The Time I Got In A Stolen Van And Almost Ruined My Summer Vacation- On the FIRST Day

I’ve been planning on writing a blog for a while now. Almost 7 years.

That was back when I was driving a taxi at night in Boston.

I always had a million excuses.

At the time I was planning on doing a blog rating local restaurants.

A “mystery” Boston cabbie rating restaurants based on the feedback people gave me after they finished their meal.

I just didn’t have much time for a blog.

Now that I actually have the time, energy and quite honestly the confidence I figured,

“LETS GO!”

I decided NOT to write about restaurants but more about my life and business experiences.

Kind of a guide to help people going through similar struggles.

I think the blog will definitely evolve into something greater than that but until then I’m just going to write.

To kick off this blog I want to set the tone with a crazy story. A true story.

It happened back in the 90’s when I was a teenager.

My first day of summer vacation.

Because my mom loved me so much and wanted me to experience new things (it was actually punishment) she shipped me to Virginia to live with my dad.

Lackey Virginia to be exact.

Home of the Yorktown Naval Weapons Station and the infamous “Wind- Jammer”.

It was a raunchy night club and during the day they sold disgusting Chinese food.

It has long since closed.

When I first moved there I heard some war stories about that place.

All kinds of tales of stabbings and bar fights.

Who knows if any of it was true but it made for good conversation.

Lackey had a bad reputation. I fit right in.

Except for one major fact: I’m a city kid.

So here I am a city kid “locked up” in the country backwoods.

Everyone makes fun of my Boston accent.

Great.

If y’all ask me to say Hardee’s one more time I swear I’m gonna knock someone out.

Ok…”HAAHDEEZ”. I feel so outta place.

The only break from living in Virginia was every school vacation.

During Christmas vacation, spring break, summer vacation etc. I went back to Massachusetts.

My mom bought me a ticket on the Amtrack train up to Boston’s South Station.

I felt was like I wan on a prison furlough.

For a kid coming from the city to get away from the country was pure freedom.

I never got used to living that slower paced lifestyle with no subway system. It wasn’t for me.

I guess I’m just a city kid at heart…

Anyway.

I was on summer vacation. My first day back in Massachusetts.

I got a call, I forget exactly who it was, telling me one of my homeboys was on a pass from DYS (Department of Youth Services).

A.K.A. jail for kids.

He was at St. Mary’s park. In the Port.

I hadn’t seen him in a while and since it was my first day “out” too I was excited to see how he was doing.

It was about a 10 minute walk from my house to St. Mary’s park.

I hustled over there in 5 minutes huffing and puffing out of breath when I arrived.

It was him and one of his boys from the group home.

There were a few other dudes there too. A total of 8 of us.

Supposedly the two of them, my hommie and his boy on their day pass, had a van. A stolen van.

That’s how they got here all the way from Lowell.

Anyway.

We get in the van and start cruising around Cambridge.

Eventually my hommie and his boy wanted us to drop them back off so they wouldn’t get in trouble for being late from their day pass.

So we all decided whatever let’s go. Peer pressure at its worst.

We start driving to drop them back off in Lowell Massachusetts to DYS.

They actually did an HBO documentary in the 90’s about the crack epidemic in Lowell.

It was called High on Crack Street.

It’s a city about 25-30 miles north of Boston.

Eventually we get to Lowell. All 8 of us.

We dropped 2 off, that leaves 6 in case you’re bad with math.

We decided one guy would drive. How we decided I have no idea.

Jules.

So none of us know our way home, where we were or how to get back.

Jules starts weaving through the back roads trying to avoid the main streets where we could possibly be spotted by the police.

We come up on an intersection. A really bad intersection in a town called Wilmington.

When we get to the intersection we stop, then slowly head through the intersection.

BOOM! A lady slams right into us.

Mind you were in a big van. One of those old vans.

The ones that used to have couches sometimes a TV, a small bar and other cool stuff.

Well, when the lady hit us we really didn’t budge because the van was so heavy that it didn’t really impact us that much.

We kind of kind of bounced off each other but not that bad.

At that point we have one of two choices:

get out (then we’re all in trouble and go to jail) or drive away.

What do you think we did?

Absolutely…WE BURNED RUBBER!

But little did we know that there was a car behind us who just so happened to be an off-duty police officer with a cell phone.

He supposedly saw the whole incident and he was following us.

He called the local police with our exact location and which way we were headed.

After about 5 minutes of driving finally we heard sirens.

That dreaded sinking feeling. That lump in your throat.

I remember thinking “your first day back Mal…and your going to jail… WHAT AN IDIOT!”

Then…the CHASE IS ON!

We start driving up one street then up another- the cops following right behind us with sirens blaring.

Finally we get to a main street; an intersection right before a small bridge. I can see a train station to our right.

Of course we’re all nervous inside the car, yelling and screaming at Jules telling him which way to go.

But when he finally gets to that small intersection right before the bridge, there’s a red light with cars.

