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We decided to go across the railroad tracks into South Gate. In those days, South Gate was an Anglo neighborhood, filled with the families of workers from the auto plant and other nearby industry.
I watched the others take turns on my brother, this terror of a brother, and he doubled over, had blood and spew on his shirt, and tears down his face.
It was his one last thing to hold onto, his rep someone who could take a belt whipping, who could take a beating in a neighborhood and still go back and risk more.
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