Where Do I Begin?: An Autobiography Short

World

CHAPTER 1

WHERE DO I BEGIN?

Where do I begin? I was born Terrence Ussery Wilson July 11th, 1969 in Jamaica, Queens, New York. I am the baby of four sisters and two brothers, one of my sisters is here in New York, the majority of my other family members are in the State of Mississippi and beyond. As a child I was told that my middle name comes from a 1960’s horse jockey named Robert Ussery, which makes sense being that my mother was a very heavy gambler and in fact was good at it, I will get back to that a little later. I was a tall skinny pimple faced kid in my neighborhood but it was ok because my character and joking ways was my Clearasil. I grew up in an American Home with my God-family for the younger years of my life. Sleeping in the den was where I laid my head and my God-Brother shared the same dwelling with me, we had a small TV on a stand, had our bunk-type beds, my God-fathers stereo, encyclopedia bookshelf, a couch, the bathroom, and a door to the basement where there was a washer, dryer, a back door to the patio and a big black dog we had named CoCo. Above the den up the steps on the left wall was a gigantic family portrait of everyone from way back in the day, everyone sitting in old fashioned chairs with classic dresses, and everyone had the shiniest teeth. Then past the front door up the second set of steps were the living room on the left , kitchen in front, dining room far left by the two, and more stairs up to 3 bedrooms and a bathroom, to say the least it was a very nice house.

My God-Brother was a little older than me and was a great boxer, people in our neighborhood respected him for that skill and he was thought to become a champion fighter one day. Other than that we just shared great times trying to stay up late at night watching scary movies on the TV and karate flicks on Saturday which was a must after cartoons. He once said to me Terrence, you think things are hard now….wait until you get older and as a kid I never knew what he meant by that but I kept it in mind. Anyways, as time went by and he got older he and my God-Father would get into quarrels and he’d get kicked out of the house but I always sneaked him back in through the window over our Bunk-beds, I loved him, he was the only Brother-figure I had, most of my blood brothers and sisters were spread out over a few other states.

My God-father was a tall light-skinned man who loved the blues, his character was very professional most times and every year he would upgrade his Cadillac and I remember one time he took me with him and that new car was a beauty and with the car came a 8-track tape that played some type of classical music, we looked at one another in awe, but it was all good with the smooth ride home and the smell of new car. Nice man who had no violence in him at all, just a very hard working happy family business man. Besides the new car he would always buy me a new bike every year and as the years went by the bikes got bigger. One year he got me my first 12 speed bike and it looked so gigantic but I gave it a whirl after we put the brakes and handlebars on it. I loved riding roller skates & skateboards but the bike was cool to me until one day I got hit by a car after running a stop sign, this is where I learned early in life about lies adults tell whether they be good or bad people, it was a learning experience, I will get back to that a little bit later as well.

Back to my God-Father, At home he would come down to the den from time to time, with his big bottle of Vodka & Grapefruit juice in hand, and just play the blues on the stereo for hours. He had this funny old man dance when the liquor kicked in and my brother and I would just sit back on the bed and laugh. When I had my time to listen to my records or 8-track tapes I only had The Beatles and J. Lennons voice was amazing to me, if any of the Vodka was left behind it was mines, only baby sips though. My God-Father was a retired Navy Officer and was now a manager in the appliance department at Sears in Brooklyn, New York. In the basement (below the Den) was a back-door to the back yard where there was a large over-hang, clean-cut grass, a shed, and blue & white tables with chairs, very nice set-up. He would wire the speakers from the Stereo in the Den to the outside speakers and in the summertime we would all sit in the back as he fired up the Electric Grill and made Fresh Crabs, greatest taste in the world from such little monsters with very little meat inside, I can still smell the old bay seasoning today. One time on my Birthday they were throwing a surprise party for me in the back and my dog CoCo jumped up on the table and ate my cake, it was funny to us all so we laughed it off and celebrated on without the cake. For the most part I was raised knowing how a family is to live and love.

On the side of our house was a small one-bedroom apartment which my God-parents rented to a police officer named Tony, he was a cool down to earth dude who once shot himself in the hand cleaning his gun. He once showed it to me and told me to never play around with guns because they are very dangerous and I must admit I never did play with guns but once in my life. We talked a lot, guess I was the kid all the grown-ups loved and trusted in my neighborhood. He drank Brandy and he would give me a taste in a glass, but I never told anyone. I remember one time he took a rope and showed my God-Family how to make handcuffs out of them if someone ever broke in the house, I never got to see how to do it because I was the one he was using as an example burglar, one thing I can remember is I couldn’t move my hands at all, and he said this is what happens when you get into trouble on the streets. I mean I was still young but learning from all angles. Tony said that I would one day become a comedian because I joked a lot and i was actually funny being able to imitate so many people and add a punch line to a punch line. The last time I saw Tony we helped him move, not far from our home, but it was sad to see my cop-buddy move who taught me about good and bad on the mean streets of New York City with his many stories as a real police officer.

