Growing up a son of an Outlaw Biker Part 1


By James Macecari

“You need to spend time crawling alone through shadows to truly appreciate what it is to stand in the sun.”
― Shaun Hick

Many of us grew up during a time when stuff was pretty damned hard. I grew up with 3 brothers in Chicago. Mother worked two jobs most of her life and my Father, who would have a huge impression worked in a steel mill. Times were tough, we lived in a cockroach infested 3 bedroom apartment on the Northside of Chicago in a mostly Latino neighborhood. My pops moved to Chicago when he was 14 from Oceana West Virginia. He lived a hard and screwed up life. His father, my grandfather, was an old-school coal miner and the meanest drunk West Virginia ever seen.

I can remember being told a story about my grandfather. One day he got on one of his drunken rages and beat my grandmother up. The cops were called to the house, my grandfather was waiting for the sheriff on top of a hill. Everyone knew each other back then since the town was so small. He said ” Listen up Mike, I have one bullet in this revolver for you and one for me. Make your choice”. Let’s just say the sheriff let the situation cool off. Dam Grandfather was so mean the town showed up to the funeral to make sure he was dead.

I now know those days for my father haunted him. He was also a drunk. A mean one at that. He would give us a beating for just about anything. One of the biggest mistakes that we could make as boys was for him to catch us crying or losing a fight. I remember one time the school called. Told him I’d been in a fight at school and got a bloody nose or some crap. He specifically asked “Did he win? Cause if not, he has another ass whooping coming when he gets home”. Yea the threat of an ass whooping from him installed in me. “If I ever got into a fight” I better damn well make sure I did everything I could to win it.

When I was about 10 my father and his friends started hanging around a motorcycle club in the area. When I turned 11 he was a full patched member and always out on the weekends. During the week after he got out of work, he would be hanging with his brothers. It was always a point of contention with my mother. After a while, she just accepted him being gone all the time. Shit it actually was a quiet time around the house and ass whoopings got lesser the more he was with the club.

When I turned 13, my pops started bringing me around all the guys. It was a sight to see, all those Harleys and Triumphs, what an amazing experience. My favorite part of being taken around the guys was a huge Rotty named “Rex”. It was the security for the clubhouse. Mean ass mother, but he was as nice as could be to me. As the year went on my pops would bring me to the clubhouse more and more. I became close friends with another members son. We are still the closest of brothers till this day. One thing that didn’t matter was the race. It was a white/latino club. Being in a Latino neighborhood, I was able to get the biker culture from both sides.

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14 was the first time I got laid. Yes, It was my birthday and my pops came up to me and said to hit the back room. The room is where the guys held all of their meetings. I thought I was about to get my ass whooped and didn’t even know why. My pops closed the door and said make me proud. About 10 minutes later a 25-year-old stripper came into the room and my world was rocked. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. We were in the room for about 30 minutes, I blew my cherry bomb and she left the room. About 5 minutes later I heard my pops yelling for me to get out of the room now. When I came out all the guys from the club were out in the bar area yelling up a storm and giving me the high 5. Talking about becoming a man that day, and even better all those people cheering you on for popping your cherry.
Another big moment for me came when my pops got me a 1977 cb750 piece of shit when I was 15. Actually, it was a frame and box of parts, couldn’t even call it a scooter because shit was everywhere and not assembled at all. “Here’s your ride, every day after your chores and school I better see you putting this thing together.” He threw me a box of tools and I had at it. Man, I remember I had no damn clue what I was doing. When I would ask my pops for help, he smacks the shit out of me and tells me if I could read I could do it my damn self. It took me a year and a half to get that bike up and running. I had nothing but a year and a half of busted up knuckles and pride with that damn bike.

By the time, I was 16 my pops got rid of his steel mill job and told my mother he was finished. Couldn’t take the ragging any longer from her. I chose to go with my pops while my brothers chose to stay with my mother. My pops got a 1 bedroom house a few miles from where I grew up. He had a stripper as a new ol lady, stupid bitch was high or drunk most of the time but she was cool too me. She was one of those broads that would make you shake your head every time she talked. I especially liked her because she would bring her friends over from the strip club all the time. Yea it was a high school kid dream let me tell you.

