Chicago, one thing about that city is that it honors its gangsters!! Now, when I say gangsters “for sake of explanation,” too many of you who don’t understand. I’m not talking about the which way you wear your hat kind of cats. No, not that kind. I’m talking buddy, those Al Capone, George Davis, Thomas Setterson, Daley kind of dudes. And oh man it's me “Fontane”!! By all means of respect and acknowledgment, I do rep all the icons as so desired mentioned in this bio, my book, my movie about my life, but let’s get back to the beginning.
IaminwhereverIamgodis!!Icanbenowhereheisnot.AsfarbackasIcanremember,I startinCabriniGreens.630W.Evergreen.Ireallydon ’tevenrememberthesurroundingsof thatlocation.AllIrememberisit ’sjustthefirstaddressIremembered.Whymymothertold metorememberthat?Yourguessisjustasgoodasmine.Allkidsrememberthesmallest
thingscomingup.AndImustsaythegreensbringbackthosememories.
“Don’t Mess with Bill” was a really famous hit song. I love hearing it ring out of every open window when it came on the radio. This is the 70s for real for real. I love that song and sang it in my room as I watched the kids play and have fun out the 11th floor apartment. Yeah I was on punishment for something. What I did I can’t remember, but I do remember that everything I did kept me on punishment. OK I did a lot. I was a kid. Bad as hell. Curse, look up lil girls' dresses or beat up my brother. I did it and my mama beat my butt too.
One night she had Paul so drunk and she took all his money. I got caught watching her at work. I was supposed to have been sleeping but I watched her rob Paul and she saw me looking so she gave me $100 to keep quiet and not tell anyone. Not even my mother. Now my mother had a tradition and kept change at the door all the time for me and my brother can have money when we go outside. And not ask anyone for anything. She would beat me if I ever got caught begging anyone for anything, literally beat us. It was said to be making her look bad like she didn’t take good care of us. That’s where I get it from, not asking for nothing from anyone. Nothing. But now remember it’s the 70s. $100 was like $1000. Especially for a seven-year-old kid. If I was even that old, lol. But however, a white van pulled up to the sets and we bought candy from it. Thanks be to God he was an honest man and I could count so he never beat me out. I think knowing who my mama was had to be a major part. They always called me Pam kids. But however, I bought candy for us for weeks, all of us boys. And my pockets kept getting bigger and bigger every day.
Now I’m ducking my mom because I know she gonna ask me. But to no avail the day comes. I sounded like a change machine walking around the house. I tried to walk past with a lot of candy in my mouth. She finally stopped me before I could leave out the door. I see her look at the money she left for us at the door. She noticed I hadn’t taken any, and it was actually running over. The look on her face I couldn’t even explain. But the steam and reddish look on her face told us the whole story. I knew I was doomed. “Empty your pockets Fontane”. My name sounded like a soft horror movie. “Empty your motherfuckin pockets, I said right now ” . And she close the door on everyone, waiting. I just knew it would be a long time before I saw them again. I started to drop everything I had in my pockets on the chair. Candy and all, bills and change. Felt like I had robbed a piggy bank and dollars on a stripper. “Where did you get this money?” The question of my death sentence. Don’t tell was all I could hear in my childish mind. Don’t tell, you hear me? OK auntie “Ale”. “OK you act like you don’t hear me ” my mother yelled. “Imma ask you one more time Fontane where did you get this money?” She repeated it for the last time “Lucky go get my belt.”
“Lucky”mylittlebrother, WarrenLavellAgersJr, he’sluckyalright. Hisfatherwasa warhero, atleastenrolledinthearmy. Everyuniformadultwasaheroinakid'seyes.AndallthefatherIknewatthetime.
I loved him as my own regardless, even after learning he wasn’t my dad. Like every child I just wanted a father to call dad.
Back to the story. Anyway, like I said, “Lucky go get my belt.” It was his pleasure and so every little sibling love to inflict pain on the other siblings because of the abuse they suffer while being baby sat. This was music to his ears. “OK, mama ” Lucky said and smiled as he took off. Running to our mother's room and closet. “Which one mama?” I couldn’t believe my ears. “The black one my mama yelled back at him.” “OK mama. ”
I hear his little footsteps, wrong closer and closer. This little mother brought all the belts back in the front room, smiling from ear to ear. I said black not all of them. You next for not knowing your color is bad ass that wipe that smile right off his face.
So you just gonna stand there looking stupid Fontaine. Huh? If you can huh, you can hear did I not ask you a question. Yes ma ’ am will hung as she rolled the buckle and twisted the belt around her hand. Where did you get all this money? I just shook my head left to right. All the shit I do for you and you stealing now. No as I shook my head.
