bus three days to see you!) I was happy to see him but also unclear how to interact with him. I walked with him down the hall of the apartment to his bedroom and he said, "Yea it's good to see ya kid." Then he went into his room and closed his door. I didn't know who he was and deep inside I was angry. I was always conflicted about my dad. I loved him but I was so disappointed in him. I traveled across the United States to see him, he didn't show up at the bus station to greet me and now he just went into his room and closed the door in my face. That was the extent of the relationship I had with my dad outside of being seven years old.

I came to see my dad but it was Rene I ended up hanging out with. My dad wasn't very involved in my life at any level. I always wanted my dad to say let's go do something together but he never did. It made me feel unwanted. I didn't feel very good about myself. My dad made me feel worthless.

Chapter 8

### Junior Year – achievements/ screw ups

1984 was probably one of the most significant years of my life. I got back to school late in the summer from New York and missed the early part of football training. The coaches were not happy with me. I remember getting back with my box (radio) playing Beat Street by Grand Master Flash, over looking practice. I had to ask the team to be on the team again. They let me back on. They made me a linebacker and a running back. My attitude was not good. That was also why people didn't like me. Sometimes I just had a chip on my shoulder. That's how I coped with life. I didn't care about anything. No emotions, just hardness. The coaches didn't like my attitudes so they never let me play, despite being a former MVP. I went from game to game watching from the sidelines all year. We had an ok year but I felt I was unstoppable as a player, so not playing game after game was torture. I felt I could have made a difference to help my team. After every game the guys on the team would go and hang out at parties. I would just walk home feeling beat down. After sitting on the bench and feeling like I had no friends, I was ready to quit the team towards the end of the year. I just felt rejected. It was hard. I loved football since back in Lakewood when Chris, Chuck, the gang and I would all play. I didn't want to go down this way. My behavior had changed. I was all about sports and school. School was a positive refuge from my depressing home. I was doing well but still struggling at home and socially with my peers at Independence. My home life and peers were dragging me down.

Finally, at the end of the year I got a brake. Our starting linebacker got hurt so they put me in and at linebacker and running back. It was the best and last game of season and of my life. The game was against a more powerful school, where I went to ROTC, and our enemy—Glendale High School. Commander Lake even came to the game. It was big time. People were ready to clear the seats against Glendale. I loved it. I came out and dominated them. I had four sacks and 10 solo tackles. I did well running the ball too. I remember early in the game penetrating the offensive line and grabbing the quarterback and driving him to the ground. They were saying who the heck is number 20? They didn't see me on tapes because I never played and I was a big problem for them. I just thought why didn't they play me the whole year? I had a big game but we lost 6-0, maybe because we weren't a real team. Everything was political, with clicks and Prima Donnas. They made the adjustment late in the game to win. They didn't run near me. They were supposed to kill us but we did great and I put it to them if it's ok to say. I felt I let my team down by not scoring on offense. I made one bad decision, but coaches didn't trust me so they didn't give me the chance to show what I could do. I had a dominating presence in the game. It was like old times again. After the game I quit. I had the best football game of my life and I never played football again.

Chapter 9

### The 1984 Arizona State Wrestling Championships

I started the wrestling year with the same goal I had every year --become a state champion. I had a rough start to the wrestling season. I went to the first tournament of the year with a back injury and lost 3 matches. After that tournament, I didn't lose a match the rest of the season until the Peoria Invitational, which was the largest tournament in Arizona. I lost at the last second of a close match to the eventual winner and ended up taking 3rd, which was the highest I ever placed at Peoria.

The tide began to change. We wrestled against Peoria in a dual match and we kicked their butts. Our team was dominating now. We had arrived. Our team had finally become very tough. I don't think we lost any duals that year. We had a great team. My cousin "Lugie" was at 98. David was the lightest guy on the team and probably the strongest. We had Mark (Weasel) at 119, Mark was cool, we hung a few times he was a fun kid. I was at 126! They called me "slime dog." Then there was "Scrotum", Mike, at 132, he was a state champion, and we also had "Red Dog", Robert at 145. Red Dog was another one of the cool guys I liked a lot on the team. Red dog was very popular at Independence not like me. We had "Big Eddie" at 191 and "Bubba" as the heavy weight. This was the core of our team. I wrestled against all these guys except the heavy weights everyday for years.

"Sabe", our coach knew something was wrong with me. He convinced me to stay on the team in the summer. I know he told the guy's to start hanging out with me and they did. I got to know the guys better and that started changing things for me socially. The guys on the wrestling team were cool.

We continued on the season winning, finally reaching the divisional championships. This time I dominated the divisionals, winning the divisional championship against a Peoria wrestler. Our team didn't win the divisional championships but we took second (Peoria managed to win), but next we were headed to the state championships.

Weight was always a problem. We all struggled to make weight. I had to get down to 126 from 140+ lbs and I wasn't fat. We struggled to have food at home, so I was always underweight and size anyway.

This was what we were waiting for all year. We were at the state championships. I was seeded number two. Some kid named Lucas, from Globe was seeded at number 1. I didn't know him and I never wrestled against Lucas before, but apparently he was good. I heard that he finished 2nd three years in a row and this was his year.

I wrestled many tough matches throughout the tournament winning in the last minute with a throw or big move. I marched forward against many good wrestlers all the way to the state championship against the number one seed, Lucas. Lucas was an Apache Indian who I noticed wrestled with a rock in his mouth. I didn't know why he did that. Our team was doing well too. Unfortunately, my cousin David quit the team before the championships, so we lost him. David was a dominant wrestler. Mark, Red Dog, Bubba, and I were in championship matches. Independence High School had never before done this well in wrestling. This was a special team. We lined up in the spotlight as they announced the championship match ups. It was great. I had my hood on and it was "clobberin' time."

This was it, the state championship and I was in it! This is what I had dreamed about since I lived back in Lakewood, New Jersey. I was finally there.

### The moment of Truth

Mark had won the championship at 119 and he was jumping all over the place in excitement. I didn't have a chance to get into it because I was the next championship match. I was pumped up and ready to take it to him. I got in there and the ref blew the whistle, we started. Within five seconds he threw me in a headlock onto my back and had me pinned. I was stunned and frightened. I went crazy to get out and I managed to escape out of bounds. It took a little out of me. I got up and looked at the score table.

