The Unknown Mongol 2

by Scott Ereckson

  Remember, just before my incarceration I was the club boss and though 6-years had passed, a large faction of my supporters still remained, not only in the club as a whole but in Mother Chapter itself. The day of the agreed meeting, I received a phone call from a loyal Mother Chapter member; “Don’t come, it’s a setup, they’re waiting for you.” Right then my thoughts were confirmed, as long as Doc Cavazos was in power, I was in danger.

  The following week I received another phone call from the same member who warned me about the meeting “I got it, I got your patch!” This member had been sent to a club storage unit to retrieve some items and while there, grabbed my patch. Right under Doc’s nose, my patch was returned.

  CHAPTER 27

  On December 5th, 2007 we entered the snow-covered town of Herriman Utah. With Lisa and Trucker following in my new Dodge Ram, I carefully maneuvered the stuffed U-Haul rental into the newly built apartment complex that would temporally be our home. For 600 bucks a month and equipped with a washer and dryer, the 900 square foot apartment was more than adequate. The following Monday would be my first day of work.

  Within a week I had gone from driving a company truck and running a crew in sunny California to welding on the side of a building 75 ft in the air on a JLG lift in 4-degree weather freezing my ass off. I quickly began to wonder if our move was the right decision.

  At the end of our 6-month lease, with the money we’d saved and a little help from my folks, Lisa and I bought our first home together in Magna, Utah. The house was beautiful, at 267, 000$ the 3100 square foot home (including basement) sat on a 1/3 of an acre corner lot with the backyard bordering another 60 acres of privately-owned property where horses, goats and cattle grazed. There was no way we could have afforded this in California, our dream had been fulfilled.

  Shortly after our move to Magna in June of 2008, I’d received word from California that Doc Cavazos had stepped down as National President to manage a production company he’d started with stolen club funds. No longer in power, along with his brother “Al the suit” and his son “Lil Rubes” under the new leadership, Cavazos was brought up on club charges for misappropriation of club funds and put out bad.

  Now with Cavazos and his regime out of the picture, and no MONGOL chapters in Utah, I retained my active status as a an O.G. NOMAD based out of southern California, meaning I was only required to attend 1 chapter meeting every 3 months.

  On Saturday October 18th, 2008, I flew into Long Beach Airport and was greeted by two O.G. NOMAD members. From the airport I was shuttled to a house in Whittier California where I attended my first chapter meeting since I was National President 10-years earlier. Sadly, I wasn’t there only for the meeting, but also to attend the funeral of brother “HIT MAN” who had been murdered by cowards 10 days prior.

  The following day I accompanied the new chapter to the Santa Monica cemetery where 5-hundred MONGOLS congregated. This was differed from the many funerals I’d attended before, something was odd, the presence of law enforcement was nowhere to be seen. At past funerals, law enforcement was always in full force, often posted at all entrances and surrounding side streets, writing tickets and harassing brothers as they came went but this day there were none, as if quiet before the storm.

  On the following Tuesday evening October 21st , safe in my Utah home, I watched the news in disbelief.

  In a federal sweep dubbed “Operation Black Rain,” federal agents and local police with 160 search warrants raided homes across Southern California, Nevada, Oregon, Washington and Ohio arresting 110 MONGOLS under a federal racketeering indictment that included charges of murder, attempted murder, assault as well as gun and drug violations. Like so many times before, my gut feelings were right, the funeral was quiet before the storm, a storm that showered “Black Rain.”

  Shortly after the indictments a federal court judge ruled the MONGOLS patch represented a criminal organization and temporarily put an injunction on the club insignia giving law enforcement the right to confiscate the MONGOLS patch or any item baring the MONGOLS insignia (including motorcycles). Since Doc Cavazos was arrested in the raid, it was rumored he had cut a deal with the Federal Government by forfeiting the rights to the patch for a lighter sentence, which he never actually owned. So there I was, active for only 4 months unable to fly my patch.

  ◆◆◆

  The township of Magna Utah was a quaint little town. Located about 15 miles west of Salt Lake City, south of Interstate 80. Once a booming mining town, it was basically unchanged since the early 1900’s. Like any small town there was Main St... Being the main drag, it separated the bars on the southside of the street from churches on the north. Too dangerous to fly my colors for fear of confiscation, I had no problem wearing a “support your local MONGOLS” T- shirt to the local bars every chance I got. A block down from one of the bars was the Sundowners M.C. clubhouse. Though our paths had crossed many times, there were never any incidents.

