Tuesday, September 13th, 2011
“June 13, 2003 was a strange night for me. Back then, me and some buddies used to sell PCP in Landover and crack cocaine in Northeast D.C. That night, we were going to pick up some drugs and then go back to my house. There was a hurricane so nothing was open and the streets were pitch black. Along Minnesota Avenue, our car ran out of gas around 3 in the morning because we couldn’t find an open gas station.
He was going to kill me, so I killed him first.
“At that time, there were no houses there, just a field. We got out of the car and I called my god brother to come pick us up. Three guys started to come across the field and yell, ‘What are y’all doing in our neighborhood! What are y’all doing in our neighborhood.” Anyone who was in the lifestyle carried guns, and I had a 45 automatic. When the guys approached, I told them that our car broke down and we didn’t want any trouble. I didn’t show the gun because guns are for protection. They started getting all aggressive, so we got aggressive, and I pulled out the gun.
“As soon as they seen it, they went running. I got back on the cell phone, and told my god brother to hurry up. About ten minutes later, two cars, a black, box caprice and a white, bubble caprice, turned the corner and started coming at us. We started running up Minnesota Avenue. Over there, you can’t run right or left because you will end up in someone else’s neighborhood and just get in more trouble.
“There are no cops around there, so my plan was to go to the Quickie Mart on Minnesota Avenue and Benning Road where the police be all night long. As we were running, my friend and I got split up and the white car chased me down to Clay Place. By the time they pulled over, I already had my gun out because I knew what time it was. They jumped out of the car brandishing their weapons. But before they shot me, I shot one of them.