Articles
Publication: Chicago Sun-Times
Date: December 17, 1992
Author: Lee Bey
Section: NEWS
Edition: LATE SPORTS FINAL
Page: 6
Word Count: 1930
Column: DANTRELL'S LEGACY
WHAT WILL STOP THE KILLING?
By his own admission, David Williams probably gets more care - and discipline
- outside of his Near Northwest Side home than his family usually gives him.
Williams' extended family feeds him, often clothes him and always protects him, he said. If he needs cash, they will give it to him. And his ties to them ensure that he gets an even scarcer commodity on the streets: respect. Williams, 19, said he has been a gang member for six years. He would have a perfect setup if it weren't for two things.
For starters, his "family" is Chicago's second-largest street gang.
And members of rival gangs in his neighborhood would just as soon see him dead.
"But I'm loaded and cocked if it comes to that," said Williams, patting what he claimed to be a gun in the inside pocket of his jacket. "And I'm ready."
What it's all about
Williams is a soldier in the often-violent world of street gangs. It's the same world that killed Dantrell Davis, the first-grader who was murdered by a sniper at Cabrini-Green two months ago.
Dantrell was shot in the head with a high-powered rifle as his mother walked him to school. The gang leader charged in the slaying told police he was aiming at rival gang members.
To get a glimpse of the struggle that grips so many neighborhoods, the Chicago Sun-Times interviewed more than 20 white, black and Hispanic gang members. They were asked about the shootings, the codes and ethics and rules of the street, the drug trafficking, the intimidation, the terror - the lure of it all. In their words.
"The only thing to understand is that it's all about respect and money," said Williams. "People will do what they can to get it. This is what we do - what I do."
Tony Dee, 17, who claims to be a lower-level member of the Vice Lords gang, said of his gang ties: "It's going to sound funny, but a lot of it has to do with love. It's tough in these streets, and (with a gang) you have somebody who has got your back: Somebody saying, `If you harm this brother, we will harm you.' "
And not all of them fit the stereotype as products of poor, fatherless, ghetto homes.
Williams said he comes from a working-class, two-parent home. A 20-year-old former gang member said he had two brothers in college and planned to enroll next year.
Government of the ghetto
There's more to it than brotherly protection, of course.
Through November, there have been 108 gang-related murders, police said. That's the capacity of a packed CTA bus at rush hour - or enough students to fill three public school classrooms.
Police say there are about 50,000 street gang members in Chicago, plus more than 20,000 wannabes and hangers-on. Some commit crimes, ranging from extortion to drug dealing, murder, burglary, car theft.
In their arena, "clout" isn't a brother-in-law in the mayor's office. It's "juice," a reputation won by violence or the potential to do violence. It's what the mob long has dubbed "respect."
And both the gangs and the mob know what gets juice the fastest - a fully-loaded, blue-steel, 9-mm. semiautomatic handgun tucked in your belt.
"(Gangs) are a government that deals with the ghetto," said former gang member Earl King, executive director of No-Dope Express, a drug and gang intervention group based on the South Side. "In that move, the shot-callers are just as real as your mayor, your governor or your alderman."
Tyrone Banks, a 24-year-old gang member from the Far South Side, knows the laws of his government.
"There is a definite rule and order there," he said. "There (are) laws in a so-called gang. You can't fight a (gang) brother. You really can't just come off and shoot somebody without provocation, and everybody in a gang is not allowed to shoot. But people think we're just out here just doing everything." Everywhere and all colors
Gang activity is not limited to the stark high rises of Cabrini-Green and Robert Taylor Homes.
The larger street gangs have areas of control spread across the city. Nearly every neighborhood hosts some gang faction. On the Far West Side, police chased gang members down Race Avenue and Midway Park, past vintage 1920s homes with spawling lawns.
An alleged gang member was shot recently in the Avalon Park neighborhood on the Southeast Side - a neighborhood lined with the same manicured bungalow and Cape Cod homes found in middle-class suburbs.
And gangs are not only the domain of black and Hispanic youths. Police say there are at least eight predominantly white Chicago street gangs: the C-Notes, the Freaks, the Gaylords, the Kenmore Boys, the Popes, the Reapers, the Uptown Rebels and the largest of the groups, the Simon City Royals.
Assyrians have their own gang - the Assyrian Eagles - and there are two major Asian gangs: the Black Eagles and Ghost Shadow.
James, 26, is from the Northwest Side and a member of the Simon City Royals. He said his gang protects the neighborhood from other gangs, particularly black and Hispanic ones.
"You have to protect your neighborhood," he said. "I like to think of us as a first line of defense. They are people coming through here who shouldn't. And we make sure they know they shouldn't."
He said members of the gang carry guns and deal drugs. Police agree, adding robbery and residential burglary to the gang's list of deeds.
