JOHN BOLTON WILL TESTIFY IN MOZZA FRANCIS SEBASTIAN'S "BLACK CELL DOWN" TRIAL, SEE MOVIE BELOW

EX-NATIONAL SECURITY ADVISOR LIKELY TO SAY SPACCA’S NEW  MANAGER WAS “PROPERLY BRUTAL” TO PIZZERIA CELL PHONE THIEF IN 2019 MOVIE   

By  Jimmy Dolan Mozza Tribune Staff Writer

Transcripts of former National Security Advisor John Bolton’s upcoming book obtained by the New York Times allegedly condemn the 2019 actions of then-Pizzeria Mozza assistant general manager Francis Sebastian when he “subdued” a woman who had stolen a cell phone.

“To call what Sebastian did “subdue” is like calling tornado as windy,” Bolton writes in his upcoming memoir entitled “Why We Should Bomb More Countries”, according to an article published today in the New York Times. “Still, I am 100% behind what Francis did. She threw at him and he fucked her up.”

Sebastian, 39, recently promoted to manager of Chi Spacca, is under investigation by Congress for an “abuse of power” complaint stemming from an incident at the Pizzeria in a woman seated at the “Wine Bar” swiped the cell phone of another customer.  Sebastian, after viewing security video, confronted the woman, a 30-something black lady. After a few seconds, she took a wild swing at Sebastian, a distant relative of Genghis Kahn, who took her down with a move Hulk Hogan would have admired.

At that point the two get out of video view and this is where the “abuse of power” allegations arise. The lady suffered three broken legs, a dislocated  suffered a dislocated nose, two sprained wisdom teeth, an elongated ear, bruises to her pancreas and a desire to fart that continued for weeks, according to her lawsuit.

The film, ‘BLACK CELL DOWN” which will be entered in the Cannes Film Festival later this year is shown here. WARNING - This film may not be suitable for people under 25 years old.

https://vimeo.com/manage/390853831/general (This must be cut and pasted to view.)    

Lady in center of photo is about to get beat.

.  

ELYSSA "ZOOKEEPER" PHILLIPS THWARTS MOZZARELLA BAR BRASS DUCK THEFT

At 8 p.m. Monday  at the Osteria’s Mozzarella  Bar, server Elyssa Phillips had a warning for chef Marisa Takenaka.

 “Elyssa told me, ‘Watch out for those two drunk white ladies at 14 and 15’,” Takenaka told the Tribune. “They’re gonna try and steal some brass animals.”

 Four minutes later, two ducks were missing and Elyssa approached the two drunks.  

 “Nancy calls me ‘The Zookeeper” because I look after the animal here.  Now give them back. Girl, you’re not even doing a good job of hiding what you stole.”

 After acting dumb, the two slobs gav up  the brass ducks known as the “Bookends.”

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WASHINGTON POST POLITICAL INVESTIGATIONS EDITOR MATEA GOLD HAD A COOLER JOB TITLE AT THE LOS ANGELES TIMES

Among the books I never thought I’d be reading during my recent two-week winter trip to Italy would have been the so-called Mueller Report, the exhaustive 448-page hunt for collusion and other shit with Russia by then-candidate Donald  Trump in the 2016 election  If I was locked up in the SHU at Pelican Bay and it was the only book in the cell, I’d probably read it.  

But, here I am, seven days into a getaway with my girlfriend Nancy in a 14th century hilltop town in Umbria overlooking Lake Trasimeno where Hannibal Barca wiped out 15,000 Roman soldiers in 217 B.C., and where I go to escape America and, having wrapped Michael Connelly’s latest on the airplane ride here and rushed through Lee Child’s Blue Moon in a personal best six days, I looked at what else I brought, cased the ripe bookcases here and, lo and behold,  decided to give the Washington Post’s illustrated version a shot.

Before I get to the book, let me explain, at some length, why I was even considering reading the Post’s 234 page paperback version. The reason  boils down to two words. One of them is Gold and the other is Matea.

Matea Gold, my friend of about 25 years (damn, Matea, quarter centuries fly by) had sent me the Mueller Report to me from her base at the Washington Post  where she is the National Political Enterprise and Investigations Editor. These times? That’s a cool job.

I met Matea when she had another cool job. Maybe even cooler.

