Locked Up

An excerpt from Medium -

MI LIBRO by Pablo Guzman
CHAPTER ONE: MAY 30, 1973

“You are to begin your sentence of two years on each count immediately. To be served concurrently.” And yes, Federal Judge Charles Metzner brought down the gavel. My hands were cuffed behind my back.

I turned to say goodbye to my family and friends. It was Wednesday, May 30th 1973. I was 22. The courtroom at Foley Square was packed. It was like looking out on an audience. Different though than the audiences I had looked at speaking in colleges or street rallies. Those always made me a bit nervous, even though people said I was good; I always got nervous. Now, I was more than nervous; I was scared. But, had to put up a front. Big time. Could not show fear. My parents, though divorced, were there together for me. My cousin Gil. Reporters I had dealt with the past four years. And about 150 colleagues and supporters. No time to be a punk.

At the railing I leaned forward. But two court officers grabbed me, one by the throat, and twisted me backwards. Though my Dad was not yet fifty-five, he was in good shape and took the railing, punching out first one officer and then a second. Amateur boxer. He came out of Spanish Harlem, and you did not fuck with those cats. As more officers swarmed, my father’s action was almost a signal to the many Young Lords in the gallery. After all, this is what we did for a living. In seconds the melee in court resembled one of the brawls in Errol Flynn’s Gentleman Jim, a favorite of my Dad and me. “The Corbetts are at it again!” Officers dragged me out of there and threw me in a holding cell. It’s true: when that cell door clangs shut, there’s no other sound quite like it. It fuckin’ rings in your head.

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