To Live and Die in South Jamaica, Queens-Nyc

By Greg X

Autobiography depicting the life and times of Greg X in South Jamaica, Queens-NYC.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543934830

Book preview

A Word from the Author…

Dear Readers:

It is my hope that this book gives you a birds-eye view of my life which is identifiable to the lives of many others that have no avenue of expression. I’m sure it won’t be the best literary work you’ve read. I only ask you to consider the words of an eighth grade dropout that by the Grace of God was risen from the ashes of drug addiction, violence, ignorance and illiteracy. My words may not be collegiate in nature, but I assure you they are organic and reflective of my personal struggles in this life. I further hope that my readers are able to extract value from my experiences that can be used as a prevention for some and an inspiration to others, from the most educated to the person picking up a book for the first time may the record show that it ain’t until God says so.

Greg X

Dedications

I dedicate this work to the memory of my grandparents; Jewel Moore, Mama Sadie and Herbert Stokeley who gave me my parents, Arthur and Geraldine Stokeley.

I dedicate this work to those that lost their minds, freedom and lives in the struggle with drug addiction.

I dedicate this work to my beautiful granddaughter, Jeremie Sky for her to read some of the accounts of my life the bad, the ugly and the good.

I hope to spend more time with you in the coming days.

Copyright © 2018 by Gregory S. Moore

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other no commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator.

eBook ISBN: 978-1-54393-483-0

Book Design: Jay Supreme

Cover Illustration: Jay Supreme

Special discounts when purchased in bulk for premiums and sales promotions as well as for fund-raising or education use. Special editions or book excerpts can also be created to specification. For details, contact the Publisher.

Manufactured in the United States of America

First edition first printing April 2018

Special thank you to…

First and foremost all praises are due ALLAH.

Terrance (infinite Allah) Wayne and John Baxter. Special thanks for invaluable input on the contents.

The Honorable Minister Louis Farrakhan who taught me to read, write and speak on a higher level.

Lisa Henry of Kansas City, Missouri for the initial motivation to write a book, as well as, my other friends on Facebook who were highly encouraging - too many to name.

Regina Moore, my wife, for believing in me. Thank you.

Cynthia C.Y Bailey a supreme thanks for seeing the project through with me to its completion.

Jay Supreme, my graphic artist, who is always on point for me. Thank you.

Prince Moore, my brother, for aiding me with the To Live And Die in South Jamaica, Queens-NYC documentary Facebook series. Thank you.

TODD FEURTADO’S FOREWORD

It all seemed so great. When we thought about going from have not to having, and being able to do what we wanted to do - when we wanted - it seemed great, especially when you grew up always wanting, but never having. But no one truly looked at the cause and effect. We were only looking at how to achieve something great without being a slave to the so-called White man’s system.

The American Dream was not part of a Black man’s vocabulary, so to be able – almost overnight – to help a struggling family or a person that was in need, gave us much more justification for doing wrong, than anything right could compare to. And the more money that came in, the more our mindset was challenged to protect that (drug) income by any means necessary. This was the beginning of the downfall, the beginning of self destroying self.

When we sat down and gathered our thoughts, we came to the realization that the type of entrepreneurship we were involved in damaged lives. The effects lasted from the 1970s, through the ‘80s and ‘90s, and up to today. It was and is devastating. Many were not strong enough to recover from the drug epidemic. So many lives were lost, not only to the drugs themselves, but the lifestyle overall. It didn’t matter if you were on the selling end or the using end. It was all genocide.

There were many lessons we learned. Those of us who were in the drug game used to justify our actions by saying "this is the hand the White man dealt to us, and we’re gonna play it to the best of our ability." But when we reflected and stood on the truth, we began to understand that, yes, the hand was dealt, but we didn’t have to play that hand. There were so many things in life that a drug dealer could’ve done, besides selling drugs. The thought and time we put into the drug dealing lifestyle, could’ve been used to create something magnificent for the community.

Those of us, who were part of the drug culture and lifestyle, are now using our skills, gifts and talents to be proactive about creating a new reality for the community. We are now making conscious decisions to help the younger generation avoid the pitfalls we endured, and keep them from traveling down the road to destruction. This is our calling. This is our duty. Those of us who made it out alive and lived to tell our stories of redemption - owe a debt. We have been given another chance, and to those whom much is given, much is required.

Today, more than ever, we understand the importance of standing united and making a difference in the lives of our youth. They represent the future of us all. As men, we are wiser now, and we realize our collective capability to make a difference in the lives of everyone, and particularly the younger generation. It is our responsibility to give the youth tools they need to develop sound wisdom in all they do.

Yes. There are many who still point judgmental fingers at those of us who caused so much pain and harm to the community, through drug sales. They are justified, and we can only continue to try to take corrective actions to repair the community. But as a community, if we continue to look back in judgment, we will never see the great possibilities that are waiting for us.

We give power to statements such as, It is what it is, not realizing and taking accountability for what it is. We have allowed "what it is" to shape the very foundation upon which we live, and in doing so, many will never realize the full capability of what it could be, or who we could become individually and collectively.

