Shades of the Moon: Brawls Before Laws

By Eric James

The move from the City to the Suburbs was a huge change, even though I was young when it happened. People in the suburbs were a lot different than the city and we as kids thought it was paradise. Boy were we wrong. Most people in this town are fake, corrupted, selfish, and overall ASSHOLES, in my opinion. A lot of politics I wont get into but you might see some of it.
From the time I turned seventeen, to about twenty two, Ive gone threw some pretty interesting experiences. My life entailed robbing, stealing, fighting, drugs & drug dealing, alcohol, women, kidnapping, sports, and of course fighting. Ive had my ups and downs, arrested eleven times but never locked up, so I guess Im pretty lucky, or have a very good lawyer; just had a few over nighters in a holding cell.
My family is very close and we chill together all the time. Id do anything for them, some not for me, but thats just the way they are. I guess they call me the crazy one, but honestly, every family needs someone like me. From my tales to tell, overall I wouldnt take any of it back. I love my life and how I lived it. I feel my past was lived to the fullest and my crew thugged it out for years. I know that most of the trouble I got into was because of the choices I made, and even then I knew that it was the wrong path to take, but I just didnt care.
While these adventures where happening, I knew my life would be change for the better once I finished school and landed a good set job. Though it seemed like it took forever, I finally did finish school and became full time at the position Id been working at for a few years. That is when my life started. I enjoyed being young and dumb, as they say, but now its time to grow up and become a man.
Ive gone through plenty of friends over the years, some lost due to changes schools or choosing different cliques in school, others lost on bad terms; sometimes I knew why and others I didnt understand. I lost a couple very close best friends and also gained new ones. Life is a struggle, I struggled through it but was able to surpass. I got through the tough times, enjoyed the memorable times, and here are my stories to tell.
This book will deliver my resume of an uncontrolled substance that almost ruined my life. The rage and power I absorbed through fisting a persons face brought happiness to me. Every true street fighter will tell you theyve gotten their ass kicked at least once in their life, and probably didnt like it. I on the other hand loved it. The more I got hit the more aggressive I became, trying to destroy anything in my path. It became so much of an addiction that I looked for it all the time and even threw down with my own brother.
I loved to fight and was pretty good at it but it almost got me killed a few times.
My stories here are all true, but some names may have been altered for confidentiality purposes. In no way am I trying to disrespect anyone, past or present, because its a story about my life but a lot of others are involved as well. Overall, I have been in over fifty legit street fights, mostly in a five year range and these are the main tales. Other than fighting and the mischief Im actually a really nice person and a great athlete. My whole life has been based around sports and my entire family is athletes, including the girls. Though I pursued a sports career I still found myself living the Hip Hop lifestyle, which made me the person I am today. I speak mostly of the bad experiences rather than the good because everyone has their good moments and the awful times are the juiciest.
I give a lot of credit to my parents for putting up with me all these years and I know what theyve done for me and I really do appreciate it. They are the best parents any kid can ever ask for, and to put them through what I did was a horrible thing to do, so Im truly sorry. Like the saying goes, what doesnt kill you only makes you stronger, I guess Im

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 28, 2008
• ISBN: 9781465317483

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Copyright © 2008 by Eric James.

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Contents

DEDICATION

PROLOGUE

INTRODUCTION TO MY WORLD

SUBURBIA LIFE

LIVING IT UP— COLLEGE YEARS

MY SAVIOR

EPILOGUE

SONG LYRICS

DEDICATION

I would like to dedicate this book to my family, who’s always been there for me no matter what happened. My parents, I thank you and apologize at the same time, my brother and sister, we were, are, and will be close as ever. My cousins, Aunts and Uncles, my life wouldn’t be the same without you. Of course, to my grandparents, the head of the family, you’re better than the best. I love you all with all my heart and more. Lastly to my close friends and future wife—we ride and die together. One Luv!

You can’t dwell on the past nor change it, so live in the present to build on the future.

PROLOGUE

To live is to suffer, but to survive, well, that’s to find the meaning in the suffering quote from Earl Simmons.