  Besides the Sundowners, Vagos, and Bandidos was the Barons, the oldest and first established club in Salt Lake City.

  It wasn’t long before the word of a lone MONGOL frequenting the Magna bars spread throughout the biker scene sparking curiosity.

  Soon high-ranking members of all the above-mentioned M.C.’s began to show up at the tiny Magna bars not looking for confrontation but conversation. They all usually started the same, questions about the patch forfeiture and what we as a club were doing about it.

  The consensus among these clubs was that of concern, and with good reason. If the feds could take the MONGOLS patch, how long would it be before they took every club’s patch? Then the conversations always ended the same with the question; “You guys planning on starting a MONGOL chapter here?” I easily read through their facades of bullshit, they were more worried about a chapter of MONGOLS popping up in their backyard then losing their patch to the feds.

  While celebrating Lisa’s birthday in the local bar, I was approached by an intoxicated woman in her mid-forties. “Hey, you a MONGOL?” “That’s right.” I listened while she rambled on; “My ole man’s a retired MONGOL from San Diego.” I’d heard this kind of bullshit from drunks all the time and did my best to ignore her until she started dropping names. Suddenly she had undivided attention. The names and the time frame were accurate, she described and all the brothers that were in the San Diego (DAGO) Chapter when I prospected in 1980. Though drunk, she knew way too much information to be liar.

  “So, where’s your ole man now?” “I already called him, he’s on his way down here.” Though she’d described him and told me his name, it drew a blank. Was it true, did I have another MONGOL brother here in Utah?

  Within minutes he walked through door. Putting his hand out to shake, “I’m Jimmie Solis.”

  Though Jimmie was never actually a full-patched MONGOL, he was a hang-around who left the San Diego area right around the time of the highly publicized 1982 murder of Hells Angel Fat Ray, which I was convicted on. Though for some reason our paths had never crossed in earlier days, Jimmie was all too familiar with my name and who I was. Still skeptical, I did my own investigating and with a few phone calls validated Jimmies early relationship with the club.

  As the months passed, Jimmie and I grew to be good friends and also became the closest thing I had to a MONGOL brother within 700 miles. I knew I could trust him and had no doubt he had my back. Jimmie knew hanging out with the only MONGOL in Utah could be dangerous but was always ready and willing to face whatever came our way. After a couple of Crown & Cokes, we’d often bullshit about starting a MONGOL chapter in our little town of Magna but thought it futile while the MONGOLS trademark was still tied up in federal court. Why start a chapter if you can’t legally fly the patch?

  In early 2009, an individual member of the MONGOLS filed a case in federal court stating his constitutional rights had been violated by not being allowed to wear his patch (freedom of speech) and the judge ruled in his favor. Using his case as court law, the MONGOLS M.C. as a whole follow
ed suit and the right to fly their patch was restored.

  The minute I heard the news accompanied by Jimmie, I flew my patch to every bar Magna. With a phone call and only a block away, word quickly reached the Sundowners clubhouse. At the bar for only minutes, Jimmie and I suddenly found ourselves surrounded. “Magna belongs to the Downers” someone in the group muttered.

  I’d been in this spot many times before and this is where I shined. Killing what was left of my drink, I slowly set down the empty glass. Turning, I put my back to the bar. I could now see what we were up against, there was 8 of them and only me and Jimmie. I knew this was just the beginning of a long road ahead. Making eye contact with the biggest one, I calmly asked “Did you say something?” “I said, Magna belongs to the Downers.” With a grin I replied; “Not anymore.”

  In May of 2009, Jimmie was diagnosed with throat cancer, putting a hold on our plans.

  For a minute I thought I might lose him, but like a true warrior, he came out the winner. The removal of the cancer left a scar on Jimmie’s neck that spanned from ear to ear reminding me of a Pez candy dispenser. That’s when I gave him the name “JIMMIE THE PEZ.”

