Shahid the Untold Story

By C. McPherson

Take a trip with the main character Shahid is sizzling hot with real street credibility. This suspense filled urban novel will definitely leave you wanting more. Shahid knows the rules of the game and believes he has everything under control until the feds come knocking.This is a metamorphosis of adolescence to manhood. Take this adventurous journey with Shahid to see if this transition keeps him alive

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 30, 2008
• ISBN: 9780595883752

C. McPherson

This book will help other young males to realize that you don’t have to take the street life to make it in this world. It will also allow them to see how prison life really is. Currently, I am a free man and ready to tell my story after serving twenty- one years in the Federal Bureau Prison. Come take a walk with me and you will become a believer.

Book preview

SHAHID

the Untold Story

Shahid Ali

iUniverse, Inc.

Bloomington

Copyright © 2012 Shahid Ali

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-0-595-44052-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-0-595-88375-2 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 3/23/2012

Contents

Preface

Acknowledgements

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTHTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTHTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

THE FINAL CHAPTER

Epilogue

Preface

This is an autobiography about a brother who was once known as Cleveland Shahid McPherson. Shahid grew up in Newark, NJ; better known as Brick City to those who have lived in this area. He was raised in a single parent home by his mother, who had given birth to him at a young age and divorced his father when Shahid was only seven. His mother worked during the day and partied at night, leaving little Shahid, for the most part, to be raised by his grandmother. Shahid’s grandmother lived on the opposite side of town, which caused Shahid to be torn between two different households and, as such; unable to decide as to which environment he truly belonged.

In 1977, Shahid’s family moved to New-Hope Village. Out of this experience, arose a turning point in Shahid’s life—little Shahid was inevitably drawn into the street life.

Although it is difficult to determine which of the numerous events experienced by Shahid as a child affected him the most, one event in particular has remained in his mind as that point at which the streets grabbed hold of him. It all began with a trip to the store. Shahid’s mother had sent him out to buy some food for family when, on his way back, he was approached by five boys in an elevator. At that time, Shahid lived on the fifteenth floor and had no other choice but to resort to riding the elevator. When the doors on the elevator closed, the boys robbed little Shahid for his food stamps. It was at that moment that Shahid vowed never again to be a victim. If it ever happened again, from there on out, Shahid would be the one doing the robbing.

Shahid began smoking weed and hanging out in the streets. Some days, when he would come home, there would be no food in the house. Thus, Shahid soon began stealing, so he and his younger sister would not have to go hungry. Shahid’s mother would get angry with him when he stole or hung out in the streets, but he liked doing wrong and to him, in some ways, it felt right. Consequently, the people he looked up to at that time, made wrong appear right to him. In addition to this, Shahid lacked having a father figure in his life to tell him any different. The only people, who he truly respected, were the criminals. They were the ones who made things happen in the hood, they were the ones who-had the money. These were the things that mattered most to little Shahid and he would do whatever it took to obtain them. Therefore, by Hook or Crook, little Shahid was going to come up in life.

At first, he had begun by robbing and stealing, just as he himself had been robbed that day in the elevator. Then, a few years later, he noticed that one of the biggest drug dealers in Brick City had parked his Fleetwood Cadillac on the sidewalk in front of his building while several fiends washed it for him. Shahid respected the power that such drug dealer possessed over others and, at that moment, decided that this was who he wanted to be.

Shahid began working for the drug dealer and it was not long before one of the fiends took a liking to him. The fiend taught little Shahid the drug game and eventually became somewhat of a ‘street mentor’ to him.

By the age of fourteen, Shahid had begun working for himself, selling transfers and loose joints on Broad and Market downtown. He was hustling in school as well and soon found him-self being arrested for offenses such as robbery, assault, and drug possession more and more often.

When Shahid was seventeen, he moved out of his mother’s house. He had reached another level in life, a level that he had once longed for; he now had the money, the cars, the clothes, and most importantly, the women. Shahid was living a man’s life, yet he was still a boy, and there was a dark side to him that even he was unable to understand. Shahid had witnessed the street life and its intoxicating lure—what begun as purely a need for money had transformed into living for the love of the street life.

