Freeze Flame Productions Inc

Friday, December 31, 2010

Set Backs & Milestones: The Rizes & Falls



Part 23: Mini Biography Vol. 6


Here is Volume 4 of the Auto Biography of Freeze Flame, this Volume falls in line with the previous entry, as it was a very trying time... it's musical relevance is still in tact, however, at this point in my life, all things music got put on hold while my outside life was falling apart, and I attempted to put it back together to some degree. As the Sauga continues, stay tuned for the next entries...



The AutoBiography of Freeze Flame:
Vol. 4, The Progression (Release Date)




With big plans in mind, only a few ideas of how to achieve them, many other obstacles stood in the way of young Red. First, Red's release date May 15, 1997, 12 full months to the day of his sentencing. Red was still a young offender and therefore parole did not exist and had to serve every last day of his sentence...

Earlier in the year, Red had been accepted and enrolled in a community school and was considered to be making huge strides in his own recovery and reintegration, however, with all things, progress is slow. The internal struggle to get back to a normal life, and also move forward in his was very important. Red swore to himself that he could prove everybody wrong who had doubted him over the last couple years...

Red's Musical aspirations were put on hold temporarily while he figured out his next moved. His release date also happened to be a school day, and had prepared for that in some minor ways, mainly getting all his stuff out of the house and into a place for at least some kind of storage. He had been slowly packing a series of lockers with his possessions over a period of time leading up to his release. It worked fairly well, but still had quite a load on release day, and took the rest to school the same day...

The second obstacle of Red's release was living accommodations. Although, there was a plan, that was a requirement of release, or get stuck in another group home set up for after care... The plan was to move into a friend's home in Hamilton, ON. That presented a challenge considering Red still had 6 weeks left in the semester, plus exams...

Red was intent on finishing the semester, successfully, and would do whatever necessary. With this semester completed that would put him within 5 credits of graduation, less than one full year...

The living situation was set in motion only days prior to Red's release, and was able to get temporary help from a friend in Mississauga... Where Red would live until the school year was complete. The only problem this presented was transportation, but he thought it was just a small roadblock, but do able.

Red's Probation was another hurdle to get over, or organize... They were able to delay the first meeting until the move to Hamilton, roughly scheduled for July 1997.

For Red, growing and maintaining his musical empire was a journey in itself... his initial idea was to pick his team, and give them a guide of sorts... He knew his "friends," and had a good idea of the stories they could bring to the table. What he didn't know was that they really had no interest in telling them as he did. Red's personal journey was one of survival and the stories he lived on the day to day were something he felt needed to be told in some form...

Music, writing, poetry, visual, were some thoughts in his mind, but where to start and who to choose?


Red had been writing lyrics for a few years by that point, however, not to music, so it was more poetic or spoken word style than his love, Hip Hop... However, he believed it fit. Every once in awhile when Red mentioned his plan among his group of friends, some of their notes, or stories would surface... Red was always eager to read what they had to say, their own stories and struggles with reaching their own ambitions in life....

Yet another obstacle for Red's plan was simply escaping the old neighbourhood's strangle hold on his life, it always seemed to drag him back in, or pull him back... He thought getting through the semester successfully and moving down to Hamilton would start a ripple effect of change, but again wasn't sure of what would happen.

Red was able to complete the semester, and made the move to Hamilton. Upon moving to Hamilton, he made every effort to stay positive and productive. He already got his license, but it was just a learners, so decided to look into a driving school to shorten the process of obtaining the next level. He looked for a job, but set up for failure by his first probation officer...

The transition from young offender to reformed citizen, and from city to city, and even from homeless to housed proved to be very challenging. As the new probation officer set in motion a series of events that would turn a volatile situation into a brick wall road block on the way to progress.

The P.O. noticed that Red's probation order required him to seek treatment, among other things, such as notify any and all employers of his legal situation, including details of convictions and charges... this was also true for living accommodation, the same information was supposed to be disclosed to any and all landlords, etc... this was made more difficult when Red was also told he was prohibited from living with his family...

After a few weeks of unsuccessful job search, Red's Hamilton friend gave him notice that she needed him to move out, as he was unable to pay the rent set for him, and wasn't making much progress... With that notice Red decided that he was going to go back the school that allowed him to attend, even though he was a young offender in custody.

They again allowed him to enrol based on his past year's performance. That acceptance now presented a new set of challenges that were happening already, but to find an apartment, transfer his probation back to Toronto, and figure out a way to pay for all this. Red was able to find and secure a place to live, then proceeded to tell his probation officer that he would require a transfer...

The transfer back to Toronto would require Red to inform the new landlord of his legal situation, and that is when everything fell apart.... (again)

First, it left him without a legal place to live, his parents reluctantly let him stay at their house while he went back to school initially... the transfer did not get completed, to Toronto... and eventually, ended up in Mississauga.

Second, the new arrangement with probation found out that he was living with his parents and was set to breach his conditions, unless he moved out immediately, making him instead move into a shelter... the only one of which allowed him, as a youth, was Covenant House... before this could happen, however, the school found out he was living outside the school board's district and kicked him out, among others in a sweep that found the school's population weeded down from over 3000 students, to less than half.

Now without a school, and a home, Red was back out on the street corner in his old neighbourhood, a place where he found comfort among friends, even if those friends weren't all they were cracked up to be, they still allowed him to sleep on the couch or wherever he could find a spot... Appreciative, but disappointed in only himself.

It was to late in the semester to re-enrol into a new school, so he looked for work, or made work with his friends... making money in every way they knew how.... The path he thought he left behind, but continued to be drawn back into...

Red felt, back then, that this wasn't a terrible thing... there was something deep down that made him want to live the life, but in a much more successful way than he had been shown... By this point, it was nearing the end of 1997, and the time had passed quickly since his release.

He couldn't go home, without being in school, but he soon found work, but it didn't last for lack of sleep from living nowhere most of the time... he ended up returning to his original high school, attending classes that were big enough that he wasn't noticed by the teacher because he was not enrolled as an active student.

It was nearing Christmas, and a friend's family extended an invitation to join them for Christmas Eve and Day... Red accepted and was very appreciative...

It was around this time, when Red, sat down with his Probation officer and tried to discuss the situation at hand, what he wanted to do with his life, and what was standing in the way. Somehow, he finally was able to get through to that PO behind the desk, and she began working with him to help him succeed rather than trying to set his life back in order to reoffend, after all, Red's 18th birthday had passed without a thought, and he was now an adult in the eyes of the law...

By now, many thought that Red's idea of a musical element had faded, but his dreams were more of an achievable goal, that he had set his sights on... every dollar he made was set to be used towards it, after bills and such, of course...

Red knew he could not rely on others for this, he still needed a team, but that aspect could wait, or maybe show itself down the road.... All he knew at this time, was that we wasn't in the right place in his life, and changes needed to be made, again... He constantly felt as he was starting over, and this feeling wouldn't be the last...

