Gregory Marshall - Growing Up Gangster

Growing up Gangster

By Gregory Marshall

Houston, Texas * Washington, D.C.

Growing up Gangster 2015 by Gregory Marshall

Brown Girls Publishing, LLC

www.browngirlspublishing.com

ISBN: 9781625176042

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means including electronic, mechanical or photocopying or stored in a retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages to be included in a review.

First Brown Girls Publishing LLC trade printing

Manufactured and Printed in the United States of America

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It is reported as unsold and destroyed to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this stripped book.

Dedication

My best friend Joseph (Jay) Campbell. I think about you every single day, Homie. May God rest your soul. Ill see you when I get there. Delores (Misty) Jackson. My right-hand man Vincent Ridley. Tupac Shakur, thanks for the fun memories. Cousin Barry, Aunt Lena, and Aunt Thelma. You will never be forgotten.

Contents

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, Id like to thank my Lord and Savior, without whom none of this would be possible. Thank you, my Father, for giving me a second chance at life and blessing me with this gift to write. I want to thank Eb Lottimer for discovering me as a writer. Thank you for believing in me, Eb. To my publishers, ReShonda Tate Billingsley and Victoria Christopher Murray. Thank you for taking a chance on me. To my wife of nineteen years, thank you Debbie Pilgram for dealing with all that Ive put you through and for nursing me back from my death bed. To my good friends Robert Manzanilla and his wife, Betty. Thank you for sharing my vision and breathing life into this project. To Lottris and Tressie Clayborne, thank you for opening your home to me and treating me like family. But more importantly, I thank you guys for getting me back into church after thirty years. You guys were there for me at a very critical time in my life. Your home was always filled with love; your living room is where my spiritual transition truly began. Tressie, thank you for giving me my first bible ever. I still have it and I shall forever cherish it. To my childhood friend, Renee Gray, thank you for all that youve done. You came on board and shared my vision. Thank you for helping me manifest my dream into a reality. To my old Comrade, Sanyika (Monster Kody) Shakur. Thank you for being that living example and inspiration in motivating me to follow your path. To my lawyer, Chokwe Lumumba. To my publishing consultant, editor, and mentor Lissa Woodson... you know I adore you. To my editorial consultant, Janice Pernell, you are a wizard of words. To Tyruss (Big Syke) Himes, thanks for all your advice and support. To Myra Thomas, Jason Ludwig, Christian Simmons, John Calhoun, my son Greg Jr., and his mother, Tina Robinson. Id like to thank all the folks from Natchez, Mississippi. You welcomed me back to this beautiful little town and gave me the opportunity to finish writing my book. To Sheriff Chuck Mayfield, Deputy D.A. Ronnie Harper, Officer Thomas Borum, my favorite cousin, Stacey Woods, Avis Norman, Gregory Gaylor, Geniece Cain, Verlene (Madear) Gaylor, Gwen Morris, Roy Woods, Uncle Ernest Woods, Ernest L. Woods, Tiffany Woods, and Leonard Woods.

Id like to give special acknowledgements to Julia (Sugar Baby) Henry. Mama, you are one special woman. Thank you for always being there for me no matter what. You are my true inspiration. You raised me with all the morals and principles that I apply to my everyday life. Thank you for never giving up on me. My Blue-Eyed Angel. Deputy Julius Cotton, thank you for being Gods designated helper. You saved my life on that fateful night of the shooting. None of this would be happening had it not been for you. Pastor Johnny Quinn, thank you for being such a great spiritual leader and advisor. Im so blessed to have you in my life. You and the rest of my church family at St. Paul A.M.E. are the foundation which my new life revolves around. I love you all dearly.

If your hand or foot causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it from you. It is better for you to enter into life lame or maimed, rather than having two hands or two feet, to be cast into the everlasting fire. - Matthew 18: 8

Authors Note

For me, this passage from the Bible sums up my whole life. Getting shot was the best thing that couldve happened to me. I had to die to live. I was living a life that offered me only two options certain death or life in prison. I used to have this nightmare where I had to choose between losing my arm or leg. I always chose my arm. I did lose the use of my right arm, but I wont complain. The words you are reading at this very moment are being tapped out with the use of one index finger on my left hand. I wrote the entire book this way. Thats my gift from God. My life was spared so I would share this living testimony with you. God is still working miracles every day. Im one of them. Ive committed some heavy sins along my journey. No sin is greater than the other. Im asking anyone who Ive hurt to please forgive me. I realized that I was an angry, fatherless child in search of love from a man who would never be there for me. I knew that I would have to forgive him before I could move on. Recently, I reached out to him after eighteen years of silence. Its still a work in progress. There are many messages in my story. Id like to focus on one in particular. If any passage affected you emotionally concerning the fact that one, or both, of your parents were not there for you, why would you in turn do the same thing to your child? Change has to start somewhere. Why not let it start with you?

Prologue

The End of a Turbulent Beginning

November 5, 1996

1:02 a.m.

So this is what it feels like to die...

No amount of training in the streets could ever prepare me for this moment. Gun smoke swirled, lingering inside the car like a bad dream on a good day. The cool air whipping about the car barely brushed against my heated skin. From the passenger seat, I could make out only parts of the dark scenery, which stretched from the heart of Natchez to the murky waters of the Mississippi River.

Id chosen a less populated spot on a deserted country road, believing it was the perfect place to conduct our transaction. The likelihood of being spotted by the police or anyone else was slim. Unfortunately, it also meant that there would be no one who could save me.

Everything was happening so fast, as though the moment the bullets hit my head, someone put time on fast forward and left it there. Death was in the air; I could feel it. Just like I could feel the vibrations from the pager settled between my thighs. I tried to move, but nothing from the neck down responded to my mental commands.

I could speak, though, and so I called out, Jay!

Nothing.

I called my partners name once again.

This time I heard a response, though I couldnt understand him. The sound he made was unlike anything Id heard before the weary sound of a man slipping from life and embracing death.

Jay was trying to tell me something, but he choked on his own blood before he could utter a coherent word. His eyes grew dim and his chest heaved in an attempt at one last breath. He expired before my eyes, and I actually felt his spirit move past me.

Jays death was confirmation: they meant to kill us.

One down. One still breathingbarely.