I am my Brother’s Keeper
Juveniles Delinquents and troubled Teens are my Business, Society have turned their Back on them.
I am my Brother’s Keeper
Juveniles Delinquents and troubled Teens are my Business, Society have turned their Back on them.

When I started Blogging I Developed a Website called Saving Kids Souls.com I lost the Domain because of my failure to register the Domain Name properly. My intention for the Site was to reach out to Problematic Teens and their Beleaguered Parents, in hope to change the life of just one young person heading down the Road that I traveled during my Turbulent Teen. I started on a self destructive Path before I was fourteen I was a Thrill seeker, at thirteen I tinkered with Explosives by Dismantling Shotgun Shells and re-packaged them for a bigger Bang, Stole Expensive Racehorses and ran them on Blacktop till they were Tenderfooted, they were finished as Racehorses, Victor and I would sneak than back under the cover of darkness.

One day Victor went on a mission without me, he got caught the owner beat him with a Bullwhip shredding his Shirt and his Skin. I saw him running down the street passing my House I called to him, he was a Hair away from being stark staring mad, that cured my Horse Rustling days. Victor came from a good Family, my Mother was a good Christian Woman who tried to instill good values, yet we defied our Parents and chose to be Bad. There were absolutely no reason for us to be clueless Rebels. Just turned fourteen and there are two Teenage Gunmen looking for me for savagely beating their Kid Brother who was two years older than I was. The Gunmen died in a hail of Bullets crashing a Gang Party that I had planned to attend. I viewed their open Caskets with their faces dimpled with Bullets, that cured me from wanting to be a Badass. if we had continued on that path we would have been Dead before twenty one.

I moved away from Victor before my fifteenth Birthday, that was the best thing for both of us, we were each other’s alter ego. That move brought me to a House where all the Children of a Model Family were involved in Drugs. The Twelve years Baby got me smoking weed with him, I was cursed with bad association, can you imagine a twelve and fourteen years old smoking the Best Strains from around the World. You think that’s bad, one year ago in my Neighborhood of Tampa Florida three kids fourteen, fifteen and sixteen lost their lives in a fiery crash at speed over 100MPH after stealing Cars from Lots and playing Tag.

These three kids just brought the numbers up close to fifteen, dead and Buried, Girls included, all in Pinellas County. This Blog is for the Kids of Pinellas County it will be Posted on Facebook. I was once a big Thrill seeker who should have been Dead before fifteen but I had a guardian Angel called Mom, she never gave up on me and that made all the difference in the world to shape the rest of my Life. Her patience with my bad behavior gave me time to wakeup from the Nightmare Life I was living and to realize that Prison Life was for Fools, someone who doesn’t have one live Brain cell in his Head. It isn’t a place where a Vagrant should lay their Head, I would rather sleep under a Bridge in the Dead of Winter instead of a warm Cell with some Man Sodomizing me. If you survive Prison you won’t survive the Diseases passed around in there, if you survive the Diseases found in there, Early Death is inevitable at the hands of your associations.

Having a Rational and figurative mind helps in making the choice of how your Life begins or ends, but as the saying goes “its all mind over matter and if you have no mind it doesn’t matter”. Again with the sayings “its your Life you can make Chicken Salad or Chicken Shit out of it”. My Mother was Sweet and Sour, she gave me a Timeline to turn over a new Leaf or chose a Cot in a Juvenile Detention Center, that’s tough Love to protect Society from me and myself from me. Juvenile Delinquency is of Epidemic proportions in this Country and many places like Venezuela. In America there is hardly a need for Kids to turn to Crime to survive, if their Parents can’t provide for them Welfare steps in.

Places like Venezuela they have bad Economy, no Jobs and no Welfare, the Parents can’t find work the Kids are hungry, so as early as eleven they are inducted into Gang Life, a Refuge from the brutality of Poverty, now they become the Bread Winner. My Mother was a good Provider I had zero reason to become attracted to the Underground lifestyle that I chose, 100% Dead end. They say that Crime doesn’t Pay, Bull, The Lawyers make out like Bandits Judges make three figures Salary to send you away for long portions of your life, The Misdemeanor Fines are enough to Finance a Prison on every Block. I work in a Justice System, with one Misdemeanor I wouldn’t have the Job.

