Max Chessher
Friend of Mine
Until the lion learns to write his own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people who are at risk of, victims of or perpetrators of violence in El Salvador. In 2017, this innovative program expanded into Chicago to create tangible, high-quality opportunities that nourish the minds, expand the voices and share the personal truths of individuals who have long been underserved and underestimated. Through the process of drafting, revising and publishing memoirs, participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie and positive selfprojection to author new life narratives. Since January 2017, ConTextos has collaborated with the Cook County Sheriff's Office to implement Authors Circle in Division X of Cook County Department of Corrections as part of a vision for reform that recognizes the value of mental health, rehabilitation and reflection. These powerful memoirs complicate the narrative about violence and peace-building, and help author a hopeful future for these men, their families, and our collective communities. While each memoir's text is solely the work of the Author, the images used to create this book's illustrations have been sourced from various print publications. Authors curate these images and then, using only their hands, manipulate the images through tearing, folding, layering, and careful positioning. By applying these collage techniques, Authors transform their written memoirs into fully illustrated books. In collaboration with
Friend of Mine Max Chessher
It was a regular day in Rogers Park. It was probably 35 degrees outside. You know, regular Chicago weather. I was walking down Bosworth, a street in my neighborhood and near Sullivan high school. I just got kicked out of Sullivan 2 days before. I forgot what it was I got kicked out for.
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I only came up there to see my friends because they went there. Plus that was our neighborhood. As I walked to the front of Sullivan high school, I came across two individuals. one I knew and one I didn’t know.
The one that stuck out the most was, of course, the one I didn’t know. He was probably 5’7, real skinny, probably 145 to 150 pounds, light skinned, with braids in his hair, and a squeaky voice. It was Romeo and Isaiah. I shook up with both of em. I asked Isaiah, “What they call you?” And he said, “Lil Zeak.” And I said, “No… your name is Freaky Zeaky.”
He looked at me crazy and I looked at him. It was a dead silence for three seconds and then he smiled and said, “I like it…” We all started laughing. After that, I was seeing him everyday and everybody was calling him Freaky Zeaky, or Freaky for short.
It was never a dull moment when he was around. He was always doing something funny or saying something funny. But what really made me take a liking to him was when I saw him give somebody his last dollar‌ I wouldn’t give nobody my last dollar.
The only reason I knew it was his last dollar was because we ended up going to Sub Brothers, a restaurant in the neighborhood. I ordered something to eat and he didn’t, which was unusual because he always had money. So I said, “Order something to eat. I know you hungry.” And he said, “That was my last dollar.” And I said, “What?” and I looked at him crazy. And he said, “It’s only a dollar. What the fuck am I gonna do with it?”
So I laughed. I brought him something to eat and gave him bus fare. That's when I knew he was different and had a big heart.
Even though I wasn’t in school, nor did I really care about it by this time in my life, I would always encourage him to go. Why? If his Mom or Dad were to find out about me, I didn’t want them to think I was a bad person.
I would ask him everyday how school was. He would always have a funny story to tell me, or tell me about how people would go crazy when he danced. He knew how to footwork really good. I really didn’t care too much about that. I was happy he was in school. We used to ride bikes from Rogers Park all the way uptown, and no matter where I went, I always knew somebody.
We used to go to all the parties. I remember one time, Isaiah called me to come to Evanston for a party. Evanston is a suburb right outside of Rogers Park going North one block past Howard street. It’s kind of big but not really. Evanston, that is. I got on the train, took it to Evanston, walked from the train to the party, and when I got to the party, it was over. I met up with a few friends out there, including Isaiah.
The party was over, but we were still outside of the building where the party was, talking to girls that were there. That’s all I came out there for, anyways.
There were these two girls riding past in their car and Isiah flagged them down. They made a U-turn in the middle of the street and joined us, and the other girls that were standing outside with us. It was like an after party on the same block the party was on but that only lasted about 30 minutes.
Some of us were in the car that the girls pulled up in, and the next thing you know, all I heard was gunshots. I started running towards the car that the girls pulled up in. They drove off and left us. I thought it was over. I looked to my right side and saw Isiah jogging, catching up to me and the first thing he said was, “Man, yo fat ass fast.�
I look up the street and the car that drove off on us stops. My friend Rick gets out the car and walks towards us saying, “I’m not leaving yall.” The car drove off and left us. But we ended up getting in a cab and taking it all the way to Rogers Park. After we got in the cab, I felt much better because everybody was okay and we were going home. The first thing I said in the cab was, “I’m never coming to Evanston again,” and we all laughed.
