"So I Started a Gang" Submission #20

I tried starting a gang once. Yes, in Madrid, Iowa. Rough town surrounded by cornfields. A boy has to do what a boy has to do to survive the tough streets of Madrid.

I know, I know… could I have had a more stupid idea? Maybe… but not likely.

Where was this idea born?

My brother, Bill, gave me a book called, “Run Baby Run.” It was the story of a kid named Nicky Cruz from Puerto Rico, who moved to New York City as a child. He grew up on the streets and ended up joining a notorious street gang called the Mau Maus. He eventually worked his way to the top of the gang and the book, very graphically, chronicles every gory detail of his ascension.

Now… the real point of the book is Cruz’s glorious conversion to Christianity under the street ministry of David Wilkerson. Maybe you have heard of the film adaptation of this biography called “The Cross and the Switchblade.” I was totally fascinated with the story up until the conversion part… I’m ashamed to admit today.

I was captivated how this gang terrorized and intimidated everyone they came in contact with. When someone wanted to join the Mau Maus, they had to be “jumped in,” which meant they were beat up by several of the gang members and if they could withstand the punishment, they were in. It all sounded so cool… to a 7^th grader in the great Midwest.

My friend, Ed Burke and I would take turns reading portions of the book out loud. We discussed starting the Madrid Mau Maus. The shed in my backyard would be our meeting place. We would invite only the coolest and the toughest.

Yes… I am laughing and shaking my head as I type.

Mac Cowles, John “Scrounge” Long, Curt Chapman, Kevin Gibbons… these were a few of the initial

invitees. All of them were interested enough to come to our first meeting in the shed. I don’t remember exactly what we talked about. Gang stuff, I guess. Who we were going to intimidate first, maybe. I do remember that we lit some matches. Not sure why. Gang members like fire?

Our first order of business was whether to accept the Lombardi brothers, Scott and Tony, into our elite group. The vote was affirmative but only if they could withstand the gauntlet. One at a time, they had to travel through the members, lined up on two sides, as everyone threw punches and kicks. If they made it through, to

the other end, they were in.

Scott went first and was pummeled from the get go. I remember he fell down and had to crawl to the other end of the shed. I don’t think anyone had the heart to do too much damage and he ended up making it through without any real injury. His eyes were red and watery. He was happy to be done.

As we finished with Scott, our attention turned to his younger brother, Tony. But Tony must have thought better than to offer himself up to the blood thirsty 12-year-olds, because he was nowhere to be found. He must have exited during Scott’s initiation. Smart kid.

As co-Presidents, Ed and I had to wear something that made us stand out. We talked about some sort of leather wrist band but settled on a heavy chain bracelet. Gang leaders must accessorize.

A few days later, Brian “Huffy” Huffstutler got wind of the newly formed gang and was dying to be a part of it. We were at school, on a break after lunch. We stood in front of the three-story school building, near the street.

“What do I have to do, Muns?” Huffy pleaded, “Name it!”

Thinking back to the “jump-in” initiation from the book, I modified the protocol as I told him to turn his head away from me and turn back when I told him to a few seconds later. Huffy obediently turned his head as I slipped my heavy chain bracelet over the knuckles on my right hand.

“Ok Huff, turn around.” I said

He turned his head and before he could focus his eyes, I slugged him on his left cheek as the chain dug into my knuckles, taking the skin with them.

Huffy fell against the tree and slithered down in a squatting position with his face in his hands. He stayed that way for quite some time as a small crowd gathered. Eventually he got up and smiled. A welt in the shape of the chain links protruded from his cheek.

He had taken a shot from all five foot one inch, and 80 pounds of me… and lived to tell the story. Huffy was in.

We never beat anyone up. We never intimidated anyone. Heck, we never even had a second meeting. The Mau Maus disbanded prior to ever wreaking havoc on the scared souls of Madrid, Iowa.

The memories of our gang faded into the mist of time, never to be brought up again… until a couple years later.