The move from the City to the Suburbs was a huge change, even though I was young when it happened. People in the suburbs were a lot different than the city and we as kids thought it was paradise. Boy were we wrong. Most people in this town are fake, corrupted, selfish, and overall ASSHOLES, in my opinion. A lot of politics I won’t get into but you might see some of it.

From the time I turned seventeen, to about twenty two, I’ve gone threw some pretty interesting experiences. My life entailed robbing, stealing, fighting, drugs & drug dealing, alcohol, women, kidnapping, and of course fighting. I’ve had my ups and downs, arrested eleven times but never locked up, so I guess I’m pretty lucky, or have a very good lawyer; just had a few over nighters in a holding cell.

My family is very close and we chill together all the time. I’d do anything for them, some not for me, but that’s just the way they are. I guess they call me the crazy one, but honestly, every family needs someone like me. From my tales to tell, overall I wouldn’t take any of it back. I love my life and how I lived it. I feel my past was lived to the fullest and my crew thugged it out for years. I know that most of the trouble I got into was because of the choices I made, and even then I knew that it was the wrong path to take, but I just didn’t care.

I feel there isn’t anyone like me; my mind set is so far advanced than anyone else my age and those younger or older can’t be the way I am. As a kid I loved the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and I still have a TMNT Sewer full of all my action figures. Each turtle has its own unique personality and most people in the world can relate to one or two. I consider myself all four; meaning I have four key components to my personality. Leonardo is the leader, Raphael is a stubborn wise-ass, Michelangelo is the goof ball, and Donatello is the computer geek. I know it’s weird to compare yourself to a Ninja Turtle but it’s more of the personality trait comparison than anything else; though I do have ninja skills. I’m also a unique person with my own style and swag; I like to be different.

This book will deliver my resume of an uncontrolled substance that almost ruined my life. The rage and power I absorbed through fisting a person’s face brought happiness to me. Every true street fighter will tell you they’ve gotten their ass kicked at least once in their life, and probably didn’t like it. I on the other hand loved it. The more I got hit the more aggressive I became, trying to destroy anything in my path. It became so much of an addiction that I looked for it all the time and even threw down with my own brother.

I loved to fight and was pretty good at it but it almost got me killed a few times.

My stories here are all true, but some names may have been altered for confidentiality purposes. In no way am I trying to disrespect anyone, past or present, because it’s a story about my life but a lot of others are involved as well. Overall, I have been in over fifty legit street fights, mostly in a five year range and these are the main tales. Other than fighting and the mischief I’m actually a really nice person and a great athlete. My whole life has been based around sports and my entire family is athletes, including the girls. Though I pursued a sports career I still found myself living the Hip Hop lifestyle, which made me the person I am today. I speak mostly of the bad experiences rather than the good because everyone has their good moments and the awful times are the juiciest.

I give a lot of credit to my parents for putting up with me all these years and I know what they’ve done for me and I really do appreciate it. They are the best parents any kid can ever ask for, and to put them through what I did was a horrible thing to do, so I’m truly sorry. Like the saying goes, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, I guess I’m the strongest person in the world then. Now that I’m am older or beyond my threatening past, I pray to God there is no more Karma my way. Someday I would love a family of my own and I hope I can be as great of parents to my kids as my parents were to me. I always lived by my grandfather’s words to me: Don’t take no shit from nobody. With that said, here is my life.

Life is all about choices. When you cutaway all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It’s your choice how you live your life.

INTRODUCTION TO MY WORLD

Family Heritage

I was born on July 12th, 1983 in Hartford Hospital, in the state of Connecticut. My brother Corey, born less than a year before me, on July 18th, 1982 and my sister Regina, two years after on August 28th, 1985. My parents, Marty and Sallyann, both born and raised in Hartford, married on May 2nd, 1980. My father worked at Aetna, Inc since he was twenty years old, working the night shift for a few years while having me and my brother. He ended up working at Aetna for twenty years, climbing the corporate ladder from hard work and experience alone. I envy my father and have always looked up to him, hoping one day I could be like him. My mother was in and out of many jobs, while taking care of her three kids at home; she’s one tough cookie.

