the Blacks and overwhelmed them in sheer numbers. 9 Black men used their fist to punch as fast as they could to fend off the attackers and were quickly backpedaling and catching up to the one Black man who initially took off running. The Mexicans circled the Blacks and squeezed tighter and one Black man after another fell to the ground and the stomping and kicking began. I looked at the tower and saw the block gun explode with the smoke rising off the tip of the barrel but couldn’t hear it over the noise of war. The projectile from the block gun bounced off a denim jacking wearing Mexican and the onslaught continued. The building guards were all running out of vestibule doors I never heard open and as they got close enough to the action fired block guns without any effect at the overwhelming number in the melee. Pepper spray canisters emptied, more guards arrived from the other 3 yards, more block guns fired, and finally the Mexicans stopped and laid flat on their stomachs. Pieces of the blocks that had been fired had broken into pieces of debris sizzling on the ground everywhere.
The Blacks survived the attack in one piece without a need for a stretcher. We watched their swollen and bleeding faces in agony from the pepper spray accept the handcuffs just happy enough to be alive. They were walked toward the D Yard gate and were headed to the Hole-Ad-Seg. Next, the Mexicans were lifted to their feet in handcuffs and walked the same way.
Damon said, “Mexicans 1, Blacks 1. The war might be over.”
I said, “I hope not, I like the yard without them.” I knew it was a selfish thing to say but surviving would get a lot harder because I knew what was coming, I’d been to this rodeo before.
Chapter 14
Over the next two months I was really programming. I got the ideal job, package clerk. Inmates who ordered quarterly packages and ordered them with their own money went through me. This allowed me to have a typewriter in my cell and I was able to write movie scripts faster, I’m coming Hollywood!
Unfortunately, life got harder for the White race. Both L’il Bird and Droopy had a middle of the night raid by the I.G.I, and the gang investigators took them from their cells and re-housed them in the Hole-Ad-Seg and weren’t nice enough to give them time to leave any instructions for the rest of the Mexicans. It would have worked out better if they had because now all of the Mexicans were left without leadership and were fighting for control of the yard and it was chaos.3 different gang bangers got at Damon and me and told us they were responsible for the yard and to do business with them. It put us in an uncomfortable position.
We could either play them against each other by being real and telling them the truth, that hey, so and so said he is running things, what’s up with that? But instead, we just observed for a while.
Termite was from the dessert in Indio and seemed to have all the dope somehow. Damon and I assumed that he had a prison guard on the payroll. The usual route for drugs to make it into prisons was through visiting, and visiting was shut down with the lockdown. Having big chunks of heroin and crystal meth made him think he could assume control of the yard for the Mexicans. I took one look at him and didn’t like his chances, he looked more like a drug smuggler, not a commander of men, but if he knew how to San Tzu his dope, possibly. I told this to Damon and he said, “I haven’t read enough apparently, what do you mean?”
“San Tzu wrote, The Art of War, a must read, after the Bible. For Termite to have a chance to control the Mexican line with an iron fist he has to line up the Mexicans and give the strongest neighborhood clicks just enough dope to make them loyal to his policies, then he might be able to call shots. If they detect any weakness or inexperience someone else will rise and demand a third of his dope as the shot caller.”
Damon said,
The Blacks survived the attack in one piece without a need for a stretcher. We watched their swollen and bleeding faces in agony from the pepper spray accept the handcuffs just happy enough to be alive. They were walked toward the D Yard gate and were headed to the Hole-Ad-Seg. Next, the Mexicans were lifted to their feet in handcuffs and walked the same way.
Damon said, “Mexicans 1, Blacks 1. The war might be over.”
I said, “I hope not, I like the yard without them.” I knew it was a selfish thing to say but surviving would get a lot harder because I knew what was coming, I’d been to this rodeo before.
Chapter 14
Over the next two months I was really programming. I got the ideal job, package clerk. Inmates who ordered quarterly packages and ordered them with their own money went through me. This allowed me to have a typewriter in my cell and I was able to write movie scripts faster, I’m coming Hollywood!
Unfortunately, life got harder for the White race. Both L’il Bird and Droopy had a middle of the night raid by the I.G.I, and the gang investigators took them from their cells and re-housed them in the Hole-Ad-Seg and weren’t nice enough to give them time to leave any instructions for the rest of the Mexicans. It would have worked out better if they had because now all of the Mexicans were left without leadership and were fighting for control of the yard and it was chaos.3 different gang bangers got at Damon and me and told us they were responsible for the yard and to do business with them. It put us in an uncomfortable position.
We could either play them against each other by being real and telling them the truth, that hey, so and so said he is running things, what’s up with that? But instead, we just observed for a while.
Termite was from the dessert in Indio and seemed to have all the dope somehow. Damon and I assumed that he had a prison guard on the payroll. The usual route for drugs to make it into prisons was through visiting, and visiting was shut down with the lockdown. Having big chunks of heroin and crystal meth made him think he could assume control of the yard for the Mexicans. I took one look at him and didn’t like his chances, he looked more like a drug smuggler, not a commander of men, but if he knew how to San Tzu his dope, possibly. I told this to Damon and he said, “I haven’t read enough apparently, what do you mean?”
“San Tzu wrote, The Art of War, a must read, after the Bible. For Termite to have a chance to control the Mexican line with an iron fist he has to line up the Mexicans and give the strongest neighborhood clicks just enough dope to make them loyal to his policies, then he might be able to call shots. If they detect any weakness or inexperience someone else will rise and demand a third of his dope as the shot caller.”
Damon said,
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