When Art Reflects Real Life...A Tattoo From A New Friend...

"I went through a lot.  My dad was a severe alcoholic and also did heavy drugs, so I had a tough childhood.  That's where this tattoo comes from.  He died at the age of 49 in 1998.  I started drinking a lot myself.  This is me with my head down and crying while holding all my fears and tears from all I've been through in life...trying to hide it all from everyone."


Those are the words from a new friend who has dared to send me her tattoes, with the stories of their symbolism and meaning.  She happens to be a fellow Lower East Sider, 11 years younger than me, and who like myself, has since migrated out of the area.  Despite the fact that we never knew each other before she responded to my tattoo request - there was an unbelievable and instant connection of understanding and recognition of her pain and experiences.  I either witnessed or experienced so much of the same that she went through.  She grew up just one or two blocks from my middle school at a time when many negative social issues where overwhelming the neighborhood.

So I say these words to her and to others throughout the world who may have felt this same way in the past or the present - you are not alone.  No one gets through this life unscathed.  Truly what doesn't kill us makes us stronger.  We have survived.  We are alive.  And now we live to tell, to teach, to share...perhaps to save the life and soul of someone younger than us.

So to those still living and going through changes - here is our message:  Just keep the faith.  Continue to lean towards the positive.  Do not allow the tempting thoughts of the negative slip in and take you off your righteous path towards a positive life.  Resort to as many positive people around you that you can - or even reach out here to me through this blog.  Email me at NYEastside.info@gmail.com

A million "thank you's" to my new sister for sharing her tattoos.  I knew that she has more to show us and teach us.  But, I had to start off everyone who reads my blog with just a glimpse of some powerful symbolism in the world of tattoos.  There is much more to come.


John S LES

Where's Your Tattoo? Let's Ink About This!

Let's Ink About This...

I would love to write a post about tattoos.  Well...that's if people have some interesting to show and share with the world?  I might even write a fictional story featuring a tattoo based story sometime down the road.  The bottom line is that more now than ever before a lot of New Yorkers are wearing tattoos.  From the big cities to the suburbs, men and women, young and old alike, a lot of people are getting painted.

Now I myself do not have any tattoos to show off to anyone.  I've never gone the distance on getting painted.  However, I am interested in forming/shaping up a feature post - to allow those who read my blogs to "share" their story.

Now I don't need your name.  That's optional.  But I would like your picture, your permission and a short story behind your painting.  All you have to do is email me at NYEastside.Info@gmail.com, or Kik @ NYEastsideE.

So it's time for me to "brush up" on some reading about tattoos.  Because with one "easy stroke" I could be "painted" in the corner and left out of the loop on why more and more people are getting inked.

"Cop Killer - part 4" The Private iTeam by John S LES ©

"Cop Killer"

part 4 by John S LES

The next morning Linda's prophetic words had made many things clear to me.  I knew that a trip upstate New York was going to be necessary.  The Kingston Gardens resort that this group of Anti-Crime police officers used for their vacations with their families had to be investigated, not just by Internet postings and several phone calls, but also by direct contact.  We were going to have to see what it was like in person.

During the previous day, while I had met and dined with Linda, Marti and Grace used the rest of the afternoon to find out more about Kingston Garden online.  My team also continued to investigate other leads.  Noelle pursued the relationship between Money MacDaniel and the now deceased Mike Dupree.  Dupree was Santiago's boss and his only possible corroborating witness to what occurred the night DeLorenzo was killed.  Darren continued to shake down the streets on the west side.  Chris was going to join me on the road trip upstate.  We would go in separate cars and pose as two separate individuals while up there.

I had went back with Linda to her apartment and before our passionate attractions and affections got the best of us, I left.  She still felt like a client and that I was still working for her.  It was a good thing that I left that night.  I had a bad episode of dreams that night.  It was part of my lingering post traumatic disorder leftover angst from my combat days in the Army Rangers.  Sometimes those dreams haunted me.  Sometimes they simply served as a warning of impending danger the next day...like a sort of sixth sense that something dangerous was about to happen.


The drive from Bayside, Queens to Coxsackie is just under a 2 1/2 hrs depending on traffic and time of day.  Chris and I both decided to leave after 8:30 am to avoid the rush hour traffic, but that once we approached Coxsackie we would stagger entering a half hour behind each other.  I played myself, a private investigator from NYC, while Chris dressed up in a suit and played the role of a competing insurance broker from the New England area who specialized in insuring commercial resorts.  Chris wanted to have some fun letting his normally hidden Bostonian accent run free from his mouth.

During the first hour and a half of the drive, using the Bluetooth system in our cars, Chris and I had a 20 minute, 4 way conversation with Derek and Marti which produced some important updates.  Darren had come across some uptown street dealers who competed against Mike Dupree's downtown traffic.  The police concluded that Dupree was probably killed in his own apartment during a power struggle between him and one of his lieutenants who wanted to take over the partnership with MacDaniels.  However, the latest word on the street was that MacDaniels was now backing out of any re-associations with street corner dealers.  To make matters even more strange, most street dealers thought that  MacDaniels' alliance with Dupree seemed unusual to begin with.  That alliance only seemed to favor Dupree, more than it did MacDaniels.  MacDaniels had already washed his drug money clean the past five years by investing in two 24 hour laundromats, three car washers and three disposable cellular phone companies.  He also had invested some of his money from those businesses on Wall Street and was doing well.  His getting back into street corner drug business seemed like a step back for someone who had worked to be in his position.

By the time we ended the 4 way conversation, Coxsackie was now just 45 minutes away.  My bad dreams the night before, this new information on the relationship between Dupree and MacDaniels and the specter of this band of rogue cops and DeLorenzo bad cops.  All of these elements and variables mixed together.  Although I didn't know what Chris and I were driving into, I definitely knew that whatever we found would probably mean the beginning of the end of these rogue police officers.  And I was right.

When I arrived at Coxsackie, I tried to meet up with the police chief, Roy O'Callaghan.  The Coxsackie police department had a total of 23 police officers who worked around the clock to watch over a town population of roughly 7,000 plus residents.  Crime had not been an issue in the town, however, the chief admitted to there being a spike of drug use in the town.  He had not been able to pinpoint the spike, but he did note that town rumor was that it came from the owners of the Kingston Gardens.  Two of them retired police officers.

"I did use some favors and presented it to a friend who used to work in NYPD to have IAB look into it, but it looks like it went nowhere.  I don't think they ever found anything.  All I do know is that there are a lot of former and current cops who use the Gardens pretty exclusively throughout the year.  We've never had an issue there, because they stay within themselves and bring good money into the town."

