Atlanta, GA
Dutch: I’m a straight street hustler. I’ve been doing this almost thirty years. I love the excitement and the drive of being out on the street. That’s a high on it’s own. I’m out here right now and I’m not high, but I’m loving the grind. I’m loving the hustle. It’s just like some people jump off cliffs and they get that rush. I get that rush from being out here.

BW: How did it start? 

Dutch: How did it start? Going against what everyone expected of me. I felt like a failure when I missed a free throw or didn’t score a touchdown or didn’t get 200 yards that day. My father drilled me and drilled me about why I didn’t do [better]. 

BW: Sounds like you might have been a pretty good athlete?

Dutch: Yeah I was, man. I was first team all state, basketball, ran track, I still hold an Ohio and Kentucky record in long jump, tried out for the Pittsburgh Pirates when I was seventeen…

I was born in ‘69 in a small town called Portsmouth, Ohio. I’m mixed so I was not liked by both races. Black people didn’t like me because I was light skinned with curly hair. White people didn’t like me because they didn’t know how to take me and I was fucking their daughters. But I was good in sports. I probably took four tests in my whole four years in high school. Literally… my grades were given to me. I missed twice as many days as you were supposed to. 

I didn’t have anybody to talk to. No shoulder to cry on. My mom was out there on the streets. My stepfather spoiled me rotten but the thing of it is, I had to run three miles a day. I had to workout and play all the sports. That was his requirement. I could have it all if I did this, but if I didn’t do it I had nothing. 

So I was sixteen driving around in a brand new Lincoln Continental. My stepfather gave it to me because I was playing the game. When I graduated I was supposed to go to University of Louisville or Tennessee. I had a lot of places I could have went. Me and my [step] father gets into it because he wants me to go to Louisville. I didn’t want to go to Louisville. We get in this argument. I said, “Fuck it. I ain’t doing shit that you want me to do. All my life I’ve done what you want me to do.”

So I go live with granny. Granny is deaf and blind so now I can do what I want to do. The first thing I did was smoke a cigarette. I remember getting a head rush. Then it was a marijuana joint. Next thing you know everyone wants to hang around with me. I still had some coins in my pocket and didn’t have to pay for shit. Spoiled fucking rotten. Then I tried crack…

BW: How old were you when you tried crack for the first time?

Dutch: I was twenty years old. I tried it in Marianna, FL and went hard for six years. I went back to my home town. I was going hard, hard, hard. My hometown is [small]. Everybody is looking at me like, “Don’t do what he did. Look at him now.” I’m standing on the corner 24/7 waiting for anybody wanting dope. But that main drag went straight to our high school, so all the high school kids that looked up to me can now see me on the corner doing dope. 

I was slowly torturing myself. I said fuck the world. Shit ain’t fair. Look how my grandma is deaf and blind. Nobody to talk to. I’m the only child. Always wanted a brother or sister. Always wanted a best friend but I never could have one. 

It made me a violent person. I’d reach out to people and say “Hey I can be your best friend. Just don’t betray me.” When they did [betray me] I’d lash out because it hurt my heart. 

I let people know how I feel. I let people know, if you hurt me I’m liable to fucking kill ya. I wear it on my sleeve. 

My hands have been broken five or six times. I don’t stand for disrespect. As an only child growing up, people fuck with me cause I’m a half-breed with curly hair. People want to lay with you cause you a pretty boy, a push-over. Not me. I had to stand up all my life by myself. I was never in a gang. Nobody fucked with dutch and nobody fucks with dutch out here now. Believe it. Dutch will kill ya. 

Don’t fuck with Dutch. 

I Saw Wanda Over The Weekend

I Saw Wanda Over The Weekend