Journal 1

Back in the day of 1939 there once was a mob of African Americans that called themselves the Black Rascals. They lived outside of New York City. The Black Rascals where a very small but effective black crime mob family on the East Coast. This man here in the picture was a “soldier” of the Black Rascals mob. His name was Terrell Jones, but everyone called him “Rabbit” because of how fast he could run from the police. Rabbit joined the mob at the age of 9 years old and had been in the gang for 10 years. He had already been arrested too many times to count, shot three times and mixed up in the drug game for so long that he might as well been a crack baby. He stays in it not only for the pleasure the money, respect, and the drugs it gives him, but more importantly to help support his family and loved ones. Every day was the same. He would wake up and eat then go down to the city with his other gang members sell some drugs and every now and then whack a few guys that where getting in the way with the operations. On August 14 Rabbit did exactly the same thing like he did every day except for today they would run up to West New York to take over a rival gangs drug house. Rabbit ran around to the back of the house kicked down the back door and the last things he heard were a few click- clacks of the rival gangs’ guns. And in all he was just another name that was killed in the mob games.