Chris made better progress when he went over to Kingston Gardens.  He found the owners, Kevin Dobson and Tony Russo, both former New York City police officers.  Russo was a second cousin to DeLorenzo.  Both men happily spoke about their resort and offered Chris a membership, after he enamored them with his story about being a former Boston police officer, who now sold insurance after being injured on the job.  Chris continued his chameleon act when he continued about his Irish relatives who were police officers and who were always looking for places to vacation and save money.

After about an hour he was drinking a beer and smoking a cigar with them at their bar in the resort.  The men declined any need for his company's property insurance, but guaranteed that if he wanted to get a membership there away from his wife and kids, they could get some prostitutes on premises for the weekend, as well as any party favors, (the code word for illegal drugs) that he needed.

"We have tricks here to get guys past the Dole test in case they slip up while they're up here.  We know a couple guys down at Health Services who can give us a heads up on the list.  You can bang in sick for a week to clean yourself out and then take the test.  Believe you me, I was on the job and saw that Dole test coming up.  After 16 years, enough was enough and I vested out before they Doled me out.  We didn't know anyone back then with Health Services, but now we do.  And the police here will never, ever bother you when you join the resort.  The chief of police and his officers are as backward as the town of Mayberry and Deputy Barney Fife."

By 3:30 Chris and I were done and headed back down into the city, but the news out of the city wasn't good.  Darren was being harassed again by the police in the area, in particular members of DeLorenzo's Anti-Crime team.  He got pulled over for allegedly failing to signal when he drove back downtown on the lower west side.  They had been watching him talk to guys known for dealing drugs on the street, but who weren't carrying and Darren wasn't buying.  He was taken in and warned by Anti-Crime Sgt. Brennan for walking into known areas of drug dealings, carrying a loaded weapon.  Darren only responded,
"Okay, so that means that I don't walk anywhere?"

When we arrived at the precinct, Aliyah and Darren were just about to walk out.  Sgt. Brennan, came out and saw me, "Well look at who it is, the wannabe detective, who's nothing but the fearless leader of the rat pack."

"Yeah, yeah Brennan.  Maybe you should try being a cop one day, instead of being a criminal masquerading as one."

I wanted to say more, but when I turned I saw my cousin Alex Valentine, the Chief of Detectives, coming out of a side room.  Alex and I were about the same height, but he was 14 years older and a very distinguished looking Italian American man in his mid forties.  He had just been in a conference with Lt. Simmons.  Alex grabbed me by the arm and simply said, "Gio, let's talk outside."  Lt. Simmons also stepped in between and ordered Sgt. Brennan to go back upstairs to Anti-Crime.

"Hi Alex.  Nice to see you here.  Did we do anything wrong here?"

"Nope, not yet.  But let's talk about it, away from here."

The minute he said that, I started getting that tension in my neck and shoulders again.  It always came to me when I was a kid growing up, and when I was overseas in war.  It saved my bacon more times than I could remember.  So I always trusted it.

As soon as we got to the door, there was a group of three Hispanic males across the street.  As soon as we exited, one of them walked away and two of them walked into a dark BMW parked ahead.  I gave Darren and Alex the heads up eye contact that we were clearly being followed.  We told Aliyah to pretend like she forgot something and to walk back into the precinct with Darren since the Spanish men seemed only to be really eyeballing me.

My car was parked at the corner, behind Darren's.  Alex, Chris and I slowed down our walk as we could see the car trailing us.  It was too late to turn backwards and not necessary to go forward and involve a couple of news reporters camped out across the street still covering the "Cop Killer" story.  It was a moment in time that I had seen in combat overseas.  Time seemed slow, but things were actually moving very fast.  We stopped as the car sped up and they fired shots at us, but we ducked and returned fire immediately.  All three of us returned fire into the car at the two shooters in the back.

In that same moment, once Darren and Aliyah alerted the desk officer of what was about to happen, two sector cars came speeding down the wrong way of the street to cut the assailants car off.  Another car came from behind as additional police officers came out with guns drawn and opened fire on the vehicle.  With my name already reduced to mud at the precinct, I felt that all of this heroic police action was really to safeguard my cousin, Alex.  I could have been wrong.

Either way, in 43 seconds, it was all over.  Two suspects dead, one critically wounded and not likely to survive his wounds.  They would later be identified as Dominican hit-men hired by an unknown source, but thought to be hired by a member of the west side drug ring who didn't want me or my agency interfering with their power struggle.

So there I was, at the 14th precinct another 2 hours being interviewed by detectives.  What started out as a nice day, had quickly turned into a nightmare.  Linda had been calling me all day and now several more times as she saw the news report.  The reporters down the street captured everything.  Alex was adamant that after Chris and I were done being interviewed and our guns taken into evidence, he wanted time to speak to me outside of the precinct.  He was required to visit department psychiatrists since he was involved in the shooting.  However, he took us outside and spoke to us in an empty detectives car.

"Gio, this shooting thing is off the charts.  In all my years, I've drawn my gun a few times, but only had to pull the trigger twice.  I hang out with you just for five minutes and I'm in the middle of the L.A. shootout.  Listen, I know, you're good at what you do.  I know you sometimes can get sensitive information that other people may not be able to get access too.  But, you have to lay off the guys in this precinct.  What's about to go down here may be worse than what happened on the street here a couple hours ago."

"Alex, what are you saying.  They've got a kid in jail here who's probably innocent, and this precinct is filled with cops on the take, selling drugs and IAB isn't doing a damn thing - "

"Listen, the department is about to get a big black eye here soon.  Capt. Dunlap had me reach out to Lt. Simmons, he's clean, but he's done.  The Feds are involved and have been involved for months, before this DeLorenzo thing happened.  Heads are gonna roll, but they keep hearing your name come up on tapes.  The Feds want you to step away.  They were going to wait another week, but with DeLorenzo getting whacked, and now all of they hear is conversations about retaliation against you.  It's slowing down their normal operations and not revealing all the people involved."

"So did they whack DeLorenzo?"

"No."

"Do the Feds know who did?"

"No, not yet, but they have a pretty good idea.  So do we.  We just haven't made a move yet."

"Are you going to tell me who their lead is?"

"No.  Because you'll probably figure it all out before you go to bed tonight.  You always do."

I looked over at Chris, who remained silent throughout, "You believe this Chris?  See how family treats you?"

Alex shook his head, "Come on Gio, just step aside and let the Feds and police Chiefs here get their hands covered in this mess.  You don't want to be anywhere near this toilet bowl when it flushes."


It was already a little after 9 pm by the time, Darren, Chris and I got back into the office.  There was two patrol cars from my local precinct parked across the street.  Nicole and Marti stuck around, as they were very concerned for our well being.  We needed to meet together before our office wrap up in addition to them wanting to show me something that had been discovered by Noelle earlier in the day.