Within a few seconds he was winning 5-0. That's tough to come back from in wrestling. I was angry. I thought, "I'm going to hurt this sucker." We got back on the floor standing up and I grabbed him in a bear hug and threw him to his back pinning him. He escaped out of bounds. We got up and I looked at the score table again, the score was 5-5. That's how the whole match went. He took me down, and then I took him down. This went on and on until we finished regulation time tied in a high scoring match 11-11, which is unusual for a wrestling match to score that many points, especially in a state championship match. I was exhausted. We went into overtime and I knew I had to take him down first. We started the overtime and I got him down. The whole time everyone in the stands was cheering for Lucas. The crowd was against me. I could sense it.

We continued to battle and at the end of the match in the third period of overtime with only seven seconds left, he threw me out of bounds very hard on my face. He was ahead in the match and I was sprawled out with my arms above my head and my legs open wide, laying flat on my stomach. My right cheek was on the mat as my consciousness began to blur and I was beaten. Exhaustion and fatigue had set in my body and mind. I looked over to my opponent's side. He was jumping around like a mad man waiting to finish me off. His coaches said, "that kid is done." The people in the stands were cheering for him, as he was jumping up and down, anticipating victory. My coach and Red Dog were pleading and yelling, "Get up!" "Get up!" It all came to be. I felt like a homeless man lying in the gutter, helpless and worthless. I was dying deep inside. In that moment, this is what ran through my mind. I said to myself, "second place is good, I'm only a junior, my opponent's a senior." Suddenly, my entire life flashed before my eyes. The worthlessness I felt from the abandonment by my father, the fear and pain of the physical abuse of being beaten everyday and the sense of feeling inferior from the emotional abuse, my failures in school, getting left back twice, being socially rejected by the kids at Independence, enduring the pain of wrestling, the weight cutting and starvation, all the stairs I climbed, the injuries, all the years of hard work in wrestling trying to become a champion. I thought of my poverty, the lack of social support, the absence of love and hope. I felt the overwhelming emotional pain of the world destroying me. Lying there, I was done physically, emotionally, and now spiritually. It was then that I reached out to God. My arm slowly rising in the air, I quietly and softly in desperation said, "Help me father..." In that very second God transformed me. I slowly got up until I was standing completely tall, breathing rapidly, but under control. I was completely focused with no pain. Facing my opponent, standing across the mat, I stared deep into his eyes with determination and no fear while he was still jumping around with a rock in his mouth. I said to myself, "I'm taking the gold!"

With only seven seconds remaining in the match, they asked me up or down. I was two reversals short of the Arizona State record for the most reversals in Arizona history--I chose down! I got into the down position, he put his hand on my elbow then my stomach. There was a pause, and then the ref blew the whistle. This was the pivotal moment in my life. God enabled me to overcome the enemy, my parents, my opponent, the gangs, classmates, the hopelessness I felt-- everything. The coaches prophesy at Lakewood Middle School came true.

In seven seconds I went on to become the 1984 Arizona State Champion at 126lbs. God did not let me down and my life was never the same after that moment. I was unchained from the spiritual death I was going through and God made me a champion in the course of the battle against my opponent and the world. I was a champion!

Coach came over to me and said "Eddie no one may like you at Independence, but you're a champion now and no one can take that away from you."

All my life I had heard, "you're nothing," "you'll die before your 18," "you will never amount to anything," "your worthless," "this kid will end up in jail or dead."

It was over. I finally had reached my goal. In the moment of truth, it was my faith that gave me all the power to not only become a champion but also to overcome all my struggles in the world. Wrestling was my way to victory.

Mark won the state championship, I won, Red Dog took the state championship after me, and so did Bubba. Big Eddie and Scrotum took third. As a team, we took 2nd at the state championships, beating Peoria! they took 3rd. We were on top of the world and went on screaming and jumping around in joy into the night. It was a day I'll never forget.

### Mother's mental health

My mother's mental health was hitting an all time low. Coinciding with her deteriorating emotional health were two low paying, high stress jobs, poverty, and a lack of social support. My mom worked day and night, but she only made about $3.35/hr in Phoenix, Arizona in the 80's. This was a low point in our life. This was the Reagan era.

When my mom got home she went right to bed. She spent most of her time there. My mom was very depressed and she had no friends and no one to turn to for support. Sometimes we got into arguments and my mom became violent towards me. She would scratch me all across my chest and face. Sometimes she would stab me with a fork and I would go to school with scratches on my face and I would just make excuses like, "a cat scratched me." I always wanted to love my mother, but there was no way to love her. She was a distant, cold, and heartless. On the other hand, I hated my mother with a passion for all the hurtful things she had done to me physically and emotionally. My mom always put me down. Someone would say, "wow your son is a good wrestler", and she would say "but he's not a good kid." When I was a little kid, someone on the bus would say, "What a nice boy." She would say, "No he's not." She could never say something nice about me. She would at times get into arguments with people on the street because they couldn't believe the way she talked about me. People would walk away from her disturbed. She always treated me like I was inferior. My mom was never proud of me and always disliked me.

That year, during an intensely hostile argument my mom just passed out. I picked her up and put her in her bed. I cared about my mom but she was lost. No one in school knew anything that was going on at home and no one cared. I grew to love school especially because it was an escape for me. Independence High School was a positive environment for me in some ways, although socially it was not. I had some friends but people there were distant from me. I knew my time with my mom was coming to an end. I wanted to end our relationship but I wasn't totally ready for it. I wasn't ready to be on my own that early on and I felt for some strange reason my mom needed someone to protect her, so I felt guilt about leaving.

My mom never kept my dad accountable for financial support. What if my dad would of supported us financially? He didn't. My dad didn't even remember my birthday or ever call me. He never gave us any money or emotional support. Can you imagine the difference that would of made in my life? I would be a different person. I would have been more whole, happier, and satisfied. I would have had food, clothes, and a bed to sleep in. Instead, I was fearful, angry, and bitter. This was the test I was given.