Once we take stock of ourselves, and dare to dream of new possibilities for ourselves and our community, then –and only then – will we see the physical evidence and manifestation of God’s presence, repairing and rebuilding all areas of our lives, and erecting a new solid foundation for the community. We salute Greg X for this brave work. Use this book as a tool for insight and understanding into a time that we hope to never revisit again, as a manual to spark community discussion, and as a reminder of the strength of our people to overcome what, to others, might seem like endless impossibilities.

-Much love from the Feurtado Brothers and the King of Kings Foundation.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1.   TO LIVE AND DIE IN SOUTH JAMAICA, QUEENS-NYC

2.   A Word From The Author

3.   Dedications

4.   Copyright

5.   Special Thanks

6.   Foreword

7.   The Black Man Is God

8.   As A Man, I Did What I Was Raised To Do

9.   I Am A Black Man, Hated And Despised

10. As A 10-Year Old, I Saw Cigarette Burned Furniture

11. I’m 12 Now, I’ve Already Learned To Survive

12. I am Now 15 Years Old

13. Arthur & Geraldine Stokeley Are My Parents

14. The Impact Of Addiction

15. Addiction Short Circuits Brilliant Minds

16. A Vicious Cycle

17. Grandma

18. Mama Sadie

19. I’m 17 Now. The Green Door Is Now The Gate:

Daniel (Pop) Staley

20. To me, Pop Was A Good Man

21. I’d Rather Get High

22. Rewind: Before I Was Smoked Out

23. Then The Unthinkable Happens

24. Addiction: A Spiritual Disease

25. Style Gone, Class Gone, Dignity Gone

26. Generations Wiped Out

27. The Struggle Is Over

28. The Youth Are In Power, Part 1

29. The Youth Are In Power, Part 2

30. I Don’t Get High, I Get Money

31. All Money Ain’t Good Money

32. What Makes You Laugh Makes You Cry

33. What Kind Of God Drinks Ole English?

(A Tribute To Uncle Bill)

34. Get Off Drugs And Stay Off Drugs

35. Engage The Streets Without The Use Of Drugs

36. When I First Got Clean

37. But The Bills Kept Coming

38. A Fellowship Of Men And Women In Queens, NYC

39. The Short Sighted Potentate

40. The Quesbian – The Questionable Lesbian

41. The Backyard Shitter

42. The Snakifide Dry Snitch

43. Crime

44. Lorenzo Nichols aka Fat Cat

45. My Memories Of Supreme (The Supreme Team)

46. Charles Chaz Williams (Black Hand)

47. Wax

48. Bimmy And Joe Antney

49. Joe (The Boss) Antney

50. Irv And Chris Gotti

51. Mook Diamond

52. Mook & GX – Trials And Tribulations

53. Super Star Rapper And Mogul 50 Cent

54. Jay Z

55. The Feurtado Brothers

56. Are You A Gangster Or A Drug Addict?

57. If It’s Alright With You We Fucking

58. My Wife Gina

59. I Learned To Have Sex At An Early Age

60. In Many Cases Fucking Is The Foundation Of Some Relationships

61. The Trouble With Black Men And Black Women Relationships

62. The Brooklyn Fellowship

63. John K

64. Little Herman Timmons

65. The Community As A Whole

66. Acknowledgement

67. The Creative And Intellectual Works Of Greg X

68. Professional Qualifications

THE BLACK MAN IS GOD

I was 9 years old in 1972. I had a little barbeque pit that I was selling franks from, in front of our house. I was doing for self at an early age. These brothers walked up, and I could see they were hard men, maybe in their late teens or early 20s. But they weren’t gang related. One of the brothers asked me if the franks were beef or pork. I didn’t know. He said, "Let me see the package." I let him see the package. They were beef. I hit the jackpot. They each bought two franks. I was on like popcorn.

My mother taught me to pay attention to my elders, so I was observing these brothers. Not to mention, they had just put two whole dollars in my 9-year old hands. These brothers had my complete and undivided attention. These same brothers asked me my name. I don’t remember the other brother saying anything, other than a look of agreement with his brother. And they had an unusual demeanor and comradery.

I answered My name is Gregory. He asked me when I was gonna get rid of that slave name. I was stunned. All I could say was, What? He went on to ask me if I knew that the Black man was God. By now, I was dizzy. My response was the same. What?

He kept the bombs coming. He pointed to the sky and said, There is no mystery God up there. He pointed to the ground and said, There is no devil down there. At this point, I am delirious and completely off balance. Everything I knew about God and the devil was challenged - Intelligently. So I asked him, If God ain’t up there, and the Devil ain’t down there, where theyat? His answer made me close my frank stand for the day. He said, Gregory, the Black man is God and the White man is the Devil. I was wiped out. He said his name was Ali. He emphatically told me to get rid of that slave name, and get knowledge of myself.