That dream didn’t last long, when I turned 17, it was May 15th, about 4:30 in the morning I was awakened with Feds, DEA, and ATF busting through the door. It was a coordinated bust that took down half of the club, over 120 agents launched multi- raids throughout the morning. That was the first time I found myself face deep in the ground with some pig yelling at me to stay “The Fuck Still”. My ol man was in the other room screaming up a storm while you heard his dipshit ol lady crying like a bitch always does in situations like that.

The last time I saw my Ol man walking free was that night. As I was laying face down with my head turned, a cop on my back, he was led out of the house. I can still remember that moment in time like it was yesterday, seemed all to go by in slow motion. When they got my ol man out of the house the cop finally lets me up, started asking the bullshit questions. Who are you? What is your relation and crap like that? It took them all day to rummage through the house, me sitting there on the floor the whole time watching as the government laughed and joke about how big the bust was. They got 15 of the guys on RICO charges, Guns, drugs, prostitution. The whole damn case was built by one of the guys turning states rat because he got caught up on a coke charge and didn’t want to do the 5 years.

The hardest point I believe in my life, up to that point, of course, was watching a so-called brother of my Ol Man testifying against everyone on the stand. At 17, it wasn’t something I could comprehend. How the hell could someone do that to their brothers? I kept asking myself that question as he was on the stand, you knew what you were doing, you accepted the risks, but why turn on your club and brothers when you were caught? 5 years, he would have probably got out in 2.5, instead, he chose to rat on everyone. It was not only hard for me to understand, but I could tell pops was taken back by it all. Here is a man he trusted, one who he was with on a daily basis, shit we all use to have dinner over at his house all the time, but here he was testifying against everyone. Yea you can say that would screw with your head a bit.

June 26th the following year all the guys were convicted on all charges, instead of separate trials they all went at it together. I was sitting in the booth right behind my pops when they were all told to rise. Before the judge spoke, my pops turned around to me, “Boy, don’t you ever forget what you see here today, these are true men, true men stand side by side no matter what. Never rat on your brothers, never talk to the police ever, have honor in your word, remain loyal to your beliefs”. 5 minutes after my pops spoke those words his sentence came down. Life without the possibility of parole. He did not show any emotion, he kept his head up high and never once asked the court for mercy.

After everyone received their sentences my pop said: “Well that’s that, take care of yourself, boy, remember what I said”. My pops got assigned to Atlanta Penitentiary in Georgia, I know it had to be hard on him since he was so far away and I couldn’t come visit a lot. He did arrange for me to stay with the clubs new active President “Rooster”, Rooster always watched out for me and pops knew I would be taken care of. After being with my pops and around the club all those years he knew, as well as I did, I could never go back and live with my mom.

Rooster was about 34 and owned a strip club called the “Whiskey Bombs”. Rooster set me up with a room in the back of the club, gave me a job supplying the bar, cleaning up and most important to a kid my age, lots of eye candy every day.

Working and living in the strip club gave me what I needed, “Street Smarts”. You meet all kinds of screwed up people in a strip club, all of whom will try and pull some kind of game on you, the worst being the strippers themselves. Rooster always pounded it into my head, “Don’t ever for a minute trust a stripper, they will steal you blind and then turn around and steal your mother blind”.

Two years went by, I felt like I had the world by the balls until one day Rooster sat me down. “You ol man had a heart attack, he didn’t make it kid”. I was speechless, looked at the wall and couldn’t speak or move, my whole world came crashing down. Rooster sat and told me what had happened, my pops didn’t die alone, he was fortunate to have a couple of brothers serving time with him right by his side. Rooster looked at me after he was done. “You have 30 minutes to cry when I walk out of this room and when I come back in, that will be the last you ever cry for your ol man, you pops wouldn’t have wanted that, today you learn the hard lesson of life. Man up and move on”.