In ROTC I finally got my opportunity to become an officer. Commander Lake, our teacher and leader, appointed me to the position. I tried to be a fair leader, not like other kids that went on a power trip. Although, in our battalion we had some guys that we're very good leaders. I went to boot camp in San Diego and learned to handle weapons, march, and engage in some hand to hand combat. I really thought I wanted to join the military when I graduated. The first day of bootcamp I had guard detail so I didn't sleep for 24 hours and I had to clean the bathroom with a tooth brush. Our DI (drill instructor) wasn't playing around. Guys that were goofing around got hurt. I made some good friends in boot camp and my ROTC friends were good friends to. We were all patriotic and enjoyed ROTC. I really enjoyed being the platoon commander. Basically I became the leader of ROTC at Independence High School. One of the metals I was most proud of was winning the best athlete of the Battalion metal. It was an honor. I started to get the impression that I might be appointed the commander of the entire battalion. Wow! That was a dream. No one from Independence reached that level of rank, but Commander Lake decided to move and I knew that would never happen. I reached the highest level in ROTC I would reach and learned a lot and had a great time, but I would never be involved in this program or the military again.

I was in the guitar program all three years at Independence. My first year, I was in the basic guitar class. While everyone was in book 1, I was fast forwarding to book 4. I studied classical guitar, but it didn't really hit me until one day someone gave me a tape of Andres Segovia. I instantly fell in love with classical guitar and Segovia's playing. I told you I found his autobiography in the library. I read it voraciously. Then I began going to Glendale Library to get recordings of Segovia. That led to me getting ahold of the sheet music. I started to develop a nice repoirtoire of music—Tarrega, Bach, Villa Lobos, and much more. I didn't have a guitar, because I had to sell it for food. So the only time I got to play was at school for an hour. Basically, I listen to Segovia's beautiful recordings and played in my mind. I went to the guitar state competition, borrowed a guitar from the school, and despite not owning a guitar, I took the gold metal. My performance was playing Guardame Las Vacas by Narvaez. After the competition, the judge who was the professor of guitar at Arizona State University offered me a scholarship to play guitar. I didn't really think someone could earn a living playing guitar so unfortunately I didn't take it seriously, but I never stopped loving and playing the guitar. Guitar class was a class I really loved at Independence. Tess and Marvin were in my class. We were always playing around and enjoying our class.

### Career center lady

My problems continued at Independence at an institutional level. I had good grades and I was happy with that. Making the honor roll at times put me in the top part of my class. I always wanted to go back to New York and attend Columbia University. I wanted to graduate from the Ivy League. Why? I always wanted to be the best I could be. I wanted to prove I could do anything. People always had a negative impression of me and maybe I played into some of that but I wasn't a bad kid and no one saw the positive things I did. Socially, many of the kids just wanted to see me negatively, but the kids that knew me, knew that wasn't true.

One day I went to the career center to get information on going to college. I told the career center lady I wanted to go to Columbia University. She didn't know me but she just laughed at that idea. She thought that was a joke. She thought I was a joke. That was a painful moment. I was a top student (top 10%), a top athlete, a state champion wrestler, MVP football player, JROTC naval platoon commander, voted best athlete of JROTC battalion, a class senator, I won a superior rating gold metal in the State Music Festival as a classical guitarist even though I didn't own a guitar and at the same time I had no parental support while I lived in financial poverty. The problem was that I was brown. I never sensed that I got credit there, nor was I ever recognized. All those accomplishments with no support, and I was starving everyday. Anger was boiling in my blood. This experience with the career lady left me feeling unappreciated and put down. There really was no competition. No one I knew had to go through my life and excelled the way I did. My fear now was how would I ever be able to earn a living as an adult with 200 million people with the same racist thoughts in their minds? This was a socially constructed mental wall I would never be able to climb. The effect of this racism was exclusion. I feared there would be no hope for me as an adult to earn a fair and honest living. Institutional racism was a reality. How could anyone bring me up in an organization if some more powerful racist would bring me down? Even if they wanted to help me, they could lose their job. It didn't matter what my IQ was, how good my grades were or what I accomplished. America already had plans for me—jail, washing dishes, fighting in political wars, using me for medical research. It sounds like Nazi Germany not the propaganda America wants us to believe. All opportunity is a social event. It was a set up from the very beginning, yet everyone believed the propaganda of American liberty and opportunity. This means people had to look the other way. They had to deny justice to get their selfish desires or be a slave to their fear of being rejected. America was really a lying, evil and selfish place where only the majority had rights and even within that majority, only the few had everything. America hated me because of my brown skin color and my mom hated me for the same reason. How can I say I am an American with any pride? I couldn't. There has to be something deeper I am that rises above this lack of humanity and decency. What is that? Dr. King and the civil rights movement were marching 20 years or less ago from this time. Yes there was some progress but at heart things are the same. This is a human struggle that left me living and looking at the future in fear.

Chapter 10

### Summer of 84'

I was still flying high after winning the state championship. I longed for the culture back east. The hip-hop movement was happening and I wasn't involved here. There was a blow out with my mom again. This was a bad one. I ended up doing regrettable things, breaking stuff in the house, throwing things all around, and writing a bad word on the wall about my mom. I had my times where I was pushed beyond my capability to cope and that resulted in some type of negative event. My frustration and anger had no constructive place to go. My retaliation was just wrong. I didn't know how to constructively handle the level of pain, anger and frustration within me; and apparently my mom didn't either, and no one cared to make matters worse. After my retaliation, the next day my mom was gone. I came home and all my mom's belonging were missing. She left me. I was very surprised. I responded negatively after our conflict, but I didn't expect her to leave me. I didn't hurt anyone but I acted out negatively. Our situation was out of control. It was like being in an abusive marriage or something. My mom was a psycho case more than a parental leader. I was more the parent than she. My mom began dating a man named Ken. She met Ken when she was trying to sell insurance company to company. She had barely begun dating him when she decided to move in with him. At first, Ken was very nice to me. He even gave me a cheap guitar. But after this incident he had a low regard for me. I was scared I didn't know what to do. I was working at Country Kitchen but I wasn't ready to support myself while I was still in high school. In a way it was a relief that my mom left, now my life could get better and I could become independent. Little did I know things were going to get a lot worse before they got better.

I decided to move back to The Bronx to live with my dad, so I got on the bus again. I arrived in New York in the middle of the hip-hop movement. I remember listening to WBLS Kiss Fm, hearing Princes "when doves cry." As Rene made it clear, I changed and I looked "wac (that's bad in hip hop language)." I got some new clothes, lee jeans in black and burgundy, a name buckle black belt that said "EDDIE", and several Le Tigre shirts. Of course, I got a pair of blue suede puma sneakers with the white stripe and fat white laces. Now, I was now "cool." I started hanging out in Parkchester with Rene and his friends Edwin, and another kid. We hung out in the clubs in New York, went to Rap block parties in the parks of the Bronx, and basement parties in private houses. It was great and I loved it. I felt apart of my culture again. I was a Nuyorican and I was in the familiar again. I began to change however. We started doing drugs and I didn't really know what I was doing. Basically, I was just going along with Rene and his friends. I learned quickly though that Rene's friends weren't cool. We were united by our culture but some of them were just criminals. The drugs became the focal point of our lives. Whatever they gave me I did. In a way I did it to just fit in and in another way to mask all the pain inside of me.

