Life of a Gangster by Yogi
I know the topic may throw off some people. I know how sick many of us are of the whole gangster scene, I know I am. I’m a former “gang-banger” myself (though I still have ties with my gang, I am no longer an active member) and was surfing the web when I came across one of my homies’ web article chronicling the history of Filipino gangs in Los Angeles. I felt it necessary to do the same except from a Korean American point of view because although we all are wary of the subject, it is an important part of the Korean American experience that is rarely covered. Here is the first installment. If I get enough good responses, I’ll continue to write. If not, I’ll respect your wishes and trash this crap.
Brief overview of myself: I started gang banging in 1991 at the age of twelve and got locked up for an armed robbery at the age of 17. I served three years, got released and ended up working at the Korean Youth and Community Center (KYCC) in Los Angeles for the GAP (Gang Awareness Project). I helped at-risk youth get job training and back in to school. After working there for about a year and a half, I decided that I needed to get back into school. I turn 24 this year and I’m close to getting my bachelor’s degree in Graphic Design at the Art Institute of Los Angeles.
I was born and raised in Los Angeles, grew up in Korea Town. I guess you can say that I am very Americanized. Growing up, I always pushed aside my heritage and embraced American culture. I looked down on the “fobs” and tried so hard not to be mistaken for one.
I loved basketball and use to play daily at the Oriental Mission Church (OMC) in Los Angeles. I had such a strong passion for basketball. I was around 12 at the time and I use to day-dream about being the first Korean NBA star. That all changed when the church decided that too many people came there just to ball and started locking up the court. I looked elsewhere to occupy my time and started to hang out at a local liquor star on Maplewood and Western. They had just gotten Street Fighter II, which was the rage at the time. I noticed a group of guys who also use to hang out there. They looked mean and were tatted up. I ignored them and proceeded to whoop on them in Street Fighter. They didn’t trip so I took it as permission to come back. I continued to do so throughout the summer of 1990. Turned out that they were from the Filipino gang Jefrox (JFX). It is a Filipino word that basically refers to the young, rebellious punkers who were looked up to in the old country.
These guys treated me like a little brother, something I felt was lacking in my own home. My older brother and I never got along and my dad, well, you all know how Korean dads show affection: “Yah! Why did you get a B on your report card! You’re not studying hard enough! No more T.V.!” I later learned this translated to “I love you so much that I don’t want you to struggle like I have my whole life. I want you to grow up happy and successful.” Anyway, I found myself looking forward to seeing the “homies” and spent most of my days chilling at the liquor store.
One day, I came in with my walk-man and set it on a chair inside so that I can play video games. A Mexican guy called “Sapo” from the gang Carnales snatched my radio and boned out. I told the homies about it, hoping that they could do something. I went home empty handed and sad. I knew my dad worked hard to buy me that walk-man and now it’s gone. The next day, I went to the homie Oso’s (JFX) house and he handed me my radio. He said he went to Sapo’s house, told him I was with them and he gave it up. I never felt so empowered before. I had these guys backing me up and I felt I was king of the world. Things were going well until one Friday evening that would change my life.
We were hanging out at the liquor store one peaceful Friday night in 1991. That peace was abruptly shattered when about 15 black and Mexican gang members stormed in with bats and started rumbling with the Jefrox’s. I was only 12 at the time and never experienced anything like this before. I stood in the middle of the melee and froze. I got my wits together and ran to a corner. I thought I was safe until one of the attackers rushed towards me with a bat…..
Before he could hit me, Oso jumped in front of me and took the blunt of the attack. The storeowner yelled to everyone that the cops were on the way and everyone scattered. I ran home scared and exhilarated at the same time. Turned out that the gang was AOB, and ex-tagging crew-turned-gang. They mistook us for their rivals and squashed any more **** with us. That night made me feel like I was really a part of something. I felt like I wanted to be a part of this group. When the homie Dreamer asked me to get in the hood, I agreed and got jumped in at the age of 12. I was the youngest member of the gang and was toted around the hood as a kind of mascot.