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My mother’s parents, Biagio and Lucy, married since 1950 had five children and a dog named Snooky. First born was Dominick, who married Frances, moved to Cromwell, CT and had three children, but divorcing in 2006; Dominick Jr., born 1980, Michelle born 1982 and Jennifer born in 1984. Uncle Dom and Aunt Frances are both my God Parents. Next was Roseann, who married Richard, moved to Plainville and had two children; Michael born 1983 (five days after me) and Daniel born 1987. Middle child was Michael, married & divorced to Lisa, having three children in Hartford but moved to Windsor, CT; Lindsey born 1984, Michael Jr. born 1985 (aka Little Michael), and Ryan born 1986, whose son Jayden was born on May 2007. Next was my mother, Sallyann and youngest child was Robert. He married Linda, moved to Bristol having two children, then bought a house in Plainville, having their third child; Robert Jr. born 1991, Kevin born 1993, and Justin born 2000. Snooky was a small mutt and lived a full fifteen years, before having to put her to sleep due to old age illnesses.

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My father’s parents, Charles and Dorothy, married but were divorced by 1975, had seven children. The eldest was Sandy, then Carol, Bonnie, Chuck Jr., Roy, my father Marty, and youngest Ricky. My father lost both his parents, at different times and contact with most of his family. He stayed close to his younger brother Ricky, who married and divorced Lori, having two children. Tasha, born 1981, will be married in 2008 and Matthew born 1989, who was tragically killed in an automobile accident on August 18th 2007. Ricky remarried and no longer stays in touch with our family, but Lori and Tasha are still close, and little Matt will live in our hearts.

As children growing up in Hartford, we thought we had it made. Not a care in the world, lots of friends, close to our family and we loved the sporting competition. We lived on Wayland Street which was off of Franklin Avenue, known as little Italy. Being of Sicilian decent our family values are those of a genuine Italian family; we take pride in our heritage and background. For me, there is no better life than one of an Italian and I’m proud to show that. One of the best features of an Italian is the food; my grandmother is the best cook in the world and makes everything from scratch. My mother cooks meals everyday from scratch for our family and the food is truly amazing. Aunt Rose and my three uncles also can cook well and do so for their family too. If my family opened their own restaurant it would be the greatest place in the world, authentic Italian cuisine and a great family atmosphere (maybe someday it will happen).

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My family lived on the top tier of a three family house, owned by my grandparents (on my mothers side), who lived on the second floor. My Uncle Mike’s family lived on the first floor for a couple years, and then moved to a house in Windsor, leaving the first floor empty for a few years. The last two years we lived in that house, the open floor was rented by two older guys, as kids we didn’t understand, but our parents later told us they were a gay couple, we just thought they were weird. Our house had two bedrooms, one for my parents and the other us three kids shared; me and Corey had bunk beds and Regina had her own bed, when she was old enough. We had a kitchen, dining room, one bathroom, living room, TV room and front enclosed porch, plus a back outdoor porch. We even had a secret door that was a staircase to the other two floors. We also had an unfurnished basement that was mainly for storage, but had a ping pong table, dart board and refrigerator. We weren’t allowed to go down there unsupervised, but more importantly we were scared too. My grandfather told us kids never to open the refrigerator because it had worms, that scared the crap out of us and we never opened it.

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I was born a blonde, I mean really blonde like almost white blonde. My cousin Mike was the same way, and Corey had dark black hair. We’d always have butch heads as kids but up until five years old my hair was longer showing my golden hairs. Corey and I also had New York accents, which was weird but then again we were city boys.

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Naylor School

As a toddler, I was sort of a crazy kid; my mother says I was a handful, but still had a sensitive side. As a child and even now, I can tell when something is wrong with a person; I use to tend to my mother when I saw something wrong with her and it would cheer her up. Compared to my brother and sister, who were more the quiet type, I was the cute devil. My mother told me the first day she dropped me off at nursery school, after she was leaving, she turned around to see me climbing the fence to try and leave. In kindergarten I remember getting into some trouble, setting up pranks on other kids; throwing skateboards under their feet as they walked by, making kids eat paste, erasers and crayons, also running hectically knocking over everything in the room. My kindergarten classroom was a portable room in the back schoolyard of Naylor School, which is K-8.