One day, Rene and I went back to Lakewood, New Jersey. I was so excited to go back to Lakewood with the guys I thought were really great friends. I saw Chris, Rodney, Lisa, and other guys. It was great. We hung out catching up all day. We didn't have anywhere to stay, so Eric suggested we stay in an abandon house nearby. All the guys went into the house to stay including Rene, but I went over to Jeff's house to say hello and ended up staying over. I was excited to tell all my friends in Jersey I became a state champion wrestler. I slept over Jeff's and when I woke up in the morning, I went to pick up Rene. All the guys were in front of the abandon house. A police officer came by and asked how old everyone was. All my friends said 17 and I said 18. They arrested me on the spot and brought me to jail. This time they sent me to adult county jail. They charged me with breaking and entry, vandalism, destruction of property, arson and several other charges. My bail was set at $50,000. I was in big trouble in Jersey again and I couldn't believe it. I called my dad and he said there was nothing he could do so I called my mom. Ken answered. I told Ken I was innocent and needed help, but Ken wasn't very sympathetic. He said "your not my family, I'm not doing s*** for you *&%*$#@!" then he hung up on me. I sat in jail for a week. It was a terrible experience. I had to wear a bright orange jump suit and I had no freedom. I lived in a cell with dozens of other inmates. I had a Julius Caesar haircut and I was in good shape so I looked crazy and no one wanted to mess with me. I became friends with the biggest craziest guy in jail who was a Puerto Rican. He would pace the jail all day swearing and ranting and raving, "I'm a Puerto Rican, don't f*** with Puerto Ricans!" He was nuts and no one would mess with him or me. I was devastated that I got arrested and hated having my freedom taken away, especially when I didn't do anything. It was unjust. This seemed like my luck, ending up in jail and innocent. People easily and unjustly could take my freedom away now. I started asking questions to myself like, If I were white would this have happened? What else could happen to me? I felt that I couldn't get a brake in life. The truth is the adults in my life were poor leaders and I was making unguided bad decisions. I'm sure prisons and morgues were filled with kids like me. This was the consequence of our divorce, racist society—tragedy and death. My mom finally said she would help me after a week. I was ready to stay in jail, I felt helpless. The county reduced my bail to $5000 and my mom paid it and I got out on bail. My aunt Margaret came to pick me up and I stayed with her family in Jersey. I got to see my cousins again, which was cool. I saw Mike, Jimbo, Billy boy, Gigi and Jeanie. It was nice to see them after so long. Everyone was grown up. I was thinking of going to high school in New Jersey and finishing there. The county said I couldn't leave the state until my trial was over. I decided I didn't want to go to high school in Jersey so I went back to The Bronx. My dad's wife Ethel ended up kicking me out so I moved in with my grandmother and her husband Pete didn't want me there either. I didn't want to go school in the Bronx. My life had completely come apart. I made it all the way to the end of my biggest goal in life of being a high school graduate and that was just about lost. School had already started for several weeks and I wasn't in one. It didn't look like I was going to graduate from high school. No one wanted me and I had nowhere to go. My mom finally said I could come back to Phoenix and live with them, but I would have to change schools to Arcadia or Camelback High School. That was fine with me because I was done with Independence High School. I said yes I wanted to come back. There was no future in the south Bronx for me. I had no real friends there and my family turned their backs on me. My dad told me that I was better off in Phoenix and that I had nothing but trouble in The Bronx, so I left right away, this time for good.

I had sunk to new levels. With a lack of social and parental support, engaging in the drug culture, sexual immorality, and associating with merciless violent criminals, I was slowly heading to hell on a crazy train that I didn't know how to get off. It was a painful realization that I never wanted anything like this in my life. I didn't know what was happening to me: Bad decisions, hanging out with the wrong people, and being in a very dangerous environment. I finally knew; I had to go back to Arizona. My past life in The Bronx was over, now my future was in Phoenix. There was no longer a place for me in my home The Bronx, NY, or Lakewood, N.J. My home was in Phoenix, AZ.

### Senior year - The uphill battle

When people think of their senior year, they think of breezing through to graduation. My life as a senior was far from that scenario.

I was already a month or two behind in school because of my legal troubles in New Jersey. It was difficult to concentrate because of the withdrawal symptoms from the drugs and all the problems on my mind. The end result was that I failed every class my first semester except music. I had never failed a class in high school. My chances of graduating were in jeopardy. Camelback was a new school and I had to adapt to being in a new school as well. I really liked Camelback. It was the largest school in metro Phoenix. At first I didn't know anyone, but I started hanging out with a black kid named Darnell. We began going to parties all around. I was definitely more interested in partying than school now and I was making bad decisions. Darnell was a good kid and he was always amused with my Bronx accent and interested in the rap music I brought back from New York City. For the most part, I didn't really know anyone at Camelback and it was a big school. I came there walking around with my Cesar haircut, a brown long leather jacket, lee jeans with my big name buckle—"Eddie", and my Adidas with fat laces. The kids must of thought I was crazy in conservative Phoenix, Arizona. I was walking around ready to snap at any moment with any provocation and hurt someone, yet apart of me was trying to get stronger and survive. I failed in The Bronx and everyone there failed me. I finally realized I had to move on with my life. My dad and family there abandoned me again. The drugs left me on the edge and my family problems with my mom and Ken were just about to begin.

### Living with Ken and my mom

I had nowhere to go and my mom let me move back with her and new husband Ken. This was a big mistake but I didn't see any other options at the time other than living on the street. One of the first conditions given to me in order to live there was that I had to give up sports. Why? I had always played football and for the first time I wasn't allowed to play. It was heart breaking. I never got to realize my potential in football and I could of played for a powerhouse team—Camelback High School. Another condition was that I work. So I had to get a job and I did. I started working on Thomas Road right off 38th Street at Kentucky Fried Chicken. The next condition was that I give up wrestling but I wouldn't give up wrestling. I fought them repeatedly stating "I was a champion." "I can't give up wrestling." Eventually they submitted that I could continue wrestling but I had to work too.