Anyway, after getting in, I was given the heads up on who we had **** with. The list was long. Apparently, Jefrox didn’t get along with a lot of gangs. We had **** with all the main Korean gangs because they were all pretty much clicked up. We had beef with the KK’s (Korean Killers), KTM(K-Town Mob), and CYS (Crazy’s). We also had **** with almost all of the Filipino gangs as well: PR (Pinoy Re-al), RBS (Rebel Boys), FS13 (Flip Side), BNG (Bahala Na Gang), TGP (Tau Gamma Pinoy) and so on and so on. I knew I stepped into a whole new world, one in which I had no idea to navigate around, but was quick to learn. I was instructed on how to act, how to stand up for the gang and myself. Quickly, I started to look and act like a “gangster.”
Word got around quickly that I had gotten into Jefrox and it wasn’t long until my brother got wind of it. He told my parents and they flipped out. I saw fear in their eyes, fear that I would not see until the time I got arrested a few years later. They refused to allow me to go to school in K-Town because they wanted to put as much distance away from me and my gang as possible. They bussed me out to a school in the San Fernando Valley called Sepulveda Jr. High. Now, I was in a school about 20 miles away from my hood, without any back-up. I adapted quickly and made plenty of friends. At that time in the early 90’s, you were considered the **** if you banged. Many of my friends there never even heard of my gang but wanted to get in. I started going to Sepulveda as the only Jefrox member in the whole San Fernando Valley, to the main o.g. (short for “Original Gangster”) of about 15-20 new recruits. They were a mixture of races, Filipino, Japanese, Korean, white, black, and Mexicans. Jefrox in Los Angeles has been around since the late 1970’s/early 80’s but no click in the valley until I was bussed out there. We started to get noticed in the valley and usually, when a new gang arrives in a new area, the older, established gangs try quickly to take you out…
At first, the Langdon Street Gang (LST) tried to make a move on us. They were a Latino gang that controls the area surrounding our school. They’ve been around since at least the late 70’s (from my understanding). They were the largest Latino gang represented at Sepulveda and sure enough, tensions arose between us. We were outnumbered by about 2:1 but we never backed down from them. We would get into fist fights with them inside of school but would not hang out outside of the school, knowing damn well their hood is just a few blocks away. They never caught us slipping and never posed a real threat inside of school so they started to back off from us.
Then came the Asian Boys Gang (ABZ). This is a notorious Asian gang that has clicks from the San Gabriel Valley, San Fernando Valley, Northern California, and even in the East Coast. Their hood was also near our school and we obviously posed a threat to their dominance of the Asian gangs out there. We would feud with them throughout my years at the school but again; we played it smart and handled everything inside.
Although we were starting to get deep, we still had to earn our individual respect the old fashioned way, by building our reputation and standing up for ourselves. I remember one day, as I was walking to class, I got into a sort of stare down with this one cholo from a Latino gang called East Side Longo (Longo stands for Long Beach). I confronted him in the hall way and called him out. I guess he felt since I was Asian, I was going to back down or something but I knew better. We met up early the next morning to throw down one on one. A small crowd formed and we went at it. The result of the fight: two black eyes and a busted, bloodied nose. I came out without a scratch, only a white t-shirt with his blood splattered all over it. I changed shirts thanks to a donation from a homie and went to class. A few hours later, I was called in to the school police officer’s office and was questioned about my confrontation with the cholo the day before. They asked me if my homies had jumped him after school because of our little argument and I denied everything. They let me go and I was feeling high as a kite. These cops thought he got jumped by a number of my friends because of his wounds but little did they know that it was all me who laid out the damage that very morning. I walked around during lunch and found all these people I didn’t even know patting me on the back. I started to get big-headed and my actions after this incident would reflect that.