The massive Courthouse Complex a five Hundred Million Dollar Building stands in front of a Billion Dollars Prison Complex. If you can’t afford to buy your way out like OJ did, this is your new Home for a long time. The Walls are Thick with small Windows yet I hear the Screams of Frustration and Abuse. My God I am a Genius for keeping my Nose clean growing up in the Bronx running with the wrong Crowd. This is my Bronx Tale. I would say that 75% of the People I knew at Thaft H.S. on 172nd St, walking Distance to the Streets where the Bronx Tale occurred, are in Prison, on Drugs or Dead. God snatched me from the Belly of the Beast, He gave me the strength to stand Tall. All my life I wondered why he saved me from the Beast and kept me alive.
Today I know why, it’s to tell all you young Brothers and Sisters under Lockdown, that you also can rise above your Bronx Neighborhoods to be where I am now. He kept me alive long enough to collect some of the half a Million in my Social Security Fund, good Health and Strength to still be Working while collecting, Drive Bad Rides and live in an Affluent Community. I never got Rich because I was smart enough to turn down every offers from Drug Lords, one offered me five Thousand a week at twenty one, one offered to front me ten Thousand Dollars of uncut Cocaine monthly, no upfront money. If I stepped on it five times that worked out to fifty Thousand Monthly. The last time I saw my Best friend from High School he was running from the F.B.I. From the Bronx to Compton to Caracas Venezuela, I am telling you Kids its not worth it. Prison is like living in the Belly of the Beast. And so in conclusion let me say to you little Tough Guys out there, you are not Tough until you are Tough enough to see the Light, Tough enough to make changes in your Life, it’s easy to stay stupid all your Life. Frank and Jessie James were Tough Guys. Mark was a Tough Guy, his wife a Sharpshooter shot and killed him at fifty yards claiming it was an Accident, while having an affair with his Brother. Hector was well Built, he crossed three High School Football Players, they beat him to Death with their Fists, when these three Tough Guys were caught they whimpered like little Girls knowing that they were going to Prison for a long time. Aaron Hernandez was a Tough Guy he Shot many People killed one, he was tough to the end when he committed Suicide. Are you Tough enough.

“Teach your Children well and know they Love you”(Neil Young)

