When I say Newark, I bet 99.9 percent of you automatically think Newark, NJ, the crime capital of the East coast. Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. I am talking about Newark, NY.

Yes, New York.

What? You have never heard of it? If you haven’t you must be as stupid as Terri Schiavo. I mean this place is world-renowned, albeit mostly because of crime. From teachers videotaping their 5-year old students changing, to a lady with over 100 cats, the stealing and liberating of garden gnomes, employees fake scanning at local grocery stores, and dead bodies being found in the woods, Newark has received a lot of publicity because of its crime. I mean Newark has been put on the map because of these crimes, putting Newark, NJ in Newark, NY’s limelight.

But there is one Newark crime spree that I personally have been associated with.

The Gang Wars. Yeah I said it, and I’ll say it again, Gang Wars. Two gangs have graced Newark with their presence, and lucky for me, I have been involved with both of them, neither of which were pretty. Let me explain.

The first one was back when I was in middle school, when there were all these rumors flying around that the Ku Klux Klan was inhabiting the woods around our neighborhood. Now I now what your thinking, “yeah right, those are just rumors.” You know what, maybe you were right. But come on now, I was 12 years old, so I sure as hell believed it just as much as I believed wrestling was real. And besides, there was once a rumor going around that my girlfriend cheated on me. Just a rumor? No, she cheated on me with six different guys. So many times rumors are true.

But I shouldn’t have even been scared right? I mean, I’m a white boy. They wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me, right? Somehow that didn’t matter, I was scared, and avoided the woods like they were girls with cooties. By doing that, I could let those rumors just stay right there in the woods and away from me.

But come on now, you were all 12 once, you know at some point I had to be an idiot and go in those woods. Curiosity is a son of a bitch when you are a kid. From looking for Christmas presents, to searching for your dad’s porn, to smoking and drinking, curiosity makes you do some crazy things. Well, just like the hunt for my dads porno stash, one day I just had to know what was in those woods.

Man I couldn’t regret that more.

One Saturday I convinced my friend Nick Palermo to go into the woods with me to see what we could find. Just like trying to convince a girl to try anal sex, it took some convincing, but eventually he caved and agreed. So we grabbed our bikes and took off into the woods for what would turn out to be quite an eventful day.

It wasn’t long before we came across something interesting. It was a fire pit that was surrounded by chairs and logs to sit on, with beer cans scattered all over. Considering we were 12, the first thing we thought of was that we had come across where The Midnight society met for ‘Are you Afraid of the Dark’, and that they had a party after they told their stories, but kept that off camera.

However, we quickly ruled this out because it was a Saturday afternoon, and Snick and that classic orange couch wasn’t going to be until later tonight, so we were a day early for ‘Are you Afraid of the Dark.’ We also decided that this wasn’t a high school party place, because after all we were 12, and for all we knew high schoolers bought all the same crap we did, especially the don’t do drugs thing. So obviously it wasn’t that.

This only left one rational explanation—this was obviously the rendezvous point for the KKK.

Yes, we may have been idiots to conclude something like that, as looking back now, I know that the place is actually a place for high school parties. But come on, I barely knew long division let alone recognize a high school party scene.

But even then, we were still curious. We hadn’t seen enough, so our search of the woods went on.

It was soon after that where our curiosity would become a disturbing and frightening reality. As god as my witness, cross my heart and hope to die, kiss of the double pinky thumb knuckle (Salute your shorts), as we were riding our bikes down the trails in the woods, there they were, we had found about 20 people walking towards us, covered in white robes and hoods.

I only wish I was joking. I really am not lying. Immediately my friend and I froze in fear. I shit you not, I have never been so scared since my sister convinced me Santa Claus wanted my soul. What the hell was I supposed to do now? There I am with my friend, in the middle of the woods, with nothing but my bike with me, with a bunch of people in white ropes and hoods on, and no one would hear me scream, even if I tried.

Quickly Nick and I had to brainstorm as to what we wanted to do. And quicker than me during sex, we decided that we had to get the hell out of there, and we had to do it fast. The most rational idea would have been for us to go back the way we came. Yeah well we were as rational as most girls are, as we weren’t thinking right and there was an intense emotional orgy going on in our heads. Our thought process was all tore up, and we made a stupid decision and picked up our bikes, got off the trails and hightailed it through the middle of the woods on foot like two scared bitches.

