Santeria

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First and foremost, I respect all religions. What I’m revealing today is only about my own experience. I’m not saying it’s everyone’s experience.

My father, like many Cubans, practiced Santeria, which has its roots in Yoruba, a religion that slaves brought from Africa. Because they weren’t allowed to practice their religion, it was hidden behind, and eventually influenced by, Roman Catholism. However, in my many homes growing up, there were no signs of the Christianity. No Bibles or pictures of Jesus.

There were, though, many symbols of Santeria. In the kitchen on top of the cabinets were vases and jars full of sugar, honey and coins, to bring in money. Behind the front door were a brown coconut with a cigar half smoked and an expresso coffee cup on a plate. (I have no idea why.)

In the freezer next to the food were coffee cans that had little pieces of paper with names written on them. When I asked my father about the cans in the freezer, he said, “Those individuals are being cooled down.”

My father was a career criminal and I guess he needed all the help he could get.

As I was connecting to the Colombia cartels, I knew the consequences would be great if I got caught. I didn’t have a crystal ball per se, but I had Maria.

She was pretty famous tarot reader in Miami with a background in Santeria. Her claim was that she could prevent or fix any problem, and her client list included an executive secretary from the White House, whom I met, lawyers, doctors, high ranking Miami city officials, and, she said, priests. She also saw a number of drug dealers.

Drug dealers all have the same problem: “I want it Now!” They’re impatient, always looking for short cuts, and that’s what Maria seemed to promise. Whether the client wanted LOVE, MONEY, a JOB, or help with a LEGAL PROBLEM, she could get it for them, she said. But as I learned the hard way, short cuts don’t work.

I saw Maria a few times and she always told me that my road was clear but that a tall women with long brown hair would get me into trouble, so stay away from her. Then she gave me a protector to always carry with me.

Since The Golden Rules that Pedro taught me said don’t do drug business with women, I thought I was in the clear on that. But desperate circumstances got the better of me, and it was a female confidential informant who brought me down.

The complete story of my experiences with Santeria and getting busted will be in my forthcoming memoir.

P.S. My own beliefs have always been Christian. As soon as I could drive a car, I went to church to open that channel with the Lord because I knew in my heart it was the right place for me to be.

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“Sunshine Award”

SUNSHINE AWARD

I’m excited and I’m stunned. Another award has come knocking on my door! I would like to thank Spasmostar http://spasmostar.wordpress.com for nominating my blog for The Sunshine Award. I’m truly honored.

It really has been an amazing year so far, thanks to you all. I so appreciate all the kindness and unconditional LOVE…….The Baggage Handler

As part of the nomination, I was asked to answer 10 random questions about myself.

1. What is your favorite season? Summer. I miss the heat (and beat) of Miami.

2. What is your favorite dinner food? Freshly made vegetable soup. It’s healthy, warm and delicious.

3. What is your wakie-wakie in the morning? Hot tea (with sugar and milk)

4. What is your weakness? My two divorces! My failed marriages.

5. What is your strongest point? I’m able to read between the lines.

6. Do you like to cook or bake? Cook. They say cooking is an art and baking is a science. I always was better at art than science.

7. What was your favorite cartoon as a kid? Bugs Bunny. I still watch it.

8.What is your favorite fatty food? French fries. I know I shouldn’t…

9. What do you like to wear on special occasion? A slim-fit suit with a tie

10. What would be your idea place to live? Hawaii. That was the plan. Make a million with the drugs, move to Hawaii. I should have known that would never work out. Still, one day, perhaps, legitimately, I’ll get there. Ahola, baby!!

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Old Currency is Still a Big Hit

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The Federal Reserve Banks are responsible for collecting old worn-out money and distributing new money to banks and other institutions.
       The branch in Miami, Florida, was responsible for exchanging these currencies with Central and South America. To do this, they used commercial airlines.
       This is how it worked: the old money came in the belly of the plane. New money went out on separate flights. Sometimes when flights came in really late with old currency, there was opportunity for a heist.
       The new money was sent in see-through plastics bags — as though The Federal Reserve was daring bad employees to take it! However, the money isn’t good until it’s activated, and the US treasury doesn’t do that until it arrives at its final bank destination.
       So, the old currency is actually more valuable to the criminal since it could be more easily spent privately among friends. Of course, those serial numbers are being traced too, so eventually, the criminal would get caught.
       In the middle of 2006, when I was DEA confidential informant, I was approached by the U.S. postal inspector, with whom I had an excellent rapport. As you’ll read in my book, I always found what the postal inspector was looking for, which was why he came to me again.
       The inspector told me that the night before, $5 million in old currency had been stolen from a late-night flight from Brazil. If I gave them information of the whereabouts of the money and the individuals involved, I would get a reward of 25% of the amount that was recovered!
       This was something I could have done. I knew all the crews that liked to steal old currency, so all I would have to do is look to see who was working that flight. That would have taken me straight to the source. But I was in a tight spot!
       As you will read in my book, by that point, el Griego, my partner in crime, had blown my cover. Also, despite what he would claim, I didn’t want to implicate anyone I worked with. In the four-and-a-half years I was a CI, I was able to protect everyone there but him. (That’s another story.)
       So I turned down the opportunity to make $1.25 million.

