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Vato Maldito: My Life of Crime by John "Bubbles" Gallegos, edited by Raoul Vehill

raoul vehill

19

 

My brother Sam was at the bus terminal, in Denver, to meet me. He gave me a couple of ounces of cocaine so that I could get back on my feet again. He offered to let me stay at his house in the mountains above Boulder. "In fact, I would appreciate it if you would stay there to take care of the house for me, because I hardly ever stay there."

 

I thought about it for a few moments. Then I said, "I'm sorry, Sam.  I can't stay up there. I don't know anyone up there, or in Boulder. I have to be in familiar surroundings."

 

He drove to the Pino  brothers' house where I had been staying before I was taken back to prison, some months earlier. The eldest had been in the process of remodeling the house and adding a garage and car port that was large enough for at least a dozen vehicles. He had also added a fence that was about 8 feet high around the entire house. Privacy indeed. People could not see into the property from the street. It was a virtual fort. I was very impressed.

 

"Man, Mr. D.," I said. "You must have spent a bundle remodeling this place. It must have cost you well ever a hundred and fifty Gs."

 

Before I went back to prison some months earlier, I had hooked him up with my lawyer, David M., the lawyer whose house David C. had been hiding out from my brother Sam in, back in 1981. Somehow, Mr. D., the Pinos' father in law, and David M. had scammed some Columbian coke dealers who were then in Federal Prison, whom David M. had under taken an appeal for. Mr. D. had also been in prison with the Columbians who had provided the funds to build and remodel the property.

 

I never did get the details of how Mr. D. and David M. had pulled of the scam. But the lawyer was living in L.A., or hiding out more likely. I missed out on the scam because I had been in prison. After I settled down at the fortress, Mr. D. told me, "John, I want you to join our family. You lived here last year when were buying and rebuilding old cars. We're still doing that." Mr. D. said, "I recently borrowed 20 grand from the Diegos on the north side. I want to invest in heroin. I know that you are familiar with the Mexican Mafia."

 

"Not really," I said. "There is a Mexican Mafia that's based in California's prison system. It's known as "el Geme" on the outside. They're based in L.A.. There's another group known as la Familia, which also originated in the prison system, mostly in northern California on the outside. I know a few of them from when I was in Folsom and Susanville. That was over 20 years ago. I know some people in Mexicali, but it's been almost 10 years since I've dealt with them. I know a few Mexicans right here in town, but their prices are outrageous. Anyone we buy from locally, the price will be very high."  I continued, "We can go to L.A. but it might take me a few days to make a buy. Or we can go to Mexicali, but I've been out of touch there for a decade."

 

We finally decided to buy locally. The first buy we made was from a guy named Alex. He charged us $5000 dollars for a little over $5000 worth of very pure heroin. I thought 5 Gs was too much. But it wasn't my money. Mr. D. was anxious to get started. We were still buying and refurbishing old cars. We even leased a lot in Westwood, in the southwest part of Denver.

 

I was the principal buyer and seller of the heroin. Mr. D.'s two brothers, Mitch and Tony, would refurbish and repair the automobiles we purchased. I was turning in at least $1000 dollars a day. Mr. D. was supposedly banking the money to pay off the $2O,000 dollars that we owed to the Diegos in the north side.

 

A cousin of Mr. D., Victor, had supposedly put up his mobile home as collateral for the loan. Victor claimed to be a Yaqui Indian, and a sorcerer of that people's ancient religion. I was familiar with the rites that the Yaquis practiced through Ezekiel, for whom I had muled drugs in the mid to late'60s. Ezekiel claimed to be a Curandero, a person in possession of herbal remedies and magical healing powers to cure various illnesses and such. Though Ezekiel and Victor told me that they believed I also had such abilities, I would not even know how to begin to practice their religious beliefs, much less actually try to heal people.

 

When I had won the appeal concerning the violation of my parole, I had been assigned the same parole officer who revoked it. When I was re-paroled,  I was supposed to report to him, but I didn't. In those days a parole violator could bail out while awaiting a parole hearing. The parole officer subsequently issued an order for my arrest because I hadn't reported. I was arrested one night while driving down Santa Fe drive.

 

I called Mr. D. from the County Jail. "Tio," he said. "You have to come back home. Everything is falling apart. The family, the business, no money coming in. We can't even buy anything. The connects won't sell to us. We need you out here, Tio."

 

"Well Mr. D.," I said. "My bond is only $5000 dollars. You have to scrape up $500 or $600 somehow."

 

Mr. D. said, "I'll see if I can hock a few things I have. I think I can raise the money."

 

Two days later I was bailed. Mr. D. was waiting for me in the parking lot of the jail. I called Alex, the connection we had been buying from. "I had to sell my stereo and TV and some guns to get the money for your bail," said Mr. D. as we waited for Alex to deliver a consignment of drugs.

 

Soon, we were a couple of thousand in debt to Alex. Mr. D. was partying nightly spending our money on cocaine and booze with the ladies.

