FOREWORD by Raoul Vehill, Editor
Most of my family live normal middle class lives, raise families, pay taxes and for the most part obey the law. Many of their tales would make good books. I asked my uncle John to write his autobiography in 2004, typed it and did very little editing. This ensured that what made it to print remained true to John's voice. Why ask one of the most notorious of my relatives to tell his story? The answer probably lies in my fascination with the individual who lives outside of society's rules. The reasons that he chose this become somewhat clear in John's narrative. One of the reasons may be that the role of a bandit chose him. He'd grown into an exemplary thief while still a youngster.
John's life and mine intersected. He paroled to my Mom and Dad's when I was a baby. I knew him as I grew up when he was in and out of prison. Upon my return to Denver in 2002 after living in different cities in the US in the 80's and 90's, John, his wife Carol, my brothers and I lived with my Father. A certain level of skullduggery took place, which my Dad, I guess, chose to ignore.
John seemed heroic to me, though obviously an antihero. He angered slowly or rarely, laughed quickly, spoke softly,and struck me as well spoken and well read. His easy gait and sharp eye, rare for a junky, belied the fact that he had suffered, although he brought most of it on himself. If we believe him, for a thief, he lived by a code of honor with less hypocrisy than many normal citizens. John contained, like a lot of us, much self contradiction.
Many of the jobs John did financed his addiction. Some of the time he did them for the challenge. That's what a professional thief does. The biggest paradox seems that though he paid the price for being a criminal, John realized a higher level of self actualization than most. This may be because when one does something with a high degree of risk, especially if it's to see if it can be done, one usually exceeds oneself. Or maybe the phenomenon of compulsion explains his habitual criminality.
After he had finished the hand written draft he told me that he left a lot out. We both did short stretches of incarceration before it ended. The last of it had to be reconstructed mostly from his brother Richard's account. Regrettably, we failed to record many events of John's life. As much as possible though, John tells his own tale.
Chapter 1
I was born on the 24th of June, 1939 on St. John the Baptist's Day, in the San Luis Valley of Colorado. Hitler's armies were poised, ready to pounce on Eastern Europe, in his bid to establish the Third Reich,and thus the Second World War.
My ancestors were from Spain, via Mexico, which, at the latter part of the 15th century was encouraging enterprising people to colonize and settle Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and South Western Colorado. Most of the immigrants were the offspring of political dissidents banished from Spain by Queen Isabel and King Ferdinand when they regained the throne from the Moors in 1412. The Moors had ru1ed Spain 800 years prior to that.
Columbus's quest to circle the earth provided the perfect means to rid Spain of political undesirables. Mexico City was the governing entity in the 17th Century in the Western World. The policy was to colonize and settle the west by innoculating the Indian culture with that of the Spanish explorers. In the 17th century, women of Spain did not accompany the seafarers. Instead of genociding the Indians, the Spaniards Christianized them and had children. Thus was born the Chicano. It would take an entire volume to explain the above, but my roots lie there. Born on the eve of brutal war, raised in a barrio of Monte Vista, Colorado, my parents sold the family property and moved to Denver, Colorado in 1943. I was 4 years old then. When the war ended in 1945, I was enrolled in public school. But I couldn't speak English. That sort of created a problem with all the Anglo kids, and the teachers too. They would speak to me in English and I would answer them in Spanish. In these days, racial discrimination was the norm. White folks thought I was cussing them out whenever I tried to converse with them, So my parents had to pull me out of Public School and were advised that I had to learn English before I could return. My parents enrolled me in Catholic School in the 2nd grade. I learned to speak English passably in a couple of years and was allowed to re-enter Public School. In those two years or so, Catholic School profoundly shaped my moral outlook. I became deeply religious.
At the age of 12, I delivered papers on my bicycle. But I began car prowling, selling the loot to various people. When I was about 13 years old, my sister had a boyfriend. Dube was his name. I thought at the time that he was the baddest dude I had ever known He was a safe-cracker. So I started my career asa burglar. At the beginning of our association, I would seek and find businesses that had safes. I would be his lookout man. We did a half dozen or so jobs, during which I was able to observe how he would crack open the safes. One night, he shot a rival gang member in a dispute, and wound up in jail. He needed money to pay an attorney. So in order to help him, I went out on my own. I was able to help him with his lawyer's fee. Subsequently, he was acquitted by a jury and freed. From that point on, we didn't work together anymore.
I had a small group of buddies with whom I worked, cracking safes. Soon the police learned of my activities and came after me. At the age of 15, I was busted and sent to reform school. I served a one year sentence and was released. I was 16 years old then.
copies of Vato Maldito soon available at enlightened-pyramid
[Edited by Raoul Vehill]
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