Rooster left the room, I did as he said and mourned my pops passing for those 30 minutes and when he came back he told me to come out to the bar. He had some of the brothers from the club there by then, “This is to “Bear” a true brother, a man of honor, loyalty and most of all, a father”. The guys shouted out and started chugging down drinks, the party lasted a couple of days, it was a gift for me to be a part of that celebration. It showed me just how much my pops was loved and respected, my pops funeral was attended by not only the club brothers but many within the whole biker community, club or not. It was an amazing feeling seeing over 300 bikes, 100 cars lead my pops to his finally resting place in Elmhurst. It was at that time I said to myself ” I’m going to follow in my pops footsteps”. All I ever wanted from that point on was a patch in the same brotherhood he was a part of.

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Motorcycle Club Education- What to know


By James “Topfuel”Macecari

I decided to write this article on Motorcycle Club Education after seeing some people confused on the Internet about some of the stuff that goes on, especially with these Iron Order “Faggots” acting stupid all the time. Motorcycle Clubs is an American tradition, it also happens to be the largest export America has given to the rest of the world, in regards to a lifestyle choice. Some of our biggest domestic clubs have taken over worldwide, outpacing even a countries local club scene. American clubs like the Hells Angels, Outlaws, Bandidos, Mongols all have a big presence in countries like Australia, Britain, Germany, and so many more.

Many people got into the biker lifestyle because of the allure of being a Rebel, the allure of the freedom from societies bullshit, motorcycle clubs embody those two freedoms, most of all, they bring together like-minded individuals who live and breathe nothing but the lifestyle.

The motorcycle club took on an aura unto itself, almost mystic after Hollister. People from all walks of life wanted to be a part of the bad boy image, brothers from all over the country started forming “Brotherhoods”. Brotherhoods united with the single purpose of riding and partying, being there for those in your club, having an extended family. Motorcycle Clubs became the only family some people ever had, clubs showed people what love was for the first time in someone’s life.

Many, including myself, were always a part of the street. Early on growing up in the City of Chicago, a street gang was all we had as kids. Chicago as it is today, was always divided amongst racial lines. I was fortunate as a white boy to grow up in a mostly latino area, the culture I received from friends and their families was unreal. The place where I grew up was a terribly poor place, everyone relied on everyone in the neighbourhood to make it, those years growing up in a gang prepped me for my venture into the Outlaw Biker Lifestyle.

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What many New Jacks, RUBS, don’t understand about the motorcycle club lifestyle is many that make up the club membership come from the streets. The motorcycle club was just the grown up version of where everyone came from in the first place. This is why Loyalty, Honor, and integrity means everything, that’s what everyone knew. Brothers mean everything to that person wearing a patch because they went through the same circumstances in life. When someone who is a member of a real motorcycle club, sees a mail order club like Iron Order, you can bet your ass they will get upset. Why? Because most people in a club, put all their efforts and every ounce of who they are into protecting their traditions and brotherhood. To have cops inside a club, cops who harass those with a patch every chance they get is just fucked up.

Let’s get into some of the educational points of the article. Below is the questions I see the most.

1. How do I approach a club or club member at a rally or other public event?

What I would suggest is go up to their support booth, most clubs have them at gatherings. Clubs make a lot of their money selling the supporting merchandise, you will always have members hanging around the booth. The support table gives you as a civilian, a first chance to have a conversation with some of the club guys. One question I would avoid, How do you join? That question isn’t the brightest of ideas, especially since no one knows you. I would suggest asking if the club has any public functions coming up you could attend to help support the club.

2. I was in a bar, I tried talking to a club guy, but he wouldn’t give me the time of day, why?

This is something that you need to know is common. Shit, I won’t talk to you if I don’t know you, not even to give help with directions. The last thing a club guy will do is talk to someone he don’t know. Don’t take offense by it, most clubs have a lot of politics, just something it is.

3. Why are the women wearing that bullshit “Property Patch”?

Well, that bullshit “Property Patch” should be a very in your face warning. You mess with that ol lady with that patch, you’re not only dealing with the ol man, you’re dealing with the club. That patch is not worn to degrade anyone, it serves as a warning. I actually know women who would do anything to get that patch. Once you understand what it means to women, you’re all over it trying to get it.