Before I knew it, I heard wind and a whistle. Then lightning struck me across my back, but an inner thigh. Her belt wrapped around my whole body and stung like a bee. I scream so loud I lost my voice and breath all at once. Whack again, with a question follow. I gained my voice and breath back and could be heard down the halls. Before I realized that I was in flight going down the hall running for cover. Started jumping up cliff off the couch. Damn babe what does shut up Nager and grab him. OK baby come here. Little mutha. Don’t curse at my son, grab him. What he do? Don’t ask me no damn question do what I said. I run to the bathroom, no way out. I think fast. I run to my room and shut the door. No lock so it didn’t matter. I jump on my brother’s bed.
It’s wet with piss and Cliff tries to grab me. God dammit, Cliff mad that now he’s wet in my brothers piss and smells horrible now. I jumped on my bed and he grabs at me. I pull away sliding down the back of my bed. Great spot. Wamp! I feel thunder on my back. My mama made it in, now the horror really setting in. Eyes bloodshot red. I don’t even recognize her face as my mother. Cliff grabs me by my ankle and pulled me from under the bed and held me down while my mother beat the mess out of me.
Pam! Pam! Peaches! My auntie Ale yelled. Cliff let him go. She demanded and grab him by the hair pulling him away from me. Why you beating him like that girl? Mind your business Pam, this my child, and the last thing I’m going to tolerate is stealing, as much as I do for him. What he steal Pam? A lot of money plum. What money Pam? What money! Pam. Instantly my auntie Ale grabbed me, covering me in protection as tears started to flow down her cheeks. Fontane I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Pam I gave him that money days ago and told him not to say a word to anyone. My aunt told the whole story with tears in her eyes as my mother stood stung. I heard the belt dropped to the floor and my mother to her knees softly saying to me why didn’t you just tell me Fontaine? Why didn’t you just tell me? She picked me up, cradled me in her arms hug tight. We lay down in my bed and cry ourselves to sleep.
Love in our house wasn’t displayed like you'd expect, but it was displayed. It taught you lessons and made you out to be something less expected.
I learned from my Mother that they are societies first true black gangsters. Everyone fear their mother so much God! Tell me I’m a lie?!
You would think that episode would’ve straightened me out. Nah, far from that buddy, far from that. That made me a monster. My mother never told me she was sorry because in her eyes she was always right, but that’s every mother right?
Gangsters never apologize for the things they do. I learned early that everything has consequences, and a price to pay, rather good or bad right or wrong. How to apply the life lessons is the true test.
I’ll never forget the first time I ran from a fight. Grammar school. Fraiser on the westside of Chicago. Freshest kid in school. The new student. My teacher seats me in a circle next to two of the classiest prettiest girls. I’m instantly hated by the bullies. It was famous to threaten someone with sign language. Bald up fist pointed to each eye, nose and lips. Word spreads throughout the class and others like a wave of summer heat, fast!
How am I going to escape this, was all I could think of. As the clock rounds down, I could feel each tick tock, tick tock in my chest. My heart raced as I feared the bell ring. Silence, with every mouth moving in the class. But I heard no one speaking. I looked at Anton like why me? He just balled his fist and pretended to be my head in the palm of his hand.
The loudest school bell ever sounded, 2:30. Let out time. We lined up to leave class. “Pussy” I can hear him whisper. Kids, laughing at me and taking his side.
As the line moved down the hall, people saying to each other that it was about to be a fight. Wow an audience! Just my luck. By the time I make it out the door everyone looked at me with expectations.
My house at the end of the block. I look and you guess right. I took off like a trackstar. Just make it to the door, just make it to the door was all I could tell myself. Every student was watching race behind me. Get him! I could hear the cheerleaders. Get him!
I made it to the door. Just my luck. The door locked. I have to be buzzed in. I frantically rang the bell repeatedly, scared as ever. Finally my mother comes to the window to see what was going on.
You done lost your damn mind boy! Why are you ringing my damn bell like that!! They are trying to get me mama. Who? As she looks good now at the kids surrounding me at the door. Oh yeah, she yelled back. You have two choices before I open the door. Huh? I couldn’t believe my ears. Choices? What’s that?
I don’t know the definition of the word. Either you turn around and beat they ass or I’m a beat yo ass when you get up here. And she slammed the window shut.