This was back in the mid-1990s at the Los Angeles Times when Matea was the East L. A, Bureau Chief and I, who shared a two-top pod with her, was the Watts Bureau Chief.  We were both stringers back then and anointed ourselves those tough titles, though several staffers at the paper including our editors Bob Baker and Ed Boyer and some reporters often went along for the ride and called us that.  

To us, these two beats, East L.A., along with Boyle Heights, and Watts, along with South Central, were the thriving, rough and lonely, too-often forgotten, essential hearts of our city. We cruised those streets in search of stories not found on the City News Service wire or from cop calls. For example, in 1997, I wrote a story about a rose garden in Watts, (“Blooming of a Dream”) https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1997-01-01-me-14548-story.html and Matea wrote about crime going down in Boyle Heights (“In Hollenbeck, Crime Statistics Aren’t Needed”) https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1997-06-03-me-65061-story.html.

Our pods were not powerfully located in the City Room. They were off to a distant side, like our beats, hidden even from view of City Editor Bill Boyarsky’s desk – which he once famously stood atop to rally the troops in face of cooperate motherfuckers trying to slime into the newsroom  – by a large pillar on which health and benefits flyers were posted and ignored by the staff. To bottom it off, we sat about six feet from the entrance to the bathrooms.

But, like our beats, we turned that undesirable location completely around.  It went from a barrio and a ghetto pod to a desirable location.

Hold on. I’ll get to that Mueller book.

One of our first moves to upgrade our banished pod was that pillar. We tore down the ignored flyers about useless things like health and benefits and replaced them with photographs from the staff that didn’t make the paper. We had a closer relationship with photography department than anyone at the paper. I spent more time in the photo lab, mainly flirting with the great conflict photojournalist Carolyn Cole, than any journalist in the newsroom, even Calvin Hom and he was the assignment editor. So we, well, mainly Matea, came up with that idea get the photographers to post their unpublished photos of assignments on our pillar. The Wall, we called it.

The first one exhibit on The Wall was five or six shots from a series staff photographer Kirk McCoy did on black cowboys. Once that was up and popular, it became something of an honor to be on our Wall. We got stuff from Carolyn, Genaro Molina, Gary Friedman, Larry Ho, Anacleto Rapping, Luis Sinco, Clarence Williams, Perry Riddle, Robert Gauthier.

The staffers’ stop to the bathroom soon included a layover at our photograph Wall and a conversation with Matea and me. One memorable time, Rick Meyer, aka “The Great One”, aka Richard E. Meyer, stopped by, looked at our photo Wall and then complemented me on a story about Hells Angel leader Sonny Barger, “Good story about the Angels, Mike. How does Barger do it?” https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1997-jul-07-mn-10485-story.html   I’ll never forget that. I didn’t even know he knew my name.

And the coup de grace of Matea and my pod was food. In particular, barbecue. I would go once a month to the two best rib joints in the city, Phillips’ BBQ in Leimert Park and Woody’s on Slauson and stash the cardboard box of beef or pork ribs - mixed sauce – in my top desk drawer. (Yeah, I had traded the classic journalists’ stash of a bourbon in the desk drawer for ribs.  But, don’t discount me. I’d return to the old school bottle soon enough.) People would come by, enticed by the waft, and inquire. I’d simply pull out my drawer and offer them a rib.  One time I was talking to legendary 89 Family Swan Bloods leader Big Evil who called collect from Men’s Central, when Bob Sipchen, who would go on to win a Pulitzer for writing about mentally ill homeless people in 2002,  walked up, pulled out my drawer, took a few chomps off a rib, closed the drawer and walked off. Never said a word. Another time or two, my editor Ed Boyer enjoyed the ribs He posted so recently on Facebook after pit master Woody Phillips died.

Anyway, Matea and I had made the best of it. She became a staff writer before I did and went on to Washington, I went to Fresno and then came home to Los Angeles. We kept in touch throughout the years. I went to her wedding in Sonoma and admired the rise of her career. I never been to the Post, but I’m sure she has a powerful desk, or even office, but no way could it be as cool as our pod.  Long live East L.A. and Watts.

Now this book. Get it. Read it. It’s fascinating, enlightening and even entertaining. It’s as fast a read as Connelly or Child. I say it again. The Mueller Report, at least the one illustrated and edited by Matea Gold, is entertaining.

If it came out back in the day, Matea and I would’ve put it up on The Wall.

