NYU Black Renaissance Noire Spring 2015 | Page 8

Flesh and Spirit The Warrior Path: Confessions of a Young Lord By FelIPe LUCIANO In the midst of battle, I remember wondering why he wasn’t fighting back, viciously. He was known for his brutality. I figured he knew he deserved this ass whipping. His gang, about twenty of them, must have felt the same way. They quietly watched Larry get his ass kicked. Either they felt he deserved the beating or they didn’t jump in to help because…because they weren’t ready to die that day. I had six Canarsie Chaplains backing me up: rough hewn, stone-faced, and a collective attitude that screamed “If anyone jumps in, we will fuck you up.” Larry’s guys were right there. Ten yards away. None of them moved a muscle to protect his skinny ass. CHAPTER ONE: The Hit, The Aftermath, The Joint— PARt ONE I remember looking up at that pearlized, iridescent sky that April afternoon in 1964; a soft, salmon pink sky with pastel baby &