By the power of Grayskull. I turned around, like a madman, wham, wham, bam, bam, crack, slap, kick, and scream I’m a mad man. I slay Borrettes out of girls hair that didn’t have anything to do with it. Well, watching for a fight I guess was good enough. I kicked little boys down, slaps in the back of the running heads into gates. I literally started chasing the crowd by myself attack, attack, attack. I’m not the same clean kid anymore. I noticed, as I search the crowd that I didn’t see Anton to beat him up. I run back home. Ring the bell with sense now. And my mother buzz me in. The third-floor is a long way up. I notice my breath short and I’m tired. I make it to the door. My mother opens it and before I knew it, she grabbed me by my shirt pulling me close and she closed the door. Whack, whack, whack. She start beating me.
Screamingtothetopofmylungs,IyellI’msorrywhatIdop leadingformylife.Sheyelledatmy answer.I’mbeatingyourasscauseyoushouldn ’thaveraninthefirstplace.
Damnlifecan ’tbethiscomplicated.
Now before your mind, wanders and opinions favor. She abusive! I love my mama. She was beautiful, loving support all kind of Gale, woman. She was just a gangster and needed love too. And gangsters only know one way to show love, so to say. And the love she showed me was tough, I would say now. But I was her first lesson being the first born. I learned a lot from every few events before she died. Passed, leaving me at around 10 years old, with a little brother and sister, to take care of.
Everything starts at home. The streets only confirm you. They’ll either eat you alive like prey to a predator, or you’ll become a gangster. The only way to survive Chicago.
My mother made sure she brought the best out of me before I was even ready. I had no time for childhood. I had to be a curious adult before I knew when my birthday was. Wow ain’t that something to remember.
Electricity. I remember the window ledge kept everything frozen and preserved. Chicago’s Windy City.
Pulling up a chair to stand on to reach the corn flakes on top of the fridge. Telling myself, thinking out loud. I hate these things. But it was either that happily or you don’t eat, sad. I think I’ll put a smile on my face and think about the brand I wish I had ate. I knew something was wrong. Times got worse every day. When we lived in the projects, we had it all, now that we live in an apartment we can barely eat. What’s going on? Was all I could think to myself and no one gave me an answer. All I knew was, I have to do something about this. But as a kid, what?
Fontane you up and getting ready for school? Yes mama. Be good baby, ok? Yes mama see you when you get home from school. OK ma, love you. You see that cake on the counter? Yes ma ’ am.
Happy birthday baby it’s yours today is your birthday!Thankyou mama, I didn’t know!Wow December 4, 1983. I learnedmy birthday. I don't know ifthat was sad, bador common for a childnot to know that. In fact, that was the only time I remember getting a cake for the day that date.
Not that much longer anyway, I learned my last lesson. Don’t let nobody in this house, you hear me? Yes mama I responded immediately. I knew it was time to go hustle, work as they tell us. But I wasn’t that naïve. I loved being the man of the house. Taking care of my little sis and bro made me feel good.
Normally, after all the bottles was feed, my mother would be knocking on the door for me to let her in. But the sun is rising and I don’t hear the door. I continue doing my best and now the sun going down. I'm lonely and scared. This has never happened before.
I pull a chair up to the door to take the two by four off. It was how I was taught to lock and secure the doors when she left. I just want to see if she was coming up the stairs. I unlocked the door pulled the chair away and is it open. The hallway, dark and spooky. Afraid of ghost I hurry and lock it back, leaving the chair under the knob to really secure it. Then I ran to the room and grabbed my little sister. Lucky looked at me just as scared as I was and asked me did I see our mother. Nah, lay down and go to sleep, I tell him. She’ll be home in a little while.
Boom boom boom. Yes finally. But it’s the back door. Mama comes to the front. Don’t let nobody in this house. I keep hearing in my head.
Sure enough,the soundfollowedbyvoice sayopenthedoor,Fontane.Myauntie lookedthroughthewindowand sawme.I can’t,yellingback atthedoor.I’m your auntie andit’s cold openthedoor.No,I ranbackto myroom.
A little while passed. Boom, boom, boom again at the door. I know it’s not my mother, so I ignore them. This time it was my uncles. So what, I’m not going. Sounds as if men working and a loud bang, along with noise people radios walkie-talkies. Crying. Everyone rushing in the house and to our rooms. What's going on?
My mind can’t understand what’s going on. My aunts and everyone else grabbing us and rushing us out the house to awaiting cars. Why they cut my mama door out and take us. I think to myself, but remain quiet.
We make it to my aunt Vera house and we bathed, and I sit in front of the rocking chair. My cousin had my sister in her arms crying and I asked for her. I asked where my mama at. My cousin starts sobbin even louder. She gone Fontane, your mama gone. I don’t know what that means. I didn’t understand any of it. I knew she was out and as usual, but not ever gonna coming back. I didn't realize that. Still to this day I don’t accept it. It’ll take longer than I thought to see it. Until then I will live in every lesson she taught me.