Excerpted from the forthcoming memoir, The Baggage Handler.

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Crazy Cuban

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Crazy Cuban

In a rare phone call from Special Agent Steve, the leader of the DEA team that I served as a confidential informant, he said, “JJ, I’m throwing a bone your way.”

This meant he was giving me the opportunity to prove, again, that the DEA should continue to rely upon me and keep me out of jail for drug smuggling.

Then he proceeded to ask me to find out everything I could about a particular cargo airline they had their eye on. What kind of planes did they use? How many times a day did they come in from Bogota and Caracas?

Then he said, “JJ, if you were going to put drugs on this airline, when would you do it?”

After a few weeks of investigating, I decided that the best time to smuggle drugs was the 4 a.m. flight from Caracas on a Tuesday or Wednesday because the plane would practically be empty, and that flight used a wide-body plane, where cargo is in containers, not loaded by hand, so there would be less of an opportunity for others to steal the product.

About four months after I gave my report, they were ready to make their move, and my handler called me, telling me to come in immediately, wearing my American Airlines uniform and airport ID. I told work I was sick and was at the DEA office in 30 minutes.

The whole team was there, all suited up in their bulletproof vests and with guns in their holsters. In the room was also a young CI named “Flaco,” whose eyes were wandering around the room, looking as scared as I had years before.

The plan was to insert me into the case. I was the guy that Flaco had used to move the drugs out of the airport, and I was to tell his Cuban contact that US customs had confiscated the drugs and the 25 kilos were gone. This was a loss of $500K!

I was supposed to offer to work for free to make things right and get him to send more drugs. I was also supposed to try to get the Cuban to give up his source in Caracas.

I’d done similar things before, but I wanted to know how angry Flaco’s contact would be. I never have been a tough guy. I’m the baggage handler. I get things done, and I never hurt anyone while doing it. I wanted to know exactly what I would be walking into.

Flaco said that the Cuban would be very upset, even madder than if I’d been cheating with his wife.

That didn’t make me feel better, but I’d dealt with that kind of anger before—hell, I grew up with it—so I thought I could reason with him. What actually bothered me more was Flaco. As we were driving to the location, I could see him changing colors. It was his first undercover case, and he was driving very slowly. I was concerned that he was going to blow our cover—whether accidentally or on purpose, I didn’t know.

I had been trained to recognize if a suspect is wearing a gun, but I didn’t even get the chance. As soon as we arrived at the restaurant where we were meeting, the crazy Cuban attacked me, threatening my life and hitting me. As he turned, I saw his gun and knew there was no way I could do my job. I’d be lucky at that point to get out alive.

Excerpted from the forthcoming memoir, The Baggage Handler.

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“Dimelo”

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Rookies, fresh from Farm! –the DEA training facility in Virgina

When I was a CI (confidential informant), during a weekly debriefing with my DEA handlers, a dozen rookie agents, fresh from completing their training at the Virgina academy, filed into the small room.

A new task force was being formed to combat the growing meth and Ecstasy problem. In south Florida these new agents were going to go after the small fish, which would eventually lead them to the bigger fish.

Over the next few months, these rookies practiced on me how to debrief a CI. They did a great job, but they were so young and so white. One reminded me of Justin Bieber and another of Ron Howard when he was Opie.

One of my handlers, Johnny, asked me what I thought about the new guys.

I said, “They’re very white for Miami! And they look like cops from a mile away. Like they just came from the farm.”

Johnny laughed and said, “I know, but we know where to place them!”

Given the DEA’s 99% conviction rate, I’m sure he was right.

Later, in front of the rookies group, I was asked what the most important things are that a CI should be told to do.

