My Brother and Oakland's Infamous Drug Kingpin Felix Wayne Mitchell, His Mob and an Oakland True Story

By Keith Allen Lewis Sr.

I made it a point; that I was going to be at the “Opening Statements” for the trial and I was; along with most of everyone’s family members. The Fed’s Opening Statement was long and what I remember most about their statement is they said; “There’s a big difference in these two men; Mr. Lewis and Mr. Mitchell. Mr. Lewis; although he owns a home in the Oakland hills and probably millions of dollars worth of other real estate property and drives a Rolls Royce; you’ll often see Mr. Lewis wearing Levi’s. Mr. Lewis; he isn’t flamboyant as Mr. Mitchell is; Mr. Mitchell is flashy and always wants to be seen.” I thought to myself; “damn; these people sure do be paying attention to things when they have you under surveillance.” Their Opening Statement was long and boring to me but; the jurors all seemed to be taking and making notes to what was being said.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 13, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491827628

Keith Allen Lewis Sr.

He is the youngest of his five siblings...He's African-American.; five feet -seven inches , doesn't smoke nor drink. He graduated from Castlemont and Skyline High Schools and attended some college too. He's the proud parent and grandparent of three sons and seven grandchildren,,,,He openly proclaims to be married to "" The prettiest girl in the whole wide world ; Jeanette/ Khadijah ". Some of his favorite things are : SONGS : I Miss You, Walk on By , I Tried , Be Ever Wonderful , Distant Lover , What's Going On , Baby I'm Yours, Tiger In the Rain, Children Of The Night . MOVIES : Once Upon A Time In America ; Predator , Man On ire, Avatar... BOOKS : THe Holy Quran ; The Holy Bible; Think And Grow Rich ;... CARS : Rolls Royce , Mercedes Benz ; Lamborgini. SPORTS TEAM : THe Oakland Raiders.His personal message to the world is : First and Foremost , that God ; OUR CREATOR IS THE GREATEST ; and that we came from God and our ultimate return is to God. . He's on California;s death row for an unintentional occurrence in which someone whom he called himself protecting and whom he truly , truly loved ; was accidentally ; yet fatally wounded by a gun which was in his possession. His mental faculties were severely impaired by an accidental overdose of his prescribe medication ( Triaval ) ; alcohol ( Cognac ); heroin , cocaine and sleep deprivation...He thought ; and wrongfully so that his Ex-wife had harmed the person whom he called himself protecting ; when in reality ; nothing ; nor any harm had been done to that individual at all... This is why he strongly advocates to his readers to ; not use nor abuse prescribed medication ; alcohol , nor street drugs...He advocate to his readers to do better then us in his book, including himself and to truly love each other.

Book preview

MY BROTHER AND OAKLAND’S

INFAMOUS DRUG KINGPIN

FELIX WAYNE MITCHELL,

HIS MOB AND AN OAKLAND

TRUE STORY

KEITH ALLEN LEWIS SR.

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© 2013 KEITH ALLEN LEWIS SR. All rights reserved.

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Published by AuthorHouse  02/16/2022

ISBN: 978-1-4918-2795-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4918-2762-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013918612