### Daily abuse

From day one, living with my mom and Ken was a nightmare. I lost football in the year I could have been my best, but that was just the start of Ken's plans for me. Ken abused me everyday, all day long. "Your just like your father Mr. Cartagena, a loser." He tried to break my spirit. I would wake up everyday and get ready for school. My mom would go to work early in the morning. Ken would be up riding his stationery bike reading the paper. I would ask him, "Ken, can you take me to school, I'm late?" "No." said Ken, "walk". Ken wouldn't even look at me. Camelback was a few miles away and I had no way to get to school on a daily basis, so I had to jog to school everyday and the consequence was that I was late everyday. When I came back home after school, I would find the entire garbage thrown all over my bed with my clothes from my dresser and closet mixed in with the garbage on the bed. Ken often said to me, "you're a piece of s*** or "you're garbage." I went to my mom and Ken to ask what happened, Ken's response was "you didn't make your bed", or "you left one of your underwear's out", or "you were late getting up." Everyday the garbage was in my bed and my mother didn't do anything about it. My mom described this as "tough love." Sure it was tough but where was the love? It just felt dehumanizing. I was angry and sad inside everyday.

### My schedule school/wrestling/work

My schedule was impossible. I'd get up at 6am, get ready for school, jog to school a couple of miles. Then I'd go to school all day, and then go to wrestling practice until 5pm, which was grueling, and then I have to jog back home to go to work until midnight at Kentucky Fried Chicken. If I didn't work Ken was going to kick me out. He kept pushing me to make a mistake. At some point, Ken couldn't break me, so he just decided get rid of me. He poured on the abuse and took pleasure in it. I still didn't brake. I took his abuse every day and I continued to work hard towards my goals of becoming a state champion again and graduating from high school. I wasn't going to let him stop me. My determination went as far as the attitude that I would sleep on the roof of my high school if I had to in order to graduate. Nothing I did at home was good enough. No matter how hard I worked, that wasn't enough. My name became "loser." Everything I did was wrong in Ken and my mom's eyes. I was an emotional punching bag for them. "Mr. Cartagena you're just like your father, a piece of ****." My home life was just brutal. I could feel the hatred Ken and my mom felt towards me. I had the daily frustration and anger from the denial of mistreatment. I just tried to survive from day to day and fear was always in the back of my mind. "Where will I go?" "How do I take care of myself?" "When can I escape from here?" I was so conflicted.

### Wrestling

Wrestling had started. I missed the football season and was very disappointed, but now I had my chance. I went out for the wrestling team. The Camelback team seemed like a motley crew. Our coach, Mr. Culbertson was a substitute teacher. Dale, a relative of Mr. Culbertson was heavily involved with the program and more physical with us than the older Mr. Culbertson. We had several transfers including myself who were actually very good wrestlers. Ray and Charlie were two kids who transferred from out of state. They were excellent wrestlers. I didn't really know anyone, although I did recognize a couple of kids. One was Jeff, who was my co-worker at Kentucky Fried Chicken. He, Darnell and I goofed around a lot at KFC. Then there was this kid named Matt. Matt was a good looking, white preppy jock looking kid. I remembered him from the first days I arrived at the school when there was a prep rally going on. I sat there in the stands with a kid who went to independence my freshman year, Jerry. I remembered Jerry because we played football together and he was a good player. Now he was a Chollo. The school named Matt the Prom King and Vera, someone else I knew who worked with me at Kentucky Fried Chicken, prom queen. When I saw that, I thought I'm going to kill that kid Matt. I saw him as another in-group snob. Little did I know how my relationship with Matt would turn out?

I met another kid named John. He was hanging out with all the yuppies, like Matt. John was a preppy white kid and the 100 pounder for the wrestling team, Matt wrestled 145, and I wrestled 126. One of the new kids, Ray was at 119. We had Mike at 107, Charlie at 190, Jeff at 175, and Clete at heavyweight, and a bunch of other guys. I hit it off right away with the wrestlers. We didn't have the experienced coach's like at Independence or Peoria but our coaches cared. We actually had a good team, but no one knew how good we really were, not even us. In fact, Camelback wrestling did not have a legacy of excellence; to the contrary, traditionally they were one of the worse teams in Arizona. Little did anyone know we were about to transform Camelback wrestling to a powerhouse team in the state of Arizona.

As the season progressed, we were dominating teams in dual meets and tournaments. We won every dual meet, and we were going into tournaments and placing as a top five team.

I started the season poorly. I wasn't able to make weight for the first metro phoenix tournament (the first time in my wrestling career I didn't make weight). John had become a good friend and he didn't make weight either because we both were out the night before eating pizza. I had never done anything like that before. I just gave into temptation. Temptation was getting the best of me and my self-discipline was failing. We tried everything to cut weight but it was too late. I felt I let the team down. John and I were both seated number one, fortunately the team still did pretty well in the tournament without us. If sabe would have been our coach we would have been seriously punished. As I got to know John, I found out he was white, Mexican and Indian and he actually lived in the ghetto. No one really knew John, they just saw an image of him and believed what they saw like myself.

We went on to wrestle in dual meets: We wrestled against Maryvale, Alhambra, Cental, Carl Hayden, and other big central schools. We won every match and I was pinning everyone. It was weird being a returning state champion because every time I stepped into a match it brought more hype to it and people were starting to come after me. In other words, they were very motivated to beat me. In the past, I was always the underdog, now in wrestling I was the top dog, but I wasn't the same wrestler anymore.

### The Alhambra Match

This match against our division nemesis Alhambra High School was just the highlight of the year for our Camelback wrestling team. We were dominating our division one team after another. This one was a great battle. They came over to our house (Camelback High School) and we had everyone there. I remember lining up against them with the lights dimmed. They had some studs on their team including a kid who went on to play football for ASU and got drafted by the Arizona Cardinals. One of the memorable moments during the introductions was when one of their guys wore a beret so Mike, our 107lb wrestler, who was this guy's opponent got a hold of a beret and when they ran out to the center to shake hands, Mike threw on the beret. It was funny and disrespect to them. His opponent was favored to beat Mike, but Mike was able to defeat him in the match. We dominated Alhambra and it was sweet. This was one of the greatest team matches in my wrestling career. We were the best.