PASTRY'S SHIRI NAGAR WINS MOZZA EMPLOYEE OF THE YEAR AWARD

Until today, if you Googled the words “Shiri Nagar” what came up was “Srinagar”. Say what, my Nagar?

Yeah, this Srinagar turns out to be the largest city and the summer capital of the Indian union of Jammu and Kasimir. But, when you Google her name later today, you’ll get the real Shiri Nagar, the winner of the first ever Mozza Employee of the Year Award, known as the “Nancy”,

Six days ago, when she was still an Indian city, Shiri said she wished whoever won was someone who had never been to - or couldn’t afford to go to - the Ojai Valley Inn, the grand prize for winning the Nancy. It was likely that attitude helped earn her the victory.

While everyone nominated was a valuable Mozza team member, most of them scored well in their own departments, according to exit polls. Nagar, however, was picked in every quadrant of the Corner, garnering votes from Pizzeria, Osteria, Chi Spacca, 2Go, the Office and Pastry.

Shiri Shoshana Nagar was born June 20, 1992 in Aleppo, Syria and attended the Hole In The Wall Elementary School where she excelled in bomb dodging. However, by the 6th grade she was hanging with the wrong crowd and her parents moved to Fallujah, Iraq on Nov, 2004. I think we all know now that wasn’t a wise move.

During a cease- fire there, the Nagar family rushed  to L.A.. Shiri then attended Van Nuys High where she learned to say “fuck you” in several languages. 

After a stint at Tavern in Brentwood, she joined Dahlia Narvaez’ elite Mozza Pastry Squad (MPS) on Feb. 4th, 2014 and quietly went about her business. She gained fame in the summer of 2016 when she created what many food writers  – including Ruth Reichl - hailed as the “most refreshing dish of the year”, the Cucumber Mint Lime Sorbetto, affectionately known as the “Cumcumber”.

Later that year, Shiri was named Employee of the Month. After winning the EOM, Nagar seemed to grow in confidence and began using the language skills she picked up at Van Nuys High.

As the Employee of the Year, Shiri wins two nights lodging at the Ojai Valley Inn, where Nancy hosts master culinary events annually. She also gets a WWF Style Championship Belt, a bottle of something, and a trip to Watts.where she will tour the Watts Towers, have a Hawkins House of Burgers dish called the “Leaning Tower of Watts and, hopefully, get home .

PASTRY'S SHIRI NAGAR WINS MOZZA EMPLOYEE OF THE YEAR AWARD

Until today, if you Googled the words “Shiri Nagar” what came up was “Srinagar”. Say what, my Nagar?

Yeah, this Srinagar turns out to be the largest city and the summer capital of the Indian union of Jammu and Kasimir. But, when you Google her name later today, you’ll get the real Shiri Nagar, the winner of the first ever Mozza Employee of the Year Award, known as the “Nancy”,

Six days ago, when she was still an Indian city, Shiri said she wished whoever won was someone who had never been to - or couldn’t afford to go to - the Ojai Valley Inn, the grand prize for winning the Nancy. It was likely that attitude helped earn her the victory.

While everyone nominated was a valuable Mozza team member, most of them scored well in their own departments, according to exit polls. Nagar, however, was picked in every quadrant of the Corner, garnering votes from Pizzeria, Osteria, Chi Spacca, 2Go, the Office and Pastry.

Shiri Shoshana Nagar was born June 20, 1992 in Aleppo, Syria and attended the Hole In The Wall Elementary School where she excelled in bomb dodging. However, by the 6th grade she was hanging with the wrong crowd and her parents moved to Fallujah, Iraq on Nov, 2004. I think we all know now that wasn’t a wise move.

During a cease- fire there, the Nagar family rushed  to L.A.. Shiri then attended Van Nuys High where she learned to say “fuck you” in several languages. 

After a stint at Tavern in Brentwood, she joined Dahlia Narvaez’ elite Mozza Pastry Squad (MPS) on Feb. 4th, 2014 and quietly went about her business. She gained fame in the summer of 2016 when she created what many food writers  – including Ruth Reichl - hailed as the “most refreshing dish of the year”, the Cucumber Mint Lime Sorbetto, affectionately known as the “Cumcumber”.

Later that year, Shiri was named Employee of the Month. After winning the EOM, Nagar seemed to grow in confidence and began using the language skills she picked up at Van Nuys High.