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Contents

Preface

Dedications

1       In The Beginning

2       Young And Making Money

3       The San Antonio Village

4       Selling Drugs

5       My Flashback To Richard And Anthony

6       A Few Things About Felix Mitchell And Myself

7       I’m An Uncle

8       My First Car

9       The Women

10     Felix And I; Living Together

11     Kill George Rowland; And Kevin Too

12     Felix Goes To Jail

13     Nate Buys An Oakland Hills Home

14     Felix Receives Drugs In The County Jail

15     Felix Comes Home; We Live Together

16     Warren; Our Cousin

17     New Clothes For Everyone"

18     Las Vegas; The Stylistics And Leo"

19     Sly Nae And Big Moe

20     Night Life; Street Life

21     Oakland And Berkeley Pimps

22     Felix And I, Buy Different Cars

23     Afterhours And Speakeasy Joints

24     Carolyn; Wylon And Betty

25     Felix And I; Move From 8Th Avenue

26     Felix Organizes His Mob

27     Our Drug Use

28     Gail Of Hayward, California

29     My Emergency Trip To L.a.

30     Back To Oakland

31     Nate’s House Gets Raided

32     Warren’s Fatal Accident

33     One Of A Kind Thunderbird

34     Nate’s And Felix’s Car Wash

35     Mobile Telephones

36     Nate’s Acquisition Of New Real Property

37     Fun City And Mitchell’s Limousine Service

38     My Sons

39     Seigel’s Gun Store

40     Big Roo And Ezzy

41     Fireball

42     Nate’s Las Vegas Birthday Party

43     Fun City; Shots Fired

44     Attempted Murder; Assault With A Deadly Weapon

45     7400 Mac Arthur Boulevard

46     Tracy Fowler

47     Felix’s Nephews And Nieces Shot

48     Scootzie; China White And Persian Heroin

49     Kidnapped In Palo Alto

50     Rogue O.p.d.’S Officer Taylor

51     Lockwood Gardens, The 65Th Ville

52     Burning Benjamins

53     Leo’s At Fun City

54     Little Keith Is Hospitalized

55     The Mob Continues Rolling

56     Oakland’s Prince Of The City"

57     Michael Goes To The Air Force

58     Dewey Calls The O.p.d. On Me

59     Durant And Edward Shoot Up A Church

60     Fun City Closes After Burglary

61     I Chase Officer Taylor; And See Leo In Oakland

62     She’s My Woman Fool

63     Oakland’s Drug War

64     Our Return To Oakland

65     The Two Lives Of Felix Mitchell

66     The Arrests

67     The Trials

Biography Of Author

Preface

I ’d like for my readers to pass along this message to people whom they truly love. Tell them to make much wiser choices than those made by me; my brother; Felix; his MOB and the many people mentioned throughout this book; BE IT GOD’S WILL (B.I.G.W).

Also that our society has many; many tricks and traps; set out throughout America; designed to send as many of our children; grandchildren; relatives and those whom we love to prisons. Those whom aren’t paying attention; whom aren’t getting good educations; and those whom wrongfully think obtaining fast criminal money is cool. I say to you that; it’s not cool at all.

Our actions of selling drugs; crashing cars; stealing cars and of obtaining bank money, are not to be glorified in the least sense. As all of these are criminal acts, and I pray that my readers do not encourage any of these criminal acts; as none of them are to be glorified; B.I.G.W. And don’t use; nor abuse drugs as most people whom are in jails and prisons; their crimes were committed when their mental faculties were impaired by drugs or alcohol.

The wiser; are teaching their children; grandchildren; relatives and those whom they truly love; to get good educations; to be doctors or lawyers; to play some kind of sports that they like or in the least; to work for a correction department because; people are going to always be on their way to prisons. This they know because all across America, they’re closing schools and building prisons. And it doesn’t take any rocket scientist to figure out just what kind of an outcome these senseless actions will bring about; I’ll tell you; more people going to prisons.

I ask; you tell those whom you truly love; to get good educations; to be lawyers or doctors; to learn sports that they really like; to be productive contributing citizens in our society; to punch a clock to obtain money or in the least; get a job working for a corrections department, because the pay, benefits and retirements are good, and most importantly; people are going to always be going to prisons. There will always be those, who senselessly chase the fast criminal dollars; which most times have serious adverse effects and endings for them; and for everyone associated with them; and for those whom they love too.

So be wiser, and make much wiser choices in your lives; than those whom you read about in this book; B.I.G.W.

