QuoteReplyTopic: Growing Up In The Hood(Hood Stories): BHM Edition Posted: Oct 15 2013 at 5:30pm
Jacked from LSA
The Hood can be a scary, dangerous place full of violence, despair, and Royal Crown hair grease. Still, lots of us who lived there or made frequent visits to see your family not only embraced the hood, but actually got a few laughs while there.
Let's talk about the crazy sh*t we witnessed while hanging out in the projects/trailer park/section 8 rent house and sucking down frozen cups and sunflower seeds. I'll start:
I have a very young family. My mother was a teen mom and she was the oldest of ten kids. Consequently, I have vivid memories of my uncles and aunts in Jr. high, high School, andd their college and clubbin days. I am saying that to say this: they were young and ignorant. Most of them have changed and matured in their later years, but they were hell on wheels in their late teens and twenties. Laugh at them, but don't judge them.
My aunts and uncles all lived around the corner from each other in an area called Park Place in Norfolk, VA. We kids (my two sisters and my cousin)were hanging out at my aunt gail's house for the weekend and my aunt was dating this guy named Reecie who lived in the house beside hers on the left. Reecie and my aunt would get drunk on Wild Irish Rose, thunderbird, or Mad Dog 20/20 and get ta fightin' all the time and this weekend was no different. They got drunk friday night at the cook-out next door (on the right) at ms. Blue Joan's house....yes, her nickname was really Blue Joan. You had to say the whole thing. Not joan, but Blue Joan, on account of her being blue-black in complexion.... and they got to fighting out front. She busted his nose and he blacked her eye.
For whatever reason, this last scrap was the last straw for my aunt and she told reecie that she was gonna get her brother (my uncle ronald) to him up. She drunk dialed my uncle and told him to come kill reecie. I guess my uncle was not trying to hear that bullsh*t at midnight because he hung up about five minutes later. My aunt and reecie argued some more and ended up passing out drunk on the couch. We played out back of Ms. Blue Joan house with her kids until about 3a.m. because that is what kids did at hood cook-outs.
The next day around noon we were playing double dutch out front and my aunt and reecie were sitting on her porch swing chilling like nothing happened. Welp, we see my uncle ronald drive by in his blue Pontiac Grand Am. he lived about four streets up on 28th st. so we were used to seeing him back and forth in the hood. We all waved and called his name. He rode past but then slammed on breaks and reversed hard.
It was about to go down.
He left the car running in middle of the street and made bee line straight towards reecie. reecie tried to jump across the porch railing and make it to his house but he came up short. My uncle beat the dog sh*t out of reecie before he noticed that he had ripped his new Jam short set in the process. he beat his ass some more and then snatched the roll of cash Reecie always kept in the two pair of knee-length athletic socks he wore with his white Diadora sneakers.he kicked reecie in the head and told him if he touched his sister again he would kill him. He then called my aunt a simple bitch and told her don't call his house again after midnight for some old possum sh*t.
Possum sh*t is virginia/N.carolina slang for repetitive, constant bullsh*t.
He gave us kids ten dollars of reecie's money so we could go to the candy lady and get some hot pickles and fish sandwiches. he also gave us a twenty to pay the candy lady's husband, Fat John, the money he owed him from the spades game. We were happy as sh*t.
He peels off and reecie is still laying in the front yard. My aunt then comes off the porch, stands over reecie, and punches him in the face while yelling "I told you my brother was gonna get you, bitch!!". She the helps the Brotha into the house and we did not see them anymore for a few hours. Around 5pm, reecie daddy, who lives three blocks over in Colonial Place, comes over and puts reecie in the car. Apparently, the beating was severe enough to require stitches under his eye and chin so he had to go to the hospital.
That evening everybody, including my uncle ronald, gathered back at Ms. Blue Joan house for another cook-out. My uncle told reecie not to make him him up again, reecie agreed, and they played as partners in the Spades game.
My uncle Gary (RIP) was never all there. He was an angry drunk who collected SSI checks. He was frequently homeless and moved from one relatives house to another, always somewhere different within seven months because folks would get sick of his sh*t and put him out. He later married a woman who was also mentally challenged. She would make her "R"s sound like "V"s.
