Peace-Up VII Generations

Peace-UP

VII

“Generations”

           

It is evident it now time to put into motion the “Who we be” to our communities an up holding the honor of our brotherhoods an even more so the community that we lay “In Trust” in. The first response and the first deterrent to underworld crisis; hate that word, but America is making us into a drama crisis and we allow the weak even our own to go buy the way side, cannon fodder, it’s fashionable to ruin lives through weakness. It is time put the games to an end. It is time to be the shepherds of our communities. It is time we return to the core of our brotherhood and put proper business back into action. It is time we became responsible for our part of poisoning our communities. Yeah I said that. Brothers what happened to the party that used to build communities, not the game that twists them? What happened to good business tactics, and cliental, not “The Game”? We return as brothers in honor to the core of our beliefs, and build again; for the cops, politicians, and our poor neighbors who are too scared to say anything or let their kids play in the streets aren’t going to change the issue. We could change all that. We the XIII could stand side by side like 1966 and finish what we started. We are bound by our decrees to lift our own communities, together as the greatest force the world has ever seen. The honor of brotherhood and for all those brothers up state or buried in this 30 year war demands justice, it is upon us to make sure this senseless lives lost are not in vain. Let not one more generation of our children be cannon fodder, let them live their lives. We own them that.

Peace-UP is

Sonny Barger standing on his motorcycle one day and saying “I’m not stopping anymore for these cops in every state” and saying “Who wants to ride with me?” The first mass biker movement occurs with several clubs returning to California. The cops were powerless right became might. Sonny Barger became the first leader to truly define the ‘Hells Angels” clubs, with the final “Deaths Head” as it is today.

Peace-UP is

 Origins told to me by inner club historian of Hells Angels. “The Booze Fighters were the first. Then they split into two groups the “Pissed off Bastards” being the second. This club changed its name to the “Hell Angels. They were the first, “1%rs”.

Peace-UP is

Huey Newton told his people to educate themselves and forming the Black Panther Party to take care of his own people, and a will and vision that insured in attaining this goal, but knowing it would be oppressed, fighting for the oppressed is noble and deadly.  Black Panthers were the first to provide school lunch program for inner city children. Black Panthers walked the streets at night armed to keep their own community safe, and creating a ten point program to give their community power a constant voice during the 60’s and still remain till today.

Peace-UP is

The Mafia and its driving to make a better community in the Italian ghettos of New York, and then forming the five families to maintain a peaceful working co-existence. The infinite knowledge to reach the American dream creating a ‘Oasis in the Desert”, a legal way to do what they already did. You can believe their children, their families, the community gained strength in the American social system.

Peace-Up is

A tag I put in Red nail polish, followed by a Maltese (Iron) Cross I placed on the front sign of Lane County Courts the very night I wrote the first letter to all the families in 2001. The tag lasted for five years. (It more or less said Peace-up Lane County Courts)

Peace-Up is

 It is my niece’s boy friend who tells me times of his youth when his Mom got into trouble and he was alone. A biker was his savior, he was five, showed up and said; “I’m taking care of this kid now.” My friend tells me how much his presence and help meant as a child during the only memory he has of a troubled youth. (HuuuRaa!!!) It is all the brothers gathering to sell their personal gear in a fund raiser for Elder who needed a heart operation. It is the idea behind the biker toy run. (You should do it a second time in secret, underground, personal. Mob rules.)

Peace-UP is

The two rings; I carry on my hands ring fingers. The other my left passed to me by my girl during the summer of 2004’ when I was given option to prospect for the “Hells Angels”. (It has sun flowers wrapped around it. Sonny was in town, not alone. (Seven shots rang out late one night on Lexington Street in Glenwood. I wonder how far it was heard.) I wear them in respect for the two elders they came from Bergie Senior and in honor of the old ideals, brotherhood, honor, and above all loyalty.

Peace-Up is

The African lions tooth that hangs from my neck from Johannesburg South Africa. (There is a legend of the one voice that brings all the tribes together. It is called the “Power of One”. During the creation of a new country in South Africa the “Gangsters” and rebels put down their guns to feed their people using their network and special skills during the long countries rebirth. They were helped by the musicians to fill the long nights with gatherings and mirth.