Dedications

T his book is dedicated to my mother Earline Lewis; my w ife Jeanette/Khadijah; L.A.L; Thede; V.C.; Francis La Vonne; SlyNae; D ennis (Johnny Salami) Allen*; my grandfather Alfred Nelson*; my grandmothers Anna Ratliff-Nelson*; and Annie Pearl Nelson*; mother-in-law Louanna Monroe*; brother Nathan Charles Lewis (Big Lew/Nate)*; Felix Wayne Mitchell (Fee)*; cousins Warren* and Durant*; great-niece Jamilla (Milla-Milla) Porter*; Roosevelt Dozier*; Betty Easley*; Ruth Easley*; Rosina Hill*; our children; grandchildren; greats; families; relatives; few true friends; and to all of those whom have lost their lives to senseless murders; past; present and future, in Oakland; California’s mean; relentless streets and in all the other inner city streets across America. My prayer, is for these senseless murders to cease; for adults to teach their siblings; their children; grandchildren; relatives and true friends; to obtain good educations; and to be aware; fully aware of the numerous tricks and traps purposefully set out in our inner cities; to send as many of them to prisons; those of them whom aren’t paying attention to the big picture; B.I.G.W. We must clearly communicate with our younger generations; guide them to the straight path; which doesn’t lead them into prisons; B.I.G.W. We must be; and set good examples; and send forward; positive messages to our younger generations whom are upcoming; B.I.G.W.—

*Peace and Blessings from GOD be upon them; and may they all REST IN PEACE; B.I.G.W.*

Chapter 1

IN THE BEGINNING

T his is a true story, about Oakland’s Kaboozoe Brothers; Oakland’s rich and most infamous drug kingpin Felix Wayne Mitchell, and his vicious 69 th Village Mob.

This true story covers decades and decades of young black children growing up poor in Oakland’s deadly drug infested mean streets.

Many of the names of Felix Mitchell’s 69th Village MOB members and others; have either not been mentioned and or have been changed; to possibly protect the innocent and or possibly the guilty.

You maybe asking yourself, by chance you’re familiar with Oakland; what’s a Kaboozoe Brother or who are the Kaboozoe Brothers; as you’ve probably never heard of the terminology Kaboozoe Brothers before.

To answer that question; the Kaboozoe Brothers are many; albeit initially only three, but increased to possibly twenty or maybe even twenty-five. There are many people mentioned in this book; who are Kaboozoe Brothers; yet to this day didn’t know they were Kaboozoe Brothers.

The difference between a Kaboozoe Brother and a 69th Village MOB member is; Kaboozoe Brothers know that; another Kaboozoe Brother would never betray anyone. Whereas over the years; we all came to bear witness to a few 69th Village MOB members betraying other 69th Village MOB members. Some 69th Village MOB members betrayed my brother; betrayed Felix Mitchell; and even betrayed several Kaboozoe Brothers, both knowingly and unknowingly.

There are many major players in this true story so; you’re going to have to really pay attention; to grasp this true story about one of Oakland’s richest and most infamous drug kingpins and his notorious and unrelenting M.O.B..

For the most part; M.O.B.; is basically a synonym meaning Money Over Broads. Many of the major players are now deceased; yet some aren’t.

The story begins in the early 1960’s in West Oakland; where I was born. The story’s long and complicated; and needs your undivided attention to comprehend the complexity of it all.

The major players are Nathan Charles Lewis (Big Lew or Nate), my oldest brother; Felix Wayne Mitchell (Fee); Warren; Barry; Sly Naye, Big Moe; Big Roo; Roose T., Gene; Seymour, De Elegance; Mr. Rozales, Mark E.; Mike E.; Fonzoe; Herman; Ricky S.; Keith S.; Bruce E.; Craig E.; Big Hank; Tony B.; Neo and the LVTs (Las Vegas Thugs), my brother Michael, my twin; and me Keith Allen Lewis Sr. (Little Lew or Pachino).

For the most part; all of the above-mentioned names are Kaboozoe Brothers; some knowingly and others unknowingly. It can be said; and it’s a fact that, many 69th Village MOB members were/are Kaboozoe Brothers but; until they read this, they had no idea that; they were and are in fact; Kaboozoe Brothers.

I’m Little Lew (Pachino), a Kaboozoe Brother; although I didn’t realize that I was a Kaboozoe Brother until later on in life. As a child; a poor child born in and growing up in Oakland; California. I never would’ve nor could I’ve fathomed how my life would be a part of Oakland’s history.

