The durham mob, p.34
The Durham Mob, page 34
After seven years, Coy got out of prison. Bonnie was waiting for him. The Feds immediately gave him a new name, David, and some cash and relocated him to Alhambra, California. There, he used his knowledge and talent to become a broker. When millionaires were looking for investments and others were looking for money for their businesses, he was the middle man. He would broker a deal and he got a piece from both parties. He was especially good at getting money for people in construction. People who were building condominiums needed money, and that was usually a good investment. Coy collected money from individuals and contractors. All of his business was done by phone from his small, modest house. He drove an old used Chevrolet with a coat hanger as an antenna; far from the days of Cadillacs. He spent hours on the phone each day trying to connect the lenders with the borrowers. He used the money collected to buy a large screen TV and to impress his new acquaintances. He couldn’t help trying to be a big shot again. Eventually, he didn’t get any borrowers funded and they lost the money they had paid him. They became very angry but they couldn’t do anything about it since he never guaranteed them the loans. He had not broken any laws. This business lasted for two years, and just like a Ponzi scheme, he couldn’t get any more fees to secure funding.
He started another business, trying to get distribution of bottled water. This was the beginning of the bottle water expansion. He got in early, but was not successful.
At a social function with some of his new clients, he let drop that he had taught accounting in college many years before. Usually, he was careful not to mention facts about his past. One of the men present had an administrative position at Pasadena Community College. He was impressed with Coy (David) his new name, and asked if he would like to teach a few classes at the college. In private, Coy had to admit to him that he had been to prison. The administrator assured him that many white-collar crime people make mistakes and are given second chances, and since he was obviously very bright, and had a talent that was very needed, he could help him get the position. Coy, then had to confess that his second prison term was for selling drugs. For those kinds of crimes, ex-cons are not allowed to set foot on a college campus. It was very unfortunate. Had his crime just been for embezzlement, he could have gotten a good position on any number of campuses and could have earned a good living. His life could have been normal after so many years. He had sown his seeds and had to accept the consequences.
William moved to Los Angeles a few years after Coy. He found a nice apartment and settled in. Since he already had a New York teaching license, the state of California granted him a California license, and he immediately began teaching high school. He made new friends and had an active social life. He was doing what he loved doing without the distractions of his brother, whom he had not seen for six years. However, he did miss New York, the city that he had grown to love. He made the adjustments and went on with his life.
After William had been in LA for about six months, Coy called him. Coy had always kept in touch with people who knew William and his movements, and knew exactly when he arrived in LA. Coy got his phone number and address. He called William and before he could hang up the phone, Coy blurted out that their uncle in North Carolina had passed away. William already felt guilty that he had not kept in touch with this man, who had practically raised him and Coy, since there hadn’t been a father present. Coy understood this and played on William’s sympathy. He suggested that they meet to commiserate together. For a while, William forgot that Coy didn’t know how to commiserate about anything.
William met with him and Coy tried to reestablish a relationship. William was having no more. After a few dinners together, William walked away and told Coy never to contact him again. He never saw Coy again.
Shortly after William walked away, Coy called around to some of the homeboys in New York City and found a number for Sid. He called Sid and asked him to come out to visit him. Coy had this strange connection with Sid that no one understood. Sid had screwed up several times about some small things, but most of all, he was the one who brought down the whole gang and the cause of Coy going to prison. Sid had never been to California and liked the idea. He decided he would accept Coy’s invitation. Candy, Sid’s girl-friend, and his other associates could not understand why he would want to quit what he was doing, since he was doing so well. She and Sid had a decent relationship and she wanted him to stay. Numbers’ runners were never arrested and they made good livings and paid no taxes. Just as no one could understand Coy’s attraction for Sid, they could not understand why Sid would leave at this time.