 [Mandela was a major instigator, and a rebel before he changed tactics; yeah it got him put in jail for 27 years. Through his voice a people were brought together the needed items sustain a community during South African Apartheid occupation. Until in time the people prevailed and he was set free to become the father of a new country.]

Peace-Up is

The Stellar Sea lions tooth that was given to me by my neighbor and friend (RIP) Hazel Caldwell at the age of 93. The mountain lions tooth given to me, the medicine bag given to me by Klamath Tribe Elders with a message, “Let no harm come to you”, and a request to write Peace-Up V Family (This is what they wanted, but as I said in “Letter from the Grave” attached to Peace-Up Dragon VI movement requires 4 stages. Dragon was the 3^rd stage a necessary purification of those who will take step 4, action.) It is my leather with, every pin on it, gifts from brothers and sisters the last were Calvary, civil war pins.

Peace-Up is

It is one man who I met in Florence 10/31/03 who asked me three questions, and told me his name. A kinsman, for I was kin not a kinsmen, no tat, no patch, a historian, helicopter gunner Vietnam, 13^th.

Q: 1. “Have you ever shot a man?”

A: “No” 

 Q: 2. “Do you vote.”

 A “No” (I have ever since, when I could, and have kept myself educated.)

Q: 3. “If you are the trigger man for Osama Bin Laden, and collect the 25 million bounty who do you give the money to?”

(I thought about this question for a while, the man it came from, and most of all why was this man asking me such a question. There was something deeper in his reasoning, something I did not know, but I knew this was a moral test.)  

A: “To the children.” I replied.

“Whose children” he asked.

“Here at home and the children of America.” I stated.  (I knew as the brother I am, blood money should be used to grow communities.) 

He said “Wrong. You give it to the women and children of Afghanistan.”

Peace-Up is

Me being told all the children of Florence were saying “Peace-up” by a “HA” Mom wearing a 13 on her finger in 2003’, and later to be told by a friend who still lived there after I left, the night the brothers rolled. He said, “After you left man. It became cool to be good and not twisted in the under ground business. You did something to this whole town and changed it.” I was there 13 months.

Peace-UP is

Red for the Blood

White for the ideals

Gold for the money

Black for the mourning

Peace-UP is

The chopper culture, the lower riders, the hip hopers, gangster rappers, the rockers, the skins, the Rainbow family, Better Dayz, Metal heads, heads, helping any kid who has fell through the cracks, it is standing for something, it is a revolution made by a 1% resetting all that has gone wrong, and really who will stop us. They will do the opposite we shall regain the respect of our communities. If we do this, now.

“We can do something good they will never forget.”

Peace-Up is

Starts in America, but is now global. It is the voice of every freedom fighter on every soil fighting and dying to have a better life for his children, so they don’t have to fight when they grow up.

Peace-Up is

The accumulation of  a life time' years of study of social movements, a people, sacrifice and enduring while standing between two great armies with hands rose saying your wrong; a lone voice telling the real truth.

Peace-Up is

The memorial I erected twice to honor the lives lost through, homelessness, and the game. It is the Mayor of Eugene, Kitty Piercy, standing by my side, with just a few friends on a January evening, and listening to the stories. I told stories about names on the memorial turning them into real people, with lives, kids, friends, some respected highly respected and missed on the street Papa’s and Mama’s who taught the old school values to the youth of the street while being interviewed by a reporter from Register Guard. The Memorial and I made the front page City Region in a conservative paper.

Peace-Up is

In every American every community, in every global community that has enough of being suppressed on by its own Corporate Government, and those 1% who have all while others suffer and die here at home or on a distant battle field “fighting some mad buggers war”. The action needs to be to be in our own communities, neighborhoods, and directly impact the betterment of each citizen. My mentor an “Iron Horseman” Michael Stucky (RIP 2005) once said to me, “Lions for lambs, but soon Lion will lay down with Lamb.”  It is that time, Lions.

Peace-Up is

 Rebuilding the pillars makes the whole house strong.

Peace-Up is

 Thor

 I am the voice of the children.  