Naylor School was very large and also was in a pretty good neighborhood, only about five minutes from our house. Either my parents or Cousin Tasha’s parents would drop us off, and my mother would pick us up. Our families where real close and we saw a lot of each other. Most of the time, my mother would make two trips to pick up me and Corey, because I would be in detention. I was the type of kid that would do anything to get a laugh. From when I was a kid to even now, my mother always would say to me Think before you do it. The thing is, I would think about it, but not care about the punishment or think I could get away with it, so I’d do it anyways.

First grade, I wasn’t to bad but second grade; let’s just say I got to know my teacher pretty well. Though first grade I didn’t get into as much trouble, I did however have my first kiss, in class, with my friend Kristen. I was very popular in my grade, known as the athlete and class clown, also being a wise ass. I had comebacks for everything and never would shut up about it. I remember my teacher asking me to tie my shoes, I replied back I would if I was wearing shoes, but these are sneakers, and you should know that, so HA! That landing me in detention, as well as me holding up a picture of a walrus telling my teacher they have a photograph of her in the magazine. Detentions at Naylor School weren’t your ordinary detentions, I had to stand up against and facing a wall, looking up staring at a clock until the forty five minutes was up. Everyone knows when you stare at a clock, the time seems to go by very slowly, well I was the guinea pig in that assumption, and yes it does.

First and Second grade wasn’t always full of detentions, I loved going to recess and being able to play with my friends, Corey, and his friends. When we weren’t playing basketball or football in the school yard, we were getting chased by girls or playing burn. During my first grade, as soon as the bell rang for recess, everyone would run outside and Corey would start booking. He would be getting chased by twenty girls and all his friends and I would be the blockers. If they finally caught him, they would kiss him to death and we’d try to pry them off. During my second grade, I was the one getting chased by the girls but didn’t mind the kissing part. Other than the kisses game, our favorite was playing burn, some may know it as speed ball, but it’s a bit different. Whether it was during recess or on days off, getting friends together and walking down to the schoolyard to play and it was intense.

Game play for Burn:

Any number of boys can play, no age limit, and no crying. Need a fairly large brick wall and a racquet ball, or any other type of hard bouncing ball. The person who brought or bought the ball starts the game, throwing it at the brick wall and any person can try to catch it with one hand. If you catch it, you just throw it at the wall and any one can try to catch it again, continuing to throw it at the wall. Now, if you double touch it, or it hits any part of your body without you catching it, then you have to run and touch the wall before another player hits you with the ball. If you get there before getting hit, you continue to play, if not, you get an out, three outs and you leave the game. If you catch it with two hands, that’s a big No-No and you get a free shot. A free shot means you stand up against the wall and one person gets to throw the ball at you, but you get the choice of standing still or moving. If you choose standing still, the thrower stands farther back, but if you choose to move, the thrower is a lot closer. Even though we were young, we still had hard throwing arms, so kids did get hurt, especially if you didn’t like the kid and aim at his face or nuts. END OF RULES.

Throughout my days at Naylor, and all the trouble I’ve gotten into, I luckily was only sent to the principal’s office three times. Our principal was a great guy in the community and knew my family well; he was friends with my grandfather and also my father’s elementary school principal. As a student though, if you got in trouble, you feared him more than your parents.

One day, my best friend Mark and I got in trouble, not sure what for, but it was pretty bad. We were sent to the principal’s office together, but had to speak with him one at a time. Mark went in first and I heard the principal screaming at him, the door opens and Mark runs out crying. I’m devastated and scared; sitting in the waiting room looking into his office with him leaned over his desk with veins coming out his head. He tells me to enter and sit down, I do slowly. After him, tearing me a new asshole, he tells me to stick my hands out over the desk, which I do cautiously but it didn’t matter, he swiped down at my hands with the largest ruler I’ve ever seen, cracking my hands and knuckles three times. The shock of what was happening hurt more than the actual ruler and I never shed a tear, but had a look of fear in my eyes. My friend Mark didn’t get hit, I thought it was because he was crying the whole time, but it was because he blamed the whole thing on me, saying I made him go along with it. I took the blame and the pain, and never mentioned it again.