She handed me a year book from Francis Louis High School.  She got it from the school when she was looking into MacDaniels' background.  His sophomore year, was his last year at the high school.  He was on the varsity boys basketball team and was apparently very good.  There was a photo of him taking a foul shoot in a game...with his left hand.  There was also another photo of him being kissed by his girlfriend after the team won a game that went to double overtime.  The girl kissing him had a familiar face.  It was a young, Christina DeLorenzo, who maiden name back then was Canterino.

"Gio, I followed this up by locating a couple of former teammates and they confirmed that DaShawn 'Money' MacDaniel and Christina Canterino were an item during their freshman and sophomore years together at Francis Louis.  Some of his ex-teammates said that she had a fallout with her family after she continued to see him the following year when he moved to LeFrak.  She actually moved in with her aunt and uncle for a year before she finally broke off the relationship with him.  She went to Queens College for two years, before she took the police test and she was on the job by the time she was 22.  She met Anthony DeLorenzo on the job and was married a couple years later.  The rest is history."

"Yeah.  I would say so.  Especially when the police surveillance video showed DeLorenzo's hooded shooter coming out and holding the gun with his left hand."

"MacDaniels was clearly a lefty in high school."

"My God," Marti added in, "Gio, she's gotta be involved somehow?  Why else would Christina's former boyfriend end up partnering with a drug dealer that her husband wass stealing from?  MacDaniels wouldn't risk all of his success the past few years out of jealousy from an ex-girlfriend in high school?"

"Yeah, I know.  But why?  Was it money?  A divorce?  A bad marriage?"

None of us knew the answer at that moment.  But what I did know was that it was late for all of us.  It had been a very long day and would be a longer night for me, wondering if my home address had also been known to whoever hired the hit-men to kill me.  I told everyone to go home and that we would tackle everything first thing in the morning.

By the time I got home, Linda was finally able to reach me.  I had been pushing her calls, as well as calls from my father and uncle X.  All of their messages were very emotional and concerned about my safety.  I called them back starting with my father and uncle and kept it brief.  But, when I called Linda, she demanded that I do one of two things.  Either I got in a car she would have waiting at my door in ten minutes and come to her place to sleep, or she would be at my door in forty five minutes.

I didn't want anything to happen to her...or me for that matter.  A little less than an hour later, I was boarding the elevator to her apartment.  She was dressed in a robe, makeup slightly smeared from crying all evening worrying about me.  I tried to change the topic as I had noticed that she had a new picture hanging on her wall by the artist Antonella Mason, the same artist from the E Speakeasy restaurant and lounge.

**

"That's a beautiful picture, Linda.  I can tell that that is a town somewhere in Italy."

"Yes it is.  Thank you.  It's made by the same artist - "

"Yes, I can see that.  You know if this whole case is over by Monday, maybe we can go to Milan early next week?"

"No.  The exhibit opens this weekend and I promised a lot of people that I would be there for it's opening."  She paused for a minute.  "Gio, I have to go into the shower.  As you can see I'm a total wreck worrying about you."

She then walked further into the spacious apartment and into her bathroom.

"Gio, I have three bedrooms.  You can either sleep in one of the rooms that my niece and nephews use, or you can sleep on a king size bed with me?  But, if you choose to sleep with me in my bed, I can't say I will be able to control myself from groping you throughout the night."

"Ha, ha...okay.  Let's just say that I'm very interested in sleeping in your bed tonight."

She dropped her robe and entered her walk-in shower.

"Gio, well since you're going to sleep with me, would you mind jumping in this shower with me and helping me wash my hair?"

After seeing her undressed, it only took seconds for me to undress as well.  When I entered the shower, her back was to me.

"Here's your shampoo."

"Um...Gio, is that a shampoo bottle in your hand...or are you just happy to see me?"




**The photo of the painting by the artist Antonella Mason was printed with exclusive permission from the artist herself for this blog.

The Brooklyn Bridge: Spectacular Views!

If a picture is worth a thousand words...then I hope that the following pictures I took from the Brooklyn Bridge will be worth a million words.  Enjoy!

When I was in my early and mid teens, walking across the Brooklyn Bridge to visit people I knew who were bused in from the other side wasn't really an option.  There was a bit of territorial rivalry between those of us who lived on the Delancy (Manhattan) side and those of us who lived on the Williamsburg (Brooklyn) side.

On this day, this trip my trip over the Brooklyn Bridge became sort of a walk back through time, as well as a walk into the future.  My memories of the other side of the Brooklyn bridge being home to urban blight (even more than my Manhattan side, which was no bargain either) started to fade away as I started to approach the hoards of people walking across the bridge.

There were people from all walks of life on the bridge.  There were bicyclists, runners, walkers, workers, students, families, foreigners as well as natives - there was all walks of life crossing.  There was a culture on the bridge.  You could buy yourself water at several points.  People like me who stopped to take pictures.  Some who just kept walking.

To go along with this culture that crossed the bridge was of course the spectacular views from the bridge.  To those that crossed this bridge everyday, it wasn't really a big deal.  But for those of us who had never crossed this bridge by foot and only by bus or car (or only by subway) it was a great moment to actually be able to stop and take in and enjoy the beauty of New York City.  This bridge was constructed between 1869 and 1883.

It take a lot of ingenuity and idealism to build a bridge such as this.  It is a shame that more people do not take the time to continue to build such bridges within our minds, our cultures and our ideologies.  There always still has to be someone thinking about war, destruction and senseless murder.  Yet when we turn that unnecessary and negative energy into positive energy - when we focus our minds on building and blending...we can achieve so much, much more.  We can build things that last for a millennium.

 

Between two Boroughs, between two different parts of the city that use to fight among each other, now there exits a life and culture of more tolerance and economic opportunity for all who cross either side.  Where there was once urban blight on both sides, there is now enormous urbane growth and sprawling downtown areas - on both sides!  Even when crushed by fear and evil, positive energy and life still pushes through.

And so I crossed the bridge this day.  But it wasn't just a bridge that I crossed, it was the future that I walked into.  The unbelievably bright future of the "new" Brooklyn...

To be continued....

In 48 Hours...Part 4 To The Private iTeam

The Private iTeam...is a hit!  Just 3 posts and over 2000 hits...more than double my monthly reader average. Your response to my "Cop Killer" story and it's main characters has spoken volumes.  I was going to delay the publication of yet another one of the stories I have written for these characters, but your response to them has been overwhelming.  I will not delay.

