Which story is better?
This guy has committed at least a half dozen murders on behalf of Nuestra Familia. He’s in for murder. He might be willing to flip, to turn state’s evidence. He’s already locked down because he’s in a jam with the rank and file members of the Nuestra Familia, a very violent gang. His brother, gangster Mendoza, had contract to murder me because of my involvement in this federal investigation. My son had already been followed home from school in Fresno area.
Joker, an unusually large Hispanic of about six feet, is a weightlifter. He’s got a denim shirt on, which he’s torn the sleeves off like a tank top, denim pants torn off ragged-edged, flip flops, tattoos all over, a very tough looking character.
Entering with me is an officer from the Department of Corrections internal gang unit.
As we introduce ourselves, Joker turns to me and says, “I’ve heard of you. I’ll talk to you. But I won’t talk with this motherfucker in here.”
The guys turns to me and says, “It’s up to you, Byron.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll talk to him by myself.”
The guy says okay, excuses himself and walks out, leaving joker and myself in this very isolated room at the end of a hallway with the door locked from the outside. About ten minutes into the conversation there is a power failure. The lights go out and we’re plunged into total darkness. Dead silence follows.
It seems like hours go by, but it’s probably thirty seconds. For some reason I start laughing. And then in the darkness, he starts laughing . At one point I hear his chair shuffle.
He says, “You know, you’re in deep shit.”
In the darkness I say, “well, you don’t know what’s pointed at you right now.” We’re in a standoff. Then we both laugh again.
I say, “I guess we’re both in deep shit.”
He says, “Yeah.” And we start talking.
In about forty five seconds, which seems like hours, I see rays of light, and hear guards running down the hall, anticipating a scene of total carnage, that joker has ripped me physically limb from limb. They crash through the door, light us both up with the flashlights, and we’re laughing. I’m kicked back with my feet on the table, and joker’s over in another corner with his feet up.
These guys are befuddled. The lights come back on. Joker tells them to get the fuck out of there.
I have no idea of why I started laughing. I guess to him that was a sign of bravado. You revert to some basic instincts, like smell and taste. You almost become a predator.
Now he’s talking very loud, very big. Behind me are 500 kids. He’s going to show that he’s new in school and no one’s going to stand in his way. He started pushing me around.
I’m saying, “Just keep your hands to yourself. You’re not getting in.”
He went nose to nose with me then told me I was very sweet and kissed me on my cheek.
In my mind I’m trying to defuse the situation. Should I hit him now with 500 kids behindme and start a riot? Without knowing the kid, it was my feeling that he had been in prison. He was trying to get me to initiate something. I pushed him off me. Two security officers stepped in.
Our next step was to get him out. He punched a female security officer in the chest and knocked her over a table. I started restraining him.
Other kids jumped in saying, “Don’t hit DeGennaro.” At that point he ran out of the cafeteria. The situation’s over.
Ten minutes later the same kid comes running back, full speed screaming, I’m going to get you.” Cursing big time.
I’m short and stocky. He tried to knock me down, ran into me and fell back. I didn’t move. If I fell down in front of all these kids…it’s crazy you have to play these mind games, but you have to.
He got up and started punching me in the side of my face. We started wrestling again. That’s when I tore my rotator cuff. I held him up against the wall. The security officers handcuffed him.
When we took him out he started crying, “I want my mommy.” This was the second high school he was in, and he went on to a third school. He had been arrested twice before.