As the Employee of the Year, Shiri wins two nights lodging at the Ojai Valley Inn, where Nancy hosts master culinary events annually. She also gets a WWF Style Championship Belt, a bottle of something, and a trip to Watts.where she will tour the Watts Towers, have a Hawkins House of Burgers dish called the “Leaning Tower of Watts and, hopefully, get home .

WATTS WOMAN, 79, HIT BY A BUS TWO DAYS AFTER RECEIVING ROSA PARKS AWARD

Incredibly, that is not a headline from “The Onion.”

On the evening of Nov. 7, Wajeha Bilal of Watts was honored at a downtown L. A,  hotel by the Women’s Transportation Seminar, (WTS) , Los Angeles Chapter, with the Rosa Parks Diversity Leadership Award for her community advocacy and action.

Two days later, while delivering food in the morning to the homeless and hungry on East 103rd Street, Wajeha, 79 years-old, was hit by a bus and suffered a fractured pelvis.  

Let that sink in a couple seconds. She gets the Rosa Parks Award then 36 hours later she is struck down by a bus.  I’m not making this up.

Friday, I visited her at St. Francis Medical Center in Lynwood and, though still in pain and facing a long rehabilitation, was better than I thought she’d be. We even laughed when I told her “Your face is still beautiful” and she replied “Oh, get out of here, Krikorian.”

Let me go back 22 years to a day in Watts when Wajeha calmed my nerves as I was led to what I thought would be, if not my doom, at least a good ass kickin’. (Warning; its’s a kinda long tale. )

On November 15, 1997, a beloved resident of the Jordan Downs housing project, domaine of the notorious Grape Street Crips, was shot to death by police officers from the LAPD’s almost-as-notorious Southeast Division. Darryl “Cubby” Hood, 40,  trippin’ dangerously on a cigarette laced with crack and PCP, was slashing himself with two steak knives when he was shot to death by the cops. As one Jordan Downs resident told me  “The po-lice didn’t want him to hurt himself, so they killed him.”  The story appeared in the Times Metro section.  

A week later, I wrote a another story, this one about a march on that Southeast station protesting Chubby’s shooting in which the following appeared; “Four members of the Grape Street Crips, the street gang that rules Jordan Downs, said as the march passed through the project that they plan to ambush officers.

“We are taking their threats very seriously,” said Deputy Chief J.I. Davis, commander of the LAPD’s South Bureau. “Jordan Downs has been the most active project this year.”  

Here is that story https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1997-nov-23-me-56918-story.html

The morning the story ran, Nov. 23, 1997, I got a call from Daude Sherrills, son of Wajeha and himself a prominent figure in Jordan Downs, instrumental in the 1992 Watts Gang Peace Treaty between Grape Street Crips, PJ Crips from Imperial Courts and Bounty Hunter Bloods from Nickerson Gardens.

I still vividly recall what he said on the phone. “Your ghetto pass has been revoked.”

Fuck. That was what set me apart from other reporters at the paper, I had access to Grape Street, the PJs and Bounty Hunters day and night ( not that the big shot editors gave a shit and half about that part of town ). But, to me, that was vital.

I couldn’t still. Armed with that very Metro section, I drove to Grape Street, revoked ghetto pass be damn.  There, with Daude Sherrills and four or five guys from Grape, I argued my point that for them to tell their side of stories, I needed to be here. They angrily complained that the quote about the ambush had instantly put extreme police pressure on them with constant patrols and harassment. As if to prove their point, an LAPD plain wrap cruised by.

I countered with one of the dumbest statements I have ever made, and something that - to this day - makes me realize I am capable of true stupidity.  I said “I have the paper right in the car. Let’s go read it.”

Forrest Gump got nothing on me.   

So there, in the bowels of Jordan Downs on 99th Place, we walked – or forced marched - to my car parked on 102nd. With each step,  I cursed myself for saying what I said. The paper in my car would prove exactly what they were complaining about. In black and white print I was proving their point.

One of the youngins’, to make a name for themselves, was likely to attack me. Maybe two or three of them. As I was within about 60, 70 feet from my car, I saw Wajeha on the four-by-four-foot slab of concrete that passed as her porch for 61 years in these projects, her head wrapped, as always,  in a pretty scarf.  She didn’t smile at me.  She didn’t sneer. But, she had this serene look, a look I have long thought best describes her; Serenity amid the chaos. That looked calmed me. Her serenity came my way. I felt no fear.

