I can tell by the later photographs of Huey Newton he had PTSD which I suffer from, and is being aggravated by talking about the Criminality surrounding the lives of two Oakland men. I am freezing up. I am trying to take numerous naps, but to no avail.
Let me start by saying I used to go to a black afterhours club in a black neighborhood in Oakland. It was right on the Berkeley line. When my favorite bars closed, I would head there. I walked through a dangerous neighborhood for whites. One time a young black man was blown away to find me there. We started talking. I had to lay down on the grass in this park. He lay next to me and we talked about everything…art, politics, poetry, being a hippie. He tells me I am the first white person he has talked to in depth. We look up at the stars and understand we are on a strange planet, that is earthlike, but is not earth. Apartheid is real in America.
At the afterhours club, I ask for my friend. I give her my name. I am up in her room. She puts her three month baby in my arms as she goes to work. She comes back, and loads up a crack pipe. I partake. But, I am more interested in the beers she got from the downstairs frig. Putting the baby to bed, we get in her bed with our clothes on and begin to kiss. We necked for hours till the sun came up. I had arrived, at the core of Bohemianism. It was right here, in our kiss, and our gentle talk. The baby began to cry. Here is Van Gough and Cezanne. Rossetti was seduced by a prostitute who became his muse.
To discover Huey was murdered outside another after hours crack house, has brought it back, the truth that I am lucky to be alive. How I have barely escaped death on too many occasions, is mind numbing. I had to other black girlfriends that I never fucked. I had given it up after my days of wine and roses relationship with Laurie who swang on that swing in New Orleans and turned trick to get her boyfriend out of prison. My friend Tony Puig comes from a famous Puerto Rican family that shot a President.
On this day, September 4, 2020, I install Huey Newton at the Oaks Motel. When I started honoring writers here, I was not sure why. When I learned of Huey’s battle with the Dark Side of Oakland, I got it.
Above are pics of me in my 1972 Cadillac. I had just taken Michael Harkins for a tour of My Oakland. We went down seventh street in my Caddy. I showed him life on another planet. He was blown away. We also see my father playing cards with his best friend whose brother was the head of the Mexican Mafia at San Quinton. Vic shipped his last wife over the border in a marijuana shipment. His previous wife shot him in the back. Huey was very aware of the criminality amongst blacks.
My white parents were criminals that I barely survived. I almost go shot by Vic’s neighbor after I came to kick pop’s ass. He was putting the make on my girlfriend. At twelve I ordered him out of our house with a butcher knife. He came to take my little sister on a drunken drive to grandma’s house. There was a stayaway order. His secretaries called him ‘Vic The Nazi’ because he would put on Nazi videos during their lunch and explain in detail how the Germans should have won. My brother, Mark Presco is a racist Superman. We had amazing fistfights. I fought for my life – in my own home! Then, I wandered the most black streets of Oakland – as drunk as can be! I’m sober and alive! My brother might be dead, or, in hiding. My DNA test says we are kin to Lee.
My ancestors owned a stagecoach line. I am kin to Tevis. When I have my sit-down with Richard Rosenberg I am going to inform him the law firm of Robert Buck destroyed my family history. Robert put together the Buck Foundation. When I saw the movie ‘Sexy Beast’ I was at Captain Vic’s House of Hell. Above is a pic of Victim pretending to throw DeeDee on the tracks. He did not go to the hospital to get the bullet our Dirty Dee-Dee put in his back.
To be continued
Witherspoon Owen Breckenridge married Louise Tevis Breckenridge Sharon, the daughter of Lloyd Tevis, president of Wells Fargo and one of the richest men in California. When he became president of Wells Fargo, it was an express coach company. When he retired, it was a bank as we know it today. Tevis was assessed by the state of California as having a fortune worth $1,590,000.00 in 1880
John Witherspoon Breckenridge, son of Congressman, Senator, Vice President, Presidential Candidate and Confederate General John C. Breckenridge, c. 1878 and lived in San Rafael, CA. Their marriage ended in divorce and she married secondly Frederick W. Sharon.
Frederick Sharon was the son of Senator William Sharon (right), one of California’s very richest men. Sharon arrived in San Francisco in 1849, first investing in real estate, then also in mining and banking. By 1880, the state of California assessed his personal fortune at $4,470,000.002 and he was the largest single taxpayer in the state. Louise and Frederick were married at Sharon’s 55,360 square foot palatial estate ‘Belmont’ in 1884 (below).
The information found here comes from The Prestons of Smithfield and Greenfield in Virginia by John Frederick Dorman who is one of the preeminent authorities of Virginia genealogy. The descendants of John Preston and Elizabeth Patton are remarkable for the number of outstanding individuals spread over several generations. There are literally dozens of politicians, military men (including generals on both sides of the Civil War), preachers, doctors and authors. This is only a sampling of people who caught my attention. I strongly recommend anyone interested in this family to find The Prestons of Smithfield and Greenfield in Virginia.