Jacquie Park Neighborhood Softball Games

An Afro-American man showed up in the park one day his name was Cecil. He wore a Red Sox uniform and cap covering his silvering hair. He brought a bag full of baseballs, gloves bats, and softballs. He got all us kids attention by his amazing ability to throw behind his back really high and far. He would take a baseball, point at a tall tree, and would toss into the air with his left catching it with his right and throw that ball right over the tree behind his back. He would then turn to all of us for he had our attention, and say, “I’m in the Guinness Book of World Records for throwing a baseball the highest behind my back.” This book was a popular book and sold at all the school book fairs. All us kids would respond with “Oooo’s” and “Ahhhh’s”. He got us into batting some days and others he just played some catch with so many kids who wanted to throw like him. I was one of them. Kids were all over the field throwing his baseballs behind there backs. Then he would call us all in and we would put all the gear back. It was him and his appearance in the park that started the community softball games. How? The kids and him and the parents who came to the park on Sundays, at first it was just a Sunday afternoon where the families of the neighborhoods came and BBQ and picnicked. Cecil would show and the kids and parents would be amazed by not just his skills but his ability to communicate with the children. Cecil got together the first game just by saying “Shall we have a game of softball?” and dumped the game gear out of his big canvases bag. Everybody who was there that day including myself grabbed some gear. There weren’t many of us playing at first but soon more and more people came till there wasn’t enough equipment. I remember an older gentleman who had large brown knuckled hands and a brown hat with suspenders who played the whole game in the outfield with no glove. We used what we had that first day.

 The next week we brought our own equipment. Fathers all week long prompted by their sons and the feeling of some of their lost youth dug through attics, garages, and closets looking for old beaten leather gloves, and a few bats of every size to bring to the park. Something began to happen, something big as week after week the neighborhood gathered in the park. Not just the softball game but what it fostered was a community gathering fun and with fun comes familiarity. The parents began talking about all sorts of issues our little park became a place of social awakening, and most important anyone could play. You had to know the rules to play. No throwing bats, no sliding in the field on base, (people were getting knocked down we weren’t pros), and anything down the hill that lined the back field in the air was a double because: 1. It took forever to get the ball back, 2. Sometimes it went into the street. 3. A balls few went into the storm drain. 4. And just way too many home runs.

 I was still little when this started and the kids were the main attraction with the adults joining in. Andre who wound up being the pitcher for our team, he liked to pitch. He would stand not in the pitcher box, but half way up to the batter over home plate. The game was for the kids and he made sure everybody could get a good shot at getting a hit. He had been chosen among all the children to be pitcher and the fact that he was one of the few Afro-American kids in the neighborhood made it special. He was able to connect with all the kids and keep a feeling of being competitive. Not like a parent who would always lob a throw in, but more a fellow player looking for the out. Andre was 12, a gangly youth who had a big smile in contrast to his dark skin and was well liked by all the parents. He was a social ice breaker in the making. I still remember the man who came to bat on this particular Sunday. He was burly man, lots of reddish hair, everywhere, and he stepped to the plate like he meant business. I had seen him on the plate before and he played like he was out to prove something of his athletic ability. Today was no different and he stepped to the plate. The pitch was up and powerful line drive aimed low to be a grounder that would have headed down the hill. It didn’t make it far. It hit Andre, in the balls. He went down and was up in just a second running all around the park, screaming holding himself. The kind of scream that sends chills down your spine. The adults were in full swing after him and finally got him down on the ground by the small swing set. Somebody called an ambulance and another went down to his house to get his mom. What I saw besides the biggest groin shot in my life was a whole neighborhood leap forward together in time of crisis, not their crisis but one of their own in their neighborhood, a black youth. We would continue to meet in the park every Sunday to play softball, but a new rule had been added. ALL pitches had to be done from the pitching box. The murmurs of what had occurred prompted more parents to come to the park to watch their kids play and just in case. It was about three weeks before Andre came back to the park on Sunday. I had seen him a few days before and he was walking okay, and seemed in good cheer. As he entered the softball field a great applause erupted mixed with cheers and everybody stopped playing and ran forth to greet him. A crowd of at least thirty people surrounded him with back pats all around and “Hello’s” mixed with “How are you feeling?” He went to take his position as pitcher again, and tried to stand in the same spot. Everybody was like “No!” We backed him up to the pitcher mound and the game resumed. Andre became a household name. The park elevated to the next level. Crisis brings people together and that’s what happened in our park. Over the years the Sunday softball games would become a true affair with the grill going and all the women getting together to provide snacks and food for all who came. The true power of this social gathering was the neighborhood becoming solidified and lead them to become a force to make a better community in Takoma Park Maryland.