Me- Hey aunt Magaline. how you doing? Magaline- I doing avight. how you doing, vonica?
She could never say my name right. Anywho, she and my uncle will be talked about in another story.
my uncle was living with my grandfather at the time he started getting SSI. My grandfather is a slippery snake that should never be trusted. Before he became a fanatical jehovah's witness, he would alleycat all around town and had more girlfriends and venereal diseases than a free clinic.
When you apply for SSI you don't get it right away, but it is accruing while you are waiting to be approved. By the time my uncle was approved, he had accrued over $9,000. Well, being that my grandfather was his guardian and payee, he lied to my uncle and told him he was approved for $350 a month with no accrued funds. In reality,, he was approved for $1300.00 a month. My grandfather pocketed the rest. he would give my uncle money for clothes, food and cigarrettes, telling him that the rest was needed for rent and bills. It worked out that my grandfather was getting damn near all my uncles money. Sad sh*t.
Well, those two had a falling out and my uncle came to stay with us, much to my displeasure. I did not mind visiting the hood so long as I could come back to my own environment free from gunsmoke and struggle. Now struggle was living in my home.
My uncle could not read and really did not know how to interpret numbers over the value of..say.. 150. My mother (who is also a snake like her father) went and changed his mailing address to ours so he could get his mail. A letter came in the mail for him and it turned out to be a statement from the Social Security Adminstration. It gave a running total of how much he had been paid up to that month. My mom saw all those zeros and hit the roof. She called my grandfather and cussed his ass out. He offered her $2,000 dollars up front and $300.00 a month to be quiet so long as my uncle was staying with her. My mom went and picked up the two grand and came back home.
...but my mother is a messy bitch, which is why I don't with her.
She waited until my uncle was drunk and angry. We always knew when he was drunk because he would sit and stare off into space, mean-muggin invisible enemies and mumbling about how he ain't taking sh*t from nobody. She brought the letter to my uncle and explained that my grandfather robbed him and that he had $9,000 in cash and over $7,000 in monthly payment that my grandfather kept from him.
I don't think she thought her plan through because my uncle jumped up and flipped over her glass coffee table, shattering it. he started cursing, crying and swinging at the air. He said he was gonna kill my grandfather that night. he grabbed his bike and took off into the night.
My uncle never learned to drive well and took his bike over hundreds of miles including to N. Carolina and back. At this time we lived in Chesapeake near the boarder of Portsmouth. My grandfather also lived in chesapeake but closer to suffolk. It was a 25 minute car right so it would be about two hours on the bike for my uncle to get there. there were no cell phones back then and my grandfather only had one line. It was busy when I tried to call and warn him and after that my mom told me not to touch her damn phone again and to stay out of grown folks business. About a half hour later she put us in the car and we took the long way to my grandfathers house.
She stopped at a pay phone to call my aunt gail and told her it was about to be some sh*t. when we pulled up, my aunt was already waiting out front in her Chevy Corsica. They were just Ki-Ki ing it up . Apparently, they figured that my grandfather deserved every bit of whatever was about to happen. To me, my grandfather was a creepy dude with boundary issues, but not the kind of guy that deserved to get the sh*t kicked out of him in the middle of the street in the comfortable middle class neighborhood where he and my step-grandmother lived. As I got older, that opinion changed.
So we waited for about an hour and a half before we see my uncle rolling around the corner like Debo. he has a half empty case of malt liquor in the bike basket and one in his hand, drinking it while he pedaled. He propped the bike up on my grandfathers mercedes and started beating on the front door and screaming for him to come outside and get *&%^$#@Eed up. we see my grandfather peek out the blinds and then cut all the lights out. That pisses my uncle off more so now he is really wilding out.
"nine thousand dollas!!! You stole motha*&%^$#@Ein nine thousand dollas from me, motha*&%^$#@Ea!! come out here and die motha*&%^$#@Ea!!! Imma put that wig in yo ass motha*&%^$#@Ea!!!
...My grandfather is a vain man and wore an afro toupee for years until the elders at kingdom hall convinced him that god would never want to see him with that dead monkey on his head in paradise. He stopped wearing it about 20 years ago.
