Myron ‘Tony’ Swift…I remember the first time I met this cat…It was the first day of school…Ms. Demasso’s 3rd grade class at Fremont Elementary…there he was standing in line at the door, donning a full length beige trenchcoat (you know the coat…the Redwood And Ross variety…the sign of a future CEO and/or an illicit street capitalist hustler). Myron was a combination of both, he had the instincts of a street harden O.G. and the charisma of a nine years young shorty…needless to say we became tight and navigated our way through early childhood school experiences…him putting me on to the artform of poorly copied hip hop cassette hand-to-hand analog file sharing…before it became digital!…names like the The Skinny Boys, The Cartoon Crew, Joeski Love, Schooly D (study up dunnys)…Myron was ahead of his time…dude and his younger brother were doing headspins on their coats…over concrete sidewalks during the infancy stage of breakdancing…countless hours were spent honing our best Air Jordan/Dominque Wilkins impressions. As we entered junior high (W.K. stand up!) and the inherent differences in our backgrounds became more profound, we naturally drifted apart and fell in with our own respective peer groups (crews)…we randomly saw each other in the hallways or after school and we would give each other a pound and share a laugh…but see Myron had to grow up a lot quicker then most kids his age, he was raised by a single mother and his older bother had been killed (over some drug beef) when he was still just an impressionable kid, plus he had a young brother to shield and provide for…So as natural as funk is to a crackhead junkie…Myron took to the streets to earn his income and along the way built up a rep as one you didn’t want to cross, cause as good as a friend he was, he was a better enemy, going to amazing lengths to protect what he had earned. Fast forward past the sensationalized hood tales to the winter of ‘94 outside of a session of nightschool, who should I bump into outside in the parking lot…none other than Myron (almost like a flashback to ‘85…the 3rd grade…360 degrees…a full circle) this time we casual bullshitted while smoking an El…once the blunt was finished he gave me pound and disappeared into the Battle Creek night…Little did I know, that would be the last time we would ever cross paths…two weeks later Myron was gatted down on a Northside Battle Creek street corner. At the time it never sunk in how much his life had a impact on mine, but 14 years later I find my self connecting the dots…Myron was and is an important piece of what I’ve become…he’s that throwback voice I hear sometimes in high-pressure situations giving me that encouragement to make something out of nothing…He’s that street cat that sometimes comes out of me when I’m running off at the mouth…more then anything he has enriched my social life learning curve…I’ll always pull for the underdog because of that dude! If your ever in town take a minute, stroll down the shadows of College Street and read Myron’s story it is the one scrawled in blood stained text/font on the walls and streets, while your there say what’s up to Twelve, Brent (Solo Sr.), or Corey. They’ll tell ya the same thing…Rest In Peace Myron Swift…A true Battle Creek legend…Thanks for everything Cousin!

Cuban Link of the day (crime-related in remembrance of Myron): Newstory on one of my eighties idols growing up…(Pele’)  Just goes to show you even legends are not immune to the streets…If you get a chance, check out the movie ‘The City Of God” it coincides with this story…a stark showcase of Brazillian Slums and the kids who run them…Til next post…Peace!