Posted on December 5, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By Mo Burke
At the end of a fall quarter at Cal, I packed my feminine feminist best – army pants and plaid flannel shirts – for a road trip with my first boyfriend, known to this day simply as The Bear. The Bear bought a beater with a student loan and we took off for Redwood Country, never having been that far north of San Francisco. Sleeping under those trees was a draw.
December of 1979 displayed the north coast in all its back-to-the-land glory. At autumn’s end, leaves colored and fell. We camped on logging roads and drove through redwoods, along the Smith River swollen with rain. There was one surrealistic dinner – ragged hippie kids dining with Crescent City’s finest, all beehives and chiffon, in the new, swanky Denny’s. …
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Posted on November 28, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By Terry Soto
The day before I killed Donald Evans I did not even know he existed. The day he died I was smoking crack cocaine and when I smoke crack, nothing else matters. Not family, not friends – not even God.
Each time that I smoked crack, I could hear little demons, their excited little whispers. I knew what I was doing was wrong. That pleased them even more.
At the time, I was out of money and robbing drug dealers on the streets of Los Angeles. …
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Posted on November 21, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By David Lee Caudill
I never got to hunt with my father. As far back as I can remember I would watch my father, along with his brothers and their father, come home from a hunting trip. They would show off their deer, explaining every detail that led to the kill. Then they would describe how the deer feel, how far he had run after the shot. I was never there for the fall, the shot, the first step into the woods before the sun sparkled on the frostbitten fields of tall grass and dormant wheat. But I was always there when they came home….
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Posted on November 14, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By Frank Deese
Karen seemed to get what Min Thant meant while I stood nearby distracted by the round alluring eyes of Phoebe Cates, wondering what could possibly merit her poster being the only decoration on the bare walls of this dirt-floored Burmese home. Phoebe Cates was certainly pretty and spank-worthy enough for Judge Reinhold in “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” – but why would Min’s family worship her like a foreign goddess?
My girlfriend back then possessed all the adventurous impulses I lacked. They had taken her to Southeast Asia, Malaysia, Thailand, Burma, Rangoon, and now into the home of Min Thant, a schoolteacher we met at an open market while trading our smuggled whisky and cigarettes for local currency and laquerware. …
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Posted on October 31, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By Matthew Loflin Davis
After getting back from Thailand without my score, I wound up on the streets of Ann Arbor — the homeless shelter on Huron to be exact. I had built up a sizable habit in Asia and now was sweating it out cold turkey in bunk beds with a bunch of other junkies, drunks and thieves who swept through the room at night going through the pockets of the destitute, stealing what they could, and pretending to be friends in the day. …
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Posted on October 24, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By Jaime Bugarin
To a 10-year-old child, alien to electricity, running water and television, coming to America was a whole new world. America, to me known as “El Norte,” was romanticized by those who had gone and come back to Mexico with new-found riches, mostly made up of the brand-name clothes on their back and a small pile of American dollars. I had not traveled farther than the major city 20 kilometers away.
But the day came sometime in 1978 when mother announced we would be making that trip. My father, who was already in America, had raised enough money for the trip and to pay a human smuggler known as a “Coyote” to bring us across the border….
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Posted on October 10, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By Anonymous
Two years have passed and still no one has seen Rosalba Andrade. She was kidnapped soon after her 46th birthday, and has not reappeared. Her houses, cars, cloths, and other property have been divided among those who envied her and befriended her. Even her own family has stripped away at all her riches.
Rosa and my mother attended the same elementary school together. My mother admired Rosa’s dedication and will power. They both grew up in the small town of Dr. Belisario Dominguez, in the state of Chihuahua, Mexico.
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Posted on October 3, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By Cavin O’Ferral
Dear Society
Please forgive me. I have no excuses for the crimes I committed during the 80s. Back then, after committing a robbery, I was sentenced to 12 years and 8 months in prison. I was released 7 years later and returned home to my ex-wife and 5 kids. The 3 oldest were my biological children, and the 2 youngest were fathered by my so-called homeboys. These 2 friends took advantage of our friendship while I was in prison. My wife, at the time, and I divorced during my incarceration. Wanting to do right and be correct in the eyes of society, I accepted those 2 beautiful boys as my own. Then, I remarried my wife. …
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Posted on September 26, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By Helen Weatherell-Bay
I remember being really sad this day. Sad enough to be sitting on a beach alone and crying. This is a low point, Helen, I thought. I am not, and have never been, suicidal. Homicide was always a more comfortable feeling for me. But this day, I was just damn sad and needed a cry. Then suddenly, all I could think was “Get up! YOU’RE DONE” I knew I was lying. But it was okay.
I got up and started a long walk in the hot sand back to boardwalk. Every step felt heavy and uncomfortable. I reached the boardwalk before the tears returned. As I leaned up against a tree to wipe my feet, I heard a voice….
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Posted on September 19, 2011 by Sam Quinones
By Thomas Douglas
The wedding was beautiful. Colors exploded off large trees. A light breeze and the sun bathed the surrounding area. It was a simple Mormon wedding — small, only seventy-eight people, but pleasant.
“I knew that it was going to be the best day of my life,” the groom said to me later. “No matter what, I would remember those minutes.”
We had all taken our seats, I was sitting in the second row with my mom right beside me. The groom had come though the front doors, and was now rolling himself down the aisle…
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