A few weeks after he arrived, he met a white call girl who was hanging around Coy’s apartment. Coy still associated with some people who could make problems for him, but he was still attracted to danger. The call girl called her pimp and was told to meet a wealthy gentleman who was a good distance away, but she didn’t have transportation. She could have taken a taxi, but Sid, who was always trying to screw some new girl, thought that if he could drive her and become her friend, then he would have a source of regular pussy. He asked Coy to borrow his old Chevy so he could drive her and wait for her. Sid didn’t know the LA area well, but Susie, the call girl said she would guide him. She was going to make three hundred dollars. Sid figured he could even get a small piece of that. He took off with her south on the 110 Freeway. Susie forgot the exit, so they pulled off the freeway in Watts to call the pimp from a telephone booth. Susie went into the booth to call and Sid stood outside. Immediately, he was approach by two gang bangers who demanded his watch and gold chain. They were anxious and very nervous. Sid tried to calm them down. He was always a calm guy. When he didn’t surrender his goods fast enough, one of the bangers shot him. Another one of the nervous robbers fired as well. One took off his watch and reached into his pockets. He only had about twenty-five dollars. Another one grabbed the chain from around his neck. Susie began screaming as loudly as she could, but no one could hear her because she was inside the booth. Still, she made the robbers nervous and one pointed a gun directly at her and yelled, “Shut your fucking mouth or I’ll blow your fucking head off.” Susie put one hand over her mouth as the tears rolled down her face. “Take off his leather jacket,” one said and the two of them rolled him over and took off his leather jacket. A man was shot and the robbers netted twenty-five dollars, a gold chain worth about one hundred dollars, a cheap watch and an old leather jacket; all for a life. Sid had the habit of often being in the wrong place. He was shot because his brain was still between his legs. It was inevitable that he would die a violent and unnecessary death. The robbers ran away and Susie gathered herself and called the police. She was so afraid of being a witness or the police looking into her background, so she walked away and took a taxi to her apartment. The police and the paramedics arrived, but it was too late for Sid. He was already dead, and the police had very few clues. This would be another unsolved murder. The police traced the car back to Coy. They questioned him about Sid’s identity since Sid had no identification on his body. Had it not been for the car, it would have taken them a very long time just to identify Sid and to contact his relatives. Sid became the first of “The Durham Mob” to die’
Charles had worn out his welcome in New York and Washington, D.C. so he returned to North Carolina and got a job a bus monitor at a middle school. With all of that education, he was working on a job earning a little over minimum wage. He had gone through close to a half a million dollars. He had neglected his health and gained a hundred pounds. This once svelte young man, who used to dance at the best clubs in New York, could hardly walk. He never took a bar exam and never practiced law.
One day, he called William. “This is Charles, how ya doing?”
“Doing very well, Charles. How you doing?”
“I’m going down to the grocery store and I’m gonna give the man a check and there’s no money in my account. Can you help me?” Without hesitation, William replied, “Give me your bank account number, Charles, and I’ll send you something.” Charles gave him the account number and William went straight to the bank and sent Charles three hundred dollars. He had not forgotten that back when they were all getting money and his own brother wouldn’t share with him, Charles gave him two thousand five hundred dollars a week for more than a month. On three more occasions, William sent Charles money without Charles asking.
Several years after he had left the good life behind, Charles, who had gained 150 pounds, became the third of, “The Durham Mob,” to die, died of a heart attack, completely broke.
Coy spent his last years still trying to broker deals, but all of the brokers on the phones with whom he negotiated had never met him and no longer trusted him. Most of them never got deals funded, but all paid him fees. He could no longer operate in that business. One morning when he was on his way to try another scheme, he passed out and was rushed to a hospital where he lay in a coma for twenty-four hours. He died the next morning. He had no money. His family resorted to calling his hometown asking his old friends and former classmates for money to bury him. Like most of the original gang, he died broke. Coy was the second of “The Durham Mob” to die.
After Bob got out of prison, he was completely broke. He had married Alexandra, the young lady that Lauren had feared a few years earlier and had demanded that Bob stop seeing. He had fathered two children by her. Alexandra had sold his Cadillac while he was in prison because she needed the money for the children. He decided to return to North Carolina to raise his family. He didn’t want to raise his children in New York or New Jersey. He became the fifth of “The Durham Mob” to died several years later, and his wife did the same thing that Coy’s son did. She called around asking his friends for money to bury him. She called William to ask if he could contribute to Bob’s funeral expenses. William sent her $100.
So, four of “The Durham Mob” ended up the same way, with criminal records and no money. The last of “The Durham Mob,” Swazy, is a broken old man living from day to day in a senior citizens home. He has had two strokes. Only Gene Griffith, the fourth of “The Durham Mob” to die, died rich.
One day, William received a call from Swazy who asked if William could send him $384 to get his 2004 Hyundai out of the shop. Although Swazy hadn’t help him when he was trying to get the restaurant, he sent the money anyway. This was the same Swazy who took a friend with him to the Mercedes dealer years earlier to buy two Mercedes Benz, cash.
Millions of dollars came and went. It is one of the most consistent story endings about drug dealers in New York City. Most die broke!
William taught for twenty-five more years and retired to a financially comfortable life.
People learn and grow from all adventures; some for the better and some for the worse. No one stays the same. There are lessons most people learn going through their experiences. Some people seem to learn nothing and go through life repeating the same mistakes. These people don’t usually end up very well. In the case of “The Durham Mob,” this all applies. Only a few came out for the better. William was not one of them, although he had been close to the money, he never really benefited. These people were no different from most others under the same circumstances. Circumstances caused change. A few kept their heads and adapted. Others got lost and never found their way back.
“In the long run, we shape our lives, and we shape ourselves. The process never ends until we die. And the choices we make are ultimately our own responsibility.”
THE END
Walter E. Smith, The Durham Mob
