cause of all the people steppin' on it.  Finally I got our in the middle of a crowd who were going home from work and wondering who the hell this sewer rat was coming up from the underground.  Down below the train was still honking - I ran all the way home to Bay Ridge that day. Other times I did not get away and had to go scrubbing’. I remember meeting VINNY when I was scrubbing  trains and at the time me and AFX.2 were partners  and VINNY and AFX.2 had this little war going on the BMT's . I confronted VINNY on this because with the two going over each other sometimes some of my letters would get in the way, I brought it up to him and he denied it.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I was put in the 3YB crew Through Cliff 159 on 149th. Tee introduced me to him and Diablo. Tee used to hang on Atlantic and we'd go to 149th Grand Concorse and Continental Ave in Queens.  We'd watch IRTs, INDs and BMTs.  I was mostly up on the BMTs but had some INDs and a few 2 and 5s also. The tragic death of STIM One, I remember it well, it was me, Stim 1, his brother TEE 3YB, Aim SSB, and Lama. We had been benching on Atlantic Ave. that day and even seen one of STIM’s latest works; “STIM One – T to B – 3.Y.B.”, it was a whole car top to bottom. Little did any of us know it would be among his last pieces.

 STIM was not happy with it, the last few letters were only filled in, no outlines. He had been chased from the lay ups with unfinished business, he told us. After several busts he knew he would go to a  Juvenile delinquent home on his next bust. That was the last place he wanted to go. Imagine all those months locked up without getting up or even seeing a train. Juvenile delinquent home was no option for a writer, especially not so for STIM. Anyway, we crossed over to Pacific Street went downstairs and got on a Manhattan bound M- train. We were in the third car from the last, it was fairly crowded and we were standing in the back of the car all five of us.  The insides had newly been painted.  The temptation to hit on the panels was just too strong.  Aim had a red Mini in his coat pocket, pulled it out and started tagging.  The smell of fresh ink filled the car to some of our fellow passengers’ anger.

Before Aim even passed the marker to the next writer, STIM spots two DTs in the other end of the car and heading our way and yelling “STOP - hold it right there! ”.  The panic I saw in STIM’s eyes I will never forget. It was as if he was thinking “they’re gonna bust us and I’ll get put away”. So he pulled the door open and ran between cars into the next car, the second to last car.  In this car he must have pulled the emergency brakes ‘cause the train slowed down dramatically but did not stop completely…Finally, between the two last cars, STIM jumped out and into the dark tunnel.  The train was still moving slowly and finally it stopped completely.  There was suddenly an uneasy vibe throughout the whole train.  What happened? By this time the first car was already on the De Kalb Ave platform and the conductor soon announced to the passengers there had been “an accident” and to “exit the train through the first car”. The rest of us writers were still in the last car staring into the dark tunnel through the back window, hoping STIM had made it.  We were really in a state of shock and in denial, this couldn’t have happened. This shock turned in to anger when more uniforms were all over and we overheard the message from a walkie-talkie: “We need a stretcher, we got a D. O. A. in the tunnel” STIM died that day in January 1975 before he turned 15, may he forever rest in peace and may his spirit live