1997, was a very trying time for a still young Red Brown. He was glad it was coming to an end, though unsuccessful on the job front as well as the school front, he still kept hope alive for both.

Music, was the passion that burned, however, and he wouldn't stay away... his real belief thrived in his heart and mind, Hip Hop had saved his life, and he wanted it to do the same for as many people as he possibly could. That was no longer his goal, it was his mission... until his mission was acknowledged or accomplished he would not sleep, so to speak.... he had managed to stay out of trouble up til this point, and was determined to share his story with whomever would listen...



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Set Backs & Milestones: The Rizes & Falls


Part 22:  Reckless In The Last Days


With my new found partial freedom, I was figuring out ways to abuse it at every turn.... Not that I really should have or anything, it was just something that started happening... Work and school were introducing me to new people and new connections of sorts, allowing me to indulge in recreational vices....

Although, my personal drug of choice was just an occasional joint or what not, I seemed to be able to get a hold just about anything... it started with small amounts hidden in hard to find places, kept for myself when I found the time or on the way to work or after school...  However, I still found myself following my old self imposed rules for drug use...

As the quantities increased, so did the type and variety, and the quality...  

I was once given an ounce of Mushrooms, and another ounce of weed, to do what I wanted with... basically I kept the weed for myself, on my personal time, but smuggled both packages into the house strapped to my leg...  that night was pretty unforgettable...

I started with eating what I wanted for myself, then slowly handing small amounts off to other guys, until half the house was tripping off the shrooms...  keep in mind we were in custody living in a group home... 

The house rules were that we were only  allowed upstairs more than one at a time without staff.... there was on point when we had about eight of us in one the rooms on the top floor... We were having a little party, music on blast, etc... 

There was other nights like that, but different substances, mainly done by individuals upon request...

There was many nights I came home from work, or a visit completely blitz'd out of my mind.... I never really got caught or questioned at all, until on night.... One of our staff, an old School Jamaican man, who was a drinker.... looked at me one night as I re-entered the house after a visit... and simple gave me a chuckle... and waited for the reaction of some of the other guys... who knew as soon as they looked at me...

After he confirmed it with the others, he pulled me aside and we had a long discussion about life, more or less... he really didn't give any trouble, we were both a bit lifted now that I think of it, and just sat talking for a few hours... it was a pretty interesting conversation that I wouldn't be able to repeat for the life of me, even the next day....

On one of my own adventures that I embarked, another half ounce of shrooms to last me a few weeks, or to share... I was suffering from severe tooth pain, which I ended up needing a root canal for....... So, I decided to chomp down on some one afternoon on the way to the dental surgen.... I must have ate about a quarter  ounce before  the pain started to numb even a little bit... I proceeded to go through with a root canal while I was high on Mushrooms...  I was the weirdest feeling I've ever had while high on any substance...

You know when you're at the dentist and they have the vacuum to suck up all the saliva the builds up at the back of your throat... I remembered that while I was getting my root canal, and started to panic, and ask them to use the vacuum...  they did, but my throat was bone dry... I got a bit of a laugh out of that at the time...   

Well before that day, when I found out I had a bad tooth, or nerve... the Nerve from one tooth was actually rubbing on the nerve from the tooth next to it...  After the hospital doctor told the house worker that it was ok it give me pain killers, they started feeding me them.... at least two every 2 hours, maybe more at times....  It got to a point where I lost track and I was actually high on the pain killers... 

We were on an outing in High Park, one night, to get some air... I was already totally out of it, but I climbed a small hill to the top, and saw a park bench so I stood up on it and hung my body over the back of it and threw up and couple times... When it was over, I was completely out of it, high as a kite and feeling no pain at all...

I was still a couple months away from release, but I was getting restless... and testing my limits more and more, without actually running away...  I had long commutes and longer days at work... 

I was finding ways to skip school from time to time, to hang out with a couple girls that I met at school, they took me out for drinks one afternoon at a local pool hall nearby the school...  They were underage, for drinking... and I didn't want to pay for it... so it took most of the afternoon to get our alcohol.... nice girls, but it was kind of a waste of time, so I was able to duck out and check in with the house before I left the area... 

The was one time when I had a dental appointment, leading up to my root canal... where I had to travel clear across the city to get there and back.  On my way back I decided to take a walk through my old neighbourhood... I was trying to be discreet and see if my friends would even recognize me.  It took a few minutes, and I almost walked right past them before the noticed me.... but soon there was a little celebration at my presence, honestly too, I was glad to see them as well...

I made myself leave and head back to the house, against the requests of my friends... they wanted me to stay, but I was still in custody and if I had stayed would have been charged all over again... That was the first time I may have done the right thing for myself... And I was glad I did... 

Although, I tried to make it my good bye to the neighbourhood, and my friends... because by that point I knew when I was getting out, and what I had to do when I got out, so I was trying to abide by the arrangements and do what was good for myself at the time...

My release date was coming fast, and I was trying not to fuck it up, I still had 2 full years of probation to complete after being released.... I swore to myself that the first time I went to jail was going to be the last and only time I had to... 

By this point, I was both valuing what freedom I already enjoyed, but looking forward to getting out... in turn, the freedoms that I already had were making me abuse them at every chance I got... Luckily, my recklessness made me very cautious... and I was able to get away with a lot, because I had planned so much with the time I had to think about things... 

Early on, when I was transfered to the house in Toronto, the Doctor had tried me on some psychiatric medication... it happened to be an anti-depressant, the side effects it had on me were totally opposite to what they were supposed to be... it was suppose to awaken me, and make me more UP..... but what happened was I slept, I was completely useless for about a month while I tried to get used to the adjustments in the dose.... after that I just had to stop taking it... 

It wasn't until later in my sentence that the Doctor tried again... This time it was an anti-psychotic medication, and was very powerful... because I was again smoking weed heavily at the time, it combined with the meds also had a counter affect... I found that if I was high, or had been high recently and took my medication, it would make me very aggravated, or  irritable...  It was much easier to set me off, while on the medication.... I told the Doctor that, and I didn't like the feeling and quickly took myself off it, telling the doctor that I wasn't ready for it...

As my time came to an end, so did my meetings with the Doctor, and my drug use stabilized or evened out... Now it was time to prepare for my release...














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Set Backs & Milestones: The Rizes & Falls



Part 21: Back 4 The First Time


After the allotment of time spent in the detention center in Guelph, I was finally picked up by a couple guys from the treatment center sent out to drive me down to the next group home... I was headed back to Toronto for the first time in years, or so it felt...

I was delivered to the next group home and that was where I stayed until my time was finished...  This house happened to be a treatment facility too, just much different than the one before, right in the middle of the city... Talking to the doctor was mandatory at first, in part to assess where the young offender's head was at, but also what route to take in terms of treatment of posible medications...  