At the car, I showed them the paper, and rallied, saying that damning line was said “on the record”, even after I warned them. I argued “I’m a reporter, not a spokesperson for anyone.”  I think, I like to think, I increased my cred that day. My ghetto pass was reinstated.

##

At St. Francis, after our greeting Wajeha told me about her encounter with a wayward bus.

“That bus rolled me up like a tortilla” she said without a smidgen of humor.

The following is from the WTS website.

“The WTS-LA Rosa Parks Diversity Leadership Award is bestowed on who stands up for what’s right, no matter what the consequences may be, one who shows absolute determination and ability to do what is right. This year WTS recognizes community activist Wajeha Bilal for being that person.

Dedicated passionately to her community, Bilal lives, works, and volunteers in her community. A member of Metro’s NextGen Bus Study Working Group—an entity focused on providing guidance on the redesign of Metro’s entire bus network—Bilal ensures that the concerns of her community have voice in the proceedings. A tireless advocate, she’s a community leader who has contributed mightily and selflessly to promote public transportation for Hispanic and African-American families. She’s also a “travel buddy” in Metro’s On the Move Riders Program, reaching out to older adults to ease use and safety of mass transit. Additionally, she actively supports Metro’s Rail Safety Ambassadors, who are assigned to observe and report issues along the rail system. For many, that would be enough. Not for Bilal.

In addition to her vital work in transportation, Bilal also facilitates outreach for the Watts Gang Task Force, advising residents on how to contact and interact with the LAPD and Transit Security to seek assistance. Bilal uses her training to cultivate diverse, collaborative, cross-section outreach in her community. That includes mentoring Hispanic and African-American women on how to save and secure funding, dress for success, and obtain licenses and permits for small business.

Finally, Bilal founded the Build Plus Community Market Place. Located at the Metro Blue Line 103rd Street Station, the Build Plus Community Market Place is a non-profit that promotes the general welfare and economic development of low-income people in Watts. It has been internationally recognized as a model for this type of vital outreach. In addition, she also helped establish both state and national recognition for the Watts Towers.

###

For the past two years, Bilal, aka “The Queen”, has been feeding the homeless and the hungry once a month near the  Blue Line Subway stop at 103rd Street in Watts, a short walk from the Watts Towers. One Nov. 9th she took some greens and sweet potatoes fired tilapia, fried potatoes with onions. rolled turkey smothered with gravy. There were roughly 70 to 80 people there waiting to feast.

After she dropped the food off, she went to move her van when she saw a double MTA bus – that bus with the accordion in the middle  - heading east on 103rd right near the railroad tracks. Before she stepped off the curb to get to her driver’s door, she made sure to make eye contact with the bus driver. Their eyes met and Wajeha put her right hand up to signal she was stepping out.

But the bus driver did not slow, and Wajeha says he even accelerated as he came toward her.

“Oh, no.” Oh, my God”, she thought.  Too late, Then it was splatter city, as the bus’ front side rammed into her side, fracturing her pelvis, two ribs and more bruises and sent her rolling. “Yeah he rolled me like a tortilla. I could hear my bones crackin’.”

Bystanders dashed to her. The bus stopped. The rear bus door, the door that a Rosa Parks would have been closest to, opened up and pinned her even more against the car. People working frantically, freed her. Fortunately, a  fire department truck was going by and stopped and rushed her to St. Francis.

Wajeha, mother of 10 – plus a whole lot more folks in and around Jordan Downs who call her Queen – faces a long rehabilitation. She has plenty of visitors and is getting plenty more calls from lawyers.

“Ok, Krikorian, thanks for coming by,” she said as I was leaving her hospital room. “Try ‘n stay outta trouble.”

Osteria Mozza Defeats Pizzeria Mozza In Game #2 of Chicken Time World Series

After their opening loss to Pizzeria at the Mozza Chicken Time World Series, most experts thought Thursday’s  game  #2 was a “must win”  for the younger Osteria team. So it came as somewhat of a surprise when Osteria manager Sal Jaramillo handed to kitchen over to a relative newcomer, Diego Guachiac, for the second game of the World Series.

But, Guachiac came through, delivering a masterful performance with a stunning – and surprising - Tostada de Tinga, known to most black, white and Asian peoples as “chicken on one of those hard tortilla.”

From the opening bite, Diego’s tostada – slivers of chicken, avocado, queso fresco, pinto beans, lettuce topped with salsa – impressed the tasters, many of them who had been to game one.

