As I kid I was all for the death penalty...

Growing up in Brooklyn the death penalty was no concern of the courts. If someone fucked with your people you took matters into your own hands... Judge and jury, no stay of execution. All of my views on the death penalty changed the summer of 1984. A few weeks before school let out for summer vacation, my favorite cousin blew trial and got hit with a 5 year bid. That left me at the age of 15 with access to all of his guns. There's a old saying in the hood, "Better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it." I've never been a violent person by nature, but I've seen things in my youth that have scared the shit out out of me. I know what people are capable of and if it comes down to your life or mine I'm going to do whatever is necessary to arrange the meeting between you and the Creator. The summer of 1984
started out as a nice one. I was working for a summer youth program and it felt good to have some spending money in my pocket. I remember coming home from work and finding no one home. A few hours later my grandmother and my brother walked in the house. My 12 year old brother's face was bruised badly and he had stitches across the back of his head. He later told me that he and Billy were playing on the roof of an apartment building messing with some one's pigeons. He said the pigeon's owner caught them and beat them up. What kind of sick fuck attacks a 12 year old kid? My blood was boiling. The nigga that put hands on my brother was about to pay in a big way. Later on that night I left the crib with the heater tucked snugly in my pants waist. I went to the apartment building my brother told me it went down at and waited. It wasn't even 10 minutes before I saw my move. Two kids going into the the apartment building with their bikes. They rang the bell and got buzzed right in. I walked right in behind them. I went straight to the roof and waited in ambush. My victim was gonna be easy to spot, since my brother told me he wore a hearing aid. I sat on that roof close to a hour working myself up mentally to do what I felt had to be done, when suddenly the door opened. It was him. I didn't ask any questions. I came from my hiding spot and struck the man from behind with the barrel of the gun. I put everything I had into the blow and watched him drop. Once down, I stomped him savagely. I was like the ghetto version of the Tap Dance Kid. He didn't even try to fight back. Blood was pouring from the back of his head and I could see that his lip had split almost down to his chin. I kept the gun trained on him and asked him one simple question, "You like to beat up kids, huh?" I felt like a wild animal had been let loose inside of me. I placed a knee onto his chest and put the barrel of the gun under his chin. The man began mumbling something over and over. It sounded like he was saying, "Dre's stacked creed." I couldn't understand him and I didn't want to. I struck him with the biscuit a couple of more times for good measure and he yelped out, "Dre's stacked creed, Dre's stacked creed!" This was it. I was about to end a man's life. Tears were pouring down his face and as clearly as possible, for a man in his fucked up condition, he says, "Dre's stacked creed."......My heart stopped. He wasn't saying, "Dre's stacked creed", he was saying, "They attacked me." I removed the gun and he explained to me how he caught my brother and Billy terrorizing his pigeons. He told them to get out of his
building and he wouldn't call the police, but one of them pulled a knife and came at him. The man said he grabbed a board from the pigeon coop and knocked the knife away from one kid and then they both attacked him. He said he kneed one of the kids in the face by accident causing him to fall back into the pigeon coop. A piece of mesh wiring cut into the kids head. The kid that had the knife fled. My brother, head bleeding bolted for the door also. As I looked this man in the eyes I knew he spoke the truth. I left the roof in a sprint, never looking back once. As I went over in my head what had just transpired, I became sick. Physically sick. At the corner of Classon and Monroe I vomited and began to cry. I never mentioned to my brother what happened on that roof that night and it wasn't until many years later that he came clean about the events surrounding his injuries. That night, in the summer of 1984 I had my great epiphany..... ALL LIFE IS PRECIOUS. I'm writing this tonight because I met a nigga earlier today that was sitting on death row. He recently got his sentence reduced to life in prison. And the fucked up thing is at least two people know for a fact that this man is innocent. I just kept imagining the government killing this man and hours later the two witnesses decide to come forward. How would the person (on the government's behalf) that ended that man's life feel, knowing he killed an innocent person?


  1. Amen, dear Mike. Amen.

    Thank you for this post. You know how I feel... that in itself is HUGE.


  2. this is some deep shit i just read

  3. Check it out Mike:

    Capital X. Walk 4 Life = Jeff Woods.

    God Bless.