The intake process was fairly long, about a week, but as soon as it was finished I was allowed to have visitors... The first visitors I had had in months, since being in secure custody... I hadn't been anywhere long enough since to earn a visit.  

I was allowed to see my family for the first time in quite a long time...It was August 1996, but as soon as September came around, I was immediately enrolled into the school or the house which was a short distance away on the subway... So I was also given a travel pass to get around the city, as well as bus fare....

Each day we were let out of the house alone and given different route to get to school, in order for us not to be hanging out together on the way to school... My route was really easy, most of the guys would wait for each other and travel together anyway, I just went the way I knew how to get there...

I felt a little out of place at first, especially at  the school... The teachers were ok, they seemed to care about helping some of us...It was awhile before I was allowed to go home for a weekend pass... I needed a challenge in my schooling in order to keep me interested, so the teacher gave me book to read and wanted me to do a book report on it...  

The book was The Chrysalids, the report became a project the inspired my writing talent once again, one the report became a document that encouraged the staff to help me get into a community school before I left custody....

The book report became more of an essay, and I was asked if it was ok if they published it in some industry journal that was internal for the company that ran the house and the school.  I never thought it would be that big of deal, and I never got to keep a copy of it either, something I regret still to this day... 

Writing had always been an interest of mine, I just never had the words to explain what I really wanted to say...  I did mostly creative writing back then, stories that weren't real, that may have been where I hit a wall...

When I started writing this book report, it just flowed like water, it was related to the story, but I took it and made it my own... relating aspects of the story line, plot, etc... to aspects of my life that I wanted to change in order to improve my life, change my ways and  get on a path....

The teacher thought this way of relating the book to my own life was very unique, especially considering that the book was something of sci-fi story... 

When Christmas came around this time, I was able to go home for the first time.  I was given a five day pass to go home for Christmas... So I left the group home on Christmas day and spent the time with my family, and was able to have some friends over to visit in the days that followed...   

It was the new year before I new it, I was trying to improve my life in as many ways as I possibly could.... I requested that I take my initial driver's license test, the written test...  I was able to and pass it on the first try...  I was also able to enter into a training program for kitchen work, prep cook, etc.. and started working on the weekends, and still had time to join the house on their outings to the gym and what not... I had been able to get weekend passes to go home almost every weekend, so I was going home and to work on the weekends, and then returning to the house afterwards...

It wasn't until February 1997, that I was able to get into a Community school, right at the last minute, just in time to choose my classes and start attending... because of my personal situation, I had to report to the house every time I got to school and before I left... This was my routine for the remainder of my time, I was able to schedule work for after school, this allowed me to have a little more freedom at time, then my home visits... let me out for short periods of time over night on the weekends....

It felt as if life was getting back to normal, there was still a few obstacles to overcome before I was really free... Probation being one of them...   




  
  
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Set Backs & Milestones: The Rizes & Falls


Part 20:  Choices Vol. 4, A Milestone, or an Escape?


I was delivered to my temporary group home, sometime in the early evening the day I was sentenced.... having not eaten anything all day, as well as missing the house's dinner time  I was allowed to enter the kitchen and get something to eat...  Something, I was not used to anymore, open access to a kitchen?  felt strange for a moment, but I got used to it quickly.... And I was much hungrier than I thought...

After my intake and introductions to the house rules and staff, etc... I was given a bed in a shared room.  It was a  really big old house, with about 12 guys in it, that I met shortly after, many of which I had already met either inside or outside.... a few of the guys were actually from my neighbourhood and that made it easier to settle in, and I quickly forgot that I was only supposed to be there for a few weeks while a spot opened up at the so called treatment facility I had been sentenced to...

Other than actually being in custody and not being allowed to go where ever I wanted, I made the best of the situation.  I would go out every chance I got just to see the sunlight again, it felt like I hadn't seen it in years...  the first time we went to the corner store, I was surprised to see a huge coin that replaced the $2 bill, they called it a Toonie... I didn't even know what it was and asked for my real change...  

We mostly went for walks around the neighbourhood, so the guys could smoke, I went to get out of the house, walk and get some air, REAL air... something I no longer took for granted, but knew could easily be taken away again at any moment.  I knew why I was sentenced to a treatment facility, I had used a lot of drugs over the years and had met with people from a program... I found out quickly that most people that entered the program did so to get out of a secure jail sentence, and into an open custody...

I guess, in some way that may have been my original thinking too, but when it came down to it... I did have to deal with my own issues, demons, addictions... what ever they may have been at the time.  I never really considered myself a drug addict, but found that when access to what I liked was available, I really felt no reason to turn it down...

There seemed to always be ample opportunity to get something or share what was already there... the guys who had visitation were bringing it in all the time.... I never really asked from where, and they were always eager to share anyway...  the steam from the showers usually dulled the smell, and masked the smoke... but one night right before I was to be transfered, me and a few guys smoked a joint... I was really high, having been sober for so long.... Almost as soon as I left the washroom, I was confronted by my case worker and reminded why I was there... and made aware of where I was going, etc... 

I knew he knew, he knew I knew he knew.... but he just stressed to me that it was my chance to change my life for the better, and had a really good opportunity to do so... he asked me what I wanted to do, whether I would rather stay at the house in Brampton, or go to the treatment facility.... I told him I would go, and he said to me that I made the right decision... I just thought It might be the right time to follow through...

The morning of my next transfer, I was forced to miss an outing that I enjoyed because I was supposed to pack and get ready... I don't recall exactly what happened or why, but I must have had a moment of second thought.  I had grown comfortable in my new surroundings and a part of me didn't want to move again... I was left alone in my room to get my stuff ready, etc... 

It was a short time later that I wanted to ask my worker a question, so I went looking for a staff member and when I came down stairs there was nobody in the house at all... The office was empty, there was an office at the back of the kitchen that the director used, he was on the phone and waved me off... Then I noticed somebody on the front porch, so I went to see who it was.  One of the female staff was smoking of to the side, so I asked if I could come out there.  She allowed me to join her, and I asked where everybody was...  

When the director of the house came out of his office, he saw the front door open and only me standing outside, so he assumed that I was trying to run, and called the police... Moments later they arrived and dragged me inside, and now I was waiting for another transfer, not to where I was supposed to go.... but back to where I had just left a few weeks ago...

They called it a 24.2.9 transfer, for  a youth going back to secure lock up from Open custody.  I went back to the same jail, different area.  I guess it had again been overflowing with young offenders, so the had to take over one of the female cell blocks on the upper levels.  I sat there doing nothing for about four days before the new house came and picked me up.  

I ran into a lot of people that I knew already though, many of those guys that were going in and out of jail on a regular basis... I talked to one, he was clearly getting tired of the lifestyle and sounded very different than the first time we met... I also ran into a childhood friend from the outside that I hadn't seen in years... 