“I love this, “ said Nancy, (or was that Natasha?) as she wolfed down her second Diego tostada.

The Pizzeria, after their stunning Game #1 victory, came back with chicken thighs again, but this time without the bone that many observers felts was the deciding factor yesterday.

In the Osteria kitchen, manager Sal was fast to credit Diego saying, “Diego can deliver in an important game.”

 In the Pizzeria, yesterday’s winning pitcher Ruben Martinez had no comment.

Neither did Raul Ramirez-Valdiva who cooked  for Osteria in game one’s loss.. Raul pretended to be more interested in watching Halloween related videos than the game .

 Game Three is scheduled for tomorrow at 11 a.m. with Pizzeria batting first. Osteria will bat at 11:30 a.m. The game is sold out.

.

PIZZERIA MOZZA BEATS OSTERIA MOZZA AT STAFF MEAL "CHICKEN TIME" SHOWDOWN

BY Jimmy Dolan, MOZZA TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER

As players prepared for Game Seven of the World Series in Houston, another championship was unfolding Wednesday on the Mozza Corner of Los Angeles as Ruben Martinez of Pizzeria went thigh-to-thigh with Raul Ramirez-Valdiva of the Osteria for the “Chicken Time Championship”  When it was over and the ballots counted, it was a stunning – and close - win for Ruben and the Pizzeria. 

Martinez took the victory with a quiet pride, choosing not to boast, as no doubt Pizzeria sous chef Ben Giron would have. “Thank you,” Martinez said with a smile to a reporter, and then gave credit to the guajillo peppers he used. And the roaring wood fire of the Pizzeria’s oven.

The voting, cast in secret, was extremely close, with Pizzeria edging out Osteria 13-12. Many tasters did not want to be quoted, but said off the record thought it was the “bone-in” of Pizzeria’s thighs that put it over the edge. A few weren’t bashful.

“The chicken was dark-skinned and tender inside,” said manager Alan “Rocky” Birnbaum, who made it clear he was talking about Ruben’s thighs, not those of Kenyan actress Lupita Nyong’o.

Some Mozza staffers thought PIzzeria had a not-so-secret ingredient - bones. “They were both outstanding, but I love the bone” said pastry kitchen supervisor Cecily Feng. Seeking to clarify that line, she added “Well, the bone does add flavor and tenderness.”

 Raul took the news with class and vowed to win next time. “Congratulations to Ruben,” Raul said. “I’ll get him next time.”

Ruben Martinez and his staff chicken thighs

Raul’s chicken for Osteria Mozza staff lunch

To “Black Sam" A Letter to Nipsey Hussle's Brother From Imprisoned Rollin' 60s Peacemaker Mustafa, aka Li'l Cat

NOTE - About 25 years ago I met “Li’l Cat”, once aka Brian Long, now aka Mustafa. He was from Rollin’ 60s and he had realized the futility of black gang on black gang violence and began, with a few others, to start a movement to end the relentless cycle of bloodshed in Los Angeles, particularly on the black Westside.

I wrote about him in a 1998 L.A. Times story when he and community activist Malik Spellman - along with Mustafa’s older brother Kevin “Big Cat” Doucette - spoke to warring Blood factions who were battling each other in Inglewood. Here’s that story. https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1998-apr-05-me-36267-story.html (And yes, that wasn’t a typo. it was Crips mediating a Bloods - Inglewood Family, Neighborhood Piru - battle.)

Two years earlier, writer David Ferrell wrote about him in a Times article entitled “A Dogged Pursuit of Peace on the Streets” Here’s is that piece https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1996-08-10-mn-32953-story.html

Mustafa stumbled many years later and wound up in prison for an attempted. The district attorney’s office went back to a 1979 barber shop robbery he was convicted of when 18 years old and struck him out. We’ve remained friends. I always thought an often pathetic trait of many gang members was how they forgot their imprisoned so-called homies. I’ve been to hoods from Watts to Compton to Southwest L.A. where gang members ask me about their owe homeboys locked up. I usually reply with “Why don’t you write him? I’m sure he’d appreciate that. ” If you’ve read this far,, LI’l Cat’s mailing address is at the bottom. of this piece.)

Anyway, I wrote to Li’l Cat recently and he sent me back a letter and also a letter to Nipsey Hussle’s brother, Black Sam. I asked him if it was okay to print some of it and he gave me the approval. Here it is, in part..