It is difficult for a person who has-never experienced the street life to understand what draws people into such a life, but, for those of us who have been there, it is perfectly clear. The street life offers one a sense of immense freedom and power, wherein, the street hustler does what he wants, when he wants, and answers to no one. In addition to this seemingly unlimited amount of freedom and power, there is the cold reality, the realism of street life, that is, the shoot outs, the car chases, and the adrenaline rush that comes from living on the edge. All this captivated Shahid and he knew the streets well, but there was one problem with such a lifestyle. Shahid faced the same fate as all those that had come before him, and like them, his time would soon run out as well.

At the age of eighteen, Shahid had a son who he named Ibn. Ibn was Shahid’s world and he vowed that his son would not have the same relationship as Shahid had with his own father. Shahid had barely known his father, so it was only right that he wanted a real life for his own son. Therefore, at the age of nineteen, Shahid opened up a deli and brought into numerous other business ventures as well. Having spent a large part of his life in the streets, Shahid had developed somewhat of a ‘street savvy’’ over the years and found himself well adapted for the world of private business—then it happened.

Shahid was arrested by the Feds at the age of twenty-three and charged with being the leader of the second largest drug operation to come out of Brick City. He was subsequently tried and sentenced to three hundred months, that is, twenty-five years in federal prison without the eligibility of parole.

After spending much of his life in prison, Shahid has since gained some insight into life and what it has to offer. He now realizes the consequences that life has brought upon him as a result of having been ignorant of what life had to offer him while he was young and, thus, making the wrong choices in life. Also while serving his time, Shahid became aware that those whom he thought were his friends were only there because of what he was doing and what he had. All that remains now is his family. He and his father have since become close and he still remains close with his son, raising him to the best of his ability while remaining behind the walls and fences of the penitentiary.

Fourteen years have passed since Shahid left the streets and, during this time, he has accomplished more than most ever will—he has developed into a mature man. Mostly through finding ways to help others and, most importantly, changing his own life.

Although it would seem that Shahid has reached a plateau in his life, this is not the case. The struggle remains and he works hard every day towards regaining his freedom. Shahid is currently awaiting a decision on his appeal and could be released from prison as soon as the year 2005. If all else fails, he will remain in prison until 2010. All things considered, the most important thing to Shahid is his son and, no matter what the future has in store for Shahid, the only thing that really matters is being there for Ibn as a father. This book is about the life of Cleveland Shahid McPherson and how he became the man that he is today.

This book is dedicated to:

Number one mother of all mothers

Mrs. Naomi Rainey

No matter how much you did or gave you always

gave your all.

Thanks for the unconditional love!

You’re my ride or die chick

IBN and LAMAR

Please stay focused. We have work to do.

Acknowledgements

To my sisters, Shevelle Pudden McPherson and Shakeerah McPherson, you are my heart and I love both of you.

To my biological & step father Cleveland McPherson and Marvin Rainey. You both have been very supportive, in your own ways.

To my step mother Valerie Williams thanks for all the inspiration. Had it not been for you, I may not have been inspired to write nor stay out of trouble…thanks and I love you for all you’ve done.

Special thanks to my son and nephew, Ibn and Lamar McPherson, who I both love and support to my death…

The women in my life whom all played different roles, although some of you are long gone; I still appreciate your efforts. Doing this bid isn’t easy for me either. The help that you all have shown me in one way or another was appreciated. You know who you are.

R.I.P. to my great grandmother, Maud Parker. Thanks for your wisdom and life’s support you gave me… I’ll always love you.

R.I.P. to all those who I cared for dearly, Mattie B., Grandpa Jab, Aunt Shirley, Uncle Rahim, Aunt Nita, Uncle Brother, Grandpa Nathan, Money Spence, Ali Bamburger, Rahim, Boo-Bear, Aunt Mike and all those who I have lost and there have been plenty during my 16 years of being in prison.

To my comrades: Through the times we had each others’ back and more. There are too many true soldiers to name.

CHAPTER

ONE

T he year was 1988. It was a hot summer day when I pulled up in front of my mother ’ s house in New Hope Village. As I parked my blue Fleetwood Cadillac, I noticed that my sister Pudden ’ s Volvo was parked in the other parking spot. As always, I was dressed to a T, wearing a gray and burgundy silk shirt, burgundy silk slacks, gray gator loafers, and straw brim hat. When I approached the building, I was stopped by one of my old runners, a dope fiend named Tariq. Tariq was somewhat of a street/life mentor to me and had taught me about life, the dope game, women, and that I should always try to stay in school. I had begun my life in the street at age ten and that was when Tariq had taken me under his wing.

