complexion, and meaner than a junk-yard dog, in the street gangs of East L.A. When he was seventeen years old, he and another dude went down to the soup kitchen on 19th Street, intending to raise hell, but instead, Joe Burton raised heaven.
As the two headed inside, a preacher was preaching to the winos and the homeless. Joe took a length of chain out of his jacket and headed for that Holiness preacher. Well, Sir, that Holiness preacher looked right into Joe’s blue eyes, stuck his finger straight out at him, and said, “Son, God has something he wants you to do!”
Joe stopped dead in his tracks as that Holiness preacher, unafraid, fastened his eyes on him. Joe knew he had better not move. He didn’t. His buddy ran off, but Joe stayed, just sat down right there, and stayed till that preacher was done preaching.
That Holiness preacher walked over to Joe and laid his hand on Joe’s head. He proceeded to pray in some language Joe had never heard before, and this went on for about fifteen minutes. After the preacher prayed awhile, Joe felt something like electricity go through his body. Mean Joe Burton hit the floor on his knees, forever changed.
Joe did not believe in accidents or coincidences after that, so wherever he went, he figured God had him there for a reason. And so it was when he got the call to report to work for Gil Smith and Jesse Smallwood in a custom speed shop in Costa Mesa. He had put out a bunch of job applications, and they were apparently the only ones that had kept him on file. He had worked on rods since he could not remember when, and he loved to take them apart and put them back together again. His cars had won many races on the streets of East L.A. and on the track.
After that incident with the chain and the Holiness preacher, Joe had learned to hear the voice of God. He had learned a few other things about God in the process. He wasn’t a mystic or anything; he just went with what was, and he didn’t know any other way.
Since growing up on the mean streets, he had lived from moment to moment. He was used to living in a real and dangerous present, with no concept of a future. On the streets of East L.A., there was no future.
Joe was helping Jesse put a fiberglass body on a custom rod at the time God spoke to him. The Holy Spirit spoke to Joe, saying, this is the man whom you will help if you will follow me and do my will. Joe made up his mind he would, and he did.
The week after Joe went to work there; Jesse Smallwood was in a car crash on the San Diego freeway. Joe planned to go see him, but the Holy Spirit said, “Not yet.”
Two weeks went by, and Joe asked, “Now Lord?” The Lord said, “Not yet.”
Three weeks went by, and Joe asked, “Now Lord?” The Lord said, “Not yet.”
Six weeks went by, and one day the Lord spoke to Joe and said, “Now go.” Joe went.
Part3
Two weeks after Jesse got home, Gail Dorsey came by his apartment and broke off the engagement. She told him that he could not provide what she needed. Jesse threw a whisky bottle that narrowly missed her and shattered against the door.
Gail left in a hurry, and immediately started looking around for more suitable company – someone who could provide her with money. At the very least, she needed a handsome dude that could walk. Gail Dorsey, the prettiest girl in all of L.A., wasn’t about to marry a cripple.
Three weeks after Jesse got home; Gil came by and said he wanted to buy him out. Jesse said to go ahead and buy him out, and then to get the hell out of his apartment. He hurled a whisky bottle at him as he exited. That added to the broken glass on the floor. The only thing that saved either Gail or Gil was Jesse’s bad aim.
Three weeks and one day after Jesse got home, he had passed out in his tiny living room when Joe Burton knocked on his door. Joe walked around to the window, looked in, and saw Jesse lying on the floor. He went back around and turned the doorknob. The door was unlocked, and he went in.
Joe looked around the place at the squalor; he looked down at Jesse on the floor. His face was bearded and dirty. Bottles and broken glass lay everywhere. He saw a glint of light from the glass on the floor by the door and the dried whiskey stains on the doorpost and walls. There was not a spot in the house that was clean. To make matters worse, Jesse had urinated all over himself, the couch, and the rug.
The stench was nauseating, but Joe hung in there. It didn’t smell any worse than East L.A. most of the time, and he figured he could handle it. He dragged Jesse into the bathroom, stuffed him into the shower, clothes and all, and turned the water on full blast. Jesse yelled when the cold water hit his skin. He swung at Joe, but Joe had grown up swinging and getting swung at on the streets, and he wasn’t about to get hit by a drunk in a shower.