The neighbors are now coming out and wondering what is going on. They have known gary since he was about fifteen years old so they knew he was an angry drunk. These were middle class church going black folks and they did not want the white police meddling in their affairs. They tried to calm my uncle down but he was not having it. He started singing to the world about how his father stole from him and how his ass is about to get whooped. One of the neighbors went to kingdom hall with my grandfather and called the elders. These were about eight six foot tall nice looking chocolate older men. Whew, they were fine!! They drove over and demanded that my grandfather open the door.
My grandfather cracks the door two inches and gestures for them to go around to the back door. He almost pulled it off until my uncle stormed the door, knocking over my grandfather in the process. Now, my grandfather was a brawler in his day as well and the Brotha was not old by a long shot. He was only sixteen years older than his oldest child, my mother, and my mother at the time this went down was not even in her thrities yet. My uncle and grandfather were tearing the house up! My uncle managed to get my grandpop in a chokehold and started punching him in the back of the head. My granddad pulled his head out of the crook of my uncles arm, but his toupee paid a heavy price. It went flying towards the front of the door right in front of the people who were staring inside. It was very awkward.
The elders broke it up and my uncle ran out front, picked up one of the bricks that lined my granddad's yard, and smashed it into the windshield of his benz. Now it was my granddads turn to yell all types of motha*&%^$#@Eas and how he was going to kill my bastard uncle. My step-grandmom was crying and cussing about how they were all going to be talked about by everybody and how they would not be able to show their faces anywhere. Then she went over and slapped my uncle. My uncle was crying and screaming about how don't nobody love him and that it is a sin to steal from your kids. The elders calmed everything down and pulled all of us inside after the neighbors left. My mama showed them the letter and they made my granddad admit to stealing. He then told them that my mother had money too but she denied it like a bad check. My retarded uncle was convinced that she would never do him dirty because, after all, she was the one that told him the truth in the first place.
My grandfather had to repent in a private meeting at the kingdom hall in front of all the elders from virginia and north carolina. He also had to pay my uncle back. My mother and uncle got into it about six months later and she put him out. There was a lot of tension after that and we did not go to any family functions for a couple years. I think everyone was mad at my mom and aunt for setting the bullsh*t up in the first place, but my grandfather was really on everyones sh*t list. After a couple years we all met back up at a family reunion and everything went back to normal.
My mom and step dad used to throw card parties and barbecues almost every weekend.
One time while everyone else was in the front room and kitchen, my stepdad, my drunk uncle and our neighbor Mr. Lionel were sitting on the back of Mr. Lionel's truck when some dudes pulled up in a hoopty and asked them for directions to Read. we lived like 2 blocks from read (LOL) but of course my drunk uncle goes up to the car to explain how to get there. The dude on the passenger side pulls out a gun and starts letting off shots. My stepdad rushes under the truck, Mr Lionel runs inside and my uncle just drops and rolls into a fetal position. After the dudes pull off my step dad comes in side screaming "Baby, Baby, I'm shot"
My mom starts freaking out and asked to see the bullet wound and this nicca has a brush burn from rushing under the truck LMFAO
come to find out they popped off something other than bullets because there were no shell casings anywhere.
My first year at private school in Bel Air I had a best friend whose
house I'd been to on a "playdate". Her family was super wealthy so she
had a nanny and maids and lived in Bel Air and all that. Had a fun
playdate (I remember it was the first time I'd ever had gatorade and
sparkling water...I was in 4th grade).
Anyway, she came to my
house for a playdate a bit later. I lived with my mom and sister and
great aunt in a one bedroom (auntie had the bedroom, we slept in the
living room on bunk beds and the couch). We played outside all day
(drank water, she was a bit upset at the lack of gatorade lol but I
showed her how to use her blow pop to flavor it) and then we made
donuts with my mom as a treat (get the cheap canned biscuit roll, make a
hole in the middle, deep fry, and then coat in sugar/cinnamon).
remember my friend told her mom it was the best day she ever had. And
then I ended up being the most popular kid in class because she told
everyone about making donuts and everyone was convinced I was like some
fancy donut mad scientist.
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