Chewin in the Chung

At the University of South Florida in the 80’s, the student center had a bar called the Empty Keg. It was sweet. By “sweet”, I mean it was dark, dirty, and had cheap beer and pizza. Thursday nights was “Cavern Club”, when punk bands from around the state and country would play. I and my friends would drink, pose, and slamdance, though not necessarily in that order.

In the Spring of 1988, I got powerful drunk at Cavern Club one night. It was the kind of drunk where the world is glowing, everything is great, and you’re not swaying yet but you are going to be after you finish that next pitcher of beer.

All was good until a skinhead slammed into me, and made me spill my beer. There were always skinheads at these kind of events; some were neo-nazi types, some were not. This one had a swastika tattoo on his chest. So I pushed him. He cursed at me. We went outside to settle our differences like dumb kids.

Before round 1 could start, the young woman who managed Cavern Club came out and got between us, begging us to stop. It was pretty embarrassing- both of us testosterone charged and ready to fight, but neither of us would push the little girl out of the way and get to it. So we cursed and postured and agreed to meet the following night at Ybor City, where my adversary assured me “a hundred skins” would distribute my much needed beating. I went back inside, he went and hung out with the other skins in front of the student center.

A week later he was arrested and charged with First Degree Murder. His name was Dean McKee, and he had a younger brother named Scott who was also a neo-nazi skin. Dean and Scott had decided to beat up black winos in St. Petersburg, and when Scott started to get his ass kicked by their chosen victim, Dean stabbed Isiah Walker in the back. Word was that the police grabbed Scott, and he testified against Dean for a reduced charge.

Here’s Dean now:


He’s 32 years old, and he’s been in prison for 16 years. I do not know if he will ever be eligible for parole. For years I gloated over the story of the stupid Nazi skinhead that I almost fought who got sent to prison. Now, seeing his picture, I’m not so happy to have Justice staring at me out of this computer. And I feel nostalgic for the days when I knew exactly what was right in the world (Intellectual Marxists like me) and what was wrong (Nazis like him).