Joe calmly cleaned Jesse up while Jesse yelled and cursed and tried his best to knock Joe’s head off. By the time Joe had him cleaned up; Jesse had used up every epitaph known to humanity. Joe finally got him up and out of the shower, and got a clean shirt and jeans out of the closet. He helped Jesse get dressed, and then helped him to the couch. By that time, Jesse was tired of swinging at a ghost, and he just went along with it, with only a few more choice words for Joe.
Joe acted as if he did not hear a thing Jesse said. He rummaged through Jesse’s kitchen until he found a can of soup and put that on a burner to heat.
Jesse glared at him from across the room, and finally he said, “What are you doing here, dude, did you quit or get fired?”
“Neither one; it’s Saturday and I’m off.”
“Well then, what you doing here?”
“I like to spend my Saturdays cleaning up drunks. It’s the thrill of a lifetime, ya know?”
“No, I didn’t know, and I don’t give a damn.”
“Look, Jesse, I’ll go if you insist, but I want to help you if you will let me.”
“Why?”
“Because Jesus loves you and cares about you. I care about you, too.”
“Yeah, right, he really cares. Look at me, dude, do I look like he really cares?”
“Was that accident his fault? Do you think he caused that accident?” Joe paused for a moment.
“Look, Jesse, I grew up in East L.A., hungry most of the time. I ate out of garbage cans because my mother was a dope addict and a whore. Her pimp got most of the money, and the dope got the rest.”
“When I got old enough to be good at stealing, I stole to eat, and when I got old enough to be accepted by the gangs, I joined. My initiation was shooting an old man who wasn’t bothering anybody. The man didn’t die, but it was not because I was not trying to kill him. But God cared; he cared enough to stop me just before I beat one of his ministers to death with a chain.”
Jesse looked at Joe with new eyes and said, “I’m sorry, dude, I didn’t know all that.”
“There is a lot you don’t know, Jesse, but know this – if you don’t listen you will die. Then you will spend eternity in hell for your trouble.”
“Losing the use of your legs is not the end of the world. You can either crawl out of the sewer and live, or you can stay in it and die. It’s as simple as that. God cares, and can give you a life more than you ever dreamed.”
Jesse was listening now. He was silent a while, and then he said, “How? My business is gone; I can’t build cars this way. How is he going to help me, dude? Look at me!”
“He sent me to help you, dude. I can build cars, and you have some money to get by on for now. Will you let me help you, Jesse? God has a work for you to do.”
Tears came to Jesse’s eyes, and he looked out the window to the street. “I’m scared, Joe. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
“I know, dude, but I won’t abandon you, and God won’t abandon you, Jesse.”
Jesse leaned over the arm of the couch and wept in his fear and frustration, until the couch was wet with his tears of pain. Joe walked over, laid his hand gently on Jesse’s head and prayed for him.
The next day, Jesse agreed to move in with Joe. Joe took him to his apa
rtment, and then hauled over those things of Jesse’s that he hadn’t destroyed.
The next Sunday, Joe wheeled him into his church. People shook Jesse’s hand one after the other, and Jesse entered a whole other world than the one he knew. One woman reached over and hugged him close, and Joe saw tears in Jesse’s eyes.
Jesse’s parents had perished in a boating accident when he was eighteen. He had gone to the car races instead of on the boating trip. Jesse had not voiced it to anyone, but he missed his mom’s hugs so much. He had sold the house, moved into the apartment, and used the money to go halves with Gil on The Speed Shop.
When that woman heeded God’s urging and hugged Jesse close, it melted Jesse’s hardened heart, and the bitterness from his mother’s passing melted away.
The pastor came up and Joe introduced him to Jesse. The pastor was one of the kindest men Joe had ever known, and he had the same effect on Jesse that he had had on Joe.
The next Sunday, Jesse rolled his wheelchair up to the front of the church and publicly acknowledged Jesus Christ as his Savior. The week following that, Joe rolled Jesse up the aisle to the little church’s baptismal font. His friend helped