into the light ministry

STEPPING OUT OF THE BOAT in the name OF

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Chapter 9

GOD HELP ME

Me and my friend Paul D was driving back to my flat in Sutton from our day out of robbing from cars, it was late and i spent most of the journey talking to friends on the stolen phones I had, later on we got told my conversation was overheard by a friend who had a phone scanner, scanners were easy to get and you could listen to the police and phones. It was great fun and could give you a head start on the police, I carried a scanner wherever I went. So were driving back its late. I fell asleep, my friend driving the Gold Mk3 Ford Escort he got given by his Mum and dad, we had put brand new fiesta Rs turbo wheels on it to give it some street cred. BANG!! I got woke up as I hit the windscreen, the lights shining through the dust and debris slid along the centre barrier! “God help me”, was the only wards I said, then I was out cold, waking up seconds later, the car had come to a stop in the centre lane of the M25, without thinking I got out and crawled over to the hard shoulder, cars had stopped to help us, Paul was trapped in the driver seat by the dashboard crushing his legs, the steering wheel was touching the roof and I can remember looking back at the car to see the headlights almost touching each other!. This was a bad smash.

Despite us spinning round and round and the accident being at about 100mph As Paul had fallen asleep with his foot on the throttle! and coming to a violent stop in the middle of the motor way My side of the car was completely untouched. Did my cry out to God for help save me? I believe it did, I was taken to hospital for checks and found nothing wrong with me, Paul had bitten his tongue in half and both his legs were smashed. I was totally unsaved. Thank you lord for hearing my cry for help. I love you father.

ACTS OF GOD?

After my accident I moved back to my mum’s house where I carried on committing crime, some of the things me and the gang got up to put our life’s at risk. As I said before we would spend most of our days out stealing causing damage and destruction where ever we went, one occasion took us to our regular haunt the NCP car park jukes street bridge Reading now the Oracle. we would regularly steal from this car park. it was a hot sunny day, me and my friend Malcolm a mixed race lad who sadly later died in a car accident stole a Vauxhall Caverlair, for some reason Malcolm drove it that day, this was strange as I did the driving. But this time Malcolm was in the driver’s seat, as we drove round the car park to get out the owners spotted us! I jumped out and ran but Malcolm drove off, going at speed he drove past me as I ran towards the stairs, he was also trying to get to the stairs so he could get out and run. But he was going too fast and couldn’t stop in time. The car smashed through the barriers and nose dived the 3 stories until coming to a stop onto the car park entrance barriers! It was an act of god that no one including Malcolm was hit by the car. I ran off leaving the scene and Malcolm behind, making my way home I found Malcolm laying on my bed resting, my mum had let him in as she did with all my friends, we laughed about what had happed and no one was ever arrested. Malcolm was a bit sore and bruised.

Another time my mum let some of my friends in the house was when they had just done an armed robbery on post office and was being chased by the police! They lead the police straight to my house! And got the house raided and nearly got my mum and Mick arrested. they had hidden the cash up the chimney.

A few years later Malcolm died in a car accident while being chased by the police, he was driving a high powered BMW and I think he last the back end and went off the road rolling it in to field he died at the scene. i pray God has forgiven him and knew our lord Jesus. amen

1993 and the Honda Fire blade had just came out, 1000cc of power. We would regularly steal motor bikes and this was the best around at the time, my mate Denis come knocking the door at 6am after he had left to go home he found the bike and walked back to get me, it was a massive monster of a machine and we were 2 skinny 17 year olds, we struggled to snap the steering lock but managed to after putting all we had into it, we weren’t going to let this monster slip through our hands. Ridding it around 2 up one day the owners must have been searching for it as before we knew it there was a XR2 Fiesta chasing us, we had to ride up on the pavement to escape the driver, he was angry and tried knocking us off but we got away as we always did. Another time I was riding this over powered beast along the road my mum’s house sits on The Headway, I was showing off to the small crowd that gathered to see what I had, lined up along the road they waited for me show then this beast. I rode it to the bottom of the road to get a run up and flat out 1st 2nd 3rd 4th gear touching about 130mph I flew past them. The road is a 30mph limit! And has a bend init. I was the hero! Then a car pulled out in front of me! I had no way of stopping hitting the breaks the car came up on me quick and I couldn’t swerve round it I had nowhere to go, waiting to hit it I braced myself...then the bike stopped! I don’t know how but it just stopped. I remember looking at the breaks and thinking they were some super “anti lock” system breaks as how it didn’t skid out of control due to my panicking ill never know. I don’t know if that bike had

antilock brakes but that day it seemed to outperform the other days I had be riding it around. The next day we took this monster for a test along the motorway, my mate on the back, he had a bomber jacket on, we got it up to about 180mph and when I pulled over his bomber jacket had threaded at the seams from the wind! It had two massive slits in the back were the arms are sawn on. That’s the kind of speeds we was travelling at!.

Dennis crashed a car a few weeks after this and was in intensive care for months, having broken his pelvis and legs, he was being chased by the police in a Vauxhall SRI 130 on the way to pick me up to go out robbing, he never made it to my house and the next I heard was from his sister that he was in hospital, the first thing he said when he woke up was “where’s Michael”. we was close friends, like brothers. This was the first time I let Dennis take a car home as I always did the driving, I am sorry I did and deeply regret what happened to him. We remain friends to this day.

