It Took a Village. Rubin Scott
or catch the early morning news report, normally the only news they would have regarding our surrounding area would be murders and fires. The violence and murders proceeded so often, that the media outlets finally labeled our area “the Killing Zone”.
It was truly worse than portrayed through images in the paper or seen on the news because for us, the horror would never end or subside. It was not something we could just turn off or turn away from it was consistently in the headlines broadcasting through T.V. and Newspaper.
At the height of the turf battles the violence got so out of hand against the turf drug spot competitors that even the police were too afraid to come into our community alone to “protect and serve.” With only one way in and one way out they would have quickly been surrounded. With a lack of manpower they would have been vastly out gunned. By the local drug dealers protecting there new illegal narcotics enterprises. Shootings were such an usual occurrence that shortly after moving into the neighborhood , my cousins and I starting being able to tell the difference between the different guns that were being fired throughout the night outside of our windows because we lived right next door to each other and would talk about the harrowing sounds the following day. The deep hollow bangs would echo in the night air breaking the temporary peaceful silence.
It was almost like being trapped in a war zone in a third world country. In retrospect, between all the individual turf wars over narcotics and distribution sales topped by the violence from their clients, our community turned into a breeding ground for personal and intimate violence on a scale like no other.
Chapter 2: The ‘80s
Looking at the worl d through the eyes as an adolescent growing up in the ‘80’s, it was impossible to escape the negative impact of our neighborhood. Without the proper resources to help, i t was impossible to fight this new epidemic of illegal narcotics. Before we knew it our community and our streets were being controlled and taken over by Crack, Heroin, death, murder, and mayhem. It all quickly became an accepted cultural norm in our social society growing up in the worst Impoverished neighborhoods in northern California.
Crack and cocaine had flooded the streets running through the urban neighborhoods like the “new chocolate.” Being cheap and highly addictive, this new mind and body altering drug was quickly on its way to destroying a whole generation of new users in record numbers.
“Zombie land” is what we felt like our surrounding area turned into at night. There would be so many Crack heads running around stealing from people, places or things in the neighborhood and nobody was off limits even their own mothers, no one was safe, they wouldn’t even be safe from the power of the addiction to the controlled substance. As soon as the addict could get their hands on something of value they would run to the dope dealer in exchange for a small rock so they could smoke their rock out of a glass pipe heated up so hot burning their fingertips and lips just so they could get a ten minute high. The only thing I can truly say and remember is that our community was really safe until crack hit: Until “Zombie Land” came full throttle. During the weekends things would get much worse, we would see the action go around the clock.
Certain lifestyles and lifestyle choices seemed to somehow manifest themselves in the poor neighborhoods first because it would seem like the wild side of people felt more comfortable at expressing and letting go of their own individuality. These would allow most people to automatically feel more accepted and less judged when around certain social types that have less so they don’t have to worry about skepticism.
That is the only reason why they would have felt justified enough to journey all the way across town and down to our side of the tracks just to “score some dope” (those were the words they would use when buying illegal narcotics) or to fulfill their other fetish intentions. They would sit around all day trying to pick up on young willing thirteen or fourteen year old boys to have sexual relations with and pay them twenty dollars with a promise not to say anything while they traveled back across the bridge to their wife and kids for their nightly dinner.
Spiritually, Emotionally and Physically for existence it seemed as if the Television, radio, and media outlets would listen and use glimpses of our way of survival for capital gain, For instance. The way we dressed or our jive talk, our lingo, our slang, our words, Rhythms and catch phrases. Our way of life was considered abnormal for most of White America at this time, but believe it or not after awhile the norms that we would portray in our day to day lives were now starting to make a strong impact on society on an economic level. Looking back it was evident that the media portrayed certain behaviors in our community as negative and unacceptable and on the other hand it was providing financial gain and commercial entertainment.
In the early ‘80s the introduction to drugs had officially begun. Illegal narcotics vastly became a billion dollar industry. At one time the common census stated that there wasn’t a bill in the United States that wasn’t free from drug residue. The money that was being made came from a lot of different areas that funneled right back to our neighborhood and it was all considered blood money. The evil truth in the matter is that it was a necessary economic need to boost our community because it truly generated substantial wealth for a large number in our impoverished community, cycling a lot of money through small business.
Drug dealers started obtaining unrealistic illusion of success, which made the younger generation think twice about going to work hard and do physical labor all day for little to no pay. Some people were able to see how fast and easy the new money making of the drug selling was. The illegal narcotics trade became so lucrative that it started to create unrealistic desires and wants inside its own community that once pride its self on being a tight knit community, filled with strong integrity and strength in morals and values.
The money that was being made was so large that on a grander scale the people that were making the most money had a harder time trying to clean it, (As in making it look legal and legit). When that happened, you started to see extortion rise in small local business. The only way to keep your business safe from extortion was to pay for protection from the same people that would issue the violence if you didn’t pay.
To clean your money was difficult back then unless you had an inside man working somewhere at a bank that normally wasn’t the case because that type of talk was just too risky without having an oath of silence. The drug dealers started imitating what they had seen on television. They would walk around like it was natural, come back and show it off in the neighborhood. A lot of money was dumped into their newly acquired vehicles by upgraded the stereos to add bass that what vibrate the whole inside of your from a block away,
Like any other successful business man they would want to show off their newly acquired success by going on shopping sprees, buying cars, clothes, jewelry and entourages. After awhile the newly acquired norms of our everyday life and life style started affecting the stock market, most importantly adding capital to specialty stores and private small businesses.
Then I think of my mother, I can remember back when I was young and not old enough to work or make an income to help provide for my mother. I could always see the stress in her forehead, the pain and hurt in her heart, body, and mind. She finally would make it home so beat, tired, and half dead after a long day of work. To this day, I don’t truly understand her work ethic.
I do believe that the only thing that helped her survive through the hardest times and longest days was the knowledge and understanding that her children were attended to at all times and that all of their needs and wants were well taken care of. To put the icing on the cake, she would never ask for anything in return. That thought alone gave ambition enough to make most young men say,“ Mom when you get older don’t worry I’m going to take care of you. You know what, I’m going to buy you a house.” Of course that’s when the problems kicked in becau se everyday and all day long we would see and watch how easy it looked selling dope making more money than the police. As they stood around joking and having a good time making money, the young drug dealers lived life free from restriction and gambled and partied all night long.
Lets not forget all the young girls that would watch them intently out of the windows of their bedrooms. They would be