Then, Ali and the other brothers walked off. I never saw them again. I heard many stories of Ali. One credible source placed the title of Minister before his name. Praise Be to ALLAH for Minister Ali and his partner for bringing me from a state of darkness, into the light of truth. Before this encounter, I would go around the corner to Bayside Baptist Church. I would really try and grasp what the preacher was saying. Most importantly, I wanted to catch the Holy Ghost, like my grandmother and scores of others. Seems the Holy Ghost was primarily interested in the women.

I raised my right hand, sang the Negro Spirituals, and still the Holy Ghost didn’t visit me. Seems to me that Master Fard Muhammad (to whom praises are due forever, and who is not mysterious) sent Brother Ali to get me. I used to go to a center on Sutphin Boulevard called The Originals of Jamaica. One of the counselors was named Divine. I had no idea that the name Divine meant the presence of God. Divine was cool, though. Always neat and monitored us like a sincere mentor. I know he helped to keep my behavior in check. In fact, I know that without them as part of my formative years, things would’ve been horribly worse.

Salute to Diane Glover, Ronald Kinard, Gloria and others whose names escape me.

So, I told Divine, Ali told me I was God. I remember he looked straight in my eyes and said, That’s right. I told him, He said the White man is the devil. He said, That’s right. He pointed out the murder of Dr. Martin Luther King, and the mistreatment of various other Black people that my 9-year old mind could comprehend.

I told him that Ali said I needed to get rid of my name. Divine responded. Your slave name? I was stuck again. Divine said his slave name was Daniel, but his righteous name was Divine. At that point, the name Gregory had to go. From then on, he took a special interest in me. As I recall, he gave me my first set of lessons or the Book of Life, AKA 120 Lessons.

Before he handed the lessons to me, he said we don’t eat swine (pork). He said the pig is made up of cat, rat and dog, and carries 999 diseases. This is not the diet of the Gods. He also informed me that I needed a haircut. At the time, I was wearing one of those Black Power afros. I got that cut to a Caesar, and started studying my lessons.

I didn’t know how challenging the pork situation would be. After a few weeks, I announced to my family that I was God, and I no longer ate pork. The reaction was, What?!? At this point I had stopped eating it already. On a rare occasion my mother would cook some pork and insist I eat it. I don’t think she believed my sincerity. I got sick and threw up all over her room. My mother gave the family wide directive that there was to be no pork for Gregory.

I was with Divine and Shamell one night, and Shamell kept referring to me as The Young God. That’s how I arrived at the name Young God. In truth, the elders always watched over me. As time went on, the fellowship of Gods & Earth grew in South Jamaica, Queens. 40 Projects was known as The Free Cipher. Bricktown was known as God Town. The Gods in Hollis were strong. The Gods in Baisley were the most intense. Manhattan was called Mecca. The Bronx was called Pelan. Brooklyn was called Medina. Queens was called The Desert. Collectively, we resisted that designation. Queens was re- designated as The Oasis. We were a supreme fellowship; the fellowship of Gods & Earths.

We knew the science of light skin and dark skin, and how they used that to separate us. Our manners were impeccable. Our dress code was referred to as civilized. Our women were the most beautiful women on the planet. Their dress code was modest but highly fashionable. We called it 3/4s because the earth is covered 3/4s in water. The MGT & GCC was, to me, in perfect adherence. We were disciplined to the point that we only ate at the Nation of Islam’s Stake N Take or meals prepared by the Earths.

We did not party with 85s. 85%‘s to us, were poison animal eaters (swine) slaves of a mental death and power, who believed in a mystery God. 10% are rich slave makers of the poor. They keep the 85s blind, deaf and dumb to the knowledge of God and the devil. We believed they were generally big time Christian and Muslim preachers.

The 5% were poor, righteous teachers who knew the truth and had a duty to teach civilization to the uncivilized. I am not quoting the lessons accurately I am only giving an outline for the reader’s brief understanding. We created our own social events. We were particular about our music, and we had our own dance and hustle. We had aspirations to become doctors, architects, and lawyers. We considered crime, alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs as devilishment.

Our women had beautiful names like C Asia, Earthly Paradise, Markina, Wakima, Shalon, Mecca, Madina, and so on. There were Gods with names like Allah Mathematics, Jamel Messiah, Allah Culture, Allah Build, and Lord Prince - thought provoking names. We would always engage each other in elevated conversations that we called building. Gods and Earths was a polygamist society. It was allowable for a God to have more than one Earth. All parties had to agree. The Earths (women) all knew each other, and I never witnessed any jealousy at that time. Creeping was not our nature. Our children were raised by civilized women who did not have degenerate conversations or squabbles.

But then the moral decline started for me in late 1973. Wise Understanding, my uncle, gave me my first puff of weed. It soothed the pain of seeing my parent’s addiction, and opened my eyes to all manner of devilishment. Now all of a sudden, I could see whose clothes were better than mine. I could see the poverty I was living in. More importantly, I could see the older Gods taking on a new direction. The devilishment code was relaxed. Drinking and smoking were now accepted behaviors. Born Equality Equality Rule = BEER. He Equality Rule Born = HERB. We were now using our supreme alphabet to describe drugs.

Somebody snuck the drugs in on us. Years passed, and we started calling cocaine Understanding. One of the lessons asked could