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StreetCreds is a look inside the world of street gangs and the cops that work them.
I worked the street for many years before I entered the Gang Task Force, joining it with the idea that I could rise to the level of violence of any banger I encountered - a really stupid idea.
I wanted to "earn back" the respect of the citizens for the police; I grew up in this city, and I worked its streets the best way I knew how, feeling that I had a firsthand understanding of what the citizens were experiencing.
The increasing frustration at gang crimes, drive bys, robberies, never feeling safe with your kids in your own neighborhood - I wanted to do what I could to make that fear go away.
Once I was inside the task force, though, the reality was a rude awakening for me. The task force was poorly managed and staffed by detectives mostly out for themselves, and the internal politics made success incredibly difficult and almost impossible - almost, but not quite.
Witnessing bad cops, brutal crimes, and realizing the department had been compromised, the cost was much higher for me personally than I anticipated.
I left the unit two years later, severely broken, edgy, and dangerously damaged.
StreetCreds is the story of how all that came to be. Hold on for a reality check
~ Zach Hold on for a reality check
remembered him. I could relate to this also. I told him that the boys refused to see him but that his daughter was on her way down. He was clearly shaken up by this. He said that his kids were all that kept him going in prison; he couldn’t imagine why they wouldn’t see him. He was getting pissed off again, so I had to settle him down and told him that I’d walk his ass out of the school in handcuffs if he didn’t calm down. He still had his daughter on the way down, and at least that was a
the streets of St. Pauls was an offshoot of the original gang in L.A., where they are considered to be the largest and most active of transnational criminal gangs. When I had expressed my disagreement with them regarding their position, I was ridiculed for it. I told Smally about how I’d noticed that gang members were especially susceptible to praise and kindness, tempered with a hard edge. I told him that this was the technique that I used to earn their trust, and I suggested he try it. Jim
“bitch” and “what a fucking pussy.” I looked at the car he referred to and noticed that it was similar to the CVL13 car that had been used in several drive-bys. “So when were you gonna tell me that they might be trying to shoot me?” I asked. He didn’t reply; instead, he just tried to ignore me while he got up from behind the car, then started trying to talk to the laughing gang members again. They would have nothing to do with him, though; his true colors were now exposed. I was pissed off
of the California Gang bangers who had recently moved into the area and were trying to expand on their drug trade. She said that they’d told “Boo” that he wasn’t in California any longer and that he needed to show respect to the “brothers” who were here. She said that Boo had gotten into an argument with Bobby and that Bobby broke a bottle and stabbed him in the head. I had all I needed to go talk to “Boo.” I took the back way through the Emergency Room and went into his room, where I
appeared to me that he’d seen me as well and that he was looking down at something in his hands; it looked like he was manipulating whatever was in his hands while pretending to be unaware of my presence. I started to get pissed off. I thought he had a gun that he was preparing to shoot me with, and if the fucker wanted to shoot me - I was not gonna be ambushed. I told the trainee to pull in front of the car and pull it over. He said, “What”? I said, “Pull the fuck over now, goddamn it!