We all BAIL out…

That is except for one guy, this is what he did…

He assumed the cops would follow the crowd, so what he did was he hopped from the middle part of the of the van to that small gap between the rear seat row and the back doors.

He jumped over thinking that the police would follow everyone else.

Unfortunately for him he was the first one they caught. Locked up. Straight to juvenile detention.

Now everybody else, the remaining 5 including me, all scattered out of the van and scurried off to the right- towards the train station.

The remaining four besides me all bust out to the right and I bolted to the left.

Mind you I have these bright red long jean shorts.

I swear I’m standing out LITERALLY like a sore thumb and I’m definitely going to get caught- no matter what.

That’s what I’m thinking.

There’s no way I’m going to get home but what do I have to lose right? Let’s try.

I break off, alone, to the left and I head off in between a few rows of one story office buildings and a bank.

I hide in some bushes about 100- 150 yards away from the main road.

I lay there in the bushes and I could swear I was hearing all types sirens, dogs and helicopters flying all around.

The the whole force was looking for me. At least that’s what I thought.

I decided I’m just going to hide and bide my time and hopefully I’ll get away.

Crouching there in the bushes getting eaten alive by the mosquitoes.

It’s right at the beginning of summer vacation. Towards the end of June.

At this point I’m getting eaten alive by the mosquitoes all for the sake of my freedom 

I notice in the background I can hear a train and I remember seeing a station from where we jumped out of the van.

I know now that the train is coming and going every 30 minutes or hour or so because I can hear the brakes screech when it pulls in.

I have no watch and no way of gauging time so I’m sitting there in the bushes just waiting and waiting for the right opportunity so I can get back to the train tracks.

That’s my only way out.

I stay there for what I believed to be two hours maybe three at the most and I figure “things have died down let me make my move towards the train tracks”.

I slowly make my way towards the street and I come up on a house that has a big industrial trash bin outside.

At this point I can see the cars going up and down the road and I can see their headlights.

I’m not sure if one of them is going to be a police officer a police car

Now like I told you before I got these big bright red shorts on so if I get seen there’s no way I’m gonna go unnoticed.

And I have no idea what town or city I’m in.

I have no idea to know whether or not this is a racist town.

After living in Virginia for a few years I knew there were some towns my high yellow ass don’t belong in.

I’m scared that I’m going to stand out like a sore thumb because of my red shorts and the fact that I’m not white.

Which turns out wasn’t as big a deal as I thought but how was I to know that at the time?

At that point I realize I got to make my move; it’s now or never.

I finally get the courage to start creeping towards the train station.

Now I walk back up to the street, right past the spot where we jumped out of the van.

I quickly cross the street and walk to the train station.

I look at the map and the signs for the station and I realize that I’m in Wilmington.

From my keen sense of direction (that I can proudly say that I love to have at all times) I attempted to figure out which way to go.

Since I could remember I’ve always hate the feeling of being lost.

Maybe this is one of the instances in my life that help shape that feeling.

To this day I’m always conscious of my sense of direction.

So I realized that when we dropped my buddy off we came from this direction (which was to my right) so to get to safety and home gotta be to my left.

So I start walking to the left

Once I get to the next station I realize that I’m definitely going the right way.

I contemplated calling my mom but I know if I call her at this point that would be a mess and my vacation would be over.

She’d be yelling and screaming at me so I decided that I gotta walk home.

I have no idea exactly how long it was but I know I couldn’t get off the tracks at one of the cities or towns.

I’m not sure at this point if the cops would have the information of a kid jumping out of a stolen van with bright red shorts, and I can’t risk it.

I start walking and walking and walking and I get a couple stops take a couple breaks in between.

Suddenly as I’m continuing to walk between one of the stops I look behind me and I see a figure coming up the tracks.

Uh oh! Now I’m ready for anything. God only knows who it could be.

As the figure gets bigger and bigger I get more and more tense…

I’m ready for anything ready for a fight ready for whatever and then..

T!

My man T! Somehow he got away.

He said when the 5 of us jumped out of the van (he was with the group of four that went to the right) were coming down the hill to the train station that led to the train station he fell on the ground.

When he fell the other kids trampled over him so he just curled up in a ball and rolled over into the bushes.

He stayed there for a little while and then somehow ended up getting away as well.

We continued walking all the way to Somerville high school along Commuter Rail train tracks for what seemed to be forever. That’s where we finally went from walking on the tracks to walking on the streets toward each other’s house.

We split up. T lived in East Side and I lived in Central and we both made it home safely.

Now I don’t know exactly how long of a walk that was, but by my estimates it’s definitely longer than a marathon.

Turns out everyone got caught that day except me and T. Oh and my hommie and his boy who we dropped off back at DYS. Everyone else caught a case for that.

They all know who they are. They all know the story and I learned a valuable lesson that day, well 2 valuable lessons actually:

1. Don’t ever get in a stolen van ( DUH!)

2. Don’t follow the crowd ESPECIALLY if they’re going the wrong way.

It’s better to go in your own direction where at least you decide your fate, not the crowd.

I learned many valuable life lessons in this experience.

But these are just two that stood out to me.