This was a really, really bad idea. About 5 minutes off the trail, we came across a swamp. And since we were convinced the KKK saw us and were now chasing us, we had no other option but to walk THROUGH the swamp. Not around, but through. There we were, in normal clothes, carrying our bikes over our head, walking waste high through a swamp immersed in some of the nastiest slime I have ever touched.

It was at that point when we came across the WWF’s own Skinner. There he saved the day for us and took out the KKK. No, not really. After about 30 minutes of treacherous swamp lollygagging, we made it across and found a new trail where we hopped on our bikes and took off home, only to suffer my parents’ wrath as I had ruined clothes and a pair of shoes. And I’m sure every reader knows that there isn’t much worse than a pissed off parent. Maybe I was better off with the KKK.

But in the end it was all worth it, as I had escaped one of the most well known gangs in the world and all I needed was a penicillin shot from the swamp. For all I know, I could have escaped being burned at a stake, or may have been forced into being a member before I even had hair on my balls. All that matters to me is I was successful at avoiding a confrontation that could have been ugly.

In my first encounter with a gang in Newark, I ran like a little bitch. The KKK scared me more than my grandpa’s false teeth. My next time though was quite different.

Just like when I was 12 and there were rumors going around that the KKK was in town, when I was in High School, there were rumors going around that the Bloods were in town. In case you don’t know, the Bloods are a legit gang that typically are out west thats trademark is wearing red, and is involved in some serious and high level crime. One key word in that sentence is WEST. This is not an east coast thing. But somehow, someway, a bunch of Puerto Rican people in my town started wearing red, taking part in crime, and started calling themselves the Bloods. Yeah I didn’t understand either, nor take them very seriously.

As sure as I am that popping your collar isn’t cool, these kids were not legitimately Blood members. Either way though, there was a lot of them, they stuck together, committed lots of crime, and even attacked people in our school for wearing their colors, leading to expulsion for some of them. So I guess you can say they are as much of a gang as I had seen since my swampy experience about five years before.

And just like with the KKK, I was about to get a front row experience with them.

One summer night my friends and I found ourselves at another friend’s party. You know how it works in High School, the parents go away for the weekend, and the kid throws a party, and all of a sudden has three times as many friends for the night. Well this party was no different. Everyone and their mother showed up, including the Bloods.

This party was actually quite sweet, as my friend had a pool, and everyone was getting drunk, swimming and having a super duper time. The Bloods however mixed with this party about as well as oil with water, stuck to themselves, and didn’t socialize much. Forget about them though, after a few funnels and shots, I was quite wasted. I had wanted to go swimming, but unfortunately for me, I didn’t bring my suit, so I stuck to the side of the pool and just enjoyed being drunk. That was about to change real fast.

In the middle of one of my conversations with a friend, someone shoved me in the pool. Now that’s just not cool. I mean come on. That’s the ultimate party foul, not only was I in clothes and shoes, I had my friggin' wallet in my pocket. A wet wallet is the worst thing. Wet money, wet social security card, wet leather….everything gets screwed up. It’s quite annoying. If you have ever had your wallet put through the wash, you know what I mean. So there I was, in the pool, about as wet as the classic kid from your high school who sweated like a whore in church whenever he played sports. I think it goes without saying that I was pissed.

Out come the beer muscles.

Everyone at the party saw me in the pool, as a loud orchestra of ‘Ooooooooooh’ went over the crowd like I had dropped my tray in the cafeteria at school. I crawl out of the pool and start going apeshit on everyone. “Who the fuck did it? Come on pussy speak up, don’t be a bitch,” I start yelling. Then someone stepped up, some schmuck who claimed he was in the Bloods. It was then where he called me a bitch, and said that if I had a problem with him, he can meet me in the road for a fight. He then set off to the road with his gang members.

Considering I was furious, drunk, wet, and had beer muscles on, if he wanted a fight, he was going to get one. I wasn’t going to run like I did from the KKK. It was at this very instant where my “best friend” and fellow Zubaz writer Russell Gilbert got scared, got in his car and left me hanging. Thanks Russ. Best friends forever. So there I was, on my own. But I couldn’t bitch out now.

So I start walking to the road, all the while wondering who the hell this kid was and why he would he push me in the pool. Unfortunately, these questions remain unanswered to this day. Eventually, I got to the road, and there he was waiting for me. Shit was about to get real serious, real fast.