I really felt like we were the baddest gang in Los Angeles. The homies in L.A. did a lot of dirt (shootings, robberies, drug deals, etc.) and the valley heads were holding their own. I was young and naïve and didn’t realize at the time that we weren’t untouchable, just lucky. Our luck was going to change soon though…
By 1993, Jefrox grew to about 250-300 members, spanning from the San Fernando Valley, Los Angeles, to the San Gabriel Valley and the suburbs. A big percentage of the new members were Korean. Honestly, I’d say about 40-50% of the new recruits were straight biatches. They only got in because Jefrox suddenly became the thing to be in. It’s what is to be expected in K-Town. Gangbanging became the thing to do, later it would be raving and clubbing, and now it’s PC bangs.
Anyway, we use to hold meetings at a local park on Beverly and Van Ness to introduce new members and to discuss what’s been going down in the neighborhood. I remember one of our meetings, we had a homie from a rival gang called Satanas chillin with us.
He chilled with us on numerous occasions and was very tight with most of the older heads so everyone was cool with him. He was a half Korean, half white guy named Bobby (A.K.A. Grumpy).
During our meeting, he had left with some of the homies and cruised down Western. I stayed back with some of the other homies and chilled at the park. About 15 or 20 minutes later, the homies came back, but without Bobby. They looked stunned and were acting hysterical. I was shocked to learn about what had transpired in the course of less than a half hour. They said as they were cruising, they saw one of our enemies in our neighborhood. They called him Trusty from RBS (Rebel Boys). They got out of their cars and chased him into a restaurant on Western and Hobart.
The security guard would not let Bobby or the homies go in there and they both started to get into an argument. Suddenly, as they were about to leave, Bobby turned around and shot the security guard in the upper body. As Bobby turned to run back to the car, the guard (still lying on the ground) shot back at Bobby, striking him in the head.
He died of his wound, ironically, in the same parking lot that Edward Song lost his life defending the “Pizza Go” restaurant during the L.A. riots. Also, across the street at the PC bang, my dong-seng Arthur also lost his life to gunfire. To this day, I refuse to stop in that plaza to buy cigarettes, eat, or even to use the phone.
1991-1996 was a crazy ass time in Korea Town. Sh!t was popping off left and right. We were in an all out war against a group of gangs bent on taking us out. RBS had clicked up with PR and went on calculated missions to get rid of us. In the valley, Asian Boyz and RPB (Real Pinoy Brothers) were trying to do the same (though they were not clicked up, they both hated us as well). One night, my homie Clumsy (who I knew since the 2nd or 3rd grade) was chilling on Maplewood with about 5 other pee wees.
Suddenly a couple of carloads of PR and RBS’ pulled up and they started to fight with the homies. The homies were only about 14 years old and were fighting against guys in their mid twenties.
Clumsy took on about 3 guys on his own (he was pretty stocky for a 14 year old). The fight was too much for the little guys to take so they started to run.
Clumsy on the other hand decided to continue fighting on his own and this would prove to be very costly…
[not to be continued...]
This is a good post, I stumbled across your post while looking for lyrics. Thanks for sharing, I’ll be sure to return regularly.
Werd…old school AOB right here…K-town was fun back in the day.
Nice story.
I lived a few blocks away from the park on Van Ness/Beverly and my sister used to tell me a lot about Jefrox. It’s a trip to hear actual stories about them though. I waspretty young when all that shit was going down, so I don’t really remember what she used to talk about.
honestly it was good story.but you cant say that this was life of korean gangster cuz obviously you were from a flippino gang.. and had most of your conflicts with flips . but it was a good story
korean, filipino, black, mexican, armenian. it dont matter what gang u were from or what kind of gang you were in asscracks.. its the lifestyle.
Very interesting …hey “asscrack” whats your name?
I have family from the JFX including my father In San jose California , heard many stories like this too ! Lol
I stumbled onto your blog while researching Korean gangs for a film, and surprised to find you also went to Sepulveda (called SMS instead now). I’m sorry to hear you’re not going to continue writing about your experiences since I never really knew much about the goings on of the lifestyle despite having a majority of Korean-Am friends and would have liked to have read more. Thanks for the story.
lost a buddy named Wilton about 15 years ago – you may remember him…continue the story bro, although I don’t want my children to enter this lifestyle, it’s important to remember those we have lost along the way and honor their memory by passing on their story