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4. It’s America, why do I have to ask the main 1% club if I want to start a club?

What many do not realize, a motorcycle club in a particular area is always under intense scrutiny by that very government you invoke. You cannot go to a party at a 1% club house or any of its affiliates without seeing them out there taking pictures of you, or taking down your license plates. Yes, they will walk right up to your scooter and write your license plate down. In turn, you are now a known associate of that club, even if it’s your first time in that clubhouse. So know that has happened anything you do on the outside will reflect on that club. The Feds love using RICO all the time, they will try and blame what you do as a bigger conspiracy the club is supposedly doing. The other big thing is 1%er clubs don’t want idiots, such as the Iron Order running around town causing trouble. Citizens will automatically blame the 1%er club even though they were nowhere around. These are the main reasons, besides those 1%ers built up their area and deserve the respect from those trying to come into the fold. Besides, doing it the right way opens up a huge opportunity for your club to be involved in parties and other events.

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5. Why shouldn’t I touch a club members patch?

The patch a club member wears is as valuable as his bike. That club member went through hell to get it, it’s not just some piece of cloth. Everything he is a part of is symbolized in that patch, his blood, sweat and tears went into getting it, just like it has with the bike. If you’re not a brother, you have no rights to touch something that is so honored. You didn’t put in the work, time, and effort, plain and simple.

These are just some basic questions and answers, there is so much more that can be said on the subject of motorcycle clubs. There is a site that does have some good basic information that will help you understand more. http://www.rcvsmc.net that site has been around forever, it gives a pretty good overview of the differences in the patches, riding club versus motorcycle club, politics of the motorcycle world and other stuff. If you’re a New Jack, it’s something you should really take a look at, it might actually save you some embarrassment or even an ass whooping.

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Judge in Waco Orders Rats to be named to Defense


“Ruling from the bench, District Judge Matt Johnson ordered the state of Texas “to reveal the identity of confidential informants and undercover law enforcement officials who were either present at Twin Peaks restaurant in Waco, Texas on May 17, 2015 or who were material witnesses related to the incident that took place.” (Source Aging Rebel)

Broden’s discovery motion, granted by Judge Johnson today, seeks to discover the identity of :

“Any witness, whether present at Twin Peaks on May 17, 2015 or not, who might testify that law enforcement officials encouraged the violence at Twin Peaks in order to support its ‘Operation Texas Rocker.’”

“Any witness, whether present at Twin Peaks on May 17, 2015 or not, who could testify that not all members of the Cossacks Motorcycle Club or its support clubs were told that the Bandidos Motorcycle Club would be present at Twin Peaks on May 17,2015.”

“Any witness, whether present at Twin Peaks on May 17, 2015 or not, who could testify that one or more members of the Cossacks Motorcycle Club or its support clubs were told that the May 17,2015 (event) was a ‘peace offering’ meeting.”

“Any witness, whether present at Twin Peaks on May 17, 2015 or not, who could testify that one or more members of the Cossack Motorcycle Club or its support clubs were told that the May 17, 2015 was merely a ‘Funday Sunday’ outing.” (Source The Aging Rebel).

In a win for the clubs involved and hopefully around the United States the judge was right in ousting these so called Confidential Informants. For one these people are the lowest of the low. Put there to aid in a conspiracy under the premise of saving their own ass because they screwed up and now have to bring others into the mix cause of their screw ups. I often tries to fathom how a person who was a so called brother or friend could sit there and look you in the eye day to day and pretend to be something they were not. The only reason they were around you was to get your ass thrown in prison because they couldn’t live up to their own mistakes.

Our justice system is god awful when it takes someone who has clearly committed a crime and uses them to get others who are innocent to commit a crime just for the sake of the cops investigation. It has been a proven fact in a lot of the RICO cases that have happened over the years were started because of these kinds of people. Cops would actually instruct these CI’S to go in and get other members to commit crimes. After the take down what happens? The Rat goes on his merry way to Witness Protection leaving a bunch of brothers and sisters behind in the joint.