So stay tuned because in another 48 hours, part 4 will be published, and will feature some of the sensational and graphically expressive art of international artist, Antonella Mason.  Her work truly captures a moment in time.  From the first time I observed her artwork online, I knew that her style would fit so well with type of story telling that I am continually aspiring to tell.  I cannot immediately think of any other artist whose layers in a single illustration capture the vision, mood, energy and stories of New York City.  New York - let's show some love!!

For my friends who haven't seen her work yet, please do click on her link and visit her site.  I'm taking a day trip into NYC, with plans to put together part 4 of "Cop Killer" while walking the city streets and crossing the Brooklyn Bridge.  So stay tuned and hold onto your seats.  Part 4 of "Cop Killer" is going to take you for a ride!

Update 4/22/13 8:55am...today's weather is overcast and cold in the 40's.  I'm going to postpone walking the Brooklyn bridge until tomorrow.  So today's time will be devoted to my writings for all of you!

We Are All Connected

Outside the Time Warner Building at the Columbus Circle of East 59st in New York City, there is this symbolic statue of the planet earth, the continents and circular objects (probably the symbol of satellites) circling the planet.  When I was child growing up in the 1970's, when someone went away on a trip and took pictures, you probably didn't see those pictures until months later.  A long distance call to relatives in Virginia, Florida, North and South Carolina sounded a little bit better than the televised, live communications we had with American astronauts on the Moon.

But that's all changed today.  Today we can just power on our electronic devices and reach out to family, friends and even strangers across the world.  All it takes is just one or two clicks.  Since the mid 90's I have used the electronic world to communicate with people from around the world.  People around the world are similar in some ways to the people I grew up with in New York City.  No matter the color, the height, language, culture, the shape or the weight...people are people.  Some of us gravitate to the positive things in life, and some of us gravitate to the negative things in life.  But, never the less, people are people.  Humanity left untouched or undaunted by the negatives, is a beautiful thing.

There are universal things that matter to all of us around the world.  The positive aspects of music, humor, love and family are always out there for us to aspire towards.  When we embrace positive and beautiful things and ideas, our world becomes a better place for everyone.  In spite of the behavior of the actions of a few, small thinking individuals, we must not allow the progression of humankind be slowed or stopped by them.  Although there may be times when we just sit on the sidelines and watch the powers that be duke it out for control of the world, there are also times when we must step in and choose a side.  The side that will most benefit mankind and human progress.  And then, with all of our might, our love and our hope for generations to come after us...we push.  We must trust the good souls with our dreams...

An Emotional Detour Before I Continue With Private iTeam

An Emotional Detour...

First I'd like to welcome and thank many of the new people who might be reading my blog this month.  I hope you will continue to visit and that I can either share some form of insight or entertainment (or both) through my fictional and non-fictional, life stories.  If there's any one thing that can be said, it is that I try to share...share laughs, knowledge, insight, hope and love through all that you see here.

For those who've been reading and following me...you already know the relationship I have with people in the New England states, and more specifically the greater Boston area.  For those who aren't sure...you can go back and read my "He Was A Cowboy Alright...But Darling Was His Name" real life story.  Also for my newer readers, you can read "The Family Texas Road Trip" or "Never Mix Your Neighbors..." for additional real life stories from me.  

So here's my real life, emotional detour from Private iTeam...the devastating bombing attack in Boston, MA.  I've had many friends over who have participated in marathons, including the NYC and Boston marathons.  I  also have a ton of high school and college friends from the Boston area.  Many of whom I still speak with.  So far, I don't directly know anyone that has been maimed or killed.  However, the numbers of announced injuries as a result of this tragedy are staggering.  25 to 30 people receiving amputation type injuries.  17 critically injured.  3 dead, including an 8 year old boy holding a banner for his father at the finish line.  Hundreds more with minor injuries.

In the 21st century, with all of these recent advances in technology, people now have this tremendous opportunity to communicate and share opposing political thoughts to millions across the world in an instant.  Yet why are some of us still turning to these barbaric forms of expression?  As of yet, no one has taken credit for this horrific murder scheme.  Making bombs takes some know how and intelligence.  What a waste of both...just to murder.  That intelligence should instead be combined with other intelligent people to figure out ways to help various countries with job creation and manufacturing alternate forms of fuel resources.  Maybe even make some money out of it for yourself.  Nope.  Instead, someone one or group of individuals chose to use that intelligence to kill.  How small.  So very, very small.  Smaller men, have made millions, with even less than this.  

No one will see this individual or individuals as a political ally.  Just a murderer of innocents.

Marathons represent man's ability to overcome great odds.  Even as my neighbors, friends, extended families in the greater Boston area suffer this tragedy...overtime they will endure.  They will come back just as New York has come back from multiple bombing attacks before and since 9/11.  Instead of weakening people's spirits, this/these murderers will only succeed in galvanizing people's resolve to thwart these murderous individuals in the long run.

We can be critical of our government for a lot of things.  But one thing is for certain, no matter the president, the governor or mayor...our federal and local governments happen to employ people who can find and capture terrorists overseas and within our own shores with only the slimmest of information.  They employ people who can drag pieces of a destroyed jet liner from the bottom of the ocean and meticulously put it back together in a hanger down to the last fragments.  These types of people will not waiver.  They will not quit...and they now have been extremely motivated to find you.  Whether it takes them a day, a year, or a decade, they will be on the job day and night to its completion.  Soon enough, the people or person behind this will be "next" on a list of captured murderers.

As for the rest of us, we need to continue to use the positive power of our voice and our intelligence to dissuade such ignorant, wasteful and murderous behavior.  There are dozens of  positive ways to stop oppression, make a point and change the world.  Murder is not the way.  We should be evolving from that type of thinking, not turning back towards it.  That 8 year old boy was no one's enemy.  Just a kid cheerleader for his dad.

The picture below is not mine.  I found it on a Google search.  I'm sure most New Yorkers are with me on it's overall message.  I hope you will all join New Yorkers in prayers to those families affected by this heinous act.

"Cop Killer - Part 3" The Private iTeam by John S LES ©

"Cop Killer" by John S LES

The next morning, after my morning martial arts workout.  I turned on the TV news, to play while I worked out.  The NYPD had already began distributing their surveilance video of DeLorenzo walking in the street and following Santiago into the corner apartment building.  Santiago is wearing his puffy, maroon jacket with the clear wording of the Washington Redskins on the back and Native American symbol on the front by the heart.  As DeLorenzo goes in behind him putting over a radio call, you suddenly see him backing out and taking shots to his chest.  Then you see Santiago now wearing his hood over his head, his back to the camera, and with the gun in his left hand pointing over the head of the fallen DeLorenzo whose body is supine and clutching his chest.  The video then stops.

