“It looks like that’s what’s happening since we have 2 other Mexicans shooting us messages from 2 different buildings telling us they are the head burrito.”
Chapter 15
One of the 2 Mexicans answered to Stranger. He was from West Los Angeles and was in 5 building and had come from Chino Prison Palm Hall. That alone meant he just left some heavy hitting mobsters. Palm Hall at Chino was southern headquarters for everything mafia in southern California. Damon and I noticed how he was pushing the line. He was active in getting word to each of the buildings in written messages he had Jason smuggle. Another sign of Stranger’s experience, the way he wrapped the written messages.
He folded up the note into an incredibly tiny size and wrapped it with plastic wrap in a way that sealed it a certain way and then wrapped thread around it in an organized way. It looked like he wrapped it 13 times one way and 13 times another way. It was like a puzzle and was meant to keep us, the smugglers, out of it. That only tempted us more. We called on our resident mechanic of all things wrapped, Blockhead, in the building with Damon and I, to peel the wrapped messages apart and put them back together exactly the same way they started. We found out that Stranger had the skills to run the yard.
He was collecting his homeboys from West LA who were spread out in each building and was pushing them to feed him information on who was running things for the Mexicans, and pushing them to step up and fill any voids to take leadership roles where they could as far as controlling the buildings, Stranger wanted the yard, and a third of Termite’s dope flow. Damon and I watched him get escorted to medical a couple of times, he went once a week. He walked like he was bullet proof and always had his blue denim jacket on buttoned to the chin even though it was 115 degrees out. At 5’7 and 200 lbs he walked with the confidence that conveyed that he was ready at any level and had already faced everything. His face went from stoic soldier to angry soldier with nothing in between.
The other Mexican went by Cyclone. He was from San Bernardino and in building 1. Word on him was he was a straight gang banging killer. He was doing a life sentence for 3 murders on rival gang bangers but was only a youngster at 25 years old and didn’t have the management skills or experience to pull the Mexican line up together to delegate authority beneath him, but he was all heart and already getting a percentage of Termite’s dope. I had the opportunity to see him on his way to medical every other day. He was a light colored Mexican born and bred on the streets and his gang affiliation was blasted in ink on his bald head, neck, arms and hands and probably everywhere else the state outfit covered.
Chapter 16
The Mexicans and Blacks were de-escalating and coming off lockdown. The Prison Administration was allowing a couple of Mexicans and Blacks out in each building to let them go to each cell in their race to explain the next phase. They were testing the waters to see if the war was really over in a controlled setting.
Next, the Prison Administration allowed a small number of Mexican and Black inmates to go to work as janitors in the buildings, and also in the chow hall and on the yard as landscapers and trash men.
The next phase was the crucial one. The Prison Administration was allowing 100 Mexican and Black inmates to the yard in a controlled setting with double the amount of prison guards watching nearby with block guns and all the other prison guards on the other 3 yards aware of the situation and ready. My earlier imaginings of the Mexicans squatting on the curbs right next to each other like a row of sardines was underway.
The yard was quickly filling up and it kept getting worse. We had more than 200 Mexicans and 200 Blacks out. Damon and I had just finished working out in the back corner of the yard with an eye on our
Chapter 15
One of the 2 Mexicans answered to Stranger. He was from West Los Angeles and was in 5 building and had come from Chino Prison Palm Hall. That alone meant he just left some heavy hitting mobsters. Palm Hall at Chino was southern headquarters for everything mafia in southern California. Damon and I noticed how he was pushing the line. He was active in getting word to each of the buildings in written messages he had Jason smuggle. Another sign of Stranger’s experience, the way he wrapped the written messages.
He folded up the note into an incredibly tiny size and wrapped it with plastic wrap in a way that sealed it a certain way and then wrapped thread around it in an organized way. It looked like he wrapped it 13 times one way and 13 times another way. It was like a puzzle and was meant to keep us, the smugglers, out of it. That only tempted us more. We called on our resident mechanic of all things wrapped, Blockhead, in the building with Damon and I, to peel the wrapped messages apart and put them back together exactly the same way they started. We found out that Stranger had the skills to run the yard.
He was collecting his homeboys from West LA who were spread out in each building and was pushing them to feed him information on who was running things for the Mexicans, and pushing them to step up and fill any voids to take leadership roles where they could as far as controlling the buildings, Stranger wanted the yard, and a third of Termite’s dope flow. Damon and I watched him get escorted to medical a couple of times, he went once a week. He walked like he was bullet proof and always had his blue denim jacket on buttoned to the chin even though it was 115 degrees out. At 5’7 and 200 lbs he walked with the confidence that conveyed that he was ready at any level and had already faced everything. His face went from stoic soldier to angry soldier with nothing in between.
The other Mexican went by Cyclone. He was from San Bernardino and in building 1. Word on him was he was a straight gang banging killer. He was doing a life sentence for 3 murders on rival gang bangers but was only a youngster at 25 years old and didn’t have the management skills or experience to pull the Mexican line up together to delegate authority beneath him, but he was all heart and already getting a percentage of Termite’s dope. I had the opportunity to see him on his way to medical every other day. He was a light colored Mexican born and bred on the streets and his gang affiliation was blasted in ink on his bald head, neck, arms and hands and probably everywhere else the state outfit covered.
Chapter 16
The Mexicans and Blacks were de-escalating and coming off lockdown. The Prison Administration was allowing a couple of Mexicans and Blacks out in each building to let them go to each cell in their race to explain the next phase. They were testing the waters to see if the war was really over in a controlled setting.
Next, the Prison Administration allowed a small number of Mexican and Black inmates to go to work as janitors in the buildings, and also in the chow hall and on the yard as landscapers and trash men.
The next phase was the crucial one. The Prison Administration was allowing 100 Mexican and Black inmates to the yard in a controlled setting with double the amount of prison guards watching nearby with block guns and all the other prison guards on the other 3 yards aware of the situation and ready. My earlier imaginings of the Mexicans squatting on the curbs right next to each other like a row of sardines was underway.
The yard was quickly filling up and it kept getting worse. We had more than 200 Mexicans and 200 Blacks out. Damon and I had just finished working out in the back corner of the yard with an eye on our
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