The streets for my brother included being a member of one of the most notorious black gangs in Los Angeles; the Crips. Formally begun just a few years before I was born, by the mid-70’s it had increased greatly in number and my brother had found a home amongst its ranks of brotherhood. This, more than likely, due to his lack of a positive role model and consistent father-figure that he could look up to and depend upon. Originally known as the Avenue Cribs, the gang’s name had been transformed into the Crips by the time my brother became involved.
A few short years after the Crips were formed, the Bloods had been organized and an all-out rivalry between the two gangs was firmly in place across L.A., Compton and Inglewood; an area of less than 30 square miles.
Between 1978 and 1982, there would be an additional 101 new Black gangs in L.A., with 30,000 active gang members.
It was this environment that had my mother deeply concerned for Chucky. She loved him dearly and wanted him to leave the Crips and get out of the streets. Her biggest fear was that he would either end up in jail or in a grave.
So, she decided to make a change.
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