### Circle of Friends

My circle of friends was growing exponentially. First, there were my friends at Camelback, where I was making more friends daily, then, I had a few friends still at Independence. I was hanging out with Matt and his yuppie friends at Camelback. Matt was very popular at Camelback. He was the homecoming King. The yearbook really demonstated his popularity well since he was in half the book. Did I mention the girls liked Matt? They liked him a lot. John had his yuppie friends too, but they didn't know John's other side. John had his Mexican homey friends too. We all partied together.

One day Tess and I were hanging out and we stopped at McDonald's. There were two homeboys hanging out there. I couldn't help but notice them. I was still wearing Lee jeans and sporting my name buckle belt and Adidas. Tess gave me a hard time about that but she was very down to earth. I walked up to them. "Yo wuz up?" I said. "Wuz up? Man." "Eddie. " "Jaime, and this is my brother Jason." "Where are you homeboys from?" "The Bronx, New York!" Jaime said. "What! I'm from The Bronx man!" "Where in The Bronx?" I asked. "Parkchester." He said. "Get out a here!" "My dad lives in Parkchester." Jamie and Jason were the first dudes I had ever met here in Phoenix from The Bronx like myself. We were instant friends. They were Puerto Rican just like me. They went to Alhambra High School, one of the big central schools and our division rival. I told them I went to Camelback and I got their numbers but little did I know that meeting would change my life in Phoenix.

Jaime was a tall good-looking kid. Jason was his younger brother, a little smaller than Jaime but both had their style. Jaime had his hair slicked backed on the sides and an aqua net curl on the top, yes very 80's, but back then it was cool. They started coming over to Camelback to watch me wrestle and hangout. We had quite the social circle building up: All the wrestlers, mat maids, Jaime and Jason and their entourage. It was getting fun. Jaime and Jason were good dancers and the girls liked them. This is where I met Sofieda, Gloria, Stacey, Carmen, and Lisa. I remember seeing Sofieda the first time on the mat and I was like who's this good looking girl? She was this skinny punks girlfriend—John! Our social life exploded when we started hanging out at Tommy's. Tommy's was the local hangout for high school kids all over Phoenix. Jaime and I had begun to forge a good friendship. I used to go over his house and eat Puerto Rican rice and beans. He lived with his mom and brother. Jaime became my party friend, but I thought of him like a brother. We always had fun. I would rap and he was a beat box and he and Jason would dance. He was also very emotional. Sometimes he would get really upset. I didn't know where that was coming from, but I cared about Jaime and was looking out for him.

Chapter 11

I wrestled in the championship of every tournament. In the championship at the McClintock tournament I wrestled a kid from Sunnyside. Sunnyside was the most dominating school in Arizona, even more than Peoria. I had never wrestled against them. I didn't really even know who they were because we were always in different divisions. We had a great match. He put me on my back and I put him on his, it was a real battle. However, I got called for a pin, even though I didn't agree. That was the first time I ever got pinned and no less in a championship match?

I wrestled in the Phoenix College championship and got out scored against another very good wrestler. Then the biggest disappointment was the Peoria Invitational. This was the perennial largest tournament in Arizona. I had always wanted to win this one. I was hearing that if I did win it I would get the MVP of the tournament. I was wrestling very well. In the championship match, we were tied until the last seconds. I didn't finish him off and he drove me out of bounds to the hard floor. I let go thinking we were out of bounds and the ref called it a take down. I lost. That was my whole year in everything. Nothing was working. I couldn't win in anything. Then there was the final blow. I failed every class in the first semester and I was no longer eligible to wrestle. My wrestling career was over. I was stunned. I wouldn't even get the opportunity to get better. I was just out. Unfortunately, John, Ray, Charlie and some other kids failed their classes as well and we were all off the team. Camelback became a Cinderella team. In the Peoria Invitational, Camelback usually finished close to last among thirty or so teams. John, Ray, and myself were all in the Peoria Invitational Championship matches. We finished around third. We could of taken that tournament. People I knew from all over the wrestling world were coming up to me and saying who's that kid with the arms (Matt)? Who's that kid (Ray)? Who's your coach? We stunned the state of Arizona. We were beating or battling teams like Sunnyside and Peoria. We dominated our division. Now it was over and I felt again that I completely let my team down. I just couldn't take it anymore. The rejection from my family, being persecuted by the New Jersey Police, the abuse from Ken and my mom, failing school, and now being kicked off the wrestling team after becoming a champion the year before. This was a major low point in my life.

I lost my match in the Peoria Invitational Championship. I lost the match on what I thought and others was a bad call with a few seconds in the match. It was like everything else that year. I couldn't get it together. I should have won but I didn't. The next day when I was home I found the newspaper on the kitchen table with my match in the paper. Ken had circled the article and my name in a black marker and drew an arrow underneath it and wrote in large letters "LOSER!"

I knew Ken was trying to force me out of the house and wanted to see me fail.

### Brendalyn

Brendalyn and I were destined to cross paths. I first met her in my Senior high school English class. My initial impression was that she was an attractive girl. She was fairly tall for a girl but not taller than myself, maybe 5'7." She had blonde hair down to her shoulders. She was very cute and dressed very nice. I remember Brendalyn being quiet. I don't remember hearing her much. My impression however was that Brendalyn was "stuck up" and would never be interested in me. There was a boy in the class that liked Brendalyn and was always bugging me about her. "Oh man I like that girl." Do you think she would go out with me?" I would say, "No man, she wouldn't go out with you." "That chick is stuck up man." "Yeah your right dude," he said. This went on all semester until one day out in the court yard of Camelback High School Brendalyn's friend Mandy, was eyeing me. She was eyeing me in a way to attract me to her. I wasn't interested in her but I was interested in what was up with this behavior.

Mandy revealed to me that Brendalyn really liked me. This was a complete shock to me. Brendalyn came up to me and admitted it. She had secretly always liked me. She even went as far to obtain my school records to find out my home address and phone number. I was so surprised and flattered. I hadn't ever had an experience like this. I was completely wrong about her. At that moment I fell for her. We made a connection and I was very attracted to her. I then began to get to know Brendalyn. What I found about her was very surprising and admirable. Brendalyn was living on her own with her friend. She moved down here (to Phoenix) from Payson, AZ. She even had a family business up there. I'll never forget her living in the Warren Apartments off Thomas road. Today that's a scary place. She had a studio apartment there on the second floor. It was like affordable apartments for Phoenix twenty years ago. Now it's the home of people "down and out." For some reason she came all the way down here to go to Camelback High school and by some fate I ended up my senior year fleeing the police in New York and ended up at Camelback.

