Lucky Me by Rich Paul

Author:Rich Paul [Paul, Rich]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2023-10-10T00:00:00+00:00

RULE

Don’t Sleep In.

12

ST. CLAIR

For those who know, Cleveland has always been a town full of gangsters. The Mafia started operating in the city in the early 1900s and rose to national influence. The second Godfather movie included a reference to the “Lakeview Road Gang,” which was based on a real Mafia family that owned hotels and casinos in Las Vegas and Havana. When my homies and I were kids, we knew about the mob but were more attracted to legendary Black gangsters. We started calling ourselves Crips, but that only lasted a few weeks. Official gang affiliations weren’t an organic part of our neighborhood—what mattered was what block you were from.

Some blocks were allies, some were enemies. Carlos was from Ohlman; it was always that one block against everybody else. Holy was from 117th but spent most of his time on 125th, which is the block he claimed. Pill Mil was from Eddy Road but really 125th and St. Clair. I’m from 125th and St. Clair, but could go anywhere. I had a likability factor that eased my path. Everybody recognized me for gambling and dressing fly, and they knew I wasn’t about busting guns or robbing anybody. I had jokes and liked to put people at ease. And I knew everybody on every block from playing so many sports. So when I traveled around the neighborhood, no one asked, “Why is he around here?”

The common denominator of all these different blocks was St. Clair Avenue.

St. Clair was a culture. It has always been a famous, well-traveled strip in Cleveland; you can ride it from downtown all the way to Buffalo, New York. When Bone Thugs-N-Harmony released their first album in 1993 they spread St. Clair culture around the world. Dudes from St. Clair had a certain aura about them—a cockiness, a confidence, a “wish a motherfucker would” type of mentality. Everybody in our circles could tell the difference between a St. Clair dude and a guy from Down the Way or from Superior. Even within St. Clair, we could tell the difference between a guy from 79th and a guy from 125th, or between a guy from 117th and a guy from 141st. The tell could be anything from a haircut to a certain posture, but we knew.

St. Clair was the biggest hood in our city, our Crenshaw, our Harlem, our Southwest Atlanta. The rivalries were complex, like with gangs in Los Angeles, where being a Crip didn’t mean you got along with every other Crip, and being a Blood didn’t mean you got along with every other Blood. The same thing applied to St. Clair. A simple affiliation wasn’t enough to guarantee peace. Within St. Clair there were factions: 108th and 117th didn’t get along; 101st and 102nd would kill each other, even though you could throw a football from one block to the other. No matter what side you were on, you’d better be aware of your surroundings. Every street was its own nation, and within that nation were smaller conflicting sets.

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