When they finally came to pick me up, I was great full once again to be leaving that place behind... It was the last time I saw it from the inside.  Maybe a little over a year or so later, they closed it down for young offenders and transfered them all to a different jail in the City... By the time my sentence was up, I was almost an adult anyway.

This time, I was headed up to a small town north of Guelph, ON... completely different jurisdiction, in a little farming community. This was the treatment facility where I was supposed to spend my next 11 months now as it would be... The place was co-ed and mainly for young offenders from surrounding areas in Ontario.  It also was supported by their original location in Montreal, which was a voluntary treatment facility for drug addiction mainly for adults.  This place had a select few from that program, as well as some younger kids that weren't in custody but struggling with their own issues and under the care of children's aid...

Ironically, the day I arrived I wasn't the only one entering the program.  One of the guys that was in the departure cell on my final day in the cage was also there.  I had met him before, he was aright... I hadn't yet decided if this place was for me, a milestone to my change in life, or an escape from a longer jail sentence.  I was willing to give it a shot and determine that along the way...

The place was nice, it was on a big property surrounded by farms... cornfields mostly.  There was a river running through the one side of the property.  They had their own school and laundry, etc.. As for the treatment aspect.... It turned out to be much different than I was expecting.  The counsellors that ran the place were actually graduates of the program, nice people, with real experiences to share...  That is pretty much what we did, share in groups, or one to one.... the rest of the time was spent doing chores and cleaning, with some free time for recreation here and there...

The male section was two large dorms at one end of the main building, and the girls lived in what could be describe as the original house, upstairs... we all interacted during the day, the only time we didn't was at night after lights out... This place had a very high turn over rate, and I soon found out why...

First it was one, the it was two, then they started going in groups... Once the summer started and the weather got nice, guys and girls started running, and because we were all technically still in jail, they were escaping custody.  I started to believe that some of these people got transfered there just for that purpose eventually... just so they could escape.  The majority of them were eventually caught and charged...

As I watched my new friends come and go, and tried to make my best effort to complete the program... They were just not letting me make progress.  I was denied visitation on many occasions, I tried to work the program, but it just didn't work for me... They seemed to structure the program around the control over people cigarettes.  Everybody was allowed to have 5 cigarettes per day, depending on their behaviour... I didn't smoke, so I would collect cigarettes for a friend or two, and we would then trade them for things....

When we were eventually caught, they found that with holding my cigarettes wasn't going to work as discipline for me, so they just started denying my level increases, and making life difficult in other ways...

The day I was transfered out, again a 24.2.9 transfer, back to secure custody, different jail, different county... I was making an attempt to up my level, and gain a visitation pass... in order to do this I had to take part in a group share and be open and honest... and explain myself and why I deserved this pass, etc... 

I guess something triggered me, and the counsellor really pissed me off when he denied me yet again... I got mad and threw a chair across the room.... As I was waiting for the bus to take me away, approximately 8 guys took off within about a two hour time... I must have been asked about four times to go with them.. I chose to wait...and wait is what I did... it took all day.  I think they were expecting me to run as well...

I went to Wellington County Detention Center, and there I sat doing a whole lot of nothing for the maximum time a 24.2.9 can, just under 2 full weeks... In this place, there was no supervision. and we spent the major portion of the day in our cells... so I slept most of the time... While I waited.... this place was a real shit whole... 

I learned much later, that around the same time I was there, a young offender was killed while in custody, but I wasn't surprised, not even a little....





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Thursday, December 30, 2010

Set Backs & Milestones: The Rizes & Falls



Part 19:  The Final Days in the Cage



Although, the final days in the cage refers to time spent in jail, and court house holding, etc... this was not the end.  The final days in the cage, wasn't  gearing up for release, rather it was the beginning of the sentence, after having been somewhat pressured into pleading guilty to the charges...

To my surprise, the amount of fighting I was subject to was few and far between among my fellow inmates, however the amount of beatings I was subject to on behalf on pissed off jail guards was much more...  we weren't aware of this, but the time we spent on locked down during the strike was in part because of a huge riot at young offender facility out near Lake Huron, called BlueWater.  Their riot had lasted a few days, and was very destructive... the after effects on the young offenders involved, and any of them that were simply incarcerated there were some experiences that I learned of much later, through first hand meetings with the survivors.

My final days in the cage, were brutal in their own way... when things were good, or calm... we were able to clean our cells on a daily basis... The time during the strike, that was not happening.... then one day, the guards decided to implement their owns rules for visitation.  Basically, if you had a visitor, and wanted to see them, you were subject to a strip search before attending, and upon returning....  even though most visits were through glass, and not in person.  I thought this was a load of bullshit.  

The first time I was subject to this new rule, I was reluctant, and didn't believe it... I thought the guards were just fucking with me to get me to react.  After my visit, I returned for my strip search, then was returned to my cell... and moments later, the guards came onto the range to toss the cells and conduct yet another strip search... This time I refused.  The next few hours I was isolated while they finished their searches on the other ranges... then I was given another chance to obey, or suffer the consequences.  I chose to refuse, so I was held down by four guards while already handcuffed, spread eagle... while they cut my clothes off with scissors...

Afterwards, for my refusal I was given a swift beating by those guards and others that were nearby... I counted at least five or six.  Not too sure how conscious I was or even if I was... It was an attempt to break my spirit, but after that I wasn't concerned with whether or not I could win a fight, just how hard I could fight... if fighting came into the picture.

Before that event there was only a few instances that I really felt the need to fight, afterwards, fighting wasn't really on my mind... it was more about making life difficult for the guards and banding together with our fellow inmates, against their treatment of us...

For the most part, court was finished, I was just waiting for news of the next step in the process...  My lawyer told me that she was able to get a plea deal, for a few months of Open custody, as well as probation upon release... When I agreed to a few months, I thought maybe three to six months.... when the sentence came down I was given 12 months more, of open custody, and 2 years of probation to follow my release... 

The night before my final court date, I was still unaware of this deal... But understood that their was some kind of treatment element involved within the sentence...

On my final day within the cage, it kind of ended the way it all started... This time I wasn't so worried about it... The morning of, everybody that was headed to court was shuffled off the ranges and into the departure area.  I was stuck in the cell with the most people, well over ten, most had only been there for a couple days and were expected to make bail, so they didn't know me, or how long I had been there and what I was capable of... probably didn't care though either...

There was at least one guy, that had been on my range... our breakfast came in and as I reached for the tray, the toast got snatched, so I knocked it over and went for the next tray, same thing happened.... so this time I grabbed the tray, dumped it out... kicked over the rest of the trays so nobody was eating.... and proceeded to hit anybody that looked at me with the tray in my hands... 