I headed down Bell boulevard and into my office as normal.  I knew that with this news video out and the $50,000 reward being posted, it was going to be a heck of an uphill battle to get to Santiago before the police did.  It was 8:30 and Marti had already opened up and watched the downloaded video of a then unknown two white males who laid the dead rat by my doorstep.  She also downloaded the video that the police released of the DeLorenzo shooting.

Fortunately for me, I have long range, high optic cameras facing either corner of my block from on top of my roof.  My street had stop signs and traffic lights at both ends.  This unknown male then got into the passenger side of a blue Lexus, driven by another white male and took off.  To keep from standing out, the car obeyed the stop signs and traffic light coming towards my house and stopped once more down the street leaving my house.  The camera was able to catch partial digits coming and going...just enough to put together the whole plate.

Once I was in the office, I began listening to my work and cell phone voice messages.  I had five messages from my father and two from Captain Dunlap.  Dunlap was my father's lieutenant during part of his career as a detective.  Both were refering to my behavior and conversation with Lt. Simmons.  To sum it up, they both berated me for coming across very disrespectful to the Lt at his precinct.  I returned both their calls and explained my position at that moment - of my rights being disrespected regardless of any police investigation for a cop killer.

"People in this city have rights.  Those rights don't have to be trampled over in order to find this cop killer.  If the precinct police could reach out and repair some of the damaged community relationships first, they wouldn't have to go at people with storm trooper boots to get what they needed to find Santiago.  My only problems right now, is following through with these allegations of bad cops in that precinct, and identifying the two men involved with laying a dead rat on my doorstep.  I have their faces and license plate on video."

Captain Dunlap was as unhappy with my allegations as he was with the act of retaliation.  Whatever information that occurred in yesterdays' meeting at the precinct should not have gotten out so fast that it finished with a retaliatory act that came to my doorstep in another borough that night.  In addition, he told me that IAB did conduct an investigation of allegations of dirty cops at the 14th, however they came up with nothing.

"But this rat thing at your doorstep is disturbing.  It just happened too fast for it to be word of mouth.  Gio, before you go to anyone in the department about this, give me two days and just speak to your father first.  I will get back to you guys on this.  But for now, do us all a favor and go back and make things right with Lt. Simmons.  We need to squash that immediately.  Then do what you gotta do.  Even if his hands are tied at his precinct, Simmons is a good man, and so is his CO, Captain Hennessy.  He and a lot of people could take a big hit if this falls the wrong way."

When I hung up the phone although my ego didn't agree with my father and Capt. Dunlap, the logical side of my mind did.  Whatever next steps I was going to make, I couldn't have everyone in the police department forming a dislike of my agency.  If we uncovered any type of corruption, which led to DeLorenzo's death, we were going to need to present it in such a manner members of the department would be more compelled to clean house, rather than focus anger at my agency.  I agreed to apologize and had Marti put a call in to Simmons that I sent my apologies and would meet him in person to say it to his face if he had a minute. 
 

The rest of my team walked in well before 9am.  Everyone came in focused and aware of all that went on with Darren and I in Manhattan.  Then I added the incident with the rat being laid at my door. We knew that from here on we were going to have to bring our "A" game to look into any possible police corruption at the 14th precinct and how this might have led to DeLorenzo's death.

"Look we're not taking on the entire police department, so let's get that straight.  What we are here to do is find out if' there is some corruption and if that led to DeLorenzo getting killed and Santiago getting framed.  Our first priority is to see if we can find this kid, Santiago.  If we can get a straight story from him of what happened that night, then perhaps that will have a domino effect to the rest of this debacle."

From then on we all went into our conference room and I activated our SMART Board.  From there on I laid out our basic mode of direction.  We needed whatever public information facts we could find through the Internet.  We needed whatever information we could get from our people interviews. Lastly, we would also need information that both Grace and Marti couldn't dig up, or get without raising red flags.  That's where Edgerfeld or "Edge" would come in.  Getting someone's motor vehicle information via the DMV was already turned into a series of hoops and authorizations   Getting information on a car that possibly belonged to a New York City police officer would definitely send off flags and consequently alert the police department.  Only Edge knew how to get around those databases without setting off alerts.

First, we drew up  what we already knew.  DeLorenzo responded without a partner or backup to follow a low level street dealer.  Why?

Noelle responded to my question first, "Perhaps he had such a grudge against the guy, he simply wanted to take him down that night?"

I handed out the copies of the CCRB reports that Marti had been able to get copies of on DeLorenzo, "Yeah, but just from some of these initial CCRB reports, it looks like how I had guessed, DeLorenzo was a bit of a lone ranger type.  He seemed like the type who took a lot of chances."

Chris, "Okay then, so who are the people who might want him killed?  Let's just do what we always do.  Let's start out with a clean slate, make a list and start from that."

I went on the SMART Board and began the drawing.  DeLorenzo was at the top.  His wife at the left side.  His partners on the other side.  Drug dealers below.

"Lady and gents, either one of these branches, or all three of these branches wanted DeLorenzo out of the picture.  We must assume the negative - that all three branches are possible suspects.  There could even be a fourth branch we don't know about it.  All that we do know is that everything from the radio call, to that grainy NYPD surveillance video camera - points to Santiago."  I pulled up the news video and we all watched it again.  After watching it a second time, there was just something about it that bothered me.  I couldn't put my finger on it, even though it seemed very convincing.

Folks, Chris and I will look for Santiago over in Jamaica.  Darren you can use your street contacts in Harlem and the west side to see what they will tell you about dirty cops.  Just be careful not to put yourself between the drug dealers and the cops if there is a war going on.  Noelle, I need you to track down DeLorenzo's wife, talk to their neighbors.  We have to find out how and where they spent their money.  If he was a dirty cop, then the extra money is going to come up somewhere.  Grace and Marti can continue to follow up any leads on public information online."

"Gio," Chris stopped me before we left the conference room, "We're definitely going to need Edge's help. I mean to try to get information on these cops is going to send up so many red flags.  Even if we tried to hack their systems, we would be up against some real jail time if we show them."

"I know, Chris, I know."

On our way out of the conference room, Marti gave me the list of calls that came in for me.
"Gio, Lt. Simmons.  He said you could have five minutes of his time if you were anywhere near the city later this afternoon. You also got a call from Linda Walters.  I forgot to tell you that she called yesterday and asked about the name of your tailor, which I told her - "

"You did what?"

"Well, Gio, she was very nice on phone and really very polite.  She just asked me where you bought your suits from and I told her."

I didn't know what Linda was up to at that moment, but I could only imagine.  "Alright.  Any word from Edge yet?"