I was born in West Oakland on March 27; 1956; and as a young child, I remember Oakland; as being a peaceful and pleasant place to live. I was born in the Cypress Village, and I can recall its green grass; picket fences; massive Oak Trees with infestations of caterpillars and mounds of fertilizer that would be dumped in various spots throughout Cypress Village for residents to put on their front and backyard lawns. Oakland was peaceful and pleasant; although I know now that; the same things that went on in my teenage and early adulthood years; were in fact occuring in Oakland; even as when I was a child.

I can remember; walking down the streets with my mother; when all of a sudden; there was shaking and I could barely keep my balance on my feet. My mother said: that was an earthquake. And; over the years as a child; I can recall many of those moments; of walking down the streets; and earthquakes would nearly knock me off of my feet.

Candy those days in the 1960’s; were five cents for candy bars; and there were so many penny candies, that you couldn’t count all of them. Soda pops were ten cents; life was fun; children and parents for the most part; were all happy.

As children; we’d make sling-shots out of branches torn from trees; or from our parents metal clothes hangers; and we’d go around shooting out the outdoor lights that were put up all throughout Cypress Village. Me and my young friends were imitating what we saw the older children doing.

I recall one evening; me and my childhood friends Richard Couey and Anthony Abrams, we found some dead catfish wrapped in newspaper in a backyard across from my backyard. Pranksters; we grabbed some of the catfish; went about a half of a block; and slipped three or four of the catfish in an elderly couples’ mall slot that was on their front door. After doing this, we ran off laughing; and laughing over the foolish prank we had just done; life was fun. Being young; we never realized that; the elderly couple; probably cleaned the catfish and ate them; thinking they were an anonymous gift from someone.

Richard and Anthony, were two of my first childhood friends. Richard was actually Anthony’s uncle; Viora; Anthony’s mother; was Richard’s older sister.

I first encountered Felix Mitchell at a very; very young age of about five. The encounter was one that was life changing; and one that I would most definitely remember for the rest of my life.

I was between Seventh and Eighth Streets; on Union Street; that’s where Richard and Anthony lived in a fourplex. Oftentimes; we’d sneak through a cyclone fence on the side of the fourplex; and get soda pops from the rear of a store right there.

Richard; Anthony and I were there; drinking our stolen soda pops, playing games that children played, the year was at least 1961. My father Nathaniel Lewis had died on my fifth birthday; from tuberculosis and agent orange poisoning from the Korean War.

As my two friends Richard; Anthony and I played; Felix Mitchell came over to us and drew a line with chalk on the concrete driveway. Anthony and Richard, both knew this kid Felix, as he was their neighbor, living in one of the apartments in the fourplex in which they themselves lived.

My friends and I thought this was some kind of a new game; as in those days, there were all kinds of chalklines on concrete; where children played all sorts of various childhood games.

After Felix finished drawing the chalkline on the concrete driveway; Felix arranged Anthony and Richard on one side of the chalkline; and arranged me on the other side of the chalkline. As a child who didn’t know Felix; I had no idea that he knew my sister Valerie; nor that he knew who I was; and that my father had recently died.

Felix must’ve been eight or nine years old; and with Anthony and Richard on one side of the chalkline and me on the other side of the chalkline, Felix then said; whoever doesn’t cross over that line and fight, their father is a no good dirty bum.

My knowing that my father had just died; anger filled my little heart; so I ran across that chalkline with my little fists balled up; and I socked Anthony in his stomach and head. Boom; boom; boom; my little balled up fists went up against my friend’s Anthony’s head. I looked around and saw my friend Richard running towards his house; and I ran as fast as I could to catch him; to pound my little balled up fists into his stomach and his head too.

Richard ran up his long staircase with me in pursuit of him. Richard then turned around and swiftly kicked me with his shoe; in my upper lip; and I had had enough, so I went on back home.

It took me a few days to realize that this older kid Felix Mitchell; had tricked me into beating up one of my friends, and into getting kicked in my upper lip by my other friend; all for his stupid entertainment.

As children we all lived in West Oakland at the time, me in the Cypress Village, Richard; Anthony and Felix Mitchell, in a fourplex on Union Street between Seventh and Eighth Streets. None of us knew at the time that, all four of us would later be friends and neighbors in East Oaklands 69th Avenue San Antonio Village, later notoriously known as The 69th Ville or The SNV.