Tariq asked me what I had been up to while he gave me a hug. He then told me about a spot he had peeped out on 12th Avenue and 8th Street that would be an ideal location to sell heroin because all of the customers in that area were forced either to go to South Orange Avenue and 10th Street, or Central Avenue whenever they wanted to cop. I told Tariq that I would give it some thought, and that I noticed he was still following my lead on the dress tip. Tariq had always been a sharp dresser. He may have worn some cheap shit at times, but he put it together well. Tariq shopped at thrift stores and on this particular day he was wearing a double breasted blazer with a black silk shirt, black slacks, green lizard shoes, and a belt that matched his shoes.

I asked Tariq if he needed anything because he had that look of a junkie when they would wake up in the morning and in need of a fix. He told me that he had been kicking all morning. At that time, it was about 1:00 PM and I went into my pocket and pulled out a mitt, or ten stacks held together by a rubber band, each stack was worth a hundred dollars. I gave Tariq one stack and told that I had to run, but I would be getting back at him about that new spot he had come up with. We hugged, then I entered the building in which Mom Dukes lived.

As soon as stuck my key in the door, my sister Pudden snatches it open from the other side yelling Guess what? I respond with a What? and proceeds in telling me that she and her girlfriend had seen Toya, my wife, kissing this Spanish cat named Curt. Standing there with a befuddled look on my face and wondering if she had just said what I thought she said, Pudden repeated herself—I said we saw Toya kissing Curt in his car! I nonchalantly responded with a Maybe she has something to tell me. I felt hurt in a way, but, then again, it really didn’t hurt at all. I had always felt that I was never ready for marriage. Toya’s mother had insisted on it. We were pressed into marriage because at that time we were living together and Toya’s mother, Jessie, was a devoted Christian woman.

After talking to my sister, I headed to my room where my other sister, Shakeerah, normally slept. I needed to make a phone call.

No matter how much money I made, I always kept a room at Mom Duke’s crib. The first call I made was to my fake cousin in Florida. Everything was set; Keith would be awaiting my arrival in Daytona.

The second call was to Newark Airport to make sure that my flight reservation was still intact. I kissed Pudden and Shakeerah on my out and told Pudden to tell Ma Dukes that I would call her and then left.

CHAPTER

TWO

W hen I arrived in Daytona, Keith was, as always, on point. We hugged and then headed outside to where he had his 560 Benz double parked. Keith ’ s Benz was money green with all white guts and had a crazy sound system.

Walking to the car, Keith told me about a small problem he had with a brother that I had just met only a few weeks ago. He told me that he had two things, plus a surprise, for me in the car. By the time we reached the car, I had a big smile on my face. Waiting for Keith and I were two females, both dime pieces. They were sitting in the back seat of the Benz, one brown skinned and the other a red bone. There was something about red bones that made my testosterone level rise, and Keith knew this. Her name was Gail, and she asked me if I was going to sit up there in the front, or keep her company in the back. Looking at her, there was no way that I was going to let an opportunity like this pass me by. I sat in the back.

As we pulled out, Keith turned up the sounds. A few moments later, he turned around and handed me a 357 magnum and a bottle of Moet during the ride into downtown Daytona, on our way to Keith’s condo, I sipped Moet through a straw out of the bottle and took in the scenery. The Moet with a straw in it was my signature drink, the burner, was for business.

We dropped the girls off at the condo and then switched vehicles. Now, in a Blazer, we headed to Creston City, where I would soon meet up with Keith’s problem. The area we were in had more dirt roads than streets. Keith parked the Blazer a short distance up the road from a pool hall/bar. I then jumped out of the Blazer and walked towards the bar. Having already met this person in advance, I had no problem spotting him as he pulled up in a Deuce and a Quarter. As he got out of the car, I laid for a moment, not wanting him to see my face. Then, as he turned around to close the car door, I made my move—pop, pop, pop, pop, pop. I watched as he dropped to the ground and then ran back to the Blazer.