I got a few shots in on a few guys, before I was hit from behind with the juice jug... I was standing on top of what would have been the bed in a normal cell, slipped on the juice and fell into the pit of kicking boots and shoes... As soon as I stood up, I was yanked out of the cell by the back of my collar... the guard dragged me a few cells down and literally through me in as I tried to squirm free, not knowing who it was...

I had a quiet day of waiting, during the court process, they had no more room on the men's side and had to keep me on the female holding cells.... there was no women there that day...

I was there longer than normal, everybody had left back to the jail house, or got bail... I was being sentenced and transfered... 

One of the guys I was fighting with that morning ended up in the bull pen across from me... he got his bail, but apparently got in a fight in the holding cells and was charged again... he was pretty upset when they guards told him he wasn't leaving... I laughed at him, just to piss him off a little bit which did not impress him...

As my final day in the cage approached its end, I was pretty exhausted from the long day, the missed breakfast, and maybe the few lumps I received, but I didn't back down, and I never gave up....  But I was glad to get out of the place for the first time in what seemed like forever, but was not much more than six months... 

In that short time, I never left... but saw the same group of guys come and go multiple times... Pre-Trial Custody, also known as Dead Time, is just that dead - time.... as if life goes on without you on the outside, but every single day feels like 3... time almost seems to stop and drag on in slow motion...

My next trip on the jail bus was to a group home in Brampton, to await another transfer to the treatment facility to which I had been sentenced to serve the next 12 months... 


  



      

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Set Backs & Milestones: The Rizes & Falls

Part 18:  Mini Biography Vol. 5



This is Volume 3 of the Auto Biography of Freeze Flame.  This takes place around the same time period as the previous few entries, however, focuses on different events significant to Freeze Flame's Development over the years, it may also serve as some of the first inspirations to make Freeze Flame into a reality.



The Auto-Biography of Freeze Flame:
Vol. 3, The (His)-Story & The Flame Judgement

With big plans ahead, and thousands of ideas of how to make those plans a reality, Young Red had just hit a roadblock in the form of one of the more major setbacks to affect his young life. This setback, however, would lay a foundation for several milestones over the next few years, that would change the path of this young man for the rest of his life. Red, was arrested and taken into Police custody later the same night of the fire...

The full affects of what was yet to come, was something that Young Red could not comprehend totally at the time. After the charge was laid, Arson, and the police began to ask questions and make threats in order to get what they really wanted, mainly, a confession and also to have less work to do with regards to an investigation.

The Police were the first to make their judgement. As much as the law says otherwise, one is usually guilty in the eyes of the arresting Police officer before anything else. The real fear didn't set in until the cops dropped Red off at the jail house, and welcomed him to his NEW home...

Over the next six months, Red was stuck inside a jail cell night after night, left to wonder when or if he was going to be released... even when he was released where would he go? He was at that point, all Alone. The friends Red thought he had on the outside, began to slowly dissappear, his family was not ready to discuss the situation or the incident at the root of it all....

Red still had his Musical aspirations, and a small plan that was given time to expand in size and scope, he also met a few characters inside that would fuel an inspiration for the Music, and more esspecially Hip Hop Culture... it was a good year, 1995 Hip Hop was at a peak. Wu Tang was huge, the South was rizing, The West Coast was bangin Steady & Canadian Hip Hop was on lock down. Red stood face-to-face with some of Toronto's deepest underground MC's and aspiring rappers...

Due to the charges, Red had no real home any longer. His friends had left him to fend for himself, his family didn't want anything to do with him, he believed they thought of him as a lost cause. His lawyer didn't believe a word he said, and inturn, Red did not trust her either... The first couple months was the hardest. Once or twice a week sometimes, Red was transported to court houses or mental hospitals to be assessed... Not always something he looked forward to.

After the Third month or so, the court dates slowed to a halt. Now being put off for months at a time. Leaving Red, to deal with his surroundings as best he knew how... to fit in, and get fit, Never back down, being observant rather than dominant, it worked for what it was worth. Red just didn't want to accept it or get used to it, there was more to life for him...

When Red was assigned to his first cell, he started to meet some interesting people, most of them older than he was. Having spent much of their young life in jail already they were able to school Red in the lifestyle and give him bits of advice here and there...

One thing Red began to notice was that once he began to make "friends," He also realized that for the most part, those friends weren't real, but very similar to his friends on the outside. The act may have been geniune, but the actual friendship was very limited.

To pass the day, these young offenders were left out of there cells on the range, able to watch tv and play cards or what not... One day, it just started, a couple of guys gathered and started a cipher. One or two guys banging a beat out on the table or beat boxing, the rest taking turns freestyling. Red watched for the most part, taking in the lyrics and the styles... all of this fueled the fire of his musical ideas.

What he witnessed was truly artistic, the most basic beat, not something you would hear today... with all the sounds available these days... Two fists banging on a stainless steel table, a bit of a baseline sounded out with the sounds of one's mouth. Lyrics that flowed steadily off the top of the head, stories & punchlines to catch the attention of people... It would have made a great documentary about the positive aspects of Music, as well as Hip Hop Music. That thought went into the memory bank and the idea catalogue.

Red witnessed this collective work many hundreds of time while incarcerated, different groups of guys doing the same basic things... The second cell mate Red was assigned to happened to be Native as well. The two hit it off and quickly became friends. He had a talent for beat boxing that he was developing as well as a knack for the guitar. He was able to sneak it in to the cell one night before lock down, and went on to play for most of the night.... The Playlist was Metallica & Nirvana, he knew a lot of the lyrics too...

It got to the point where Red was not going to court much at all anymore, his list of phone numbers had dwindled as people asked him not to call any more, as people moved away, as he realized who his real friends were... he thought it very ironic that he was arrested and sent away right at the time when he was really beginning to feel a change in his lifestyle, on the outside.

It took about six months, but in May 1996, Red was handed a FLAME judgment and sentenced to 12 months, plus probation upon release. This was a shock, but he finally new that he would eventually get out. He was transeferred to an open custody group home to wait to be transfered to another in a few weeks.

Red's young life had been left in Limbo at this point for almost a year, and would not be able to continue for quite some time. He began again, to plan his strategy for his release which he waited for patiently, having every chance and opportunity to escape with the ones who decided to run. Red must have been asked to do so in groups and indvidually atleast 50 times.

Red was reintroduced to many of the guys he had contact with on the inside, as well as many more that he met througout his time. Upon his transfer he was sent to a treatment facility that was set up to aid in addictions, mostly. Red learned a lot about himself as well as many of the other people, and how to deal with his own demons. He was never really allowed to complete the program, and was eventually transfered out to another group home, in Toronto... where he completed his time.

While in Toronto, back for the first time, in years. Red was able to gain a bit of freedom one step at a time. He was also able to focus much better at this time, getting into school and getting a job...able to set in motion some of his long term goal. Although, there was a few setbacks that made progress difficult, and he continued to struggle within himself.

