Danny "Dog Man" Jones began selling American Bulldogs to the notorious brothers Demetrius "Big Meech" and his brother Terry "Southwest T" Flenory. He went from selling dogs, rehabbing houses and driving for some of the BMF members to eventually gaining the trust of one of the brothers and becoming one of the managers of the St. Louis faction of BMF.With brothers Big Meech and Terry indicted and behind bars, life changed for Danny overnight. He was gunned down, surviving seventeen bullets from a .40 caliber semi-automatic weapon, which riddled through numerous parts of his entire body. After several surgeries and regaining consciousness, Danny reiterates, "The Dog Man is alive and the truth must be told" he states. Danny tells his story in this seventeen chapter memoir, each chapter representing the seventeen bullets which could have ended his life.
Who knew that the Black Mafia Family was not only in St. Louis, but a major hub for the country's largest cocaine trafficking organization? A well written page turner that tells the whole story, and in entertaining fashion.
I first heard about the BMF (Black Mafia Family) on a Netflix documentary. I was blown away by how coordinated the criminal enterprise was (the doc was a bit like "Cocaine Cowboys" in showing how every facet of the organization functioned like a cog in a well-oiled machine). Add to that the fact that I've spent some time in St. Louis and have been fascinated with the city for some time (it's where both Spinks Brothers hail from, and where "Escape from New York" was filmed) and a book about the BMF in Saint Louis was a no-brainer for me.
The book reminds me a bit of Donald Goines' early forays (post- "Swamp Man" pre "Kenyatta" years). The prose is unpolished but you set aside those minor grievances because the guy's storytelling skills are sound, the world he describes is captivating, and his formative years weren't spent in places where correct grammar and syntax were being stressed or taught.
Danny Jones was a working-class black man living in the de-industrialized shell of Saint Louis, working for the train company intermittently (work was seasonal), and breeding dogs and rehabbing houses as a sideline during the heady "APPROVE!" years of the Dubya administration. His legitimate work brought him into contact with BMF senior members, flush with cash, who at first engaged his services legally as a chauffeur and dog trainer. Eventually, though, the siren call of quick money (duffel bags' full) lured him into the fast life, where the inevitable (jail, violence, betrayal) happened after a honeymoon period of "making it rain" cash in hotels, strip clubs, ringside at boxing matches, etc.
The first two-thirds of the book are good. The last third devolves a bit into Illuminati-style conspiracy theorizing laced with a heavy dose of black nationalist paranoia. By the time this part of the book was over, I felt like I'd been trapped in a holding tank with Oswald Bates (the Farrakhan-esque character played by Damon Wayans on "In Living Color") for a long weekend.
That said, Haymon has skill, and will no doubt improve if he keeps it up.