My life was in shatters but with Brendalyn she brought happiness and security to me. She was kind of a tough chick. I remember she used to smoke and drink and she was on her own. She seemed to have been around the block but she was still a kid. The real Brendalyn was someone totally different than my impression at school. At school I thought she was a quiet, stuck up, yuppie girl. Getting to know her I saw a very independent, tough, beer drinking and smoking country girl, who had a soft spot for me. We liked and cared for each other. I never had these feelings towards a girl before.

### Camelback High School

I was a fragile kid feeling very rejected by everyone in my life, although you couldn't tell from looking at me because I was hard. I felt very alone and angry with life. I had a Julius Caesar hair cut which was hard-core south Bronx, with my Adidas shell tops with black stripes and a brown leather bomber jack. No one looked like me; I really became tough, mean, and cynical. I was trying desperately to control my life but my life was out of control. I felt compelled to escape to someplace better or some short cut to pleasure. I couldn't concentrate in class, I never wanted to go home, and I easily was distracted with drugs. This was new for me. I was always able to focus and pursue my goals in high school. Not any longer. I was trying so hard to show up to school, behave myself, not get into any fights, succeed in wrestling, and generally do what I was supposed to. It was a fight I was bound to lose.

### Kicked out

I came home from school one day and my clothes were thrown from one end of the street to the other. I tried to open the door with my key but the key didn't work anymore, so I knocked on the door. My mom answered and told me I couldn't live there anymore and that she couldn't help me. She closed the door in my face and I was out in the streets.

I was stunned. On one hand, it was totally unexpected, and on the other, I knew something was coming. I felt abandoned and helpless. I wasn't prepared to be on my own. I didn't know what to do or where to go. I only knew I wanted to graduate from high school.

My mom and Ken didn't care if I graduated or not. I remember riding the bus all day long just sitting there silent and perplexed. I tried to process what had happened to me, but the sting lasted all day. I felt another betrayal, another stab in my back. I stared out the bus window saying under my breath, "wow!"

### Ken

Ken easily was one of the most difficult painful relationships I ever had. My relationships with adult males were very limited. Ken was nice to me when I first met him. He gave me a cheap classical guitar from his shop to look good in front of my mom, but when he got together with my mom he was never nice again. He became my mom's tag team partner of abuse. When I was falsely accused and sitting in jail in New Jersey asking him for help, Ken said, "your not my family, I'm not doing s*** for you a**hole." He took away football from me in my senior year. He made me work after school and wrestling until 12am everyday. He emotionally abused me daily. He was never kind to me, never had a pleasant word to say. He treated me like a sub human being, throwing the garbage in my bed and mixing with my clothes, throwing my clothes in the pool, throwing my clothes in the streets, calling me a loser and a piece of s*** everyday. To say I hated Ken would be an understatement. We played a game of chess with my hands tied behind my back but with Ken it was no holds barred. He figured out probably that his plan of abuse wasn't working and so he threw me out when I needed them the most. This was the most profound relationship unfortunately I would have with an older male father figure. This is how I went out into the world, an angry, hard, determined to win person. Ken wasn't sorry about anything. My mom had nothing say except "you deserve it." Anger and hatred stirred and twisted deep in my heart.

Chapter 12

### The Zene's

Matt parents were very involved with the wrestling team. The wrestling team at Camelback had no respect. In the beginning of the season we were all wrestling with different uniforms. We looked like a motley crew (although we were). Jim, Matt's dad, went out and bought us uniforms. That completely changed the image of us as a unified fighting machine from our motley crew look. What parent would do that? I had never seen anything like that. Everyone was pumped about it. At that time, Jim was a CEO of a construction company. Judy was a stay at home mom and worked with the mat maids. Wrestling was a whole different culture here. There were a lot of cute girls running around practice and it was fun. We all bonded together, the wrestlers and the mat maids. Our coaches weren't running a machine like Peoria but they cared and Jim and Judy were behind us. This was the coolest program I had ever been apart of. We all became great friends. Some of the mat maids especially became apart of our group like Sofieda, Gloria, Stacy, and our groupie's like Carmen. We all started to hang out at Tommy's. Even Jamie and Jason started to hang out with our wrestling team even though they were from Alhambra. We all went to Tommy's along with people from every central school. I soon found friends and myself the center of who's who in Phoenix. We formed a big larger group. It was great especially after three years of terrible rejection at Independence. Interestingly, even kids from Independence became apart of the scene. Kim and Pam, I remember in particular because they were so pretty.

After my bus ride, I told friends that I was homeless and later on in the day Matt asked me if I would like to live with him. I was feeling very distrustful but I needed some place to stay, I had to graduate from high school. I didn't want to be a high school dropout, so I accepted Matt's offer.

There was another turn of events going on at the same time. John and Ray were struggling with their parents as well. John lived with his mother and stepfather in the hood on 24thst. and Roosevelt, near Arizona State Hospital (The psych ward/prison). Matt and I took John home that day after practice. John went into his house and Matt and I waited outside. All of a sudden, John came flying out of the house and jumped into the car and said, "go man!" Vic, John's alcoholic step dad came flying outside after John and started punching the car window trying to break it. He was yelling at the top of his lungs, "I'm going to kill you!" All this startled me. We tore out and John rolled down the window and yelled "**** you man!" We drove off. Now John had nowhere to stay either. The next thing I knew, Matt, John and I were living in Matt's house together.

I went over to their place. Matt lived in hills in a place called Squaw Peak. This was a very nice area near Paradise Valley (this is where all the rich people lived). Matt lived very well. They even had a maid who came over weekly to clean. This was a far cry from my section 8 apartment. It was very cool. Jim pulled me aside to talk to me. I was wondering what I had to do to stay there. What were the conditions? I was afraid they were going to abuse me like everyone else. I thought I'd have to work and pay him or something of that nature. I asked him, "What do I have to do to live here?" He said, "The condition of you staying here is that you graduate from high school." I was stunned. What? Graduate high school? But that's what I want to do. I was puzzled. I was suspicious and afraid, no one was ever kind to me, but Jim and Judy took care of me and helped me to graduate. They treated with respect, dignity, and trust. Treatment I never received in my life. I walked around on tippy toes always fearful I was going to be abused or do something wrong. I had a strange feelings of peace, goodness, and security there. This was the first time I had ever felt that way in my life. It felt good. Jim and Judy had become very special people to me. I looked up to Jim as a father. For the first time in my life there was a man I trusted and had confidence in. I also appreciated Judy. She did things for us, never complained, and I could see she was Matt's biggest supporter. I never experienced that. No one supported me. God was the only one on my side. But now, I had to take eight classes my last semester to graduate. I really had my work cut out for me.