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That Christmas, during second grade, I was elected for the Festival of Lights. Only one student from first to fifth, and sixth to eighth grades across Hartford County gets elected. The principal picked me, no idea how or why, but he picked me. I mean, besides all the trouble I got in, I was still a good student, all straight A’s and work seemed to be easy to me. So the Festival of Lights was held on the roof of the Constitution Plaza building, where we got to meet the Mayor and announce our name and age, me being the youngest student there, to everyone watching below. It was a great accomplishment and meant a lot to me.

Naylor School had a lot of community events going on throughout the school years. We had many parades, where we marched and sang songs around town. Many guest speakers to talk about the community and the City of Hartford. We also celebrated Flag Day, June 14th, where each class section marched with a different state/country flag, even though no kid had any clue what Flag Day was about.

Outside of school I’d get into trouble with whomever; parents, grandparents, or aunts and uncles. A lot of the time when they baby sat us, after getting yelled at, I would yell back and try to runaway. I’d go down the street so they couldn’t see me, sometimes for a few minutes to cool off and sometimes for about an hour. If I got in trouble at a cousins house during a family event, after getting smacked around, my mother would put me in someone’s bedroom, by myself with the lights off. As I got older I always thought why I did stupid things, but I guess it was part of who I am; I do feel bad for all the crap I put my family in, but hey, I was a kid.

The Rec Center

Some days after school, when our parents couldn’t pick us up, we would walk down the street to the Rec Center. Most of the time it was just me and Corey, but our friends came sometimes. The Rec Center is where me and Corey learned our hustle, whether it be pool, bumper pool, ping pong, or foul shooting. Bobby A ran the Rec Center and he was like our second father. He knew my whole family and was a very close friend, so he took us in. My brother was the best pool and bumper pool player ever to go to the Rec Center, no matter on the age. We went there from age six to nine and dominated anyone in our path. The only person we couldn’t beat was Bobby, but one day his reign was over, when Corey put him to shame in bumper pool. Bobby sometimes set up games, or hustles for us, taking on older men for some small cash. We would get fifty percent of the cut if won, which was 90% of the time.

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We also played summer ball at the Rec Center, outdoors, and dominated as well. Me being the youngest player in the league and running the point, Corey being younger than most players and one of the best shooters on the court. A neighborhood boy, Curt, who was two years older than Corey, was one of the best basketball players out of Hartford, during our era. He played on one team and Bobby didn’t allow him to play sometimes because it was to easy for him, and not fair to other kids. Our team played his team twice, once with and once without him. We crushed his team without Curt playing, scoring twenty one points, Corey having eight and me having seven points. When Curt did play us, we only lost by two points, low scoring game but us three being top scorers.

The Rec Center also hosted neighborhood fares and contests each summer, having sack, wheel barrel and three legged races, with egg tosses and more, giving out ribbons for the winners. For me and Corey, these small time games were cake. After four years of being apart of the festivities, we each had a cigar box full of ribbons and compared them all the time. Other than competitions, they would have live music, food and even pony rides.

Outside the Rec Center building was the basketball courts, playscape, soccer/football fields, and picnic areas. When our crew headed down there, we would get into some mischief. We’d play tag on the large playscape or climb to the highest part and jump off, either onto the grass or the wooded bridge; some would and some wouldn’t dare, I usually was the first to do it. One day walking around the park with a couple of us just bullshitting around, Corey picks up a glass bottle and decides to throw it at the wooded block fence. Of course with his aim and velocity, it smashes and a piece of glass hits my leg. It landed right under my knee cap, sticking deep into the flesh and gushing with blood. We had no idea what to do, so my friends picked me up, ran into the bathroom to try and stop the bleeding. Corey grabbed a bunch of wet paper towels holding it on the cut but it wouldn’t stop bleeding, and the glass never came out. We wrapped it up with paper towels and duck tape, and after an hour it finally stopped bleeding leaving me with a huge scar and to this day not knowing if the glass came out or not.