`I've sold drugs'
A gang also provides a source of income. Some members are paid varying amounts of cash for selling drugs or for stealing a car to be used in a gang hit.
Rewards also come in the form of material possessions, such as expensive stadium jackets or basketball shoes.
"I've sold (drugs) and have gotten paid," said a 21-year-old South Chicago gang member. "One week not too long ago, I made $2,000. I've made more, and I've made less. Whatever it was, I made more than I would have made at McDonald's."
Julio Matias, a former gang member, is a gang intervention worker at the Logan Square YMCA. He said the drug business isn't that lucrative for lower-echelon members who work the street corners and vestibules.
"They're out there making minimum wage, really," he said.
Stan Wright, leader of the Black Souls gang that operates in the Austin neighborhood on the Far West Side, said sheer economics has forced gang members to deal drugs.
"In the black community, it's a way of life," said Wright. "Nobody has any money. Then you have one guy who has $2 in his pocket, and he gets control of some narcotics. He makes a transaction, and in one or two seconds, that $2 is now $10. What do you think he's going to do next?"
The drugs enter the inner city with the help of the mob, said Jerry Singer, spokesman for the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms office here.
"Some of the gangs have been aligned with organized crime, strictly because of the drug trade," he said. "The Outfit is beginning to understand that money is being made from street drug buys, and the gangs are getting drugs from organized crime." Trigger-happy
They live on a powder keg with a fast-burning fuse. Anything from a stolen car radio to someone groping a gang member's girlfriend has set guns ablaze.
"Last Halloween, one thrown egg kicked off 25 shootings in Logan Square and Humboldt Park," said Matias. "It could be anything, A scratch, graffiti on a wall, anything. The shooter doesn't want his pride hurt."
`Boom, you're dead'
The youngest gang members are called "shorties." Often they are as expendable as pawns in a chess game. They provide insulation and protection for ranking members, who are usually in their 30s and 40s, and often carry out gang killings. They peddle drugs on the street.
They often are the first line of defense in any gang. And they are the easiest to kill.
"It's a wonder more of them don't get killed," said one 20-year-old man who recently left the Latin Kings gang. "You get caught wearing the wrong colors, and `boom,' you're dead. You deal drugs on another gang's turf, you're dead. Someone you once (messed) with sees you later, and `boom,' you're dead. Almost anything, and `boom,' you're dead."
One Gangster Disciple in the Woodlawn neighborhood said he has taken a bullet in his thigh and one in his shoulder in separate incidents during his five years with his gang.
"It's one of those things," he said offhandedly. "He was packing (a gun), I was packing, and it was on from there. The first time I was shot, I was scared, like, `Oh, I'm going to die.' It feels like it's burning when you get shot."
Despite the citywide gang truce called last month by black and Hispanic gangs, the shooting continues. Every gang member talks about peace, but few if any want to give up their weapons.
"I ain't turnin' over no gun to nobody," said Wright, leader of the West Side's Black Souls gang.
Neighborhood relations
Like the crime syndicate, street gangs often look out for the neighborhood needy.
They have paid for funerals, fed the hungry, bankrolled softball teams, thrown neighborhood picnics and ordered criminals tracked down. They even have registered voters and helped in local political campaigns.
Catch a documentary with footage of civil rights leader Martin Luther King marching through Marquette Park. A portion of the contingent of black men protecting him were members of the old Blackstone Rangers gang, the precursor of the El Rukns.
Gang leaders say it's nothing more than civic responsibility, though law enforcement officials see it as an attempt to silence opposition and gain acceptance.
Gang protection even reaches into the prisons.
Wallace "Gator" Bradley, confidante to imprisoned Black Gangster Disciple leader Larry Hoover and an organizer of the current gang truce, said gangs protect their own members in jail.
"You know the reason why Larry Hoover gets so much respect? For those coming through the penitentiary, he makes sure they don't get raped," Bradley said. "He'll make sure they have a dictionary to read. He tells them, `Don't be out in the (prison) yard, come on inside and learn something.' "
`We all make choices'
Antwan, an 18-year-old Gangster Disciple on the South Side, said he has no plans to abandon gang life.
"My mother knows about it," he said. "We talk about it. I have my big brothers and big sisters (in a gang). It's like a big family. When you're down, they help you."
Tony Dee, 17, also is proud of his ties to the Vice Lords gang. And he's a realist.
"Nobody should be fooled," he said. "This can be some dangerous
(stuff) out here. I mean, you can get killed. But you might not. But we all
make choices."
A horse-drawn hearse carried the casket of slain drug dealer Monroe "Money"
Banks in August, 1991, on a long funeral procession through the South Austin
neighborhood on the Far West Side. Banks was a leader in a street gang. See
also related stories page 6-7. CHART; see roll microfilm.
Credit: John H. White