 

We had stolen a real nice 4 X 4 Ford pickup. We had an acquaintance who worked at a junkyard. I bought a title for the same year and model Ford pickup which had been totaled in a collision and shredded. We painted it and used the title for our pickup. We gave it to Alex to help pay off our debt. We also gave Adolfo, one of Alex's runners, a nice Chevy Nova.

 

I had to go for a parole revocation hearing. Victor, the self proclaimed  Yaqui sorcerer, drove me to the hearing. On the way to the courthouse he asked me how I thought the hearing would go. "From past experience, my parole will be revoke and I'll be sent back to prison to finish off my sentence, maybe for another year and a half or so," I said.

 

Victor said, "If that happens, John, this family is pretty much finished as far as making money goes. I could lose my mobile home to the Italians. While you are in the hearing I'll be sitting out in the hallway praying for you. My power feels very strong right now."

 

I walked into the hearing room, and sat down at my appointed seat. I sat across from me Mr Z., the Chairman of the Board, and Mr. G., the co-chairman, and the parole agent to whom I was supposed to have reported when I was released. The parole agent related to the two board members the nature of the charges against me, then added his recommendation that I be taken back to prison for the remainder of my sentence.

 

Mr Z. asked, "How do you plead to these charges,  Mr. Gallegos?"

 

I said, "Guilty sir, with an explanation."

 

"And what would that be?" asked Mr. G..

 

I proceeded, "The very first time my parole was revoked, in October of 1977, I did not even get out. I, and two other parolees, Mike 0. and Raymond M., were arrested on the grounds of the Colorado State Hospital. Subsequently, my parole was revoked, while the two other parolees were released. My parole should not have been revoked then, as revocation is a form of double jeopardy I was reparoled in 1978. Charges for possession of drugs were still pending on me for the charges for which my parole had been revoked. Again in 1979 my parole was revoked for not reporting. While I was in prison for that revocation, the charges against me in Pueblo were dismissed. I was re-paroled in 1981. In 1982, my parole was again revoked, because Daryl C., supercop, called my parole officer and told him that I was sitting on a mountain of drugs, which had come out of an armed robbery. But on appeal, the Parole Board reinstated my parole. I was sent back to prison n 1983 because I would not get on antabuse. My parole on that occasion was reinstated on appeal once again, and I was set free. I stand here today charged with not reporting, a charge I admit. But there are mitigating circumstances in regard to as why I did not report. I was given the very same parole officer who had previously had my parole revoked because I would not take antabuse. Having the same parole officer whose revocation I had overturned on appeal seemed a recipe for disaster. Even had I reported, I would more than likely be before you like this on some other trumped up charge.  I offer this mitigating factor as grounds to effect the continuance of my parole and as grounds to have this charge dismissed."

 

I leaned back in my chair and noticed everyone in the room was staring at me in openmouthed awe. After awhile Mr. Z. asked if anyone had anything more to ad to the hearing.

 

"Mr. Gallegos," said Mr. Z.. "I'm going to go ahead and dismiss the charges against you. And furthermore, I m going to go ahead and release you from parole, which means you are free to go. You are no longer on parole."

 

About a week later, I had another hearing for a D.U.I. which I had been in jail for before the revocation.  When my name was called I stood and faced the Judge.

 

"Are you ready to start your trial today?" the Judge asked.

 

"No your honor, I am not. I had no idea this matter was set for trial today," I replied.

 

The Judge said, "Well Mr. Gallegos, where have you been? This matter is over a year old."

 

"Your honor," I responded, "I just recently was released from prison. I didn't even know the case was still active."

 

"Why were you in prison, Mr. Gallegos?" asked the judge.

 

"Actually your honor, my parole was revoked because of this charge I am appearing in Court right now for. Because I refused to get on the antabuse program stemming in part from this charge snce I felt it was unwarranted, even though my parole officer insisted that I do so, I was sent back to prison. Thus my parole was revoked. I appealed the revocation successfully, and was released after serving about 100 days in prison. As I see it your honor, I have already been punished for this charge I am appearing I am appearing for here today. I have no lawyer to represent me, so I must proceed pro se. So I tender orally a motion to dismiss, on the grounds that any further punishment would constitute double jeopardy, a violation of my rights guaranteed by the Constitution of the United States," I explained.

 

The judge considered what I said. Then he took a 15 minute recess. I guess the recess was to call the Parole Board to check the authenticity of my statements. The judge reconvened Court, and all my charges were dismissed.

 

Victor, the warrior-sorcerer who had driven me to the Courthouse, attributed the fact that the charges against me had been dismissed to his power and prayer. By law, the Court had no other option. But if it puffed up Victor's ego, that was fine with me.

 

 

VATO MALDITO: My Life of Crime, by John "Bubbles" Gallegos

Now Available!!! from Enlightened Pyramid

A notorious Denver professional criminal tell his story in his own words. Armed robbery, addiction and hard time are just the tip of the ice berg in this career thief's autobio.

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