We find ourselves caught up in a conflict between morals, family, respect, etc. everyday, so it's hard to venture out and publicly hear personal beliefs without rebuttal or criticism. Also, common stories of today express their beliefs that are told of the moment rather than a period over a lifetime. I have to ask myself when does the value of immediacy wear out? Or how credible can a belief be without a concrete time line behind it?
I have a recording of Recro that I'm about to share. Out of this recording will stem his beliefs and where he got them from. You will see the deep lessons he learned in the proximity of death and loss - when the value of life is felt more keenly. Without farther delay, I will play this recording.
Life began with my parents back in Russia, my father was a capo in a family for a man called Sheskov. During that time I was a 5 year old kid who got caught in the middle when my father got betrayed by his own people. As a result, my parents and I left for the United States of America where they called it the land of opportunity.
In 1906 the boat docked into Detroit, we had very little of anything. As we walked off the boat with only a suit case of clothes, my father told my mother and I to stay put. So we waited near the boat on a bench close by, it seemed like forever. I played chasing the birds occasionally to pass the time, but my mother's worry didn't get any better as the time passed. Fortunately, after couple hours he returned.
"Come my son it's getting late"
I didn't understand, just followed. We walked for an hour or so surrounded by bustling cars everywhere, busy individuals running around, and never-ending skyscrapers. Then we came across a dirty building three stories high where people were yelling outside their windows, drunks vomiting in the streets, there were 2 guys beating a shop owner up in a alleyway across the street. My father pushed me along inside the building, then he proceeded to exchange the money he had for a room.
A voice yelled out, took the money and gave us a key.
"Room 203" a grumpy old man said.
Time went by and my father brought in money every week. I started school soon after we moved into a small community where my father's friends were living. Sometimes he these friends over late at night where they disappear for long periods of time. By age 8, I knew what was going on. Regardless of age, this was the beginning where I started to be a man. My father told me I needed to take care of myself and continued to teach me boxing lessons. I took this to the school yard where I met Shrike, another Russian kid who was forced out, we were bullies to the others.
At the boxing gym I began to take quite the role, it was run by my father's friends. During a cold night in 1914, my parents came to my tournament that night to watch me fight in the finals for first place. Before my fight started, my father went out for a smoke and was brutally shot by a rival family member that was waging war. My father's associates rushed to his aid, but it was too late. My mother and I were left with his body lying out in the streets.
Days later, the landlord came for his rent but we had nothing. My father was no longer there to support us so something needed to done, fast. I eventually dragged myself to the streets to conduct business. My mother disapproved and jumped on the next ship to Russia. After my mother's departure, Shrike and I became like family. We beat the rich kids and stole purses from the elderly for a source of survival. The living was good being a petty thief, but it got even better when we were met, basically cornered, by a majestic looking man. There was an importance to him when he was surrounded by numerous bodyguards.
He offered us work and we did what he told us to do. Before long, we had the whole neighborhood under our control. The amount of cash we brought in seemed endless. He then called us into his office where we were met by the godmother herself. She had a few brief words for us and immediately departed. As a result, we were made into the family and it seemed like the celebration party went on for days.
This was when we started to do some serious work. We were ordered to do jobs all over town, working directly for our Don Ghost, but for our lovely Godmother of course. Each day the words of my father echoed through my head...
"Son you want something you must strive to get it or die a weak man with the regrets that would put you six feet under!"
With that, I was head honcho running my own crew under Don Ghost.
As years past by, myself and Shrike rose to the ranks of Consigliere and took the hands of the family, proving ourselves to our God Mother. I had done a lot to get to that rank. Some things I was proud of, but some things I was not. Things I would never speak about again, not even to my wife. Shortly after Consigliere, the day came where Ghost told me he was unable to carry on as head of the family. He informed me that I shall be a captain under Godmother Marietta because my loyalty was to the up-most inspiration to all. Arrangements were made and I had access to the city of Detroit.
I'm here today because of my beliefs - remain loyal, do what is asked, and the opportunites will come. If you do make a mistake, then admit it -- don't lie. When the time comes, put those in your way 6 feet under. Loyalty is the key to success while keeping your face around the family head office at all times. Do not under any circumstances kiss ass, list your goals, inform those who can make them happen. But do not force it upon them!
