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One of my ex-best friends got caught up with the Hells Angels when she was heavy into selling hard drugs. She told me that she had been indirectly responsible for someone's murder.
She told me this years ago before I broke contact with her so the details are a bit fuzzy. If I recall correctly, she got robbed for thousands of dollars worth of drugs and became indebted to her drug dealer. Her dealer's supplier was in the HA (and probably still is). The supplier threatened to send a gang of Somalis to her house because she couldn't pay up. Apparently, in my city, the HA pays a fee to this gang of Somalis to go to people's houses and destroy everything and beat up the residents. My friend lived with her parents, sisters, and infant niece at the time so she was terrified that they would get hurt.
But the supplier gave her another option. He said that if she did them a favour, they would hold off and give her some time to pay them back. The HA was trying to track down a guy, let's say his name is Bobby. My friend knew where Bobby lived, and the supplier said that if she rode with them and pointed out his house, then her family and home would be safe while she paid off the debt. One night, she did what they asked her to do, and very shortly afterwards, Bobby went missing.
She said that the HA dump bodies at construction sites in unfinished concrete, and then they pour more on top to cover them up. She thinks that this is what happened to Bobby. He was never reported missing because he didn't really have any family, and his friends were all caught up in so much illegal activity that they didn't want to go to the police. He just kind of vanished one day and she put two and two together.
As she was telling this story to me, I suspected that she might be making it up as an excuse to borrow money from me, but she never asked me for anything. Not even a single dollar. By the time she got to the end of the story, she seemed rattled and sincerely remorseful, like this was weighing on her conscience. It seems unbelievable but I think she was telling the truth. I'm actually so glad I cut her out of my life because she was a magnet for crazy fucked up stuff like this…
Your friend did act as an accomplice to a murder, yeah.
Did you know she was involved with drugs before? I mean, you could've also ended up getting in trouble.
I have no stories. When I lived in a midwest city I would see people wearing colors, but I feel like it’s starting to skew more towards “crews” and not large organized gangs. Some of my family has had problems with gangster disciples, but that was a long time ago.>>278339
Thanks for sharing that intense story. I hope that girl cleaned her life up. She will end up dead or in jail otherwise.
I'm the anon who wrote >>278339>>278373
At the time when she told me this story, I hadn't seen or spoken to her for months. Prior to this encounter, I had an inkling that she was doing drugs but I had no idea that she was selling. I couldn't even do anything about what she told me because all I knew was the guy's first name. Maybe I should've encouraged her to call an anonymous tipline or something. But hindsight is 20/20 I guess.>>278516
From what I can tell by her social media, she hasn't cleaned her life up. I don't know if she's still selling but she's definitely still using. She posts really weird stories on Snapchat. Like she'll be at the gym at 1am, zooming the camera in and out while its pointed at a paper towel dispenser in the bathroom. It's very sad. Drugs have completely changed her. I could write a book about her and all the crazy shit we've been through together. I miss the person who she used to be, but it got to the point where I realized she would never be that person again.
I don’t know if this really counts, but my aunt dated a bookie for the Maggadino and Frangiamore families in western NY. He was Polish American, though, so he wasn’t made or anything, just a schlepper. He was about thirty years older than she was, I think? I loved him because he always dressed in a super fancy suit and tie and I could never understand why, because the rest of us were blue collar. He golfed all the time, in fact, that was what I thought he was, or that’s what I was told, that he was a golfer, and he always had these big Airedale dogs. We were poor so he always seemed really fancy to me. He smoked cigars and could tell a great story. He was a lot of fun to be around.
I guess there were a few scrapes, once he asked my aunt to keep some guns in the house (which she did) and once he got his ass beat bad for some infraction and my aunt took care of him and hid him in the basement till he got better.
He was a genuinely sweet guy who put my cousins through college. My aunt had always struggled with ana-chan and mental illness and when she began to show signs of dementia in her fifties, he paid for her care. When he died, it turned out he had set up a trust that made sure she was provided for. He was loaded. It ended up being kind of cool because all my hand me downs came from him, basically. Everything my cousins had, they gave me about six or seven years later, so it was kind of neat. Looking back, I guess it was weird, but still fun. I never felt like there was any danger associated with him or his life and I only learned about what he really did way, way later.
