About the NY/DC beef. There was a video that came out perhaps in the early 1990s... a precursor to the worldstar foolishness of this era. If I remember correctly it was DC guys filming themselves randomly attacking people who walked by....knocking them out...pissing on them.really demonic shyt
I think it was done as a warning to NYers or something. I think they might have even said it on camera, this is for y'all.
Does anybody else remember this story?
I remembered the story but not the details... the video tape was shot by a guy who was in the streets in NY AND DC.....to show NYers how wild DC was.
all the guy involved got at least 17 year sentences
TOLERANCE OR SURVIVAL? VIDEO CASE REVEALS STREET REALITY
By Tracy Thompson June 16, 1991
Even after the convictions last week of five young men who videotaped themselves mugging people in the District one night a year and a half ago, something bothered juror Lisa Jones-Gray.
She kept thinking about the questions nobody had asked, she said -- about the people on the tape who applauded the crimes, who shrieked with laughter when one of the defendants urinated in the face of an unconscious victim.
How could this happen? she wondered. And why didn't anybody try to stop it?
Local Headlines newsletter
Daily headlines about the Washington region.
These were the broader questions raised by the trial in which Joel Carrero, Bryan L. Davis, Ronald Taper, Michael Akins and William H. Barnes were found guilty of armed robbery and conspiracy, and now face prison sentences ranging from 16 years to life.
Two armed robberies that took place before dozens of witnesses prompted only two calls to police that night, and one of the two refused to leave his name, D.C. police Detective David Jackson said.
Yet on the videotape, recorded on the night of Oct. 28, 1989, at least a half-dozen people can be seen or heard in the 5400 block of Ninth Street NW, standing by or offering running commentary as one victim is hit on the head with a pipe and another knocked unconscious by a hard right to his jaw. Hilarity erupts when Barnes straddles a victim and urinates in his face. Afterward, a woman bystander casually nudges the victim with her foot.
"Get up, baby," she says. "Wake-up time!"
How can such a thing happen? Easily, said police and residents of the Brightwood neighborhood where the attacks happened. The corner where the attacks took place is a well-known drug market. The youths who gather there sometimes create a kind of behavioral tornado, sucking in everybody in their path.
"Youngsters," said one neighborhood resident. "You separate them and they're probably nothing. You put them together, they're like a pack of wild dogs."
To John Devine, an adjunct professor of education at New York University who runs programs for teenagers in some of Brooklyn's most crime-ridden high schools, what the five defendants did makes perfect sense in the context of the drug-ridden neighborhood they lived in: It showed they were tough.
"The idea is that there's a kind of underground economy going on in the streets," he said. "There's no organizational network to rely on. So you portray yourself as being very tough . . . . The videotaping is kind of a new phenomenon, but that's a further reinforcing of your toughness. You're able to portray this at a later date, have somebody come into your home and show this on your VCR and sell your toughness -- just like a businessman."
In a pretrial hearing, Assistant U.S. Attorney Barbara Grewe said that the tape was Carrero's idea, and that he wanted "to show the boys in New York how bad the boys in D.C. were."
In that, he got his wish: Grewe added that a bail bondsman looking for Carrero on an unrelated charge found the tape about six weeks later in Carrero's New York apartment -- including one segment in which Carrero's voice can be heard exulting, "This is straight-up D.C. hustlin'!"
But this was no organized gang, Detective Jackson said, although the five all knew each other. Two of the defendants, Taper, 23, and Akins, 37, are cousins and lived in Taper's mother's house nearby on Illinois Avenue NW. Carrero, 20, lived in New York but had friends in the District and often traveled here, Jackson said.
Barnes, 20, gave a New Carrollton address when he was arrested, but Jackson said he often stayed with a friend in the neighborhood where the crimes happened, and may have come on the scene that night by coincidence. All four had criminal records involving drugs, and Barnes had been arrested on firearms charges. Only Davis, 19, had had no adult criminal charges.
Those encounters with police are typical of a neighborhood one police detective described as "nothing but homicides and dope."
A reporter who visited the block last Wednesday evening, hours after the jury returned its verdict in D.C. Superior Court, walked into a drug arrest -- at the same house that appears in the background in one part of the video. As a detective read the suspect his rights, a woman who said she was the resident manager of the building loudly denied that she tolerated drug use there.
"Come on, baby," a plainclothes officer snapped. "I've locked up everybody in your side of the building, and everybody sitting out front."
The suspect, a middle-aged man, kneeled silently in the dirt yard, awaiting a police cruiser. His arrest caused barely a ripple in the early evening rhythm of the neighborhood: Toddlers wandered through nearby yards wearing disposable diapers and nothing else, while several hard-eyed young men sat on the front porch of a house two doors away, wearing beepers.
The nearest business was the corner liquor store, where customers handed their money through a revolving door in a plexiglass shield and got their liquor the same way, a method that restricts human contact.
The neighborhood used to be "old, good, stable," said one of the customers, an older man. Now, he said, the longtime residents, most elderly, simply stay inside their row houses. There is no reason to get involved in anything outside one's own small orbit of work and home, he said -- particularly trying to stop street crime.
"Fear of retribution," he answered, when asked why not. "Even though the police try to do their job, they clear them {drug dealers} away and they come right back."
In fact, one of the government's main witnesses in the trial stopped the proceedings at one point and asked Judge Steffan Graae to remove a spectator in the back row because "he's making me nervous." It turned out the spectator was a relative of Barnes's, and what made the witness nervous was the gesture he was making: aiming an imaginary pistol at the witness's head.
It was not surprising, then, that not a single resident who stopped to talk to a reporter on the street last week gave his or her name while anyone else was looking. Those who talked turned a reporter's query around: The question is not why more people didn't try to stop the beating, they said, but why anyone would want to.
"Nobody wants to be a witness. Nobody wants to get involved," said Bantigi Doucoure, a Senegalese journalist who lives around the corner. "They {the drug dealers} will just give you a hard time, and you won't get any awards."
Other residents said the kind of beatings captured on the videotape are so common that it's possible nobody thought to call police. When the police are called, they often arrive late. That futile drill was caught on the videotape: After the first victim is mugged, someone off camera shouts, "D.C. police!" The robbers had scattered, laughing, by the time the police car drove by.
If residents did not seem outraged by the crimes, one reason may have been the blurred distinction between criminal and victim. Grewe told the jury that the five men decided that night to beat and rob crack "pipeheads" who come on the block to buy drugs.
That prompted one defense attorney to suggest that the five were trying to sweep addicts out of their neighborhood. That theory failed to fly with the jury.
Jim Foreman, who coordinates citizen anti-drug patrols throughout the District, scoffed at the notion. "Residents might feel hatred toward the drug people, but they don't try anything," Foreman said. "Most are too afraid of a confrontation."
But patrols may be in the block's future. After seeing the videotape on television, neighborhood resident Audrey Hendricks organized an Orange Hat anti-drug citizens' patrol for an area that includes the block where the beatings happened.
"After seeing that film, I was more determined to help make this a safe neighborhood again," she said. "Those men showed no remorse