Around the same time We had 2 Suzuki RGV 250s one was a Super sport the other a Slingshot, these were YPVS power band road racing bikes, fast and light, my other mate had a Ducati I think it was a 700cc, or 767. something big red and loud. We went out racing and bumped into a 500cc Suzuki the bigger brother to the 250s we had, we raced him but he blew us away, this attracted the attention of the police, riding through Basingstoke I noticed a police helicopter above us. The chase was on! Leaving the big heavy Ducati behind and loosing the other 250 I headed back to Reading, flat out with no care for my safety I raced through the country lanes not stopping at any junctions. By the grace of god I made it home safe. Later the other lads all arrived at the house and we did some burn outs in my mum’s back garden filling it up with black tire smoke.

Another bike another chance to kill myself. This was a Honda CBR 600 the little brother to fire blade, I was pulling a wheelie, it was dark, and the road was uneven, the back tired had been flattened out level due to the burns outs we did and I lost control i was in a real bad tank slapper. Cars either side of me doing about 60mph I had nowhere to go and just held on for my life. Once again the bike came under control on its own!

For 3 years from 15 to 18 I stole and rode the most powerful bikes on the market at speeds meant for the race track. The scraps I had are too many to mention but not once did I ever fall off a bike! I was youth with no training Was I that good a rider? or did I have someone looking over me? Guardian angels perhaps?

Being chased in the Vauxhall Astra timothy driving, 6am with the police behind us we couldn’t shake them, the Astra was a 1.6 and Tim couldn’t drive that well, round the country bends flat out I thought we was going round a long bend then suddenly Tim swerved the car attempting to take a turning towards the mill. The car flipped over and rolled several times landing on its roof in the ditch, finally coming to rest I hung there with the seat belt holding me in, unclipping it I fell to the roof and climbed out the broken window and ran. Finding myself in a field knee high with mud I couldn’t run much more, the police shouted “dog” and I gave myself up.

CRACK HEAD WITH A KNIFE

We used to hang around the older girls flats and smoke blow, we felt cool they let us hang with them, in their mid 20s we was just kids. They sold drugs and ran stolen cheque books and cards, something I later got into, they were a part of a bigger gang. A more powerful bunch of adults known as Yardies. These girls were their runners and casual partners. One day Kenny a big black yardie high on crack cocaine came round the flat we hung in, Anne the girl living there sold drugs for him, he went wild saying that an bar of blow (9 ouches of cannabis) had been stolen, I was the only lad there and Kenny thought id stole it, it later turned out that Anne had lied to him, Ken made me take my clothes off and pulled out a big carving knife about a foot long! He and his brother had done jail for hanging a rival yardie member up and cutting his skin off slicing him up that bad he nearly died. His brother was serving life for it. And now I had this lunatic high on crack rubbing the knife over my naked torso! Like the scene out of first blood Rambo. I nearly wet myself as He was screaming and walking me round with the knife pushed into my back. Anne was screaming too and the older lads we bumped into as ken lead me out the flats on the way to his car ran off! These were lads I thought were gangsters!. They left me in fear of ken, that’s how mad this man was! Back in the lift he decided to take me to the flat to cut me up. Praying to God inside my head I was pleading for my life. 15 years old barely any meat on my skinny little body crying and waiting to feel the knife go into me, I thought it wouldn’t take a lot to kill me.

Then Without any warning just as he was about to stab me he stopped without saying a word and let me go. His eyes were wide open and rolling around his head, cracked out of his brain, he could have carved me up easily. Thank the lord he didn’t. And I ran off home to my mum. Never again would I be put in a position like that, my need for power had just been given a kick up the backside! Guns were what I needed.

MEETING MY DAD

A few years later Around the time of meeting my dad I was with Donna, the mother of my first 2 children, Olivia now 19 and Georgia 15, a genuine loving kind and loyal woman, regretfully I didn’t treat her very well and cheated on her as i didn all the woman in my life, I thank God she has not held a grudge against me and praise her for the job she has done in raising the girls without me being around or helping much.

It was when Olivia was born that I decided I had to meet my dad.

Contact was made and a meet set up, I remember Donna dropping me off in the Peugeot 106 I had bought from a salvage auction and repaired it using stolen parts to the 4 horseshoes pub in Whitley Reading to meet him, a gold land Rover discovery was parked out the front a typical travellers motor, a big impression was made on me. My dad had brought my brothers Michael, Henry and nephews Henry and Michael, the 5 of us went on a pub crawl.

I finally felt belonging, I was buzzing with joy and felt like king kong, I felt like I was the king of the world that day, a warm fuzzy feeling filled my whole body, I can still remember the feeling now as my dad sat my down and held my hand.

A few hours into the drinking we walked over to the chip shop and my dad and brother Michael got into a fight with 2 customers. Being fighting men the fight didn’t last long! What a day, we chased them down the road together! I was a member of the family now! I remember My dad holding my hand in the pub afterwards telling me that my brother would walk a thousand miles over broken glass for me, my brother Michael the bare knuckle fighter having never been beat was an animal of a man, he didn’t care for no man and would fight anyone, having been shot several times and not once telling the police he instantly became my hero. I had something to live up to now! But how could I live up to what he had became? Why did I need to?. I

didn’t, but that didn’t stop me spending the next 20 years trying to.....the feeling of wanting to fit in and for them to want me was a strong one.

(More detail to come) estimate 3 pages

UP THE CRIME LADDER THE NEXT 20 YEARS OF ORGANISED CRIME...& EVEN THOUGHTS OF MURDER!....

All this happened when I was 20 and under, except the escalation in firearms as they came as my contacts broadened. As time went on I got connected throughout the country and into my 30s the world, I had connections all over the world, from Australia to South America, everyone wanted high value cars and I was the man to supply the need! I opened my life up to a world of organised crime and with that came drugs, firearms, robbery and much more!...

Chapter 10