### Living with Matt and John

It was great living with Matt and John. We became like brothers. We did everything together, although Matt and I would torture John because he was naughty.

We had a curfew at Matt's house. Everyone had to be home by 11PM. Matt and I kept the curfew for the most part, but John often did not. John worked at the Red Devil, which is a pizza place that's been around a long time here. John would get off work and go out with Sofieda until late hours of the night. Matt and I were getting mad that John wasn't following the rules, so we used to play a game with John. It was called Kill John. We would give John two minutes to run and hide from the crazy laughing monkeys. If we found him we beat him with sticks. John would run and hide and Matt and I would get our beating sticks. We could never find John however. I remember we would always ask Matt's grandmother (she lived in the house too). She would always say "I haven't seen him," but she was lying. Grandma knew where John was and she was hiding him. He got lucky those days. We looked everywhere even on the roof and we couldn't find John.

I remember we would hang out upstairs, which was like an apartment, and watch TV shows like David Letterman, wrestling tapes, or movies like Vision Quest. Those two guys couldn't make it 15 minutes into the show I'd turn around and they'd be sleeping, especially if I was playing guitar.

One night in 1984 when Matt and I were home and John hadn't got back yet. We were going to kill him, not seriously. Matt and I snuck out and rode our bikes up the hillside to Allen's house. He was having a party. It actually was a pretty big party. We drank a bit that night and we had to get back home it was getting real late, like after 1AM. We rode our bikes back home and I remember we were flying. Phoenix was real quiet back then. There was no highway around Squaw Peak. I came zipping around the corner of Matt's neighborhood and my bike slid from under me. I ended up on the ground looking up at Matt laughing hysterically at me and I couldn't help but laugh too. I got up and we snuck back in. John was upstairs sleeping. We whispered to him, "Kill John tomorrow."

Another night John and I went out with Brendalyn and her friend. We partied until late in the evening. We weren't supposed to be out that late living at Matt's house but it was a magical evening for me. I had never felt so close to someone in my life. Brendalyn was beautiful, sweet and she cared about me. This was too incredible for me to completely process in my head. I was floating in the clouds. Suddenly I had two best friends I cared about and a girl, who was a dream for me. The worse time in my life quickly became the best time in my life.

### High School graduation

I had taken seven courses fighting to finish and succeed in one of the most important goals of my life—high school graduation. Everyday I plowed through all the work, doing my best to get it all done. Matt, John, and Brendalyn would try to help me out. I finally got everything done and turned in. It was time for graduation and I wasn't allowed to participate with my graduating class and I didn't know if I had even graduated from Camelback. It was very disappointing not being able to walk with Matt, John, Brendalyn and our other friends. Despite that I went to the graduation ceremony to cheer them on and I found out at the last minute that I had graduated! I was so pumped up. I did it! I was a high school graduate! I wasn't a high school drop out. I never gave up and I did it. This was one if not the biggest accomplishments of my life. Everybody was excited for me and Jim and Judy congratulated me. I remember Matt and John in their robes and me in my street clothes taking a picture together. We were very excited to graduate and felt the world and our whole life in front of us. It was a great feeling of accomplishment, freedom, and hope.

I continued to see Brendalyn. She apologized for being grumpy to me lately. I really cared for her and was blessed to have her in my life.

My ending in high school wrestling was very disappointing, so I got back into wrestling in the summer and won the freestyle state championship. There was some redemption there. I didn't know what I was going to do with my life. I was finally free from my mother and Ken and I reached the most important goal of my life after winning the state championship, graduating from high school. Matt and his family became like family to me. He and John were my like my brothers.

Right after graduation, a letter arrived from Phoenix College. Jim came up stairs and gave it to me and left. As I was standing there, I opened the envelope. Inside was a note from Dave Severson, the wrestling coach at Phoenix College. I read the letter to myself. Coach Severson was inviting me to wrestle at Phoenix College! I was stunned. It took me a moment to process this. My head slowly fell down and my arm began to rise with strength. With my fist clenched in the air, I pumped my arm in victory. Quietly choking up, it hit me, that I had overcome a long difficult childhood struggle. I looked up to heaven and quietly whispered, "Thank you Father." Then I closed my eyes and took a slow deep breath.

### Epilogue

I went on to wrestle in college and earn three degrees, including graduating from Columbia University. I met my wife at Columbia; she had just arrived from the Peace Corps. We've been together and married for over twenty years now. I have two girls and am very thankful to have a loving family. After college, I developed a private practice helping people of all walks of life to excel in their careers, and now I work with children in education. I am also writing and doing music.

My friend Chris played quarterback at Lakewood, HS and in college. He still lives in Lakewood, NJ. Chris has a daughter, is divorced and works for a utility there. Chris and I were able to reconnect later in life.

Matt and I went on to wrestle at Phoenix College together, then Matt became an all American wrestler at Adam's state, I ended up wrestling at Columbia University until I finally decided to hang my shoes up. Matt and his wife became fitness trainers in their own practice and champion body builders. It broke my heart when Mr. Zene passed away years ago from a brain tumor but he is survived by Mrs. Zene who is retired and living in Phoenix. Matt and I are still best friends.

John and I lived together after high school and started a blues band. We even tried out for Star Search back in the 80's. John started a family early, then raised another family after his divorce. He works in a union and has his own tree trimming business. We're still best friends.

Sadly, my friend Jamie passed away years ago, committing suicide. I love that guy and miss him. He was survived by a child.

Brendalyn, moved back to Payson after high school and I never saw her again. She had a family up there and was involved in her mom and dad's candle business.

My mom is retired and traveling around. She still lives in Phoenix. My dad is still in The Bronx living with his girlfriend Julie for many years. He is now retired.

Ken passed away some years ago, but fortunately, I was able to become friends with him in his older years. I miss hearing him yell and seeing him sitting in his chair in the den, watching TV. I was at Ken's side on his dying bed, holding his hand as he passed to eternity.