Undercover cops are one thing. They are already known pricks and liars. Can you imagine though waking up one morning in a jail cell knowing your brother or best friend you known for years put you there to save his own ass? That is a feeling many brothers and sisters feel today because it has happened to them. They sit in the prison cell going over and over in their mind how in the hell the situation ever got that far. How is it someone that you had over for your kids birthdays or went out for a beer turned you in for something that was probably a set up the whole time?

Honor and Loyalty is something of the past. It is all about a people caring for themselves and nothing else. People have been taught by the government to rely on them instead of themselves. This is why you see millions of people staying home from work and letting the government pay their way. This is why you see all these rats popping up when they get in trouble. “I was bad so the Government will have to make a deal with me so I can walk free”. People have been programmed to believe in this shit thinking. I wonder how in the hell these kind of people look at themselves in the mirror? Oh yea that’s right. That’s all those punks and slime know, they don’t have anyone else but themselves in mind.

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Rogue Goverment Vs Outlaws Mc


 Today let’s look into just how bad the Police Departments around the country are getting. The Outlaws MC in Illinois are fighting to get vests back that belong to the club after a fight that broke out in a local bar. Now mind you that the property is the clubs and not that of any individual. The Government is claiming that the patches are gang related and push gang activity and should not be giving back. Mind you the Lizard Lounge is in unincorporated Wonder Lake. Why does that sound so familiar? It happens to be where that jagoff cop committed suicide and had everyone in the area looking for 3 armed men. The same officer and wife is accused of stealing thousands from a youth program. This is who Wonder Lake has working for them.

Kyle Mandernack- Mchenry County Deputy told a judge recently and I quote “The vests are directly related to facilitate street gang-related crime.” I proudly present dipshit.

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Now the Outlaws MC have the Constitution and case law on their side .The United States Supreme Court, in a case called Roberts v. United States, had already laid down the general ground rules about which symbols are legal: “An individual’s freedom to speak, to worship, and to petition the government for the redress of grievances could not be vigorously protected from interference by the State unless a correlative freedom to engage in group effort toward those ends were not also guaranteed. According protection to collective effort on behalf of shared goals is especially important in preserving political and cultural diversity and in shielding dissident expression from suppression by the majority. Consequently, we have long understood as implicit in the right to engage in activities protected by the First Amendment a corresponding right to associate with others in pursuit of a wide variety of political, social, economic, educational, religious, and cultural ends.” (Source the Aging Rebel)

This government is moving towards a Australia type of law. In Oz they have made it almost impossible to wear colors or express your basic human right of association. Brothers or in Oz get constant harassment from the police, police are able to use this law on anyone who is wearing a patch. A person is even barred from owning a tattoo shop if your friends with anyone in a club. This is what the cops here in the states want. It’s not enough they have the god complex, they want it all. Total control over the citizens of this country. Cops have the politicians in the back pocket. The poor me bullshit of risking their lives on a daily basis argument gets them alot.

The government is in the process of trying to use copyright laws and more to take the Mongols patch away. So where is the outcry? This is basic first Amendment rights being targeted and the general population is content to let it happen. This government is going to any lengths to control the population. Time to wake up people and see exactly what those people in office are trying to do.

The Outlaws Motorcycle Club appealed and Rabb told the Second District Appellate Court in Elgin, Illinois that the confiscation was a Constitutional issue. He said, “Wearing the vest in and of itself is not a crime,”

When the judges asked Assistant State’s Attorney Jana Blake Dickson why the state wanted to keep the patches, she replied, “I imagine getting the patches off the street” would make “it harder to use (them) as a threat.” (Source Aging Rebel)

The argument the ASA made on why the government should keep the vests is an outright joke. It’s like saying if I’m wearing a Triumph Patch and the ASA and cops dont like Triumphs it should be banned because it causes too much friction with Harley Riders and it should be outlawed so they prevent any violence. Come on you dumb idiots at least make a reasonable argument.

This is the kind of government we have now. People just sit back and go about their lives and never question them. They wonder why things get so bad down the road. If you don’t hold your reps accountable then you deserve everything you get. Hopefully the Outlaws will win this case. If they don’t it will be used by every cop department to finally get the OZ law they have been dreaming about.

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