Let life begin! The funeral explained it all. The reality of life and something had to be done fast set in quick. Grandma could only provide a roof over our head. There weren't any more cool clothes and everything we wanted. Mama was gone. I had to think fast, act faster. I was used to new clothes, money, and taking care of my brother and sister. And most of all I wasn’t about to disappoint my mama. Like I said, I never let go, Accepted the fact that she had passed. I lived life every day as if she was about to knock on the door for me to let her in the house. I was left responsible and I was always going to be just that. fact that she had passed. I lived live every day as if she was about to knock on the door for me to let her in the house I was left responsible and I was always going to be just that.
1219 Springfield. I admired grandma, watching her make something out of nothing. She made money you could watch, but never count. She sold quilts, clothes, dinners and even got paid for her advice. Grandma did it all. And I watched, listened and learned. At least to start my own responsibilities. Keep your business out of the streets. Do what you have to do, just don’t let nobody see you do it. You can do whatever you want, just keep the business and money to yourself. You the man of your family Fontaine. Take care of your family. I won’t be here for long.
It’s a lonely, long road one has to travel to make it to the top. And only you and you alone have to make it. Crazy thing about it is, you have to enjoy the fact it gets even lonelier because no one wants you to make it, less known celebrate it with you. Don’t worry you are not alone.
I thank God for Plum a.k.a. “Ale” my auntie/mama. This was the other half of my mother. We ran the streets together. I was her replacement for my mother’s absence now that I think about it. She would always remind me of the pack oath her and my mother shared. They promised each other if something was to happen to one of them the survivor had to take care of the kids. And my aunt loved us and kept her end until she passed also. She aced it. Given an acknowledgment and thanks.
She literally prepared the streets for us. Me and lucky, that’s a whole other story. For a fact I spoke in the beginning that she created a monster in me. She was a street dean for real for real and proud of me regardless, she most definitely was.
It wasn’t long after that, I myself ended up spending more than half of my life incarcerated. To be exact for the first time in my life since becoming old enough to go to jail. I’m 50 years old and I just celebrate. For the first time. I’ve lived 60 months straight in society. Can you imagine that? July 19, 2018 to July 19, 2023 was the first time I ever lived in society for five years straight.
It’s almost impossible for a single mother to raise and send a productive citizen into society. I guess I’m summing it up to say as statistics prove that 95% of the judicial system inmates, regardless of race, are likely fatherless children, men and women.
Once the system, Got you, it got you and I can guaranteed you it will never let you go. You continue to pay for the mistake over and over and over again. I'm still guilty for the cases I was found not guilty of. How is the judge allowing that? The system, right?
All minorities in every nationality need support growing up. They inherit strong traits to rebel against any system of authority. Being raised in the ghetto, produces the strength and once put into relation with intelligence, adulthood is then developed. Then gains what is commonly known as respect. Gangsta!
….On your doors. Miss your door, you going to the hole. B – 53066 Louis, Fontane. I gave my new identity and number 4 mail. Where else was I supposed to end up? Trapped in the system by type, echoes in your head. Every fatherless child…. home, drugs, guns or murder or all three. Clink. Close cell, nine. As bad as it may seem all of our lives are someone else’s dream.
Follow me on all platforms and follow up memoirs for more detailed true events that made my life one of a true black gangsta. Some content may not be suitable for some young, emotional or sensitive people. Remember this the life of how legends are made. Chicago’s very own true black gangsters.
I Am From
Minister Fontane Lewis
From 1219 South Springfield to 5944 South Maple Ghost Town
From crate basketball tournaments in the dust field lots next to the flukers
I am from Cabrini Grand projects, Piss smelly hallways and Echoes in the Dark
I am from the windy city where the cold air
And your nose and breathe icicles
I am from Pamela Joyce agers and Grandma Ida and Pepper
From garage sales and quilt-made hustles with Grandma
And from staying sharp and being respectful
I am from where I was always told God has a plan for you Fontane
And from being told I'd be a great leader
Because you obsessed with being a soldier
I'm from the reality of Life created by God
With a plan for everyone with faith and what you go through
I am from Presbyterian St Luke's Hospital
From chili with hamburger ground beef and super sweet Kool-Aid
From George Davidson, Boonie black
I am from where loyalty is the basis of our being, always and forever pride
From where you was taught to keep your mouth shut no matter the victim.
Innocence or not
Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb
