Chapter 1
This is one of those stories that the names of most the people involved or surrounding
the story have been changed. A story about one particular individual amongst a select group of friends, and acquaintances. A story that when I decided to write about it, I had a hard time determining exactly where it should start. See this story happens to be an ongoing saga that continues to return once every 2 to 3 years, give or take. It's a twisted, ghetto cowboy version of Miss Lippy's "The Puppy Who Lost His Way" from the Adam Sandler comedic classic "Billy Madison". The difference being this story isn't a fictional children's tale about a lost puppy with a happy ending, but a true story about a group of friends who at one point all lost their way. The one in this story still has yet to be found...
Now I am almost certain that just about everyone has been in or heard a similar story. The concepts and plots are typically the same. The difference usually being the characters, the setting, the elements and the perspective or
point of view from which the story is being told. To help make my point and generalization, I will give you an example. For me, movies like "Stand By Me", the "Goonies", the "Sandlot" and I will even go as far as "Boyz N Da Hood" and "Mystic River" all carry a similar concept and outline. For the most part a group of friends who shared an experience or experiences.
The "Chunk" or "Vern" of my tale is Brian Stiles. Brian who looks kinda like Bubbles from the Trailer Park Boys grew up in the Firestone Park area of Akron's eastside. He is the younger cousin to Jesse who was one of five including myself that ran the streets of Akron together.
Brian Stiles
I met Brian for the first time in 1995 when he stopped over to my friend Jose's house with his cousin Jesse. Jesse had been staying there along with his uncle Dennis who we called the Tornado. I spent allot of time at Jose's when I was in high school. Jose and I went to the same church, the same school and I even spent the summer of 1996 sleeping in the basement on Jose's couch. Hanging with Jose, crashing on his couch and with Jesse also staying there we would have many nights where the three of us watched wrestling, played 3DO or walked to the corner gas station to get cigarettes.
His Cousin "Ears"
Jesse who we called "Ears" in reference to those reception receiving biscuits he has for ears and a poindexter like nose. Acted like and resembled actor DJ Qualls from movies such as "Road Trip" and "Hustle and Flow". He and I grew close, hanging out, selling and smoking weed. Jesse and I would develop a close bond that would eventually evolve into us breaking into things together. I would drive the car and he would peel the locks .
By the fall of 1995 I had customized my vehicle for the purpose of boosting and we had what seemed to be a pretty lucrative fencing operation going on. We broke into cars and works vans throughout the city selling the merchandise to all the local dope boys and even a few construction companies averaging anywhere from $100 to $400 a night, three to four nights out of the week. We never had to sit on the stuff for very long either, we often had it sold the next day and even taken an order or request a time or two. When school started my senior year staff would remind students to lock their vehicles due to all the theft that had taken place in the area. By the end of 1995 and the beginning of 1996 Jesse and I were besties and I had met 3 of his friends, the Brawler, Ren, and Dave Small Can. That year the 5 of us were down like four flat with no jack. Always together and down for whatever, rainting and causing some kind of ruckus along the way.
Raint - (Verb) a term or word often yelled out the window of a passing car by a select group of teenagers from Garfield High School in the mid to late 90's.
a word used to convey emotion/expression: origin;
joy/happy
excitement/aggression
(noun) a specific place on the inside of oneself: (slang) area or place on the human body
RAINNTTT!!
Every weekend we would try to put together some kind of festivities. Whether it was tripping on acid at Ren's moms house or drinking a case of tall boys at the "Crates" off Kelly. From fencing stolen "goods" as we called it, to car chases, or helping Ren push his microdot. The 5 of us had each others back and were pretty much inseparable come the weekend, and holidays or any other day we could get away with using to kick-it.
It Must Have Been How He Was Raised
Brian was the pudgy stout kid who always wanted to hang out with the five of us but just wasn't quite cool enough to do so. He was the kid with a high and tight fade and pug face who walked around topless with his booby doo hanging out over the top of his jeans and listening to Cash Money. We used to amuse ourselves by offering him a gram or two of weed to punch some random stranger in the face. We tormented his circle of friends allowing him to invite them to our get togethers only to use them for entertainment by beating them up shortly after they arrived. He knew everyone in the neighborhood, or should I say everyone in the neighborhood knew him. They knew him only as the brother to 2 sisters that they would all try to hook-up with at some point or another when we were teenagers. His mom strung out on whatever was hot at the time and always on trash. I mean her idea of punishment is to cut the power cord to the TV with a pair of scissors. His dad who must be in the witness protection program for some big boy stuff that went on in Arizona was usually away at work or out drinking. Needless to say there wasn't much in the line of supervision and guys from the neighborhood on the weekend, would be hanging around the house like stray dogs in heat. Just waiting for the opportunity to knock off one of his sisters.
Brian would do anything to win our acceptance or the acceptance of anyone for that matter. He would even go as far as jacking those he knew by staging a fake robbery when he was asked to get them a bag, and offering us half the spoils. Since Jesse and I had gotten close and with Brian's Shameless like upbringing and a look about him similar to a kid with downs syndrome.
I often found myself being sympathetic to his situation and tried helping him make his own money. I would front him an ounce of weed a time or two, and with every time yielding a zero result. See, Brian always wanted or dreamed of being the Frank Lucas of Firestone Park and his street dream fantasies of being the dope man with a little clientele would always seem to fall short. Especially when it came to the money. Even when the dope was free, he would fall short. His reputation, and actions on the street generated several beefs with others in the neighborhood that I would somehow inherit over the years. He wasn't very well liked and would often use us as scapegoats to his parents when he got caught.
I would never get my money from Brian and I wasn't cool with him coming along with us at night.
The spring of 96 a feud with a crew from Ellet would break out over a pair of shoes that resulted in my girlfriend getting a black eye. I declared war on everyone involved and sought out these individuals. We snatched one out of their grandparents house, Dave Small Can beat another guys eye shut on East Market and it ended with me striking two of them with my car the fall of 96. I would turn myself in, charged with two counts of Felonious Assault with a weapon and two counts of Aggravated Vehicular Assault I was booked into the Summit County Jail for the first time. My parents with the help of my grandma would bond me out pending trial.
Shortly after Jesse and I would be involved in a real bad accident. We were hit so hard that the zipper to his leather jacket sleeve pocket left an indent in my right arm. Jesse had to be cut out of the vehicle fracturing his hip, ribs and skull. With the CD player now in the backseat and a 1/4 pound of weed stuffed down the vents in the dashboard with part of the bag now exposed. I began to pull the bag out trying to hide it so the cops wouldn't notice only to rip it open watching the buds fall to the floor board. I hear someone yell "gas" and began to panic. In shock and flustered I jump out and try to free Jesse from the passenger side. Yanking and tugging the door wouldn't open, Jesse barely conscious moaning in pain. The fire department arrived, determined the leak to be antifreeze brandishing a saw and cut Jesse out of the car. I spent the next week at City hospital.
While out on bond I was also being investigated for credit card fraud by Tallmadge police. It turned out that I was in the hospital from that accident at the time the crime had been committed. I would plea out December of 96 to two counts of Aggravated Vehicular Assault and was sentenced to CBCF for 6 to 9 months with 2 years probation and one year D.O.C suspended. I turned myself in January of 97, and was kicked out of CBCF that March. With my prison sentence imposed and an out date of May 5th 1998. I wouldn't see Brian or the fellas for minute. I was off to an adventure of a lifetime, and a story for another time.
To be continued.......
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