The summer before we moved out of Hartford, my school teachers gave me a going away party at the Rec Center. All my school chums were there, baring gifts and tears. We took a lot of pictures that day so I wouldn’t forget my friends, some I still have and some I can’t find. My close friends I’ve never forgot and some days I sit outside, staring at the stars, wondering what they are doing or even what they look like. I wish them all the best and hope they never forgot about me.

City Boys

Our house was perfect for family gatherings and parties. Our backyard had a huge driveway, four car garage, small grassy area with a pear tree, and my grandfather had a beautiful garden. Each garage had a car in them, except for one garage was for storage, where we kept our outdoor toys (bikes, sports accessories, etc). We had three different size basketball hoops, one regular ten foot hoop in the middle, then against the garage on the left was a short small nerf ball hoop, and on the right was a regular size rim but only about six feet high. The driveway was perfect for wiffle ball, which we had some intense family games, having our deck a home run, grandparents deck a triple, and the lower deck a double. My entire family is huge on sports, every child, including girls played, so our family events were all about sports; we played from the time each family arrived, through the night until they had to leave. The grassy side of the house we had horse shoes set up, and played bacci as well. My brother and I planted an apple tree that only lasted a few years, but we had the pear tree in our yard and neighbors had a peach tree hanging into our yard.

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At five years old, I was riding my tricycle around the driveway but fell off it and smashed my head against a sewer grate that we had in the middle of the yard. I was rushed to the hospital by my parents, received seven stitches in my head, and then from what I am told, was running around the hospital going into each room laughing at other patients. After the incident, they paved over the sewer. A few years later at eight years old I cracked my head open again. My father played basketball at Molyan gym, and Corey and I would go with him; sometimes Regina and my cousins Tasha and Matt too. This time it was just me and Corey, we started to play soccer on the other side of the gym where they had concrete cubby holes, looked like fireplaces but weren’t. After the first ten minutes playing, Corey kicked a ball towards the goal and I slide down the court trying to stop it, but twisted around hitting the top of my head on the corner of the cement wall. I started crying, holding my head, lying in the cubby. Corey ran over to check on me and saw all the blood, then called my father over who was pissed that he had to stop the game, but noticed I was injured pretty bad. He rushed me to the hospital to get nine more stitches in my head, and we had to explain ourselves to our mother.

Being a crazy kid I ended up with a lot of scraps, cuts and scars. At two years old I cut myself on a metal radiator piece, right above my lip and under my nose. Also around that time a screen window fell on me and it cut my eye brow, both leaving me with a line scar. Around six years old I burned myself with a pop tart leaving me with what I call my birth mark. I love putting pop tarts in the microwave instead of the toaster and this time when I took it out the jelly inside was bubbling out the top. As soon as I picked it up the tart flipped over on my hand leaving the steaming hot jelly pressed against the top of my hand. I stood there screaming and couldn’t get it off, my father runs over, rips it off and fires it against the wall to tend to me. It burned all the way through my skin leaving me with a permanent burn scar. Throughout my life I have scars for miles; each scar having a really cool story about it too.

My mother was a loving but tough woman; she cooked and cleaned for us everyday, and also worked two jobs. She started off at a small insurance company and worked at the Civic Center, which was a large arena for sporting events, carnival/circus, etc. We loved going to these events, because my mother would give us a huge bag of popcorn, which none of us kids would be able to carry. I also personally met the entire Hartford Whaler’s hockey team, received autograph cards and memorabilia, each year. One time my mother brought me down stairs to watch the changing of the ice, which was pretty cool.

The tough side of my mother mostly came out when I was in trouble. She would even scold me verbally or have to smack or whip me. I’ve been hit with every object possible, from wooden spoons and metal hangars to back hands and croquet sticks. One day playing hide-and-seek with my cousins, I was always the quickest and sneakiest, never liked to get caught, so I ran around to the front of the house to go inside. The first floor front door was locked, nobody lived there at the time, so I grabbed a broom stick, popped a small hole in the screen window, and reached my hand in to open the door. I went through the house to the back yard to home base, but later on my mother saw the hole and came for me. She didn’t have to ask or say anything, she knew it had to be me, so she grabbed anything near here, which happened to be a croquet stick, chased me around the house and beat me senseless. When my mother was too pissed off to smack me around, she called my father in; that wasn’t good. My father didn’t have to know what I did, when my mother said handle it, he did, and when he whipped out the extra large leather belt, I was horrified. My father once tossed me over a pool table, which was across the room and he was sitting down. The phrase this will hurt me more than it will hurt you, was always stated, which was bullshit for me at the time, but I know now that it is true.