"No.  Not a single call back."



Chris and I were the last to leave the office as we hopped into my Corvette.  As soon as I got into my car, my cell phone rang.  It was Edge.

"Gio.  Don't go anywhere.  Keep the car in park.  The police put a tracking device on your car and Darren's car.  Don't worry.  I already sent him a message.  He told me that he was going into Harlem and that it wouldn't matter.  Even if they follow him there, they aren't going to find anything."

"Yeah, he's right."

"Good.  They put it on your cars while you were parked by the precinct yesterday.  So whether or not you plan to apologize to Lt. Simmons, understand that he was still under orders to screw you.  Now let's get off these cell phones and meet me by the pier.  Take Chris' car.  Don't worry, it's clean."

It took us all of five minutes to switch into Chris' car, a black Nissan Altima and drove over to the pier at the Bayside Marina.  Neither of us could figure out where Edge was parked, or which car he was in on Bell Blvd, watching us when we had left the office.  Either way, we were now going to wait at least a couple more minutes for him to show up at the parking lot of the Bayside Marina pier.  The pier was closed and less than a handful of cars were even parked over there.

Chris and I waited a couple of minutes, but there was no signs of him.  Sometimes Edge liked the cloak and dagger routine just too much.  A couple minutes more went by before a flower delivery van pulled up next to us.  It was Edge.

"Come on, you guys, hop in."
"A flower delivery truck?  At the pier?  Edge, you gotta be kidding me?"

Once we were inside, he laid out all that he had learned.  After Darren and I had left the 14th precinct, there was only cell phone activities with Lt. Simmons to anyone in his command.  However, there was significant activity among members of DeLorenzo's Anti-Crime unit.  It's a twelve man unit.  About eight of them had high cellular activity.  I mean, not just with the ones who were working with them and in the same proximity, using the same cell towers.  I mean, they had high activity with two other members who also live in Bellrose, on the Long Island side."

Chris put the two bits of information together, "Bellrose is only 10 to 15 minutes from here, tops.  Do you have their names?"

"Yes I do.  Both names came back to the driver and passenger of the car that dropped the rat at your doorstep last night.  Police officer, Kevin Sanders was the driver and Steve Baczkowski, was the ratter.  I already downloaded an encrypted file with Marti.  She can distribute the rest to you guys.  For now, just leave the Corvette here and take care of whatever you gotta do.  Remember, you cannot use this information in court.  Just use it as guide to - "

"Steer ourselves in the right direction."  I could never tell why Edge insisted upon repeating that line to me when he gave us hacked information.  It was more like for his own self entertainment.

"Fine, Gio.  Very funny.  Anyway, you guys have to leave my van now before some cop pulls up and stops us for possible drug sales or a trying to commit a sexual act in a car?"

Chris and I stepped out and in a flash - he was gone.  But he had left us a ton of good information that it would have taken us days if not weeks to get and a lot of IOU's.  We had the list of the names from DeLorenzo's 12 man Anti Crime team.  As Chris and I proceeded to St. Joseph's to try to make contact with Santiago, we all knew now for sure, that at least eight members of that Anti Crime team were probably dirty cops.  All we had to do was find out what they stole and where the money went to after they stole.  More than likely, it would be drugs.  But where was the money?

When we arrived at St. Joseph's church, it was as if we were expected.  We were hustled into a back room of the church and down a flight of stairs where Santiago was staying, with only a cot and candle.  Chris and I spoke to him as friends of father Manuel.  Santiago was well aware that his time might be running out and that sooner or later the police might find him if he ventured to leave his hiding spot in this part of the church.

"Yo man, I never killed DeLorenzo.  I hated his guts and wanted to see him dead, but I never killed him!"

"They have you on video, Santiago.  How do you explain a police video camera of you holding a gun over his head after he chases you into a building and then you shoot him as he backs out?"

"Bro, Gio man, I went into that building because I was told to by my boss, Mike Dupree, to go into that building if I had a problem with DeLorenzo that night.  My boss said he would have some cameras inside to catch DeLorenzo shaking me down for my stash and then we could blackmail him.  So when DeLorenzo saw me, I called my boss and led DeLorenzo to the damn building, yo.  'Cept when I went in there, there weren't any cameras.  I got jumped, and hit over the head from behind, by I don't know who.  By the time I woke up, I was in a west side dumpster on 137 street.  My phone was ringing, with everyone telling me that the cops was after me for killing DeLorenzo downtown."

"What did you do to make DeLorenzo go after you like that?"

"DeLorenzo was heated over my last complaint that I gave the CCRB about him and his Anti-Crime team, the midnight and evening shift dudes.  They all criminals themselves, man, worse than me."

"What complaint was that?"

"Well, they used to round us up, even give us a beat down and take our drugs.  I never officially mentioned the drug part in my first four complaints.  I mean our boss said it was the cost of doing business.  Then one day I just got tired of the beat down.  Losing those drugs is like losing money out of my own pockets. We took the loss, and still had to pay our boss to get fresh stash.  He said we needed to run faster.  So I started beefing to the CCRB on DeLorenzo and he went nuts on me every time he saw me in the street.  Told me to get off his streets.  I couldn't work for about a month because of him."

Then Chris inquired, "Why didn't CCRB just take your complaints to IAB?

"Say what?  Man, DeLorenzo and his crew got IAB in their back pockets.  DeLorenzo's uncle is a chief downtown and his father's brother-in-law runs IAB.  DeLorenzo and his crew knew their way around all of the laws."

Then I pressed him, "Where did they sell their drugs?  What did they do with their cash?"

"I don't know, yo.  You should ask them?  But I bet they don't have any bills or debt?  Them dirty pigs spent a lot of their time upstate.  Maybe they spent it up there?  Used to laugh in our faces about stealing our drugs on their stop and frisks and nobody gave a damn.  They even stole when they did door kick downs too."

"And you only reported one time to the CCRB that these guys were taking your drugs?"

"Yo, Gio man...I'm a corner drug dealer.  Who do you think the judge and jury is going to believe?  Me or the nephew of a commissioner?"


Thankfully Santiago allowed us to record the conversation.  As Chris and I slipped out of that church, we weren't sure if we had just recorded the last words of a dead man, or if we had just spoken to a ghost.  It was a little past noon and my phone was filled with messages from Marti, Noelle and Linda Walters.  There was still no word back from Darren as we headed back to the office.

30 minutes later, as soon as I walked into the office, I could see that there was a clothing delivery.  Marti explained that it was two Armani suits, one a tuxedo and the other a black suit.

