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

Sunday, 20 December 2009 00:00 raoul vehill
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15

 

I was taken back to prison for another year. While there, a couple of guys were trying to hit me, for an incident that happened back in 1974. I was marked to be taken out, that is, killed.

 

I was living in the dormitory section of the prison. The library was across the hall from the unit in which I was housed. A group of us used to play a game called Tonk, a card game form of gambling. One day, I went to the restroom and noticed these two guys looking at me intently, from the library across the hall. Then I snapped that I had been noticing them staring at me, almost daily.  I knew one of them vaguely from the streets. He had been hanging around with Trino, a friend I had grown up with.

 

One night in '74 Trino came over to my house and wanted me to go to Utah with him and pull a couple of bank robberies. I was debating the idea and talked it over with my wife. She was totally against it and became very angry with me for even thinking about it. The next time Trino came over he was driving a real nice car. As we were cruising in it, this guy, named John B., flagged him down, and he stopped to pick him up.

 

John B. told Trino to drive to a certain bar in north Denver. On the way to the bar, John B. harangued Trino for having kept his car so long. Trino had told me earlier that the car was his, so I became a little confused. He took John B. to the bar he had wanted to go to. While we waited in the car I asked Trino, "I thought this car belonged to you. Why is this guy so angry with you?"

 

Trino said,"This guy is just a Chump."

 

As John B. returned I told Trino, "If anyone talked to me like that, I'd put a bullet in them."

 

Trino drove me home and said he would pick me up in a couple hours to go to Utah. Trino never did show up to pick me up that night. Later, while we were in prison, I asked Trino what had happened. A it turned out, he stole the car from John B. along with all of his possessions, and went to Utah.

 

Trino was allowed to go on speaking engagements from the prison to the streets on a furlough. But he returned a day late one time and was taken from the medium security we were in, to the Walls, a maximum security prison in Cañon City. The first day he was there, John B. confronted him about the car incident, and told Trino to meet him in the back of the cellhouse with his shit, which meant his knife.

 

Someone gave Trino a homemade shank and he went to the rear of the cellblock to meet John B. John B. defeated Trino in the fight, plunging a knife all the way through his torso. Trino nearly died but luckily he survived.

 

Now, because I had been with Trino that day, and because John B. believed I had been with Trino when he stole his car, it was my turn. John B. never confronted me about involvement in the incident. But I realized that John B. and his partner were creeping on me, that is, waiting for a chance to catch me by myself where they could kill me.

 

So I began carrying a weapon to defend myself, a piece of stainless steel stock, which was 18" by one" square. One blow from that would break an arm or leg, or crush a skull. I figured they would either try to strangle me or knife me.

 

I started going to the yard everyday to play handball, with my weapon always nearby. They were always in the yard also, running the track. Once, I was walking around the yard while they were jogging. A friend of mine by the name of Sonny walked with me.

 

I told him, "If I were you, Sonny, I wouldn't walk the yard with me. There are a couple of guys trying to creep in on me. I know who they are but I'm ready for them."

 

Sonny said, "Fuck this shit. I'll be right back." In a few minutes he returned and had his knife with him.

 

I told him, "Look bro, this is my beef. I would feel real bad if something were to happen to you. I really appreciate your concern. Back off and let me handle it."

 

But he insisted on accompanying me.

 

Trino, Piccolo, my nephew, Robert V., Bo G. and Benny F., had formed a gang in '60 and '61. We had pulled about a dozen jobs. I had my own apartment then, and Robert, Piccolo and Trino lived with me. Mostly, I would plan the jobs and they would go out and pull them. But I was given an equal share of the take. Benny complained one day, so I went on a few jobs. The rest of the guys told me that I didn't have to go, but I went anyway.

 

One day Piccolo, Trino and Robert decided to go out on their  own. They were pulled over by the cops on the way to pull a robbery. They were driving a stolen car. They all wound up in prison. I was never apprehended. While I had been in prison at Folsom, in the mid '60s, Piccolo killed a detective after pulling a job. He received a life sentence.

 

Anyway, getting back to the situation at hand, I was very close to being paroled again.

 

I thought about going to the prison authorities to ask if I could be transferred to another facility, but I just couldn't bring myself to do that. It would be a very weak move on my part. I had to face down thesituation, no matter what. All of a sudden I was called to the control cente and told to pack up my belongings and that I was being moved to a minimum security unit. I felt like a heavy load had been taken off my back. Man, was I glad. I was given a job milking the cows at the prisondairy.

 

When I met the Parole Board again, I was asked what had become of the drug charges out of Pueblo for which my parole had been revoked for the prior year, and for which I had been going to Court hearings for.

 

I told the Parole Board that in all probability those charges had been, or soon would be, dismissed. Apparently, the Pueblo District Attorney's office had neglected to place a detainer on me. Had they done so, I would have had to go from prison to the County Jailin Pueblo.

 

Apparently, an inmate who knew of my situation had informed the Parole Office that I had a charge pending in Pueblo and should not have been granted parole. I advised the Parole Counselor that I had discussed that charge with  the Parole Board. "The way the Parole Board saw it, if Pueblo neglected to place a detainer on me, that's their problem."

 

"Well," said the counselor, "if the Parole Board sees it like that, we have to see it like that too."

 

When I returned to Skyline, the minimum security unit where I was housed, I confronted the informant.

 

"Why did you do that?" I asked him. "You tried to get my parole rescinded, you asshole. You are a snitch, but from what I hear everyone already knows that. I should beat your ass. But if I do that, I'll lose my parole."

 

He wouldn't respond, but just stood there looking at the floor. I had had a run in with the guy a couple of years before. I had brought in a pound of weed for him and he tried to reneg on paying me for it. But someone had told him that I would kill him, or have him killed. So he had paid up.

 

On the morning of my release, my brother Sam picked me up.

 

 

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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