Crime wasn’t a part of our daily lives, I mean even the movies or television shows back in those days were not as violent as they are these days, we just went on as if there wasn’t a care in the world. I mean every family does have its problems, troubles and bad times, however, I never really saw them much as a child, guess they hid it from me, but I did pay attention to everything that went on, instinct I guess you can call it. There were times when my God-father drank so much that we would have to go to the 113th police station  late at night to pick him up because he got pulled over for drinking and driving but there was never any legal troubles for him. My God-family was very well known in the neighborhood so the cops didn’t bother the family  with legal matters, tickets, etc., other than seeing the good things that came with the bad I finally  experienced death. Our dog CoCo later died and it was actually the first time I had experienced the loss of a pet, losing a person was a bit different, but the hurting, empty, painful feeling was the same. I remember when we lost a cousin in Brooklyn, New York, sad part was I had just met her for the first time during a previous family gathering, she was a heavy set  light up the room soft spoken kind of girl and  I cried really hard but this one very nice woman came over and sat me down on this big couch, held me and said Terrence, she is in Heaven now, God picks those who blossom here on Earth, which is Gods Garden, and takes us to his home, you will see her again one day and I can tell you those words have stuck with me like it was yesterday and does help me to heal these days.

Back to the God-family, my two God-sisters were just different from all the girls in our neighborhood; you could tell they were raised by a good family because they carried themselves like Catholic school girls. One of them was very tall and friendly, the other was a little snobby but they both mostly took care of themselves as far as hair and make-up and their appearance was concerned. Next was my God-Mother, she was a math teacher at Boys & Girls High School in Brooklyn, New York. She was a very quiet person at times and was a great cook, I loved her cheese eggs. Sometimes we would go up to the kitchen and watch her cut up the blocks of cheese into little cube-like shapes and mix them in the eggs and it gave out an amazing flavor to the better half of breakfast. I never heard her conversations with my God-Brother but when it was my time to be talked too she would take me in the bathroom, stand behind me, hold up my chin, tell me to look at myself in the mirror and ask myself What do I want to be when I grow up? I would always say an airline pilot and she said follow your dreams.  Besides helping me with my math homework that was basically our conversation. She smoked a lot and we could hear her cough all the way down in the den every night. She would routinely send us to the corner store with a small list to pick up her smokes, and when needed, that big old blue box of Kotex. At the store we would either give them a check or got credit from which she added a note to the list. I, at the time, knew who my mother was but not my father, I had only met him twice, he was medium build, caramel complexion, tall with dark curly hair and when I first met him all I could really do was stare at him with my sparkling child eyes as he showed me a magic pencil trick, which I share with kids today when I am introduced to someone who has kids around, harmless share.  And the second and last time I saw him he had given me $20 and never was I to see my real dad again. It is ok though because at least I got to meet him. My mom was a short heavy-set mean woman, I mean her temper was quicker than quick, there were times when she’d have the airport personnel turn a plane around that was about to take off, even when she was late to the airport, My mom was a real life female American Gangster, even though she was a small southern woman she was  very witty and street smart and could cower a big man down swiftly with her louder than life voice and vulgar words, rarely did she visit New York but when she did you couldn’t miss her, all the kids on my block knew who she was, Terrence’s Rich Mother.

On my block there were a lot of kids who use to play together, we guys would be playing Skelly while the girls would be double dutching, and it sucked every time we had to move out of the streets because there was a delivery business on the corner that had to come up our block in their little white cars to make small business deliveries to Kennedy Airport, which was not far away, and the planes would always take off and run over our neighborhood every day, we got use to it over the years. Anyways, some kids would be riding bikes or skateboards and we couldn’t wait for the Country Store On Wheels which was an Ice Cream truck where you didn’t just walk up to its side to order, we walked inside the back door, stepped up inside and ordered our 25 cent treats. I cannot remember any violent times of gun shots or fighting because for the most part all of the adults in the community of American Homes were honest 9 to 5 workers and we all stuck together and played together day in and day out and everyone knew that when that porch light came on it was time to go home, on Monday nights we would all either get together and go to the movies or end up at the roller skating rink where I was called The Disco King oh yes I was a great roller skater and there were times when that’s all I would wear in the summer were my black roller skates with the yellow wheels, we were all a great group of kids on my block with personalities that seemed liked we were all rolled into one and who knew the rules and respected our elders. I was a big MJ fan those days so I would have my dark & lovely perm in my hair to keep the curls going along with my MJ Jacket, I was one dancing fool in my neighborhood and I loved video games but when I lost I’d punch the machine, crazy right? All of my guy friends who I hung out with were scattered along the many other blocks up and down 140th Avenue and we hung tight as a group of young boys having fun and playing jokes on one another and thinking of funny mischievous stuff to do to one another even many others as time went on. One of the things we used to do was pull the fire alarm when they added it onto the corner, however, after getting tired of this serious joke they began putting black clay on the pull and we stopped. We called ourselves the 161 Crew as the years went by. One of these kids (you now know today as) Rapper 50cent who we called Little Curt or Boo Boo on our block mother Sabrina used to hang out with my God-Sisters, they were older than us so they didn’t mind us too much at all and everybody had a knick name, Big Terrence/Little Terrence, Big Kev/Little Kev, and so on and so on. As for girlfriends, I remember I had a crush on a sexy tall pretty long legged girl named Linda But Doreen had a crush on me, she was a big girl, but cute, I ended up with her anyways, she was too big and aggressive to