In September, 1996 Tupac Shakur was gunned down and with access to the news they all saw it. Red really didn't know what to make of it at the time. Pac and his music was one of Red's inspirational leaders, a man that made music that made one think about things... Red had a lot to think about, things to change in his own life, people to choose for his team, and people to evacuate from his presence....

Without such changes, Red believed he would end up in trouble again. Something he did not want. Red thought, that he had a couple of the right people with the right stories to tell. He only had to convince them to set on this path...

After Red's second Christmas in custody, he began to get a little stir crazy. Although he was attending a day school run by the group home, he also had a job in a kitchen... but he wanted more. He wanted to go to a real school, in the community. Almost as soon as he found out it was even an option he wanted to make it happen.

February 1997, was the beginning of the new semester, and Red was accepted into a community school. And began attending immediately. Red had never been so excited to go to school before and was so close to being able to graduate, he decided to make the effort.

It was March 1997, when Biggie Smalls was murdered another inspirational Hip Hop icon to many. It again was a shock, but the way the media portrayed the murder was that it was almost Hip Hop/Gang related and was pretty much written off. Red felt like the media was still looking down at Hip Hop culture as a whole, the total opposite of the way he felt.

With the willingness to change his ways in life, and some added help, as well as a healthy focus to use as a deterent, being Hip Hop & music in general. Although being incarcerated for almost two full years, Red was able to keep his mind from repeating past actions, and to this day will tell anybody that Hip Hop inparticular saved his life. Most people will blow the statement off because of their own opinions, but that fact remains.

By May 1997, Red was about to be released and had to find a place to live, and a way to finish the school year as well. Minor details, so he thought... Probation and no where to live, he had to turn to his old friends, or end up in an after care group home. Red was already anxious to get out and chose the former...

Although Red had plans, and thought his adjustment would take fairly easily, his mind was set on certain goals that may have been unreachable. He took his teachings and tried to reach his old friends, but they shot him down without even a thought. His plans were forced back into idea mode for the moment, he needed to find the right team of people, namely, new friends...

The struggle to get back the years of his adolescense that were most important, set in motion a series of events that would both set back, and create new challenges for a Young Red Brown; however, progress was achievable, as anything was after what he had just been through...

The first thing Red had to do, was to learn how to value his freedom...


--

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Set Backs & Milestones: The Rizes & Falls

Part 17:  Life of Dreams Vol.3, Is this Real? Mental Fitness?


I think I must have went to court 3 or 4 times in the first couple weeks, with no results... Mainly to set bail and what not.  After four attempts to set bail unsuccessfully, as well as not having anybody willing to bail me out my first lawyer set up some time for me to be evaluated psychiatrically.... So, I went back to holding, to wait some more...

The first month was so active and disappointing, that it could have broke just about anybody... There was a lot of waiting, not knowing, I was given the run around by just about everybody I knew, something was not right...  

The Psych assessments were supposed to take a month, my understanding was that I was going to moved to a new facility,  what really happened was that there was about three days worth of tests, spread out over a months time.  This was very defeating, two days were mainly testing, and sitting in a bare cell for the rest of the day.... every question and answer was analyzed and scrutinized, it made it very hard to speak openly without being judged... 

The final day of the assessments were spent waiting in that empty cell, while all the doctors involved discussed results, I guess... Then I was lead into an office, where in front of me sat about 9 doctors and others taking notes, like court reporters or something...  how many times can  someone be ask the same question "Do you hear voices?" That question til this day, from a doctor makes me want to strangle somebody.... basically, if you don't hear voices, there is nothing wrong with you?  Three days and what seemed like a thousand tests.... for that?

I must have went back to court shortly before Christmas, but I don't think it was for anything other than to find out that I was mentally fit to stand trial... after that day, I never saw a court room for about 3 months... we now had to wait for disclosure, bail was never set, so I never really had a bail hearing, but I also never had anybody to bail me out any way.... so why get my hopes up now?

When I got back to the jail house, we were all shuffled around and I had a new cell mate at the end of the day... with Christmas just around the corner and no knowledge of my future, I was stuck, my life in limbo, but calmer for some reason, I started reading and lifting weights as much as I could, to keep my mind occupied.... The dreams had not stopped, in fact, they had gotten increasingly violent and disturbing, but now not always reoccurring in the same manner...

The was a strike looming for the union workers that ran the jail... tensions were high all the time, but this made things even worse...  

It was late January 1996,  when our range got word that there had been a huge riot down the hall, and more were expected... and the strike was inevitable... the guards were sick of doing their jobs, or wanted more money... some bullshit that affected our lives directly...

About 2 weeks before the strike actually started, a new guy came in and had smuggled something, he was a known crack head to many of the guys and ended up getting jumped by about 12 or so of them.... this lead to us all getting locked down for the rest of the month leading up to the strike...

When the strike eventually kicked in, they shuffled everybody again... it took hours to get in & out of the building for court dates, so many inmates were stuck sitting in court vans that whole time... I didn't have to experience this until sometime in March.

We basically did everything from our cells, we were let out in pairs to make calls or shower, we ate in the cells, etc... this went on from Feb. until Mid-April...

I was still in a state of disbelief, I would wake up some nights think that I was still in a dream, sometimes, it put me in such deep thought, that I believed I was stuck in a coma somewhere and all of my surroundings were part of something bigger, inside my mind...  I was losing my grip on reality, and I had by this point been completely sober for months... It made me wonder how I could be feeling this way and still have been found competent... 

Disclosure came in sometime in March, and my lawyer showed up to go through it with me.  I now had a lawyer, that was being paid through legal aid, but working with my parents... She didn't really believe anything I said because of what she had talked to my parents about, behind my back...  it was a tough night, what I saw in the disclosure... 

I found out who were my friends, and who weren't. What people really thought about me, and the things they said about me regarding the charges... I couldn't believe what I saw, it took a couple hours to go through, it was a thick as a dictionary, but lacked any evidence, photos, etc... it was all statements from people in the neighbourhood.  

When all you have is time, to think, and time to yourself... it really makes you dwell on things... before the end of the night I was placed on suicide watch.  Not really suicidal, just so they could keep an eye on me... I wasn't even able to speak, it was the equivalent of having a whole neighbourhood, rat you out, for lack of a better way to say it...

Having spent a great portion of my time before ending up in jail trying, sincerely, to turn my life around, not that anybody even took notice... I held on to what really cleared my thoughts and kept me in good spirits as much as it could... Hip Hop music was all that kept me together.... 

Now I was torn, between trying to change my life now, at that point, and plotting some kind of revenge, something I wanted so bad some days... 

My Pre-trial was set, and reset about three times before my lawyer decided to plea it out rather than take the case any further... Revenge and anger fuel me through my workouts helping me vent those feelings... 

