By Monica Alonzo
By Stephen Lemons
By Jason P. Woodbury
By Dulce Paloma Baltazar Pedraza
By Ray Stern
By Pete Kotz
By Monica Alonzo
By New Times
When the shooting erupted in the living room of the Pueblo Street crackhouse, Larry Jack had just stepped out of the apartment's bathroom. His babies, a 4-year-old girl and a little boy, just 20-months-old, were splashing in the tub as their mother fussed nearby. At first, the fire from the 9mm Baretta did not interrupt the water play.
"I heard two shots," says Jack, who recognized the gunfire readily and was jolted. He knew that Justin Monroe, a stone killer, was in the living room with "White Boy," who was armed with a pistol.
Although Jack, 26, was fully cranked, he remained calm.
"I stood still in the hallway," recalls Jack, who waited to see who would come out of the living room and, more important, what he would do.
"Monroe jumped out of the living room and bullets were just vanishing," says, Jack, describing how Monroe shot at him and missed. "I cut the lights off and he froze. I ran behind the bathroom door and slammed it shut. My kids hid behind the shower curtain.
"He fired three times through the door. The first bullet missed. The second and third bullets hit me in the mouth and chin."
Incredibly, neither of Jacks's babies were killed. Nor did they scream out.
"My kids were quiet," says Jack. "The spirit was on them. They didn't make a sound."
Not only were the children spared, they were not so much as scratched by the sizzling gunfire.
Jack was so hyped that he did not realize he'd been shot until his kids and his wife told him he was covered in blood.
By the time Jack staggered to the living room, White Boy was sprawled on the floor, dead, and Monroe was out the door and shooting at Gloria and Tammy Moore, who'd been hanging out in front of the apartment.
Monroe wounded Tammy as well as Gloria's 2-year-old daughter, Elizabeth.
It was February 9. Today, Justin Monroe sits in Madison Street Jail, accused of murdering Eric Ransom (White Boy) and attempting to murder Gloria, Tammy and Elizabeth Moore. And Larry Jack.
Although Monroe professes his innocence, Jack claims that all the adults on Pueblo knew that Monroe had murdered four people on nearby Chipman Street just 48 hours prior. That assertion corroborates one made to me last week by Howard Youngblood, who lives in a rental on nearby Chipman Street where four people were executed on February 7. Youngblood says he left that apartment on February 6, because he "had a funny feeling that something bad was going to happen."
Jack says that Gloria Moore confronted Monroe when he showed up at the Pueblo drug den.
"Gloria called him a murderer," he says.
The killer tried to put her off.
"He said he'd already done his time for that," Jack says.
(In 1997, Justin Monroe shot a 22-year-old to death, and he spent some time in jail before the killing was ruled self-defense.)
"She said, 'Nah, I'm talking about over there, Chipman.'"
On the night that four people on Chipman were cut down with a military assault rifle, Justin Monroe was seen going into and out of the crackhouse. The cops know this, too, but the witnesses are hardly model.
"We've talked to people who place him [Monroe] there," says one police source.
And everyone in the 24th Street and Broadway neighborhood who knew what was going on had seen Justin Monroe parading around the week of the killings with a fully automated SKS assault rifle.
The police have since served several search warrants, looking for the weapon.
"Everyone was smoking Sherm (PCP) over at Chipman," says Jack, who claims that those who saw Monroe around the time of the four Chipman murders were themselves drug users.
"By killing us, no one would know he'd done Chipman," says Jack. "He thought he was going to kill everyone and get away, but it didn't turn out like on Chipman."
It was a bloody week. All told, five people were killed and three were wounded at what Jack admits are crackhouses. All of the victims were tied to the Broadway Gangsters, the crew that runs the local real estate.
While Jack claims that the shootings on Pueblo were an attempt to ensure silence, he believes that the spree of February homicides is payback from enemies of the Broadway Gangsters.
Prior to this recent and highly publicized outburst of violence on Chipman and Pueblo, Jack says, the Broadway Gangsters shot and killed a Park South Crip known as "Bo" because, "The Crip shot at them. He was doing a lot of shooting and getting away with it."
If you ask on the street, you'll hear that following the Crip's death, the police snatched two Broadway G's, "Big Daddy" and "Jimbo," and are looking for three others, "KG," "Little Rocky" and "Dirty Red."
Jack thinks the Crips weren't inclined to wait for justice. Justin Monroe, he says, was an assassin.
"He was hired to kill as many Broadway Gangsters as possible," Jack alleges.
Jack claims Monroe floated back and forth between both gangs. He hung with Broadway Gangsters and even dated Jack's sister. He also claimed family ties to the Park South Crips, according to Jack.