George Rowe no longer lives as George Rowe. He's only able to identify his
whereabouts as "Somewhere, USA." A former fully patched member of the Vagos, he
no longer has anything to do with motorcycles or motorcycle clubs. The tattoos
inked into his neck and skull as a sign of allegiance to the so-called Green
Nation are long gone.
For seven years, Rowe has been part of the federal Witness Security Program he entered March 9, 2006 – the same day 700 federal agents conducted 27 raids on the Vagos Motorcycle Club Rowe had infiltrated as part of a takedown scheme known as Operation 22 Green. Now Rowe is telling his story in "Gods of Mischief," a memoir that chronicles the years he lived in the criminal underbelly of one of Southern California's most notorious outlaw clubs.
The group, which boasts 600 West Coast members, 200 of them in the Inland Empire where it was founded in 1965, is under continuous surveillance by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives and the California Attorney General's office for its involvement in crimes ranging from drug running and money laundering to vehicle theft, weapons violations, even murder.
In 2003, when Rowe first went undercover, his hometown of Hemet was under siege by "crank-fueled outlaws no one could control," he writes in a book that's as compelling as it is sleazy. Rowe had been riding bikes since he was "barely old enough to reach the shift lever of the little Hodaka my father bought me before he died" and had known the Vagos long before going undercover.
One of his brother's friends "wore the green," and he'd been friendly with a few senior members of the Hemet chapter before they received the patches that sealed their deal with the group. He "had no issues" with them until they become full Vagos members and started "screwing with the locals," he wrote in an email responding to interview questions brokered through his publisher. Rowe was not available to speak by phone for security reasons.
Now 52, Rowe is the latest in a long line of outlaw motorcycle club infiltrators, including "Koz" who went undercover with the Vagos, the Mongols and the Warlocks; Billy Queen, an ATF agent who infiltrated the Mongols; and Charles Falco, who, this week, is also publishing a memoir about his participation in Operation 22 Green called "Vagos, Mongols, and Outlaws." With "Gods of Mischief," Rowe adds a colorful new perspective to the experience, joining the ranks of many other books chronicling the outlaw motorcycle life from inside, including Hunter S. Thompson's 1966 classic "Hell's Angels" and Sonny Barger's 2001 best-seller, "Hell's Angel."
In the book, Rowe describes the violent and alcohol-infused upbringing that first brought him into contact with the outlaw club, though it wasn't until he was 42 that he actively attempted to join the Vagos. Hanging out was merely the first of three steps in a process that, he writes, "was like being screened through cheesecloth" to officially join the club's ranks.
He thought he'd only be involved with the Vagos for two months as part of the federal takedown. Instead, the sting operation lasted three years, during which he was expected to beat up rival club members and share his girlfriend to prove his club loyalty.
Most bikers who infiltrate motorcycle clubs and live to tell the tale are criminals who do so to reduce their prison time. But Rowe, who had served time for drug-related felonies twice, said he simply wanted to make amends with the town he had once terrorized as a meth maker, drug dealer and street brawler who, in his younger years, stole customers' belongings with a U-Haul.
Rowe might have abstained from taking action if not for a friend who, he says, was having a baby shower at a restaurant the Vagos frequented and was forcibly ousted from the pool table at which he was playing. Beaten up by the Vagos, Rowe's friend landed in the hospital, after which he disappeared. His body still hasn't been found.
"I became an informant because ... I wanted to do what was right," Rowe wrote in an email interview. "To be honest, I enjoyed being on the right side of the law for a change... It's nice not having a target on my back. It's a great relief – like breathing easy," he wrote, before adding that the being in witness protection is "no picnic."
"It's difficult walking away from your past and starting over. At times, it's even hard trying to remember who the hell you're supposed to be."
Rowe never intended to write his story, but after giving a talk at a law enforcement motorcycle gaxxx conference in New England a few years ago, he was introduced to a journalist who sold the idea to Touchstone/Simon & Schuster and ghost wrote the book, based on phone and in-person conversations with Rowe and the people with whom he was living during his infiltration. Much of the dialogue between Rowe and various Vagos were lifted from ATF transcripts recorded during the many times he was wired with audio and video equipment "tucked where the sun don't shine," he wrote in "Gods of Mischief."
"Gods of Mischief" is written "how I remember it, as true as I can tell it... That's me, warts and all," Rowe wrote in an email that was far more plainspoken than the off-color voice with which his memoir is written. In the book, Rowe said he wasn't much of a student and was illiterate in high school.