My grandfather would take walks with us kids down to the end of the street, to Modern Bakery, who had the best homemade Italian ice ever; their cannolies were to die for too. Franklin Avenue had annual Italian festivals as well, where my parents and grandparents took us to watch from the sidewalk. Hartford was great, so many places to walk to and enjoy life, but as kids we didn’t know about the crime wave coming in.

A few blocks down the street from our neighborhood was a huge park and golf course called Goodwin Park, we called it Goody Park. The park had a nice play scape, basketball courts, swimming pool and a kiddy pool with the mushroom waterfall and shooting waterfall. That pool is where we learned how to swim and had swimming lessons, I moved up to the advanced class right away because I was a natural. During the winter, when it snowed, we went to the golf course part of Goody and went sledding. One day, me, Corey and cousins Dom and Mike were on a tube together sliding down the huge hill right at a couple guys walking back up. By the time they noticed us, it was too late for them and we slammed into them, making them fly in the air into the snow, and our tube kept trucking down the hill.

Family Vacations

Our family went on vacations once or twice a year, depending on our money situation. We went to Cape Cod each year with my grandparents, Aunt Rose’s family and sometimes Uncle Dom’s family. My father drove a blue station wagon, with the backseat that folded down to join the truck area, allowing us kids to lie down during long drives. I would bring my ninja turtle action figures, a drawing pad and a deck of cards for the car ride, but while at the hotel areas I would be caring around a backpack full of toy guns and knives. The army scene was my thing as a kid; I wore my army shorts all the time and was willing to shoot at anything. Us boys were also into collecting sports cards; basketball, baseball and football. We’d get decks of cards for every event like Christmas, birthdays, Easter, etc. We would go nuts when finding our favorite players or any great player’s rookie card. We kept them in our card album books or in cigar boxes, trading each other at times or just looking through idolizing each other’s findings; this was done the most during family vacations when we hung out in the hotel rooms bored. One year my Uncle Rich gave us a large box each of his baseball cards that he collected as a kid; it was a remarkable gift. Hopefully one day these cards will be worth something.

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We’d also go to Mt Tom every summer—it was a small water park that seemed huge as a kid. It had an enormous Wave Pool that was calm for a few minutes then when the bell rang it was time for giant waves; there were some incidents of almost drowning in that guy. There was one tall long water slide, but was split in two for two people to go at once. What us guys did was when the first person went, they’d try and hold on the sides to stop, then the next kid do the same and so on, until we’d get all three to five of us going down at once. It was dangerous but we lived to do it. Years ago they had an alpine slide, I got to go on it once with my father but then they closed it and rebuilt a tube water slide. They also had a small arcade and food court.

My family is really close and even though the five families live in different towns, we still see each other a lot; with that many kids there are many birthday parties to attend. Summer parties were always the best because we got to play outside; winter was good too when there was snow, tackle football with either a pigskin or bleach bottle was fun. We also had Nintendo, which was a huge step up from Atari, and many games.

Techmo Bowl, Super Techmo Bowl, all three Mario Brothers and Mike Tyson’s Punch Out were my favorite games. Every time I got to a new guy in Tyson’s Punch Out I would call my cousin Dom to tell him. We always got to the same guy each time until one day I went all the way to Tyson and it was the greatest moment ever, Dom couldn’t believe it.

One day at Dom’s house, his neighbor came over to play and he said he never got past King Hippo, who was one of the easiest guys. So what Dom and I did was sit on the floor with a blanket over us, we had the player one controller and gave the kid the player two controller. We switched playing the game but the whole time the kid thought he was playing; we beat King Hippo for him and he went nuts. He couldn’t believe that he just won; we continued on and beat a few more guys, then once we got knocked out, the kid was so happy he ran home. The whole way home he was screaming that he beat those guys and me, Corey, and Dom sat there cracking up.