Richard, Anthony, Felix and I, all remained friends for many years to come. Richard; and Anthony, both were undoubtedly Kaboozoe Brothers; and me at my young age; had allowed Felix to trick the Kaboozoe Brother Trait out of me, as I had betrayed my two childhood friends; something I vowed to never do again. As a matter of fact, the phrase Kaboozoe Brother; didn’t and come into existence, for many years to come.

Chapter 2

YOUNG AND MAKING MONEY

E lementary School was fun; me and a few friends found various ways to make ourselves some money. Some of us would oftentimes purchase model airplane and car glue; put the glue into paper bags and then inhale the glue, obtaining cheap highs. Sniffing glue however; was never as much fun as making money. Some of the ways in which we made money were.

The Seven-Up Factory and Company. The Seven-Up Soda Company; was approximately three blocks from the 69th Ville; and on some nights we’d breach their perimeter fences and carry home cases of Seven-Ups; Mug Rootbeers; and various Fanta Soda Pops. Some of the soda pops we’d sell but; at our young ages, we’d oftentimes drink most of what we had stolen. Once the bottles were emptied, we’d take the emptied soda pop bottles to our neighborhood stores and get our deposits for all of our emptied soda pop bottles.

The Bottle Cleaning Company. About eight or nine blocks from the 69th Ville; there was a bottle cleaning company. All nearby stores; big and little stores alike; would bring and or have their emptied soda pop bottles of all sizes; picked up by this bottle cleaning company.

This company purchased; washed and sterilized all soda pop bottles; Coca-Cola; Pepsi; Seven-Up; RC Cola; Fantas; all soda pop bottles probably in the whole bay area were washed and sterilized by this bottle cleaning company

The company boiled and sterilized the various soda pop bottles; then they’d separate all the various bottles into groups for the various soda pop companies to come and retrieve their cleaned sterilized and ready to be refilled soda pop bottles; to be sold over and over again.

Well; after the bottles had been boiled; sterilized and sorted into their proper places; they’d ultimately be put back into cases on crates; where forklifts would place them all outside to dry and waiting to load the crates back on the various company trucks that would be coming to pick them back up. The forklift drivers; never knew that; we’d be hiding and watching their every move. Once we knew they had set down enough crates of bottles; where they’d be taking a break, we’d creep down to where the downloaded crates were with our wagons and fill our wagons stacked as high as we could; with fresh clean empty soda pop bottles. Once our wagons were full; we’d then creep down a creek than ran from Oakland’s Estuary right to and through our homes in the 69th Ville, and this creek was our route home.

From the 69th Ville, we’d set out with our wagons stacked high; filled with our empty clean soda pop bottles; back to Lucky Store, or to our various mom and pop stores to retrieve our deposits for the clean sterilized soda pop bottles we’d stolen from the bottle cleaning company.

The Candy Factory. There was a Candy Factory on Fifty-First Avenue and East 14th Street. At this candy factory; we’d purchase (24) count boxes of Chocolate Mints and (24) count boxes of Peanut Brittle, each (24) count box costs $7.00. We’d then catch the A Bus to San Francisco, going into the various highrise business buildings to sell our Delicious Chocolate Mints and our Delicious Peanut Brittle. We’d sell each box for $1.00, so on each case we sold; we stood to make a profit of $17.00. We all had our rehearsed scripts that; we were from the Oakland Boys Club, trying to earn our way for a trip to Disneyland; and that we’d appreciate it; were they to purchase a few boxes of our DELICIOUS CHOCOLATE MINTS OR DELICIOUS PEANUT BRITTLE. Me; being the smallest of the crew, the people would often say to their fellow employees in their offices; come look; he’s so cute, tell them why you’re that candy baby. So then, I’d ran my rehearsed script about Disneyland on their fellow co-workers; and sell all of them boxes also. I always sold more candy; than all of me and Nate’s friends; and more than Nate too.

My brother and his friends; would always talk about; how I’d sell more candy than them because I was so little, and I’d just laugh at them—We all were making pretty good money however; and Disneyland was the furthest thing in our minds.