  On September 29th, 2009, after a year of loyalty, JIMMIE THE PEZ became the first member of the MONGOLS M.C (Westside Chapter) Utah. What started with only two of us, today has grown to be the largest M.C. in the state of Utah with 5 chapters and expanding into the state of Idaho.

  To say starting a chapter in unchartered territory with the nearest backup 700 miles away was done without adversity or opposition would only be a lie and a liar I’m not. How’d I do it? Well, that’s another story. A lot had changed since I was National President 12 years earlier, but two things hadn’t. I was still JUNIOR of the MONGOLS and I never bowed down to anyone. Be strong when you are weak. Be brave when you are scared. Be humble when you are victorious. Be badass every day. (Unknown)

  BUILDERS, SUSTAINERS, DESTROYERS

  BUILDERS:

  Builders are people of vision, those who see what can be and strive to build a company or an organization. Most builders remain builders but can become destroyers if disillusioned. Builders will generally attempt to align with a sustainer so that their or organization will succeed. Builders start chapters, organize things and always have new ideas to keep everyone enthused. They do all the ground work for sustainers to work with.

  SUSTAINERS:

  Sustainers are the one’s who built this country, they strive to get to work on time, do their jobs efficiently with great pride and rarely complain. Sustainers are often nondescript, do what’s asked without question, keep a low profile and will push through adversity. Sustainers will pick up the pieces after a storm and carry on, like when a chapter starts falling apart.

  DESTROYERS:

  Destroyers tear down what builders have envisioned and began, and what sustainers have kept going. Most destroyers believe they are “Great Builders” but can’t do it on their own. Most destroyers are above sustainers, so they will set out to destroy a person or organization, or both.

  Destroyers are very clever and at first are accepted, well liked and looked up to. They will access all means to use and set you up, justifying in their minds and to others that their actions are proper.

  Destroyers back stab and work against the whole in a manner that appears to be positive. Most of them are power hungry, controlling and feed off the accomplishments of others. Destroyers bad mouth an organization when they quit. Very rarely will you see a sustainer become a destroyer. Destroyers who can’t keep power will destroy rather than give power to others.

  Remind you of anyone? Who in your chapter or club fits these roles? What can be done to prevent a destroyer from continuing his destructive behavior? How can we recognize what is happening and deal with it as a chapter before he destroys the whole club?

  It starts with recognizing these described personalities. You as a member must always strive to be a builder and a sustainer.

  For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.

  (The Lion King)

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’d like to thank my beautiful wife Lisa, who’s unconditional love and support inspired me to fulfill my dream of being a writer. After being denied by numerous publishing companies and told by a literary agent my first book “THE UNKNOWN MONGOL” needed to be rewritten by a professional, Lisa (without me knowing) took my manuscript and had 1 hard copy published. She surprised me with it in 2009 on our 3rd wedding Anniversary convincing me to self-publish. Thanks again HunyB, we proved ’em wrong didn’t we.

  Thanks Mom for always supporting me through the good and bad. Dad, you always said; “What ever you do, be the best at it.”

  I published my first book “THE UNKNOWN MONGOL” in 2010. It sold well, but I only made it available in paperback. Then in 2012 I got an email from a complete stranger in Virginia. After reading my book, he wrote to tell me how much he enjoyed it. Little did I know that one email would start a friendship that has lasted for years. Troy Mason is also a writer, but he’s also more than that. He’s truly a hardcore biker. He and his wife Pam have traveled all the lower 48 states on his Harley, putting over 100,000 miles on it in under four years.

  When they passed through Laughlin in 2013, I got the chance to meet him. He’s a retired Marine who looks like he could still kick some ass.

  Troy’s authored a four-novel fictional series about an M.C. called the IRON KINGZ. I’m sure if you enjoyed my books, you’ll also enjoy his. They are all extremely well researched and the storyline makes them all real page turners. Troy helped me get my book on Kindle and Audible helping me to sell more copies than I ever dreamed possible. So, I just wanted to take this opportunity to say, “THANKS BRO!” and encourage you to check him out on Amazon.com.

  Last, Id like to acknowledge a photo I saw in another book that was taken at the Riverside Casino in Laughlin 1996 (L-R) JOE FISH, RED DOG, myself and LONGHAIR DAVE. Though at the time of the photo I was National President, in it I was dubbed an UNKNOWN MONGOL, thanks for the name Billy.