Hip Hop fueled my positivity, believe it or not... in a way it never had before... it both kept me going, and helped keep my mind off the things that sent my thoughts and dreams into sequences of rage...

The pink walls and enclosed cells, was taking my mental state into the unknown... a place I didn't want to be, but a place that made me survive without even trying very hard, it was a natural feeling, but an unnatural state of mind... I needed balance...  my last court date was coming... 

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Thursday, December 23, 2010

Setbacks & Milestones: The Rizes and Falls

PART 16:  Fear, Self inflicted?

After the police dropped me off at the jail house and welcomed me to my new home, they were on their way and out of my life.... Once the doors were closed behind me something clicked with me very quickly, as my life was about to turn a new corner, change was coming and it was time to adapt.  The only problem was myself, what was going on on my head, the dreams, the thoughts, and now the fear set in....

The fear itself was what really freaked me out, in a way that I had never felt before, or since.... it was something that I liked, but the enjoyment of that fear scared me even more.... it was so surprising to me, in fact.  Sure, I was scared of the situation as a whole, but that wasn't even the biggest fear... I was more afraid of myself and the potential of what I may have to do while incarcerated...

I was convinced that I would have to kill somebody during my time, and I quickly accepted that and was willing to do so... what scared me about that was the consequences of those type of actions, with no where to run or hide... I would have been forced to live with that knowledge out in the open knowing that other people would have known too, for sure.... for example, if one kills their own cell mate, who gets blamed(kind of a no-brainer)

What to do with this feeling?  I wasn't about to tell people about it, it was internalized like non other...  

The first month was by far the most trying, or maybe educational...after the first night, it was understood that the whole place was on overflow, and there was such a lack of space, I along with two or three others had to sleep in a glassed in room outside the actual cell block.... that continued for a few nights, while the days were spent on a cell block where we had no place...  

The conditions of overflow lasted the first weekend, then everybody went to court for bail hearings... many were released, but just as many returned.... My first trip to court in the back of a bus, filled with prisoners.  It was split down the middle, young offenders on one side, adult women on the other side of the wall... The trip to the court house was probably one of my first experiences where I had to make the choice.... 

Kill or be killed?  I thought so, I wanted to, if it came to it, I may have... out of the nine of us chained together I realized just how quickly skin tone came into play when the decision to pick on somebody comes around... being the palest, and most likely the youngest.... I was the one on the end of the chain gang, and it happened that I was the one with both my wrists cuffed, and to the next guy in line... 

The next three guys happened to be in the same crew, two of them real life cousins... the guy next to me, probably just as young, but a little bit darker was told to hit me, and almost on demand he did, on command until I stopped him... that was when the cuffs broke open... and I was out in the open.. two hands free...

You know that rush of adrenaline that you get when you want to hurt somebody in retaliation?  I don't completely remember how the next few minutes went, but I fought back, with more than a few of them, took a few shots... before we knew it we were at the court house and had to figure out how to chain ourselves back together.... 

It was a long day in the holding cells, we were all split into two cells, four in one, five in the other... in cells that were equipments to hold, maybe 2 people each... Picture a strip about 8-9 feet long and 5 feet wide, if that.... a toilet in the corner and a short bench.  I wasn't one to enjoy listening or taking orders from people that I actually like, but what I really hated was people doing as they are told because they are scared... so one by one, these guys told others to attack me... all day... fucking pain in the ass... I was ok with fighting, but when a guy says sorry to me before he starts fighting me, that just pissed me off...

Then it was on the to "leaders" of the day, acting all nice like we was friends, then trying to fight me... I just knew inside that once I grabbed one and started pounding his head in, I was gonna get jumped, so I had to take it in stride and fight one on one, and not back down...

The ride back was not as big of a deal, I somewhat proved myself... and the group was much smaller...  Back at the jail house, still no cell to make a semi-permanent home... it was about three weeks before I was actually moved onto a cell block and into a cell with a bunk, as well as a cell mate... That is where I stayed until my next court appearance, but first was all the psychiatric assessments.... This process took about a month to complete...

In the meantime, I had to deal with the day to day... I was able to get as comfortable as necessary, but I really forced myself not to get used to it...  The first cell mate I had to live with, was older than me, in fact, already an adult prisoner... transfered back to deal with some old charges, he seemed alright... much more relaxed than most of the guys...

The first idea I had was to get in shape, we were able to go out to yard, sometimes to the gym... for the first while, I stayed in my cell while they went outside... it was December, and all we were given were our sweaters... the last thing I wanted was to get sick, and it was already cold enough in the cell to chill our milk on the window ledge...

There was always a few people from the old neighbourhood passing through from time to time, some that I recognized and others I met that knew people that I knew.  I learned the set up of the ranges and where we had to go, I started making phone calls to pass the time, and keep up on news of my case, etc... 

My lawyer, was hired for my bail hearing, and was able to put off the next court date for a month, and schedule to psych stuff... then she quit... a quick buck, on what she said was a hopeless cause, ME.... 

The next month, was time to kill, waiting for a road trip of sorts... lots of time, to think, to stay active, keep my brain occupied... The was many nights where I woke up and had no idea where I was... 

The land of dreams had also become very potent and disturbing, violent and recurring once again, the dream of the day of the fire.... over and over, as If I was actually there... The not knowing was what really got to me.... What really happened?  I never did see it, and there was many nights that I woke up thinking that it didn't happen...

As I killed my time, waiting and watching guys leave and come back, sometimes they were only out for a few days, others a couple weeks... Then it was my turn, to get out, for the day.... only to travel to another secure facility, Psych assessment(s) were meant to find out whether or not I was fit to stand trial....







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Friday, September 24, 2010

Setbacks & Milestones: The Rizes and Falls

PART 15:  Life of Dreams Vol.2, The REAL Nightmare Begins...



Thinking back to the night of the fire, I see it still so vividly in my mind. I am left to wonder how it got that far beyond my control...  I watch the playback whenever it is mentioned, when ever I think about it, even as a passing thought.... so just imagine how it felt back then.  It was like super slow motion or something...  recording every little detail of the event, of the night, what people said to me, at me, or about me...  the mental pictures are incredibly clear.  It's almost like my own personal 9/11 only years and years before... not so many casualties, but the devastation it caused in so many different ways...

From the moment I heard about the fire, to the moment I arrived at the hospital, I may have still had an ounce of hope.  Hope that maybe somebody would believe my side of the story... When I arrived at the hospital, I was delivered to the police as if to say they all knew me better than I knew myself...

From the moment I arrived at the Hospital ER, and my brother gave me that look at said what he said, I knew what was coming... and I didn't know what to do.  Both of my friends were there and switched on me before I could even say a word.  My parents would not talk to me, only through an officer even sitting in the same room... Everybody was suddenly against me, why was I so surprised at that time in my life?