So as we got closer to the neighborhood, I looked at the meter in the cab and on that day I only brought enough money to get on the train. I only had a bus card and it was 50 dollars, so I looked at Isiah and I asked him did he have any money, and he said, “No.” I asked my other friend Rick if he had some money and he said, “No.” I got the same feeling I just had when we got shot at. I was scared all over again.
I said to myself, “We’re going to jail.” As we got in the neighborhood, the meter said 60 dollars now. The car stops and my friend Rick says, “Man, we just got shot at. You saved our life.” The cab driver laughs and says, “Yall good,” and let us out of the cab. After that, we met up with the rest of our friends and the girls which they were still with. We told them they were bogus for leaving us and they apologized, but in all actuality we were happy to be alive. So we forgave them and kicked it the rest of the night.
I remember one day we went to 7/11 and this certain guy that worked there lived in the neighborhood. He would always let us get free stuff, but this day we grabbed a lot of stuff this time, food and candy. We went up to the beach and saw this homeless guy. We gave him the food and we felt good about that. We were just teenagers at the time. I don’t know too many teenagers who did stuff like that, so we felt good about it.
We were walking down the street one day and it was quite a few of us. It was the weekend and we were drinking and me and Isaiah walked to the store, just the two of us, and he told me he wanted to be just like me because everybody knows me and likes me. But I told him, “Naw, you wanna be better than me.� He was younger than me and I wanted what was best for him, like becoming a doctor, or lawyer, or maybe a basketball player.
Just something better than being in the streets because he was a good kid. School was good for me up until high school. I was a good kid, too. I just wanted to be like the people I was around, and not all of them were good people to hang around. So I started messing up in school and hanging in the streets a lot and I fell victim to that. I didn’t want that to happen to him. Time went by, and we hang out more and more, and he grew to be more than just a friend. He was like a little brother I never had.
I ended up getting locked up for something minor. I was only locked up for a week and a half. While I was locked up, my child’s mother came and saw me and told me Isaiah was killed. I didn’t believe it til I got out and found out what really happened, this was the first time I ever lost somebody that I use to hang out with on a daily basis.
When I saw one of his footworking videos, I cried like a little girl. Knowing I wasn’t gon see him again really hurt. I got out in time to make it to his wake, and for some strange reason I seen him smile in his casket. I smiled and wasn’t sad anymore because he looked like he had a small smile on his face. He looked like he was at peace.
le I didn’t think His wake was nice. A lot of people came, including peop way and his son the was gon’ come. At the time he died, he had a son on parties a lot, and looks just like him. I see him at my daughter’s birthday it’s like looking at him all over again.
I remember at one of my daughter’s birthday parties. I seen my daughter playing with Isaiah’s son. She was chasing him and he was too fast for her and my daughter sat on the floor breathing hard and he said, “Come on, Winter.” And she said, “No, you're too fast.” And I laughed, and the only thing I was thinking was, “Man, only if he could see this.”
When Isaiah died, it let me know that it could be anyone of us. I had my first daughter the same year he died, and I felt blessed because now I really have something to live for. When I see his son I think about how it would be if he was here to see his son and be in his life and what impact it would have on him as far as being a father. So instead of just talking about him, this is my way of showing his son how great of a person his Dad was, by writing a book about him since he is not here to show him himself.
So, with that being said, I know you’re probably thinking “regular teenager story in Chicago”, but that’s because I was no different at that age. And I am now a published author, thanks to Contextos. I barely know anybody that has their high school diploma, let alone wrote a book. That’s big where I’m from… Well, to me that is. This is for any teenager reading this. Don’t let nobody tell you what you can and can’t do. You can do anything you put your mind to.
Max Chessher I am from up North From bus cards and Carl Budding meat I am from the Bully B Looks nice, but not sweet Ashland Street I am from football Early mornings before school starts I’m from birthday parties and summer time barbeques From Michele Chessher and Anthony Woods I’m from the home cooked Sunday meals And my dad yelling at the t.v. over a football game From mind your own and you will live long And respect your elders I’m from Christians & non-Christians I’m from Chicago Collard greens and ham From the family that never separates Even if that means living at home at 30 Georgia Taylor’s house where she has pictures of everybody Pictures that keep everybody’s memories alive
Until the lion learns to write his own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb Copyright © 2020 ConTextos