The Oakland Coliseum. In or about 1966, The Oakland Coliseum opened; and the Oakland Raiders were alive and kicking. The Coliseum as we called it; was about three blocks from the 69th Ville. We’d go to the nearby Oakland Coliseum; asking for Oakland Raider Tickets to get into the Raider’s games. The tickets were from $3.50 to $7.50; and a $7.50 Ticket; would put you on the FIFTY YARD LINE; right in the middle of the field.

Once we had received a few tickets on one side of the Coliseum; we’d go to the other side of the Coliseum and sell the tickets given to us. We’d then get more tickets on this side; and then go back to the other side and sell those tickets. This; we’d continue doing until after kick-off time. I was always the smallest child so; many of the people would openly give me tickets, and I’d sell the tickets once they’d entered into the Coliseum. Like with the candy; being a small child; was to my advantage.

The older children would purchase tickets below face value and then resale them; making a profit. Whereas with me; all my tickets were given to me for free; so all my money from the tickets I sold; everything was all profit. Sometimes Raider’s Left Guard Gene Upshaw; or Tight-End Billy Cannon; either one of them would also take me into games to; depending upon which one of them I’d see first.

On some Sundays; I’d come home with sixty or seventy dollars in my pockets; and sixty or seventy dollars; was a whole lot of money for a nine or ten year old child in those days.

Fireworks. During the summer breaks from school, we’d go to San Francisco’s Chinatown; and purchase various fireworks from Chinese children. There was a big Village in Chinatown, as there were Villages throughout Oakland. We’d bring our purchased variety of fireworks back to the 69th Ville, and resale them; making good profits.

There were no fireworks legally sold in Oakland so; people would come from all over Oakland to buy our fireworks once the word had spread; about fireworks in the 69th Ville. I’d have a variety of smoke bombs; cherry bombs; sparklers; barrell bombs; bottle rockets; cones; etc.; you name it; I probably had it, all laid out on my display table. And each summer I made a pretty good profit; at times being able to purchase most of my own school clothes.

One summer, when I had all my fireworks displayed on a table on my back porch; and I was throwing firecrackers over the second tier’s railing. Not using enough caution; nor cautious measures, a lit wick from a thrown firecracker inadvertently went into a box containing fifty-seven cherry bombs.

My cousin Albert Lee said: Watch out, and he began to jump over the second tier’s railing. I then heard a hiss and sizzle; and I turned to run but; before I could run Boom; Boom; Boom. I was blown off of my feet into the air; flying into my neighbor’s backdoor, which was about eleven or twelve feet from where I had been standing.

After the explosion, there were bottle rockets flying; smoke bombs smoking; firecrackers popping; it was like a fireworks night, only in the daytime. The massive explosion of fifty-seven cherry bombs; blew open two doors; and I had particles of cherry bombs stuck in my head; face; arms and back. No one was killed; and I had the worst of all wounds; and my hearing was severely impaired for several months to come. A valuable lesson was learned; and I thanked God; that none of my friends or cousin; were neither seriously injured nor killed. I continued selling my fireworks but; with much more caution than before; and not outdoors as I’d once done.

While we were engaged in making money and getting money in petty ways; the money we were making; was good enough for us at our very; very young ages.

Chapter 3

THE SAN ANTONIO VILLAGE

T he San Antonio Village; The Village; and later; The 69 th Ville or SNV. The 69 th Ville; consisted of poor blacks; poor whites and poor Mexicans; and although we were all poor; we all were happy families; and thankful for everything our parents did for us; and in which God blessed our families with or to.

We were like a gumbo of poor families: all like distant third or fourth cousins we were to each other. Throughout the years, we had small misunderstandings but; before the sun went down; everything was forgiven; forgotten and we were back to being friends again; before sunset.

No children from outside of the 69th Ville, had better not mess with any of us though, and by chance any of the outside children; teenagers or adults did; our village families would get together in some way; form or fashion; and go settle things, and most times to our advantage.

Although right next to each other, was the Lockwood Garden’s 65th Avenue Village, and San Antonio’s 69th Village, whenever outsider children; teenagers or adults would mention the phrase; The Village; it was always clear that; they were referring to people who lived in the 69th Village.