I said:

— Never waste the DEA’s manpower time.

— Never lie or make a false statement to try to get yourself out of trouble. Informants have to prove what they’re saying through audio and video.

— No entrapment!

My handlers, David and Johnny, smiled, but I had one more thing to add. I looked at each of the new agents, then said:

“My handlers do this to me all the time. Never ask a CI what time they can come in for debriefing. Don’t let them make their own schedule. Tell them, ‘I need you to come in after work or when ever.’ As the agents, you create a schedule for your CI.”

Both of my handlers started laughing out loud — as though I didn’t know how to read between the lines! But that’s why I was so successful with them. We had a mutual respect, great communication, and they knew I sincerely wanted to redeem myself. They asked for my opinion, and trusted and believed in my judgment.

I also taught them all how to speak Spanish Cuban-style. They all said “Dimelo?” which means, “What’s up?”

Imagine a bunch of white guys saying, “Dimelo?”

It was so cool to hear!
Excerpted from my forthcoming memoir, The Baggage Handler.

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Beautiful Blogger Award

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What a wonderful week! First, I’m nominated for the Versatile Blogger Award, and then when I share my fondest memories, as requested for the award, Jenness Johnston http://jennessjohnston78.wordpress.com/ nominates me for the Beautiful Blogger Award! Jenness, your appreciation of my sharing these real things in my life means so much to me.

I am grateful to all of you for acknowledging my attempt to amend my past through my writing. I have been praying for those dark days to leave my life for good. And all of you great bloggers and readers out there lighten my spirit with your kind words and forgiving hearts. This is only confirmation that I’m on the right track to getting my life back and being an example to all those who are stuck in their life. God bless you all…JJ

For the award, I was asked to give 7 random facts about me. Here they are:

1. I have two plants. One looks a little like a palm tree, and I call it “Cher,” because it has a long, slender stem and a lot of long leaves. The other is short and stopped growing. Of course, that’s “Sonny.” When I talk to them every morning, their leaves respond to the sound of my voice.

2. I recently became a vegetarian. I’m working my way to turning vegan.

3. I also recently found some good friends that I can count on. They gave me the nickname “Cuba.” Yes, probably because my parents are from there, but I don’t really look it. I’m a white boy with blue eyes who grew up speaking Spanish, and I can dance salsa.

4. I enjoy running. It gives me a sense of freedom.

5. In the summer in the late afternoon, I open my bathroom window, turn off the light, turn up the mellow music and take the most relaxing shower ever.

6. After everything that has happened in my life, I have learned to appreciate the simple and humble again.

I can’t think of a seventh, so I’ll just close with this:

To all you amazing and wonderful moms out there, Happy Mother’s Day! You make the world beautiful. JJ

I’ll be back in two weeks with a new blog. You all rock!

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” Versatile Blogger Award “

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I would like to thank Shruti Srinivasan, http://anushrusrini.wordpress.com/author/anushrusrini/, for nominating my blog, The Baggage Handler, for The Versatile Blogger award. To be recognized by such an awesome site is truly an honor. I gratefully accept the nomination.

It feels as though my journey hasn’t even begun, yet all of your positive feedback and the outlook you’ve given me in your posts have given me a stronger voice as I talk about the corruption that happens in our airports. Thank you so much for that.

Warmest Regards,

The Baggage Handler Aka…JJ

For the award, I was asked to provide six of my fondest memories:

1. The first time I kissed a girl. I was 11, and I had my eyes closed. The second time, I peeked. The third time the most beautiful eyes stared back at me. I will never forget her or that moment.

2. I love to dance! When I was little, my uncle used to give me five dollars to dance in front of the family. I did it, but I was shy. When I got older, I became a salsa instructor just for fun.

3. I also love baseball. When I was a kid, my favorite player was Tom Seaver #41, pitcher for the New York Mets. Before he was pitching a game, I would go buy a slice of pizza and an RC cola and go home and watch him pitch. “Go Mets!”

4. When I was 5, my brother, Albert, showed me how to tie my sneakers. It took me an hour to learn, and then I was off to the races.

5. My sweet and sour moments were watching my children smile without their front teeth. They grow up so fast. I was their tooth fairy, and I still have all of their teeth.

6. When my children were young, I was working 16 hours a day, so I hardly got to see them. After I fell asleep, they would sometimes all crawl into bed and cuddle in with me, like a giant puppy pile. I’d wake up and just listen to them breathing. They did that because they missed me. Now, I miss them!

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