"Gio, she sent the suits with an invitation to an art exhibit in Milan this weekend.  She wanted you to go with her as her personal bodyguard.  She also asked if you were available for dinner tonight at ESpeakeasy in Manhattan.  They have some of the exhibits there as well."

Chris immediately started breaking my chops about suits.  "Gio, you have to go?  She sent you two new suits from your talor?  You gotta go.  When you get back you can tell us what it's like to be a Boy Toy for a weathly babe."

"I can't go to Milan?  We gotta break this case.  We just scratched the surface of this thing."  No sooner than I said that, Linda called and I took her call.

"Listen, Gio, I know you think I'm coming at you really fast.  My life is changing.  I've tried calling you today and yesterday, and I know you're busy.  I heard about yesterday.  I'm sorry about that.  But before you make any decision on Milan, will you at least join me for an early dinner at ESpeakeasy and we can at least discuss some business?"

"Listen Linda, we really don't need to discuss this.  I can't go to - "

"Gio, tell me, for tonight for our dinner, should I go dressed in black or white?"

"Well, you had black on the other day.  You looked good in black."

"Good choice!  That's exactly the color I chose to wear this morning.  I'll send you a picture to your phone so that you can see me when you walk in the door.  Sent."

I looked down at her message and opened it up.

"Did you get my picture, Gio?"

"Yes, I did.  Linda - "

"I'll see you at 5:30 tonight then?"

"That's right during rush hour, it's going to be hell to get in town before that time."

"Then come earlier.  Stay at my apartment and my driver can take us both there?"

"I'll see you at 5:30."



I knew I would have to leave no later than 3:30 before the traffic flow on the bridges and tunnel would change, but I had to wait for Darren and Noelle to get back.  It was now 1pm.  They walked in right on the dot and we all went back into our conference room to put what we had all together.

Darren was able to confirm that there was street talk about Anti-Crime cops stealing money from dealers on the west side.  Darren had a couple conversations with cops he knew working Vice, that all investigations into dirty cops on the lower westside all lead to dead ends.  Mike Dupree worked for a couple of other drug dealers, but recently those guys had joined up with a guy from Queens who hit the big time.  DaShawn "Money" MacDaniel.

Money MacDaniel, grew up in in Fresh Meadows, Queens and attended Francis Lewis high school, before his mother and father broke up and he moved with his mother to LeFrak City.  There Money started working for the LeFrak City drug dealer Domino Jones.  Money moved up the Domino Jones chain of command due to his penchant for sudden violence and his uncanny ability to handle money.  With only two years of high school education at Frances Lewis, his teachers said that he had already aced the New York state math proficiency test as a sophomore.

Noelle did manage to drive out to Massapequa, Long Island, where DeLorenzo and his wife lived and posed as a reporter for the New Yorker looking to do a biography on Anthony DeLorenzo.  The neighbors told her of how the DeLorenzo's once were seen in his and hers Corvettes, but apparently sold those cars in place of having his and hers Lexus'.  They also had an outdoor swimming pool, a 750,000 dollar house by the water and the neighbors said that they spent a lot of their vacation time going upstate to a resort.

Grace and Marti also crossed checked this information, with the names of other members of DeLorenzo's Anti-Crime unit.  Posed as telemarketers who were cold calling, they found out that most of the eight names on the list also had credit card bills from most of the same mini malls and gas stations that were upstate going towards Coxsackie, NY.  We placed the purchases on the SMART Board and used mapping software.  All of their credit card purchases centered around a five year old family resort called Kingston Gardens.

Before I headed into Manhattan to speak with Lt. Simmons, return his tracking device and have dinner with Linda, I told everyone that we needed to now concentrate on two things.  First, we needed to know and understand how and or why Mike Dupree had partnered with Money MacDaniel.  We also needed to find out how Kingston Gardens resort had been funded in it's build up.

"We have to follow the money folks.  Because that is what's behind all of this."


My drive into the NYC was pretty quick.  It's always better if you get in before 3pm.  Simmons did meet with me in coffee room in the precinct on the first floor.  He gave a general apology for Darren and I getting roughed up exiting St Emerics yesterday.  I then apologized for saying things that showed disrespect of him and of officers in his precinct.  I then handed over both tracking devices that he seemed to be expecting anyway.

"Sorry about that too Gio, but it was worth a shot for us.  You two guys may have lead us to dead ends, but we traced Santiago up at a church out in Jamaica, Queens.  He used a phone at the Rectory to call his mother not knowing that we already had all phones to his family members - cell and home - being traced.  Once he get's brought into Manhattan tonight, they'll have it on the 11pm news."

"Oh, so you have him in custody?"

"Yes."

"Did he mention anything about a Mike Dupree?"

"Yes, he did.  But Mike Dupree was found dead in his apartment about an hour ago.  What do you know about Dupree and Santiago?"

"Nothing, Lt."


An hour later I was back at Linda's apartment, waiting to be driven down to E Speakeasy restaurant and lounge.  E Speakeasy use to be the home of one of the hottest and hippest clubs in all of New York City.  It still has it's reputation for being a nice quiet spot for people of different social status to stop in and have a great meal.  More meals and socializing than drinking and dancing.  Pool tables and lounge chairs and wifi replaced the large dance area that E Speakeasy used to be known for after hours.

Linda and I received first class treatment all the way into the restaurant.  She frequented the place and help support artists who works adorned the walls.  One of her favorite artists on display there was Antonella Mason.

"Gio, I just love Antonella's expressionism and symbolism   She's not afraid to reveal the essence of things in so many layers.  There's a museum in Milan that's going to exhibit some of her work this weekend along with some other artists.  I love showing support and turning up in places where people will least expect me to appear.  I know you have a big case on your hands, but can you take the weekend off and come with me?  I promise, promise, promise to fly us back here in the States by Monday.  I just want to support Antonella.  She does such beautiful visceral work."

"Linda, I can't leave my team here and go flying off to Italy.  Plus, you're still married!  How would that look?"

"Gio, my philanderous husband and his conniving attorney looked at all the evidence you obtained, and the fact that I have $100 million more reasons to keep paying more lawyers to bleed him out of his own money in court over the next 10 years - they jointly decided to move him out instantly.  He took a deal so he could keep his money, save face in the media and move onto his other flings. By October, New York will be a no contest state anyway.  He's happy and I'm happy.  We have no kids because I'm barren.  I might still consider adopting instead of baby sitting my niece and nephew on the weekends in the Hamptons."

"Okay Linda.  If I get this case resolved by Friday, which probably won't happen - then I'll go with you...as your bodyguard.  Separate rooms."

"Fine, Gio.  Keep playing me.  I've been hitting on you since I hired you.  What the hell does it take to get your attention?  Older men want me to wear on their arm.  Younger men only want me for my money.  But you, you only would want me because you feel I am someone of value to the world and to you.  But you won't even give me a chance.  You keep rejecting my advances."