“Who the hell are you, why the hell did you push me in the pool bitch?” I yell. “Because you ain’t nothing but a bitch that’s why, you pussy!” he yells back.
“So what, you’re going to kick my ass now or something fucker”? I reply.
“I’m going to beat your ass mother fucker, just meet me in the road,” he replies.

This is where I made a reply he didn’t like so much: “what are you fucking retarded? How stupid are you asshole, I am already standing in the fucking road!”

This kid had enough. As soon as I finished that sentence, he punched me. An instant white flash crossed my eyes, but like a switch, I was thrown into crazy mode.

Without even trying to sound cool, the kid never got another punch off and I beat the shit out of him. I barely even remember it as it happened so fast, all I know is the fight got broken up with me on top of him. I had done it. In my first fight, I had kicked some kid’s ass. I was on cloud 9, with a 12 pack in my stomach and a cut on my forehead.

Oh but the battle was just beginning. As soon as the fight ended, his gang comes up to me and started shit, and it seemed that what once was a 1 on 1 fight, was about to be an ass kicking. Then something classic happened, like something out a movie, all of my friends stepped up for me and got in between us saying ‘if you want him, you have to go through me.’ Before I knew it, all my friends had stepped up, so that we outnumbered them, basically one whole party against these Blood members. It was then where these kids backed down, and walked away from the party, but not without telling me this war was far from over.

Not exactly the words I wanted to hear.

Lucky for me, the very next day I had to work. It didn’t take long before members of his gang were coming into my job and coming up to me and telling me that I was ‘dead,’ and would get my ‘ass handed to me soon.’ Needless to say, I was scared. And don’t even try to think you wouldn’t be. If you had about 10 people come into your work, all dressed in red, and tell you that you were dead, you would be too.

From every day thereon out, I was always looking over my shoulder. I was always worried I was going to get jumped. Now I know I was probably the most deadliest person in town at that point, but even I have my limitations. I mean even Superman couldn’t defeat kryptonite. I think 10 people was my kryptonite. There was no way I could beat it. Lucky for me however, they were all expelled from school, so I never had to worry about it during the week. But then the weekend came, and I knew this weekend could be the one.

After a typical night out with my friends, we ended our night at Dunkin Donuts. And who did we see when we walked in? None other than a few members of the Bloods. I immediately began to panic. But they had already seen me, there was no point in running, so I stuck it out and stayed.

It was here that I noticed the black eye on the kid. His shit was fucked up. Now I won’t lie, the punch that kid landed was a good one, and actually made me bleed. Although the cut was in my hairline, it’s now exposed as part of my forehead thanks to me going bald. But man that was nothing compared to that black eye. That gave me a real confidence boost. Enough confidence to do one of the most crazy thing I may have ever done.

I wanted to show them that I wasn’t scared, even though I was, and that I couldn’t be intimidated. I went and sat directly next to them. I’m talking the seat directly next to the kid that I beat up.

So what did they do when I sat down next to them? Kick my ass? Talk shit? Nope. They did absolutely nothing. Didn’t even say a word. Just looked at me, and then carried out their business. I had shown them that I wasn’t scared, and that I wasn’t going to back down to them.

That was the last of any problems I ever had with the Bloods. I never received any more threats, and never got jumped. Somehow, scrawny, pretty boy me had got into a war with the world-renowned Bloods, and they seemingly surrendered. I mean I know I am an ass-kicking machine, but come on, at least give me a run for my money for all the shit you talked. But they didn’t, now not only have I had a run in with the KKK, but I now had a run in with the Bloods and lived to tell about it.

There you have it. Newark has had two gangs that have come through town, the Ku Klux Klan and the Bloods. Odds are they were watered down versions and were much more harmless than the real deal, but either way, they were there. And somehow, I managed to have confrontations with both of them. One I ran like a bitch, and one I actually went face to face with them. Maybe I should have stuck around for the KKK. Maybe I could have shown them my 1-2 punch. I could have single handedly taken out a single gang. Maybe it was better the other way though. In the end though, I can actually say that I had confrontations with two gangs and lived to talk about it.

Questions? Comments? Want to meet me in the road? Already standing in it? If so, email me at Ikartz11@yahoo.com