Bloodline by John Turnipseed

Author:John Turnipseed
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BroadStreet Publishing Group LLC

20

THE SHOOTING OF LITTLE JOHNNY

In 1992, while in jail for theft—I was in and out of jail a lot—I received a phone call in the middle of the night. Little Johnny had been shot.

I felt like I’d taken a bullet to the chest myself. But considering the way I lived, it wasn’t all that surprising.

As I understand, it happened this way. When the Turnipseed family had parties, it was the way some of the Mafia movies portray gangs. Everybody checked their guns at the door because there was alcohol served and most of them had learned that guns and alcohol don’t mix.

To enforce the no-guns-inside rule, the family hired two armed men to stand outside. Two more men on bicycles rode up and down the streets and alleys patrolling the outer perimeter. Every fifteen minutes the bikers checked with the two on the door.

Two additional men sat in cars or vans before the party and until after it was over. The police might drive by, but because of highly tinted windows they couldn’t see the men sitting inside. But then, neither could other gangbangers.

Whoever ran the party told Johnny to leave because he was drunk and upsetting people. He wasn’t well liked by most of the family members as he had violated too many rules. Many considered him a spoiled bully, but because of me—my protection—no one could do anything to him.

When Little Johnny left, the guard at the door wouldn’t give him back his gun. “You’re drunk,” the man said. “We’ll hand it back after you sober up.”

“Okay,” Little Johnny said, and left.

He had parked his car about a block away. That was standard because we didn’t want the police to see a lot of cars near one house. Otherwise they might call in the numbers of the license plates and figure out it was a Bloods gang meeting.

A guard on a bicycle rode in front of Little Johnny, escorting him to his car. That much seems clear. When my son turned the corner, the rider disappeared. Just then, four men came out from behind the bushes and opened fire, point blank.

When I heard about the incident, I raised two questions (and they were never answered): How did they know Little Johnny would be there? What happened to the guard on the bicycle?

In our entire Bloods history, no one had ever been shot while he was with an armed escort. A few times, someone had been shot at from a distance, but never at close range. Wasn’t it strange that with two men on bicycles and two men in parked cars nearby that none of them could prevent the shooting?

For that to happen to Little Johnny had to be a conspiracy within the Bloods—again, something that hadn’t happened before. When the Bloods had parties, everyone knew the people were heavily protected. And yet even with all the protection, four men ambushed and shot Little Johnny.

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