Sept. 14, 2019

Black Sam.

Peace & respect and my deepest condolences on the loss of our beloved Nipsey Hussle. My name from the turf is Li’l Cat. My brother is Big Cat. I’ve been locked behind enemy lines for the past 18 years. The young homie Nipsey was about 15 years old when I got locked up. However we have a lot in common. I, too was a community activist like Nips. I also grew up on 3rd Ave down the block from 59th Street School. My young comrade out there was Kev Mac who spends time up there at Marathon.

The reason and purpose I’m gettin at you, besides paying respects, is to let you know that your brother was a divine soul. sent with a spiritual purpose, which he accomplished.

I first heard of Nip when I was in Pelican Bay back in early 2007 or 2008. I was proud to hear a young homie speaking my turf language. Glad to hear someone speaking what we go through trying to survive. in these grimy cutthroat “Sixty NHC” streets.

However, when I left the streets, I had changed my thought process about our conditions and how much damage was attributed to the racial system and how much self perpetuated.

My change in outlook occurred when I was doing a violation from my first state prison term. I had paroled in 87, went back for a violation in ‘88. I was in San Quentin and got word that two of my closest road dogs, “Big Fee” and Li’L Looney” were killed. I prepared to come out on a homicidal murder spree. But, I was devastated to learn that the homicides were committed by so-called “homies”. That was the beginning of the Front hood-Overhill wars. in which several lives had been lost. I had to do a lot of soul searching at that point. Murdering my so-called own homies was not what I signed up for. Burying loved ones who were killed by loved ones was an oxymoronic thing that had no future for anyone.

I became discontented with the hood politics and went on some Black militant type shit, complete with black fatigues, boots and working out., running with pit bulls, fully strapped for anybody.

Then the Rodney King beating and not -guilty verdict and the riots of ‘92 had me on the re-build the black community trip, had me on the pro blackness trip. .I spoke in front of the City Council about the lack of justice for Blacks, the lack of programs for the youth, the lack of job opportunities which would cut down on drug dealing and gang activities.

Then Jim Brown called me to his compound in the Hollywood Hills about a business opportunity. They wanted to put a shoe store/community center in the Sixties on Florence. Two brothers from Grape Street, Ray Ray and High T, were involved, but the location in the Sixties would need some reputable Sixies involved. That’s how we started the Playground Sportswear and Community Center. Myself and the homie Kieta Rock hosted Bill Clinton there.

Then I started doing the Westside version of the Truce they had in Watts. we started getting recognition for that and was bringing homicide rates down on the Westside. Reporters were doing stories ( see above ) about our desire to stop the black-on-black killings. The police was at odds with us cause they wanted credit for saving the lives, when they were the ones instigating the feuds.

I started studying and learning that Blacks are not natural enemies of one another, but we are a spiritual Godly people. ( John 10- 32-35) “Ye are Gods”, ( {Psalms 82-6) “God came among the Assembly of Gods.”

Nipsel Hussle came among among the Assembly of Gods, but they had no knowledge of self. Still he remained to show and prove by example the power of redemption and transformation. Black Sam, your brother was a shining example of building bridges and focusing on taking care of the community and those in it. He accomplished what I was attempting to do for the hood. I thank the universe for the God “Nips the Great”.

Nipsey’s music will continue to inspire all those who desire to “RISE” up from the cutthroat grimy conditions. (R.I.S.E. was the name of my organization, Raising Intelligent Strong Economics), He showed that those of us misunderstood and labeled Hoodstas and Thugs,all have a spiritual purpose in this brief life, Like he so introspectively stated “You can walk on water, just don’t look at your feet.” Basically, we are a strong spiritual people and can do whatever we set our mind to Just don’t doubt yourself.”

One of the most poignant songs that made me realize his divine spirit is “Who Detached Us”

Black Sam,

Thank you for your time, with love & respect. Long live the spirit of Nipsey Hussle,

Your big homie, Cat2, aka Mustafa Nakhi Allah

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There is more to this letter, but I’ll get it to Black Sam

This link has the lyrics to Who Detached Us” - https://genius.com/Nipsey-hussle-who-detached-us-lyrics

To write to Brian Li’l Cat Mustafa Long address letters like this:

Brian Anthony Long T-72027, Valley State Prison, P.O. Box 92, Chowchilla, Calif. 93610-0092

Money can be sent through jpay.com

Mustafa aka Li’l Cat