I was part of the mafia. It was a difficult life, sometimes we were cheerful, sometimes we having fun and sometimes we were really depressed and angry because of the many friends that died in battle. We were chased by the police all the time. We had lots of shootouts, we were all the time backing each other, I got shot two times and I was still living. They called me Iron Man. We were a close family; We didn't betray each other for nothing in the world. We bought our guns, car, food, bullets, houses with our Italian restaurant placed around the city, they were like our bases, the police didn't know about them. It was a joyful time; it was my tenth year in the mafia.
But on the 16th of October 1910 all we had built, all we had achieved vanished. It was late at night; we were at our most important restaurant near the old water tower. At that time it continued pumping water for our houses. It was raining, we heard some cars coming. We were playing cards; suddenly the police broke the door down and started firing at us. We were not ready for that. How did they know our location? I started running running as fast as I could and escaped.
I finally understood what happened. One of our brothers sold us out; our brotherhood betrayed had been broken. I had to escape to Mexico. I still miss that beautiful city, full of life and joy. I wish I could go back bud sadly I can't.