Life Long

By Xlibris US

In this book I am writing about all the illegal and wrong things that I did from the year 1986 that I was 16 years old forward. I talk about the time I spent in prison which was from 1989 until 2005 just for the reader to see the inside of how people in prison live and do. I also wrote about the time after prison that I got involved in Medicare scamming and it is an insight on how people where thinking at that time and how they were doing it. Everything I am writing in this book is to give the reader an insight of how everything was done and its all true.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493187744

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Juan Diaz.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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.

Rev. date: 03/14/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

606733

CONTENTS

EASY TIME

EPILOGUE

Before anything, I have pleaded guilty to all charges and taken a plea deal. I received fifteen years in prison with a minimum mandatory of three years with ten years on paper, which is probation, for a total of twenty-five years. All the names were changed to protect the innocent or not-so-innocent. Anyway, there is a statute of limitations, and I did not kill anybody, which has no statute of limitations.

It’s 1986, and I am sixteen years old. My friend just broke into a town house and found thirteen kilos of cocaine in a suitcase. That’s what got me hooked on the lifestyle trying to hit it big. Remember, kilos of cocaine were going for thirty-five thousand dollars each. Just to remind you, you can buy a brand-new 300ZX, and that was the ultimate sports car at the time, for nine or ten thousand dollars, and a house was going for about sixty-five thousand. You could buy a nice house at that price. Now at that time, the role models we had were drug dealers or people working for drug dealers. The number 1 movie at that time was Scarface, so we were being pummeled with drug dealers. The number 1 show on TV was Miami Vice, which was about two cops posing as drug dealers and doing drug deals. The number 1 song at the time was Smuggler’s Blues by Glenn Frey from the Eagles. The number 1 rap song is called White Lines, get higher baby, get higher girl, get higher baby, and don’t ever come down freebase. All you heard on the news and on the streets was about drug deals, so that’s the inclination that was given to me by Hollywood and the media.

I started breaking into houses about that time because I also wanted to find a stash like that or find a stash house. It was pretty easy at that time; there were no cameras or camera phones like nowadays. You just knocked on the door of the house early in the morning when people went to work, and if nobody answered, it was easy to just use a screwdriver and jimmy the lock or just break the window. That’s what I did over and over. I usually hit about two to three houses every morning and would love to hit a house on the weekend when people were going out.

The main thing in this situation was having what’s called a fence—a person who would always buy your stuff or give you something else worth money, usually drugs. He was usually a drug dealer, and he would buy the stuff from you, usually cheap, and then sell it to his clients. Everyone was happy, and it’s amazing when I think about how it used to be. This was the norm in the world I was living in.

I also made friends with the owner of a pawnshop, so I would bring him all the gold I got, and he would melt it down and give me my commission. I usually bought gold from him, and when I wanted to return it, he would give me the money back that I paid for it. It was like renting the jewelry with him. He became a really good acquaintance.

The first home invasion I ever did was when I was seventeen years old and in twelfth grade. Some guy I met in eleventh grade in 1986, we will call him Martin, was in a class with me before lunch. The class was art, and the teacher was a burnout. So we would skip the class and go to Martin’s house. I had made friends with him a couple of months back, so I didn’t know his story. Turned out Martin used to sell a lot of weed at the time, so we would go to his house to smoke a little weed, and he would prepare bags full of weed for clients.

He must have had five or six pounds in his closet, but the rule of the street was don’t ask too many questions because people would think you’re a cop or working for the cops. He and I became good friends. He knew I was pretty shot out (that means crazy), so one day, he called me and told me, Come to my house. I want to ask you something. He was there with another friend and told me, You think you have the balls to make a quick ten grand?

I said, Yeah, what’s up? At the time, I was hanging out with two friends, let’s call them Christopher and Gerry.

Mind you, these guys aren’t delinquents or as crazy as I am at the time, so I tell them everything, and they go with me to meet with Martin. I had already amassed some guns and rifles—mind you, without bullets—except my gun, which is a Beretta .25 caliber.

Martin tells me there’s this apartment that sold weed all the time and that there would be three people tops in the apartment, that he should have about ten grand, and to take all the weed also. Finally, we found out where the apartment was. It was a second-story that you went to straight from the stairs. Christopher was holding an AK-47 without bullets (that I had stolen) and Gerry was holding a .357 Magnum without bullets. I was holding the Beretta with bullets.

I knock on the door, my two accomplices behind me. They open the door, and I automatically get the guy by the hair. There must be about twenty freaking people, but they were all high. I scream, Get on the fuckin’ floor! Put your hands behind your back and look down!

I told my accomplices, Cover them. I’m going to the other room. Turned out, there were like five people in the other room. I yelled at them, Get down and look down and nobody will get hurt! We got out of the apartment with like two pounds of weed, and my final cut after everybody splitting the money was one thousand dollars.

I went to school the next day, and there was this fine little Colombian girl in my class named—we will call her—Margie. I approached her and told her, What would you do for all this?

She looked at the wad of money and freaked out, then told me, Anything you want. I will even get another girl and have a threesome with you. Anything you want.

Mind you, we were in school, so I teased her the whole day, and she was always talking to another Colombian girl—we will call her Claudette.

Finally, when school finishes, Margie comes to my car with the other Colombian girl named Claudette and tells me in Spanish, We’re ready when you are. We can go to my house. My mom doesn’t get home until seven o’clock. I sit in my car, look at them, and tell them, You think I would ever pay one thousand dollars to you two girls?

They look at me, bewildered, and say, Okay, not one thousand. We will do it for five hundred. I start laughing and leave in my car. That was the beginning of my being one crazy SOB.

So I still did the normal break-in every chance I could but met a lot of people along the way. I was a no-fooling-around type of dude. One time, I was looking for a place to hit. It’s about to be summer, so it’s a national skipping day. The person I was with got a phone call from a girl to ask him what he was doing. She wanted to hang out with him.

So he told me, C’mon, bro. She’s with other chickies [that means girls]. Let’s go hang out with them.

I said, No. I need to get some flow [or money] to hang out nice.

He told me, Well, drop me off. I’m going to hang out with them. You’re not going to come?

I say, No, I’m going to hit a crib [meaning break into a house], then I will go hang out.

So he said, Take it easy, dude. He then told me where they will be—Rickenbacker Lot 2.

Everybody would skip school on national skip days, so like in fifteen minutes, I break into a crib, I check everywhere, then I check the pillowcases. Bingo! I find like six hundred dollars in cash, and I leave everything except the cash. I finally get to the beach where my friend is, and he is just getting there also and says