Still ‘sharp as a tact,’ mind you that I would never let myself get wasted before it was time to put in work, we headed back to the condo. On our way back, we bought a case of Moet. Business was officially over now and the girls were waiting on us.

By the time we returned to the condo, the girls had cooked for Keith and I. Coolie High was playing on the television. Gail and I sat down and kicked it for a few hours and then came time for us to part with Keith and the other female. Gail stood up, and for the first time, I took a good look at her body. She was about 5’7" with medium sized breasts, a nice ass, and a very, very sexy walk. I was completely turned on by her sexy walk and demeanor, and we didn’t even take time to close the door before the sex kicked off.

Gail dropped to her knees and began sucking me off. I don’t even remember at what time my zipper came down. I had my back against the wall and, after I came, we tore each other’s clothes off. As she was lying on the bed and I started hitting her from the side with one leg up in the air. Then I swung her around and guided her on top of me. With her back facing me, she rode the shit out of me. I then stood up, pulled her to the end of the bed, and began hitting her from the back. It was almost as if I had just come home from doing a bid and she was the first woman I had touched in ten years. Yeah, that’s what’s up!

CHAPTER

THREE

I stayed in Florida for one week and then I flew back to Brick City with several bags containing cocaine taped to my body. It was unbelievable the kind of heart I had in those days for shit like that. Once the plane had landed and I caught a cab to Mom Dukes’ crib. I had a stash apartment in the same building that my mother lived in just in case someone started talking, thinking that I kept the drugs at her house.

After I dropped the drugs off in the stash spot, I went up stairs to Mom Dukes’ crib. My wife Toya was there waiting on me with my son Ibn. Little Ibn was my heart, and, if it wasn’t strength of him, Toya might have suffered from a case of M.I.A. (missing in action) back in the days. I was always raised that your beef is with the woman, never the man who she chose to creep with. In addition to this, I always believed that one should never put his hands on a woman that just wasn’t me; I would leave her before it even came to that. I suppose in this sense, Toya was fortunate to have had a man like me. That having been said, I was not about to let a woman dictate over what I do in my life—many brothers are serving life behind the walls of the penitentiary because of women, and the women that put them there are still doing the same thing, only with someone else.

I asked Toya about what I had been told about her and Curt. She denied it, as always, and we headed out the door. She went off to her mother’s house, while I left with Ibn in the Volvo. Ibn and I were wearing matching MCM suits. In those days, I would catch a lot of flak for spending so much money on Ibn’s clothes. My philosophy was that ‘if I could spend it on myself, I could spend it on my son as well.’ A lot of what I attempted to do in life at that time was, in many ways, connected to my son. I wanted the best for him and did not want him to have to struggle as I had coming up. His mother was a different story.

Toya was the mother of my only child, and I loved her for that, but I was not ‘in love’ with her. In the beginning, we were partners. She was Bonnie and I was Clyde—she would hold the heat, pack whatever I needed, if and when I needed it—but she was not a ‘loyal’ soldier, she was merely dispensable. Her connection with my son is essentially what gave her ‘worth’.

Ibn and I were inseparable, we hung out all day shopping, eating, and you name it. At that time, Ibn was two years old and all the females loved him. There were times when I would find myself surrounded by gorgeous women, all wanting to play with him and ask his name. In no time, I would have several phone numbers and/or propositions inevitably led up to me having sex with them.

After a long day of shopping and fun with my little man, it was time to take him home to his mother’s house, or shall I say his grandmother’s house, because Toya was never home when I returned with Ibn, but who gave a fuck, that was her.

CHAPTER

FOUR

A few months went by and I decided to start a business. I wanted to open a deli, but first I had to move. My grandfather had died leaving my grandmother with no one to look after her. It seemed like they had been married forever, and the thought of moving with my grandmother had never crossed my mind until my grandfather had finally passed away. My wife was against it, but that didn ’ t matter to me. It was not until later, that I realized I had made a mistake.

As the saying goes, never shit in your own backyard should have been the applied philosophy in this case. You see, I had never, since moving out of Mom Dukes house, hustled anywhere near where I laid my head. Consequently, it just so happened that I had a spot directly around the corner from where my grandmother lived. In addition to this unfortunate fact, living in my grandmother’s house also led to my wife spending more time, at her mother’s house and beauty salon.

It was not long after that I happened to be at the house with Toya and