The Preacher's Kid

By Donnie "Zig Zag" Owens

I have been a member of the Scorpion Motorcycle club now for 42 years and now Chaplain. This is my story about how I went to a federal prison and it changing my life. These are my memoirs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donnie "Zig Zag" Owens
• Release date: Oct 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311044730

Donnie "Zig Zag" Owens

My name is Donald Vivian Owens III (aka Zig Zag), born Oct. 10, 1951. Born in East Texas, I was country boy raised by a stay-at-home mom and Baptist Preacher father. Then when I was 20 years old, moved to Dallas joined an outlaw motorcycle club known today as Scorpions M/C.

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The Preacher’s Kid

by

Donnie Zig Zag Owens

Copyright 2013 Donnie Zig Zag Owens

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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My name is Donald Vivian Owens III (aka Zig Zag), born Oct. 10, 1951. I am writing this book.

Born in East Texas, I was a country boy raised by a stay-at-home mom and Baptist Preacher father. Then when I was 20 years old, moved to Dallas joined an outlaw motorcycle club known today as Scorpions M/C. I have been a member for 42 years and now Chaplain. This is my story about on how I went to a federal prison and it changing my life. These are my memoirs.

CHAPTER 1

This is a story how I spent three and half days in a car, hand cuffed, belly chained and leg ironed. This is the story how it all started.

Once upon a time . . . OK, starting over . . . one day, Feb 19th, 1989 to be exact, I was living in East Texas, close to where my mother and step dad lived. That day, my step dad and I decided to go to the store where we could buy some gas and food. As we were making the turn off of our road, we saw a van turning onto our road and the occupants were looking at us real hard.

When we returned to the house, mother was obviously shaken and freaking out so we immediately asked what was wrong. She said a van had pulled onto our road and four or five jumped out shooting machine guns and guys were running everywhere.

I told my step dad That's the same van as we saw pass us on the way to the store.

Being nosey as I am, I said Let’s go see if we can find out where they went. So my step dad and I left.

When we didn’t find the van, we went back to moms’ house where a bunch of ATF, FBI and Cops had congregated across the street. By then, the guy that lived behind moms’ house had come over so we all stood in the front yard watching to see what was going on.

An FBI and ATF man came over to us and we asked what was going on. They told us there was a speed lab in the house.

WOW! A lab right under my nose and I didn’t even know. I thought to myself.

They asked all of us our names. My step dad told his name which was Donald High and told them I was Donald Owens. Then the ATF guy looked at me and said Don't they call you Zig Zag?

Man! My heart just went down in my chest. Not quite sure how to answer so I just said, Sometimes.

He said Turn around; we’ve got a warrant for you.

They hand cuffed me and sat me on the porch of the house where the lab was located that they were busting.

It had snowed and the snow was starting to melt. They sat me in the snow on a porch and as it melted, it was dripping on my head from the porch roof. I asked if I could move and they said No, you sit your ass there and don't move. Then the cops took turned, asking about the lab that I had no idea it was even there. I sat in that spot for about two or three hours with my hands behind my back.

As I was sitting on the porch, the Kaufman cop asked me about a lab at my house and about my guns. I answered saying I don't have a lab and I don't have any guns.

He said Come on, I know you do, I unloaded them and took some chemicals out of your shed.

I replied, I don't know what you are talking about.

He said I am the one who took your recipe out of the can you had it in.

At that, thoughts started ricocheting around in my noggin and falling into place – the picture was looking pretty bad. How’d he know to look in that can? I thought.

No one knew where that recipe was but one other guy.

A few weeks earlier, this guy named Cory, he used to be in the club (Scorpions M/C) had come to my house. He said he knew some guys who had some money and wanted to do a cook. He said they would buy everything that we needed. When I went to get the paper to see what all we needed, Cory was behind me and saw where I had kept it. It was with a lot of other papers.

After that, I went to Dallas for a couple of days. When I came back home my step brother Mark said lets go fishing. So I went in to get my pistol, my rod and reel and off to the pond we went. While we were fishing, some turtles came around so I thought I would shoot them. I pulled my gun out, pulled the trigger and nothing happened.

At first, I thought it was a miss-fire, so I pulled the clip out and it was empty. I said WTF?

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I went home still pissed off about my gun. I went straight to the bed room, stood at the side of the bed looking and thinking about what had just happened. I looked down at the shot gun I kept at the side of my bed and noticed that two of the shells that were on the side of the stock were turned the opposite way so I grabbed the shot gun and sure enough, it too was unloaded.

That made me start to worry, that someone unloaded them so they could come back and catch me by surprise without a loaded gun. I thought But why? Then I remembered the shed.

I ran around to the shed and the door had been kicked in. I could tell someone had taken some stuff that I had just dug up (I had it buried in the woods and it still had dirt on it). Then the thought came to me The recipe in the can!

I ran to the bedroom and sure enough, it was gone! I said Shit! Cory’s working for the cops! I knew they would be back so I started getting some stuff together to leave.

Right then, my phone rang and it was Cory wanting me to meet him at a McDonalds. I didn’t let him know I had already figured things out and knowing that’s what the cops like to do, to get you to show up someplace and bust you there.

Not today! I thought. I told Cory that I was busy and hung the phone up. I was in a panic mode.

I went back to Dallas for a few months hoping all this would die down.

When I thought it was safe, I moved back to my house. I was wrong, that’s when it all started and I decided right then that I wouldn’t cop to a thing.

Over the years of being a drug dealer, I would always ask people what they went through, what the cops asked and the games they play trying get you to trick yourself up. So I knew what was going to happen before it happen. In my heart I knew I would get busted if I didn’t stop.

They got me down to the jail there was another guy named Buck. They had just busted him in a lab. They put us both in a cell together and I said Man, don't say nothing! They’re hoping we will talk about a lab.

In case you don't know, there are speakers outside the holding rooms so the cops can talk to you and listen to you. I knew they put us together hoping we would talk and tell on ourselves.

Sure enough they called him out of the cell to a room where they were. I knew that they had told him to go back and try to get me to talk about stuff. He came back he said You were right, that’s what they were doing.

From the day they left those hand cuffs on for so long, my right shoulder was never been... right again. I finally had to have it replaced with surgery.

You may be asking yourself Zig Zag why did the FBI and cops start watching you in the first place?

I believe when I was voted in as President of the Dallas Scorpions M/C (in 1979), that’s what put me on their radar. Back in the ‘70s, motorcycle clubs were so much different than they are today and truthfully, we were pretty bad.

Right after I got voted in, all