Are men stand up guys anymore? I feel like I could never find someone to look out for me like that.
(Aside from the criminal stuff)
That sounds wild and interesting, but scary. Hope you're safe now!>>278683
That's honestly fucking sad. Did she got into it because of life circumstances or by arbitrary choice?
Living in a 3rd world country has had me reflecting about the subject of gang violence. I've had friends that ended up selling drugs or otherwise involved in illegal shit to make money in a country where a lot of the population either are born rich or die poor to try to come out on top, and at least two of them are already dead.
One of my girl friends also dated a gang member and when he broke up with her, he shaved her head, beat her up and made her leave the place she was living in.
I have no idea! He certainly wasn’t a made guy or a part of the family.
I was thinking about him after I wrote that and remember a couple of times that he looked kind of beat up, but it was (in retrospect) always something ridiculous like ‘he fell’ or ‘he walked into something’. He was always a very fancy, very smiley, very happy guy.
I wish I knew how he got into it to begin with but it was always real hush hush in the family, and even my cousins don’t know all the details.
His name, or nickname, or bookie name or whatever was (sp.?) Ontek, which I think is a Polish American way of saying Tony or Anthony. Everyone called him that, even my grandma. Anyhow, he was neat. Out of a different time.
Polish person there.
I think he was being called Antek, which is a diminutive/nickname version of a name Antoni/Anthony indeed.
And such a sweet story.
I could see some small activity in Boston. But Southie isn’t what it used to be. (Our old Southie house was torn down to build crazy expensive condos). There’s not very solid Irish neighborhoods anymore.
There’s still corruption (police, politics, construction), but I don’t know about anything more.
Ps this dude sounds dangerously attractive (accent, bad boy) stay away!!
I'm the same anon from >>278683
She had a rough life prior to getting into drugs, but lots of people have been through worse things without getting addicted to cocaine and GHB and alcohol. So I'd say it was both circumstance and choice.
My condolences about your friends. I hope you're doing alright.
It’s tough to say, because he seemed kind of ageless in a way, and there was a certain amount of mystery about him, like I said, I’m not even sure my cousins know his whole story. If I had to guess, I’d say he was probably born in the late teens/early twenties? It’s possible that he was older than that. He was born and raised in Buffalo, NY, in a Polonia on the East side of the city (my family lived close by) and as far as his background goes that’s all I know for certain.
When I was small we went visiting to my auntie a lot, because she was (I think) an agoraphobe of sorts, it was rare that she left the house, and Antek (thanks again Polish anon) was always, always there. He taught me some Polish curse phrases over the years that I still say, but I have no clue how they’re spelled! Another really strong memory I have of him is sitting at the kitchen table with the grownups and being mesmerized by the flashy rings he wore. They were big gems, and given the way he dressed I’m pretty sure they were real. He would laugh and take them off and let me look at them and put them on. There’s a picture of me sitting in my mom’s lap next to him and I’ve got his rings on, everyone is laughing.
He used to play the horses a lot, perhaps not surprising for a bookie. On Christmas, my grandma always had a big family dinner that my aunt would make it out for, and he was always there. He was just this sort of permanent fixture, always around.
I wish I could tell you or remember more, anon. I do recall that after he died and my cousins found out about the trust for their mom, they were just floored. She was in a good care facility for the last fifteen years of her life and they never paid for any of it. He may have seen or even done some bad stuff in his time, but he truly loved my aunt and I think he was a special, cool person.
Thank you very much for the detailed reply and intriguing stories. If those documents that set up a trust for your aunt and paid for your cousins' college are still around there's a good chance his real name was on them in order to successfully transfer money. Then,that could be used to look up census information as well as birth, marriage, and death records. He was born long enough ago that you'd find him on the older, released censuses. As for how those Polish curse words might be spelled, two that I'm aware of are kurwa (roughly pronounced "kuur-va") and spierdalaj (roughly pronounced "speer-dull-eye"). Kurwa means whore and is the Polish equivalent to fuck in its flexibility and frequency of use. Spierdalaj means fuck off.
One more question. How did your family find out that he died? Did a member of the mob tell you, or did a check for your aunt's trust arrive with an explanation that he wrote before death, or something else? Thanks again for sharing this. He seems like a unique man.