Tales of East L.a.

After the gang phase, they stumble through the drugs, the jailings, the craziness, and what they go through maybe shouldn't have been written. It's not something one throws up in the air for all to see, it's more something one tries to hide. But to pretend that it didn't happen is even worse. Because with the bad, there was also some good, an honest effort later on in life at grabbing a hold of some sanity along with some normalcy. This is when what was left of the old clan that had more or less grown up together, found themselves as a cohesive unit again trying one more time to make some sense out of this crazy existence they had learned to call life. This insignificant group of mess-ups called the "Veteranos," managed to do something positive for their people, while doing something positive for themselves. The book cruises through the Chicano Movement, the Murals movement, community involvement, working with kids, the riots, the East L.A. elections, all the different gangs, the different feuds, some of the ones who died, some of the barrio traditions and beliefs, and always an insulated world that seemed to be cut-off from the rest of civilized society. It touches bases on a great many subjects. This is one of those books that has to be read from cover to cover to find out what the hell the author is trying to say. It's a simple book, written by a simple man, for ordinary people. It wasn't written to satisfy my ego. This one comes from the heart.

I, Roger Provencio, was born in the General Hospital of Los Angeles on Jan. 4, 1943, to an 18 year old woman who probably had more balls than the average man. I grew up without a Dad, I didn’t need one, I had my Ma, who was big, beautiful, and voluptuous, besides being one hell of a lady. She also taught me how to defend myself against the bullies by picking up a stick to even the odd whenever I had to. I didn’t need a Dad, I had my Ma - that’s who taught me to kick ass! After that I didn’t know how to stop. It just became part of my life. Always ready to fight with very little provocation. I was lucky I survived! I went through the gangs, everything, the fighting, the jailing, the fear, the tightening up of the gut to keep going, even when facing improbable odds. Sometimes I wonder how I made it, by all odds I shouldn’t have. But I did, so I feel like I owe it to the ones who didn’t to write a little something about them. I can’t just let them disappear as if they didn’t count for anything, as if they were never even here. Too many people have already disappeared as it is, so with this book these people will be remembered. Who they were will not be erased form this earth. Not ever... they’re somebody now!