White Devil. Bob Halloran
were found guilty and sentenced to life in prison. Judge Stephen Neel emphasized the “particularly heinous” nature of the killings and ordered the five life sentences run consecutively without the possibility of parole. Tran laughed out loud as the sentence was read.
Among the credible theories to explain the motive behind the Tyler Street Massacre is that Sky Dragon reached out from Hong Kong and finally exacted his vengeance upon Dai Keung for the disrespect shown to him years earlier, and the others killed were collateral damage. The FBI certainly finds that plausible. Their intelligence indicates Sky Dragon fled to Hong Kong in January of 1989, but that he returned at least twice, once in May of that year, and again in October of 1990. Perhaps not coincidentally, his traveling companion for that second trip back to the United States was Hun Suk. Three months later, Hun Suk shot and killed Dai Keung.
Of further interest to investigators is that Hun Suk, Tran, and Tham all worked for Sky Dragon at one time or another. Now, Hun Suk may have been a loyal soldier under Sky Dragon, or he may have acted alone as he sought to exert power and control of Chinatown’s gambling dens. It wasn’t long after Sky Dragon had left Boston that Hun Suk put together a gang of nearly two hundred men who helped him control Chinatown’s westernmost edge along lower Washington Street. Police believe he paid Sky Dragon tribute money for the right to sell drugs, run gambling dens, and control a small prostitution ring.
Hun Suk and another crime boss, named Wayne Kwong, were vying for sole power of Chinatown, and their fiercest rival was Bai Ming. These were the heads of the three most active and powerful gangs in Boston in the early 1990s. Hun Suk appears to have been Sky Dragon’s choice to take over, but Hun Suk fled from authorities after the Tyler Street Massacre. So, with him out of the picture, only Wayne Kwong stood in Bai Ming’s way of achieving exclusive power in Chinatown.
I’VE BEEN TO a lot more funerals than birthday parties,” John Willis often repeats with a smile.
Surrounded by death, yet so full of life, John suddenly found himself feeling weak and lethargic, and he was urinating a lot. Instead of going to a doctor, he decided it was time for the first vacation of his life. He went to Rock Hill, South Carolina, to visit his uncle.
“I was riding my uncle’s horse, and people going by kept waving,” John recalls fondly. “I went back and told my uncle, ‘Hey, everybody knows your horse.’ He said, ‘That’s just people saying hi.’ I thought it was the greatest thing in the world.”
And then he passed out. He doesn’t know how long he was out, only that when he awoke, there were five doctors staring down at him.
“What’s going on?” John asked groggily.
“We’re trying to figure out why you’re still alive,” one of the doctors explained.
John was not quite twenty years old when he found out the hard way that he’s a type 1 diabetic. When he was taken to the hospital in South Carolina, his blood sugar was 1,680 mg/dL. Non-diabetics tend to fluctuate between 70 and 140 mg/dL. John was supposed to be dead. Instead, he was released from the hospital five days later, and before heading back to Boston, he went to see his father on the nearby Catawba reservation.
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