Where Is This Place

Called
Eden?

"Of all the words of tongue and pen
The saddest
are, 'It might have been'
More sad are these we daily see
'It is, but it
hadn't ought to be'
Bret Harte, Mrs. Judge Jenkins
"I hooked up with Reggie, the drug dealer.
He and I would travel to Mexico where I'd be used to carry the drugs. He'd tape
pills inside a coat and I'd wear it across customs acting like a cool 11 years
old kid. He used me too I guess, but he taught me to sell pills and grass.
Pretty soon he was busted with 10 kilos of pot and sent away to
prison."
"So, to support my heroin habit, I became a thief. For three
years I was the best. I went back to school for my G.E.D. and trade school. I
was such a screw-up nobody would have anything to do with me. Looking back, I
sure can't blame them."
"It was 1967 when Tory came into our lives. Tory
was a merchant marine who jumped ship just to be with Mom - she was a real
looker in those days. Tory became a truck driver with a something we had never
known before - a regular paycheck. With Tory's paychecks we came to know a
little about 'the good life', leastways as good as it ever gets in the
ghetto."
"My brother-in-law, Melvin, was a thief and a heroin addict,
like so many others in our neighborhood - it was just our way of life. Melvin
would rob stores, homes - you name it - it made no difference to him. He'd bring
all kinds of things, stolen things, home for us to sell all the
stuff."
"By now I had lived a thousand lifetimes, compared to many, and
had just turned 16 years old. One night Mel brought some guns home for me to
fence. Along the way to get rid of them, Mel wants me to run into the
convenience store to get him a root beer and a pack of Kool. Just as the clerk
is handling the merchandise to me Melvin rushes in and demand the money from the
clerk. I yelled at him 'what the...?! Are you crazy?!' and he pointed the gun at
me, threatening me to shoot me if I didn't grab the cash."
"When I say I
was a thief, I was not the kind of thief - this was way out of my line. Having
no choice, I take the money and I run for the car. When I got to the car I heard
a shot and at that exact moment in time a little boy became a man - a very
scared young man."
"Witnesses heard me say 'Are you crazy?' and they saw
Mel point that gun at me. Being young, naive, trusting of everyone, and a bit
'retarded' I guess, I accepted their charge of Murder in the Second Degree.
Although I was no 'Goody-Two-Shoes' I sure wasn't any murderer. Coming from the
wrong side of the tracks sure made it easy to get into trouble."
"Like
the kindly old black lady told me, 'We ain't got no rules, we ain't got no
discipline, but we got soul, baby...We got's a lotsa soul.' A good soul
kept our neighborhood bristling. Beer drinking, shooting dice or just 'hanging
out'. A high unemployment rate meant a lot of time on everyone's hands.
Time
for trouble."
"I guess I was the most introverted, most peaceful, thief
in the ghetto. I began stealing. 'cause I grew up hungry.' Between my two
scrapes with the law I proved to the world that if I wasn't retarded, I was
surely a couple of bricks short of a load. Like I heard on the news the other
day, 'I don't make many mistakes, but when I do, it's a beaut."
"I
learned a lot about law from that. The great leaders or our country were all
lawyers who fought for right and justice - I just assumed they could be
trusted."
"Where were Washington and Jefferson and Lincoln when I really
needed them? Nobody told my lawyers anything about them. There's no longer any
such thing as 'true justice', you get what you pay for. I may be retarded but I
ain't stupid."
"Sometimes the ugliness of humankind is too painful to
bear."
"In our neighborhood, kids who went to the CYA - California Youth
Authority - reformatory were respected for being tough dudes. It meant you'd
been through the courts and the youth camps and you deserved regular prison but
you weren't old enough. Then you were c-o-o-o-l."
"California had CYA
North (At Preston, 75% white) and CYA South (In Southern California 75% black).
They sent me to Preston. It was funny in a way 'cause I knew a good many of the
kids there. Because I hung out with the Bernard brothers - my friend, Paul, and
his brothers Woody and Pete - I was respected there. Everybody knew the Bernard
boys wee cool."
"Whites from the South were cooler (we thought) than the
Northern withes. Chicanos and Homeboys (blacks) were there to contend with as
well. We'd settle our differences in the blindspots - the small areas where the
towers couldn't see you. I was plenty scared at first - they force you into
fights to find out who's tough enough to lead the group."