I had to eat a lot of shit that night, the things people said to me, the cops... The things the cops said to me, I learned very quick to shut my mouth and not say anything...  I was in a serious situation and there was no way out.. I thought of leaving the hospital and had the chance to do so, but I stopped and hesitated and began to internalize everything I had, my emotions, etc. it was the only thing I could think of to keep myself strong in the moment. 

After the Intervention style interrogation at the hospital, my parents left and told me the police just wanted to "talk," and that was the last time I saw them for awhile... the officers took me to the cruiser and stuffed me in the back and laughed at me all the way to the station... they tricked me, and I fell for it.  They took me into custody, at the station is where I spent the next several hours alone in either a room for questioning or a cold cell waiting for the next round of questioning... I don't know for sure how long I was there, they kept me awake for so long, no food or water... it wasn't my first time at the station, but this time they really were trying to break me.  Up until that point, they had usually left me with all my clothes while in holding, they took my shoe laces and belt and wouldn't allow me to have a blanket...

While in Questioning, they threatened me every few minutes when I told them I didn't do it, threatened with beatings and hard time... What they really wanted was a confession, on video they even told me.   When I finally agreed, the gave me a drink and I sat in front of the camera until I finished my drink, then told them again... that I did not do it!

Because it was a Friday, I waited in the holding cell at the station until morning or so... not sure what time it was, when they came to get me the took me to the detention center... for the weekend.  Metro Toronto West Detention, was the holding facility for young offenders at the time.  They welcomed me to my new home, sarcastically, and that was the last time I saw the outside of the building...

I had only been out at that point for a little over a month, and now had graduated to the next level of the jail system.  I was not impressed with my situation at all.  There really was no escape at this point.  I was a very busy weekend at the jail, that same night I was arrested so were another 500 or so young offenders, the place was way over crowded.  It wasn't just a youth jail, it was a women's jail and a adult men's jail as well.  The youth area was just a converted section.  The youth section had a capacity for something around 200, but for that first weekend the population had doubled...

When Monday rolled around it was time to go to court, bail hearings mostly...  A first of many for me, all delayed and never set.  Needless to say I did not make bail.  My family did show up with a lawyer, who charged a retainer and hourly for being there, only to  quit a week later.  My next bail hearing was put off for over a month to determine my mental capacity and fitness to stand trial... So hear came the doctors and the assessments, etc..

It becomes very difficult to follow the path of changing one's ways when someone gets incarcerated along the way... it really makes you think about things and what you may have done differently...  Although I had been involved with a lot of crime, I never had any intention of landing in jail... kind of a dumb way to think about it too... it was probably inevitable, turns out that I was actually a pretty late arrival.  most of the guys I was in there with at the time had already been in and out of jail for years...  This was just winter for many of them...


   

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Thursday, September 23, 2010

Setbacks & Milestones: The Rizes and Falls

PART 14: Mini Biography Vol. 4

This is Volume 2 of the Auto Biography of Freeze Flame.  As the Sauga continues, a Dream come true or a Nightmare turned reality?  Take a read...  



THE Auto-Biography of Freeze Flame: 
Vol. 2, The Birth (FLAME & ASH)


It was December 8, 1995, a Friday when young Mr. Brown's worst nightmare came true.  As he was preparing with a couple friends to DJ a house party, the news came through a phone call.  His house was on Fire and burning down.... A reoccurring nightmare that became reality was not only a sign, but the beginning of a new era of his life, that would change the way he saw the world forever.

Born from the ash like a Phoenix, Freeze Flame, as came to be known was a vision of the future.  His vision of change from his negative ways, and his total driving force for instituting this idea....  Freeze Flame was a name for later, but a name kept for the proper timing. 

It may not have been known to many at the time, but Red a little over a year earlier had made a conscious decision to cut back and eventually stop what trouble he had caused over the years...  By the time these Reoccurring dreams had started he had become quite obsessed with the Life of Dreams he had been living during this time.  This allowed him to gradually get away from the criminal lifestyle he had previously chosen. 

By the time of this incident, the house fire, Red had more or less effectively removed himself from what crimes he had committed early on, but after quite a turbulent year, most people did not see it that way.... They Only saw one thing, a young troubled kid that continued to getting "caught." 

Red's Focus has turned from street crime long before this incident.  He had taken an interest in Music and Entertainment, and wanted to be a part of an industry that had no idea of who he was.  His Interest had gravitated to Hip Hop Culture and its Music stylings, He lived, breathed, ate, slept the music almost literally.

At a much younger age he had been introduced to the Music known as Rap, but after further research  he found knowledge through Hip Hop Culture, still a relatively ignored aspect of the music in the early 90's.  Red made it the focus of all his attentions, even school took a distant second.  The one rule  Red had chosen for himself was to finish school, High School, at minimum.  At the time, passing was the goal, just passing was the only thing that mattered.  Whether by a mere percentage point or more.

Music on the other hand was another thing entirely, he had to get music, listen to it, learn it... either just know as much as possible about it, memorize lyrics, or write some of his own...  he really had no idea of how to write lyrics, but he was fairly poetic and began at an early age detailing his life's events in a poetic form, through rhymes and somewhat structured verse that came across like riddles.... to most people this type of idea did not make sense.

In the days that preceded the house fire, Red, once again stopped sleeping and took to the streets in an attempt to rid his mind of the occurrence of  these dreams....  they were both disrupting his Life of Dreams, something that he had become sort of attached to, but also his Reality... In one sense, without sleep he was not functioning properly.

He had gone out days before and found a guy that was readying to sell all his stereo equipment, including some audio recording equipment, and turntables, etc... worth a lot of money...  The seller wanted a substantial amount of money, thousands of dollars, but Red was able to get a bargain...  He talked him down to a couple hundred for everything... mainly because the seller had upgraded already and just didn't need the old equipment...

On the day on the fire, Red returned home only to discover his new stash of equipment missing, stolen.... just gone.... it was a devastating setback for the future of young Red, he would have to start all over again.  Equipment that he had bargained for and paid for with his own money.... now, he again had nothing, no money, no equipment.  He later left the house, after him and his father visited the probation officer that Red was assigned at the time, to go help out with the house party.

Little did he know what was about to happen, his Worst Nightmare was about to come to light and set him back from his new found goals for much longer than he would have ever anticipated.  Red, never went back to the house, never was able to see the devastation presented to him in the form of a reoccurring nightmare. He would later regret what he didn't witness in Reality and be forced again, to relive the reoccurring nightmares for months and years to come only to wonder and question; how close, how real, and at times, IF this event even ever really happened....

The house fire, that spawned the Ash that gave birth to the Phoenix, named Freeze Flame... was a true to reality nightmare that crossed the threshold of the Life of Dreams to reveal the bottom of Red's young world, and set him on a path that would take many years, more setbacks, as well as small milestones that would allow the pair(Red Brown & Freeze Flame) to rise from the Ash to take shape...

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