Sins of The Fathers
Mona was someone not of this world, someone who possessed Angelic qualities, her propensity for caring led her to the Medical field, Empathy flowed from her Heart to her grateful Patients. Her willingness to embrace fellowship touched me and I will never stop loving her for that, the Skin she lived in paled mine, though the Color of our Soul was one and the same, she treated me like her Brother and that is what that was totally unique about her from the rest of her Family. Mona was a Rare Flower born into a Savage Garden of Haters for a Family, some had colourful and Dubious backgrounds. I met her from working with her two no good Brothers they were young Men who had inherited a Famly’s Legacy of Hate.
Their Uncle was one of my Supervisors, a Hater who was too polite to let his true feelings show. One thing about Haters that I became skilled at was Body Language and overall communication with People of different colors. I will forever be talking about my English Literature Teacher, she told me to always seek to find out what the Author isn’t saying. I took that advice to the next Level into conversations, call me presumptuous but I know what you mean without you saying it outrightly, I guess that’s a form of Prejudice but I had good Teachers. To say she had a Thorny Family History is an understatement of great Proportion.
Story told one of her uncle living in an abusive relationship with his Wife’s Family, one day went off the Deep End, chased his Brother-in-law down Main Street and shot him Dead like one of the Deers he Hunted. Hate is a Pandora’s Box once opened you never know how or what it’s going to manifest into. Sure he had extenuating circumstances but the undercurrent made it easy to carry out the Deed. I am a firm Believer that for every mass Shootings that have occurred over the last thirty years Hate is the underlying current, Mental Illnesses is only part of the Equation. Several Months ago in my Home State of Florida a Kid went to School, shot and Killed seventeen of his Classmates, gingerly exited the Building, went to McDonald’s and bought A Meal.
Whatever the Catalyst that brought the Hate to a Crescendo is of no significance, this young Man was filled with Hate. Mona’s Family Indoctrinated their Children in a Legacy of Hate, she was an Oasis in the Desert she Inherited. Nonetheless she stood Tall and Proud to be a Child of God she carried herself like Mother Teresa and showered all with equal kindness. Her Brothers were Carbon Copies of their parents, they Loved Tupac, not for telling War Stories but for Spattering the N word all over his Lyrics, each time he spat the Word they Salivated, they had a Huge Collection which told me how Rap Music got so big, Haters love to hear the word spoken by the owner.
Ironic that they would invite me to their Home to eat their food and drink their Liquor, as if to Brag to their parents that they found a good one, as in Guess who is coming to Dinner, She was my Favorite Movie Star until one Day on fifty fifth Street she was struggling with a heavy Box up the Stairs to her Townhouse, I called her by Name and asked her if I could help her. She Stereotyped me shuddered with Fear and Repelled my offer to help her. Now here I am reliving the Movie in Mona’s Home the Day before Thanksgiving, having a Beer in the Living Room. It was there that I met her Boyfriend, he was someone that I had met years earlier when he was a Kid in his Father’s Automotive Parts Store.
The Person he had grown into shuddered my Human instincts with Fear, upon the introduction I extended my hand, the Hair on the back of my Neck stood straight like a Cat ready to do Battle. Animals have sences we rarely posses, they perceive Threats and Danger when we don’t. The Automotive Business was good to his Family they Became Well off. Like any other spoiled rotten Rich Kid he plundered his huge Allowances, Crack Cocaine was his Penchant, that was what my instincts picked up on when my naked eyes didn’t. Those same instincts told me he was a Hater, the look he gave me when our Eyes Bounced was that of what are you doing here, you don’t belong. I had seen that Look many times living in the Neighbourhood where the Family’s Business was located.
I was impervious to that Look because of my early Training, Mother always told us that they might Hate you, but they will Respect you for the Job you do and the way you carry yourself. She said whatever job you do be the very best at it, they will Hate you for being the best while loving you for it. Isn’t it ironic I paid huge Rent to be away from Hood Life yet Crack was all around me in an Affluent Neighborhood, all because their Parents Funded their Habits with huge Allowances. Mona’s Boyfriend was the Latest Victim of the Coca Plant that goes back as far as Hernan Cortes1500 AD Conquests. By wanting to Marry into Money she became a victim also. Her Parents were too busy Hating to warn her of the Dangers of selling your Soul for Money. Peer Pressure is a Dangerous Social Disease, from wanting to be with him she did what he did to stay together, what a Tragedy for someone of Her Character to Befall.

When my Kids were in High School we argued a lot about Peer Pressure, she didn’t believe it was as Formidable as I did, but I knew different from watching my Best Friend in High School Plying his Girlfriend to Smoke Weed with us. She was strong, all through H.S. she never took a Drag, she waited till she was Married to him and smoked Crack with Him while she was Pregnant producing three Crack Babies, another Tragedy in my Life that I witnessed including Mona’s. It was getting late Thursday the Eve of Thanksgiving, I said goodbye to Mona and her Family. The weekend passed, watching the News Monday Morning I learned that Mark had beaten Mona badly that Thursday Night over the last Hit of Crack, tied her up Duct Taped her Mouth and left Her in a Closet for three Days Pregnant with His Child, she went Home to Jesus Talking Her Heart of Gold. Absolutely Mind boggling, she survived Her Family’s Legacy of Hate and bad Karma to be Succumbed by Crack Cocaine. Parting Words ” Only the Good Die Young”.

P.S
Sins of the Father or Sins of the Fathers derives from Biblical references (primarily in the books Exodus, Deuteronomy, and Numbers) to the sins (or iniquities) of one generation passing to another. The idea has been conveyed paraphrastically into popular culture.
P.S.P.S.
Niel Young ” You who are on the Road must have a code that you can live by and so let the past be a goodbye”
Music calms the savage Best.