The outsiders that lived near the 69th Ville, most of their parents stereotyped everybody who happened to live in housing projects; and thought of themselves to be of a higher class of people, than those who unfortunately lived in housing projects. When all the time; life had just happened to be a little better for them at that particular time.

The outsider children however; went to Lockwood Elementary School; Havenscourt Junior High School; Fremont High School and Castlemont High School, right alongside children from both of the housing projects; and their children all knew the truth of the matter. The children didn’t look at themselves as being any better than any of us, as they knew they had roaches in their homes too, and some of them had more roaches in their homes than many of the families in the two projects. All of us children; we were all friends; we didn’t stereotype one another; nor did we ever look down upon one another.

Oftentimes; the outsider children would call the 69th Ville children to various kinds of competitions; be it wheelie contests, basketball, football or baseball at our neighborhood’s Greenman’s Field, which set behind Lockwood Elementary School and Havenscourt Junior High School.

Most of the time; we’d hold the wheelie contests in the 69th Ville; as it had four corners for us to maneuver our bikes around in the wheelie contests, or we could go straight down a long straightaway, straight out of the 69th Ville.

The 69th Ville consisted of sixteen buildings, fifteen of the buildings were three story buildings; and Building Ten, was the only two story building in the 69th Ville. In the middle of the 69th Ville; there were four buildings; Buildings Thirteen; Fourteen; Fifthteen and Sixteen; all on a solid four corner concrete block, and this four cornered block is where we’d hold most of our wheelie contests.

My bike, was a bike I had assembled myself, after having stolen several bikes. We’d go to Alameda, California neighborhoods, or to the Alameda Carnival, or anywhere else not too far from the 69th Ville; steal bikes; strip the bikes and then divide the bikes’ parts amongst ourselves. Then after we had stolen so many bikes, we’d all eventually would’ve assembled ourselves car own personal bikes.

Mine was a self made five-speed Stingray type bike; with ram handlebars; a banana tuck-n-roll metalflake seat; wheelie bar, three metalflake wheelie bar pads; five-speed stick shift; front and rear fenders with mud-splash guards, front and rear handbrakes; rear whitewall slick tire; headlight; red taillight; front and rear reflectors; two suicide knobs; a horn and a front wheel bumper kit. For a poor kid living in the 69th Ville, my bike was clean and I’d mastered hitting wheelies on it, as did my brother Michael on his larger ten-speed bike; given to him from our older brother Nate.

My brother Michael and I; could both hit wheelies and continue circling all four corners of the 69th Ville; riding our wheelies solely on our rear tires of our bikes. So, when the outsiders would come to the 69th Ville; we’d beat them hands down; one after the another. And; when we’d go to their neighborhood to hold wheelie contests; we’d beat them there too; while their spectators looked on. While performing our wheelies; we could hear their spectators speaking about how good we were; as were some of the outsiders at hitting wheelies but; we’d always win; probably because we’d practice hitting wheelies night and day; day and night at popping wheelies. And our continuous practicing paid off in the end.

Our sport competitions with the outsiders however; turned out more favorable for them most times. Although there were times that the 69th Ville children would win some football; baseball or basketball games, we’d also lose just as many games that we’d win over the outsiders.

Sometimes after Oakland Raiders games, we’d all meet up at Greenman’s Field and play football games in the rain and mud. We enjoyed playing football games in the rain and mud as children; imitating the professional football players we’d recently watched playing football in the rain and mud.

We were all friends, we all went to schools together, and enjoyed being in the company of each other; these were good times for real.

Chapter 4

SELLING DRUGS

A t the time;

Reviews for My Brother and Oakland's Infamous Drug Kingpin Felix Wayne Mitchell, His Mob and an Oakland True Story

[sirrtyger707 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

It was a coo book I read in a week or so could’ve been a little better thought it was going to be words from Felix himself not someone who knew Felix and was around him for the majority of his life but all in all it was good to hear about Oakland in the 70s and the drug trade during those times not to much mentioning if other bay cities besides the peninsula and east bay that’s south of Oakland overall a decent read