Hartford Sports

My father was a great athlete and taught us everything we know about sports; he also tried to coach us on every team we played on. We played soccer, basketball, baseball, and even flag football. Corey and I played on the same team together throughout our years at Hartford. I was always the youngest person on the team, but was still better than most kids. My number for every sport is twenty two and my brother is twenty three. I was always fascinated with the number twenty two, plus my father always wore that number and even my Uncle Mike; my favorite football player is Emmitt Smith who wore twenty two as well. I would say my brother liked twenty three because of Michael Jordan, his favorite athlete.

The only time I played without Corey was during T-Ball, because he went to the minor leagues. The next year I joined his team in the minors, started second base and he was at short. I hated playing T-Ball because nobody pitched; we had to hit off a stupid tee. I thought that was stupid and way too easy. I averaged at least two homeruns again, and even hit for a homerun cycle one game. We switched positions in the field and I remember spacing out a lot because other plays sucked, but one day it caught up to me. While playing first base and spacing out, the kid at bat ripped a line drive right at my face, it smashed me right in the mouth and basically knocked me out. I definitely learned from that mistake.

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We played indoor and outdoor basketball, during the winter and summer seasons. We always played on regular ten foot hoops, since we were born, and later find out other towns lower the hoop for younger ages, I didn’t understand that. We learned how to play and the rules of the game by five years old. I was the point guard and Corey was the shooting guard, and together we were unstoppable. We were never able to beat my father, together or of course one-on-one, until we grew up. We loved watching sports as well, learning more about the game, and also collected cards. The trophies we earned piled up in our room, from every sport we played. Corey even won the foul shooting contest against older kids; I was too young to do it but very proud and jealous of him.

My father ran a neighborhood flag football game, every weekend during the winter. We got our friends together, picked teams and my father was the automatic quarterback. I followed my father in sports teams, liking the Dallas Cowboys for football; the rest of my family likes the NY Giants. In basketball, my entire family like the Boston Celtics, except Corey, he changed to the Chicago Bulls when Michael Jordan came to the league. In baseball, everyone loves the NY Yankees and that will never change.

SUBURBIA LIFE

The Move

The summer of 1991, after turning eight years old, we moved to a small suburbia town called Plainville, about fifteen miles away from Hartford. My parents had a Raised Ranch house built on a newer dead end street, and my grandparents had theirs built one house down from us, moving on September the same year. Even though we loved the city life, having a large house and living in a town seemed like a step up. Corey and I still shared a room but Regina was able to have her own, which was a lot better than us three in one. The city of Hartford was getting dirty at the time, having a higher crime rate and little Italy was being taken over by blacks and Puerto Ricans. My grandparents were robbed two weeks before moving into their new house, luckily not being home, but it was their third time in a couple years.

Our new neighborhood was wonderful and exciting to live in. Our street had kids older and younger than us, but was close enough to hang out and play with. Our neighborhood also had the Plainville Nature Park and behind it was an airport. Our first summer living in Plainville, we got to know the neighbors a bit and also a few other people that my Cousin Mike’s family knew. Mike’s family lived in Plainville right from my Aunt Rose and Uncle Rich getting married, so now we lived very close. Growing up in Hartford, our families were always close but we didn’t get to see each other everyday. So living in Plainville, it’s like having three mothers and fathers; I was very lucky, at times.

Family parties were the same as always, except now at my house we had a large grass filled backyard to play on. Also, in our backyard we had a huge hill that led to another person’s backyard, on another street. This hill was good for the winter, sledding and playing cliff hanger. Also my parents bought us Sega Genesis one year and again it was a huge step up from Nintendo. We still played the classic games for NES but the graphics on Sega were ridiculous. To this day still, Dom has never beaten me in a sports game on Sega; but we were a nasty team on PGA Tour Golf.

After our first summer living in the new house, in a new town, we had to start school. It was very exciting for us, going to a new school, meeting new people and making friends. This is when my new life started, and takes a turn for the worst, but makes me the person I