"Linda, if our positions were different and I came onto you like you have been to me, especially these past two days - first words out of your mouth to me would be that your affections couldn't be bought.  And that lingerie picture via text message, might have gotten me a sexual harassment charge - "

"Huh!  In another life!  I'd pay a million just to see you wearing nothing but your birthday suit."

"Here you go, ignoring what I'm saying to you."

"Gio, you're right.  But, don't chastise me for now going to extreme measures to get your attention.  If me flashing my money bothers you, we can walk back to my place or take a bus.  I don't care, Gio.  I just want to be with you.  But only if you want to be around me."

"Well, I'm here aren't I?  Let's just take it easy.  I'm not going anywhere."

"Great!  Now tell me if I can help you with your case?"

"You can't help me with this case."

"Why not?  Does it involve money?"

"Yes it does.  Drug dealer money."

"Oh that's easy.  Everyone who's big in drug trafficking always wants to wash their dirty money clean.  You can only put so much of it under your mattress  It's a cash only business.  There's still a centuries old high demand for it and the perfect place to launder your money is with a bank or a startup business or both.  Banks use the money to cover their losses and startup businesses use the money to grow from dirt to a castle."

I looked her straight into her eyes.

"Well I'll be damned."

Tonight...Part 3 of The Private iTeam Cop Killer to be posted!!

Thanks to all my friends, family, coworkers and artistic friends for helping me put together part 3 of The Private iTeam "Cop Killer" these past two weeks.  I will be posting it in a few hours!  I know a lot of you have been waiting for this, and you won't be disappointed!

The Numbers Speak For Themselves...

The numbers speak for themselves.  In just two weeks and two posts, The Private iTeam has singularly generated over 800 pageviews online.  I've averaged nearly 1,000 pageviews a month.  But with this short story, that all has changed!  Clearly Private iTeam is my hottest short story post ever!  Due to such demand and my standards to give you the best - I have to dedicate more time for editing and resources.  I will delay part 3 post until Thursday so that I can use the next 48 hours to give you all the best that I've got.  This "Cop Killer" story has been worth these 9 months of growth and discovery for both me and you - my devoted audience.  So stay tuned for part 3 of "Cop Killer!"

Part 3 of The Private iTeam "Cop Killer" to be posted tomorrow...hopefully :-)

Due to my long weekend and editing time constraints...Part 3 of "Cop Killer" of The Private iTeam will be delayed one day.  For now my readers can re-read the first two parts, click on the links and enjoy the short stories I've posted in between.  I hope everyone on the east coast and general New York area had a great, great weekend.

Mack The Hot Dog Man

Today was a nice warm, Spring day out  here on Long Island.  When I was in NYC last weekend I walked by a few hot dog salesmen both near Central Park and some of the crosstown streets.  On the block that I grew up on downtown, we had a neighborhood icon "Mack" the hot dog man.  For many years good old Mack pushed his hot dog stand on the neighborhood corner and sold the best hot dogs ever.  He always got the best and sold us the best.  He could whip you up a hot dog of your choice toppings in a matter seconds.  His drinks were also always ice cold.  Back then a hot dog and drink would cost you a $1.25.  Last Saturday I spent $5.00 for a hot dog and bottled water at Central Park West.  It was a good dog too.  Reminded me of Mr. Mack, who has long since vanished from his famous corner in my old neighborhood.

In addition to his great hot dogs  ice cold drinks and the speed in which he could serve you, was his amazing ability to render you the proper change from his change dispenser/coin holder in a matter of split seconds without even looking down to count.

What would New York be without its hot dog salesmen?  I don't know.  But, I do know that they sure give it something more than just "hot dogs".  They give it a sidewalk, entrepreneurial spirit, as well as a closeness and connection with different ethnic and socio-economic factions in the city.  We all pay the same price for that same hot dog no matter if you're rich, working class or poor, or black or white.  Hot dog stands are like your neighborhood water coolers.  You can learn a lot about what's going on in your neighborhood from the hot dog man.  It's a beautiful thing.

No Borough Bias Here - Yo Brooklyn Is Back!!

Some friends who have read my blog keep asking me why I don't show more of the other boroughs in New York City.  They wonder why I'm so borough biased.  Well...it's plain and simple.  I was born and raised in Manhattan.  But some of the best friends I've had in my life or have met come from all over the city.  As time goes on with this blog, I will be covering the uniqueness, beauty and stories from the other boroughs.    For now please do enjoy these samplings from Brooklyn.  The pictures on this page are courtesy of my friend and Brooklyn native, Ronni G!

Brooklyn has been an integral part of the creative talent pool throughout the modern history of New York City.  Yeah, yeah it has it's own negative history during the hard times economic times of urban blight from the late 1960's through the 1980's.  But just like Manhattan, Brooklyn is definitely on the economic upswing.  Things are drastically changing for the better.  There are parts of Brooklyn that look as 21st century modern as Manhattan.  So let me just take a moment to list a few Brooklyn born and raised people who have not only contributed to New York City in and of itself...but also made major contributions to the entire world.  Remember my following lists will only be a sampling of names and links, so let's not get carried away if I missed someone.

Brooklyn has produced two of Hollywood's great directors:

Mel Brooks
Spike Lee
and history film maker Ken Burns

Brooklyn has produced three great rappers:

Big Daddy Kane
The Notorious B-I-G
and of course Jay Z

Body builders and actors:

Lou Ferrigno
Eddie Murphy (NSFW)
Mayr Tyler Moore (I'm know I'm missing Mickey Rooney, Jackie Gleason, Rhea Perlman and Steve Buscemi among others)

Here's a list of a several more Brooklynites you might know:

Mayor Rudolph Giuliani
Lena Horne (I didn't forget Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond, Barbara Streisand and Aliyah)
Iron Mike Tyson (NSFW - and I didn't forget Riddick Bowe)

Last but not least for now...I cannot forget what this man brought to one sport/team/franchise...and what that sport has brought to the world.  The one and only Red Auerbach

Footnote on other notables:  Michael Jordan was born in Brooklyn, but his family moved to North Carolina when he was a toddler.  The above list of names include people who were actually born there and lived a few years in Brooklyn before moving on with their lives.  In addition you have writers Norman Mailer, Arthur Miller and "Sienfeld" creator Larry David - all Brooklyn born.

I would hate to imagine what the last 60 years in sports, music, TV, movies and literature would be like without the contributions of just this small sample of names from above.  Many thanks to all my NYC family who are Brooklynites.  May you continue to rise again.