"The first
fight I had I got lucky - fist fighting seemed to come natural for me. I was
yelling. 'Come on, you ain't got shit, man', things like that to psyche them
out. I was blocking punches like a pro and the first punch I swung knocked the
guy out cold."
"Word spread quickly, Bo Cook was one tough
son-of-a-bitch- I was accepted by all the cool dudes after that, even the older
ones. To be really cool you had to have tattoos and I came up with more than my
share. Muscles were important and so I worked to develop them."
"There
were always riots. The South whites and South Chicanos stuck together and the
North Chicanos and all blacks teamed up. Clubs and knives were common but the
unwritten law was 'no deaths'. Stabbings and beatings were ok, just no deaths,
which is what made you crazy. It was a constant battle of nerves, panic and fear
- neverending. This 'get them before they get you' mentality becomes a state of
mind and you get good at it (or you get your all whipped on a regular
basis)."
"With the Chicanos it was cool to carry shanks (homemade or
smuggled knives). I never carried one so I had to be expecially watchful of
those who did. One morning at breakfast we had the mother of all riots -
stabbings were going on all around me. I grabbed the only thing in sight - a pan
of super hot oatmeal - and began to sling it in every direction. That pan was
the only thing that saved myself from a stabbing. Blood and gore was
everywhere."
"Before I went in, I became good friends with the whole
Bernard family. They were the most awesome and the meanest band of half-breed
Okies you ever want to see. Ruby, the Mom was a full-blooded Cherokee and the
Dad was Irish. The three boys (Woody, Pete & Paul) and three girls (Bonnie,
Lovina & Bernadine) were all close to me. Bernadine ('Bear' we called her)
was the youngest at age 11 when we became fast friends."
"Now the
Bernards were heavy drinkers, beer mostly, to escape their lives in that ghetto.
Bonnie married a black guy and was promptly disowned. My buddy Paul and me knew
one day we'd find the end of that rainbow - our 'Eden', we used to call it -
knowing the story of Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden. It had to be out there
somewhere - but where?"
"Lovina and my sister Glenda became friends and
began dating black guys and the Bernard brothers would have none of this - and
the war began. All the blacks in the projects assembled 'cause they knew the
reputation of the Bernard family. They made fire bombs of gasoline and were
throwing them in at the Bernard apartment - burned up the entire living
area."
"Now everyone knew that Woody (the oldest and the biggest) was
nobody to cross. He served his time in the CYA for stabbing a gangster (white)
in the neighborhood and he was 'one crazy white boy'! He went off! He cornered
four blacks at the basketball courts, whipped them bad, and went out looking for
more."
Before long everybody had a gun or a firebomb on them - black or
white - and our neighborhood was afire. People were getting shot and stabbed in
a wholesale slaughter. Woody was jumped by over 15 blacks and snapped. He
grabbed a gun and began to mow them down. He only got three of them but he went
down a fighting."
"To our surprise Woody lived and was almost cleared of
wrongdoing because of the circumstances. He was given a choice by the court:
Prison or the Military (which meant Vietnam). Woody joined the
Army."
"While I was still in CYA in 1976 I got the news that Paul Bernard
and my baby brother Junior (14 at that time) had robbed a store and was cornered
by the police. Paul had an unloaded gun but he wansn't about to go back into
CYA. He waved his gun and shouted: 'Kill me or I will kill you' - he was ready
to die. Paul was shot eleven times. Barely alive, he was eventually placed into
a mental institution. Where is this place called Eden? You don't want to know,
Bro, you really don't want to know!"
"Baby brother was sent to 'camp'
it's like a milder version of the CYA. My release came on March 25,
1978."
"Woody was relased from the Army, settled down with a wife. Pete
became a biker and began to hang out with Bear and me. I had paroled out to Mom
but I stayed with Bear and her Mom Ruby. Without Paul there would be no
Eden!"
"With our Eden now behind us, we had some serious growing up to
do. A future for 'Bear and me? Naw, i don't think so. Time! Only time will tell!

If every man and woman and child in the world had a
chance to make a decent,
fair, honest living, there would be no jails, and no
lawyers and no courts,
Clarence Darrow, An Address to Prisoners

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