Now that he's living clean, without drugs or alcohol, under the protection of federal security, would he do it again?
That's "a question I've tossed around in my brain quite a few times," he wrote in the email. "Too much of my life was lost during those undercover years and the years that followed. If I was back in that time under similar circumstances, I honestly can't say for certain what choice I'd make."
Still, he believes the type of work he did is necessary.
"These undercover operations are a service to the public. Informants are out there right now risking their lives and collecting valuable intelligence that will remove weapons, drugs and felons from the streets."
http://www.ocregister.com/articles/rowe-492913-vagos-wrote.html
For seven years, Rowe has been part of the federal Witness Security Program he entered March 9, 2006 – the same day 700 federal agents conducted 27 raids on the Vagos Motorcycle Club Rowe had infiltrated as part of a takedown scheme known as Operation 22 Green. Now Rowe is telling his story in "Gods of Mischief," a memoir that chronicles the years he lived in the criminal underbelly of one of Southern California's most notorious outlaw clubs.
The group, which boasts 600 West Coast members, 200 of them in the Inland Empire where it was founded in 1965, is under continuous surveillance by the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives and the California Attorney General's office for its involvement in crimes ranging from drug running and money laundering to vehicle theft, weapons violations, even murder.
In 2003, when Rowe first went undercover, his hometown of Hemet was under siege by "crank-fueled outlaws no one could control," he writes in a book that's as compelling as it is sleazy. Rowe had been riding bikes since he was "barely old enough to reach the shift lever of the little Hodaka my father bought me before he died" and had known the Vagos long before going undercover.
One of his brother's friends "wore the green," and he'd been friendly with a few senior members of the Hemet chapter before they received the patches that sealed their deal with the group. He "had no issues" with them until they become full Vagos members and started "screwing with the locals," he wrote in an email responding to interview questions brokered through his publisher. Rowe was not available to speak by phone for security reasons.
Now 52, Rowe is the latest in a long line of outlaw motorcycle club infiltrators, including "Koz" who went undercover with the Vagos, the Mongols and the Warlocks; Billy Queen, an ATF agent who infiltrated the Mongols; and Charles Falco, who, this week, is also publishing a memoir about his participation in Operation 22 Green called "Vagos, Mongols, and Outlaws." With "Gods of Mischief," Rowe adds a colorful new perspective to the experience, joining the ranks of many other books chronicling the outlaw motorcycle life from inside, including Hunter S. Thompson's 1966 classic "Hell's Angels" and Sonny Barger's 2001 best-seller, "Hell's Angel."
In the book, Rowe describes the violent and alcohol-infused upbringing that first brought him into contact with the outlaw club, though it wasn't until he was 42 that he actively attempted to join the Vagos. Hanging out was merely the first of three steps in a process that, he writes, "was like being screened through cheesecloth" to officially join the club's ranks.
He thought he'd only be involved with the Vagos for two months as part of the federal takedown. Instead, the sting operation lasted three years, during which he was expected to beat up rival club members and share his girlfriend to prove his club loyalty.
Most bikers who infiltrate motorcycle clubs and live to tell the tale are criminals who do so to reduce their prison time. But Rowe, who had served time for drug-related felonies twice, said he simply wanted to make amends with the town he had once terrorized as a meth maker, drug dealer and street brawler who, in his younger years, stole customers' belongings with a U-Haul.
Rowe might have abstained from taking action if not for a friend who, he says, was having a baby shower at a restaurant the Vagos frequented and was forcibly ousted from the pool table at which he was playing. Beaten up by the Vagos, Rowe's friend landed in the hospital, after which he disappeared. His body still hasn't been found.
"I became an informant because ... I wanted to do what was right," Rowe wrote in an email interview. "To be honest, I enjoyed being on the right side of the law for a change... It's nice not having a target on my back. It's a great relief – like breathing easy," he wrote, before adding that the being in witness protection is "no picnic."
"It's difficult walking away from your past and starting over. At times, it's even hard trying to remember who the hell you're supposed to be."
Rowe never intended to write his story, but after giving a talk at a law enforcement motorcycle gaxxx conference in New England a few years ago, he was introduced to a journalist who sold the idea to Touchstone/Simon & Schuster and ghost wrote the book, based on phone and in-person conversations with Rowe and the people with whom he was living during his infiltration. Much of the dialogue between Rowe and various Vagos were lifted from ATF transcripts recorded during the many times he was wired with audio and video equipment "tucked where the sun don't shine," he wrote in "Gods of Mischief."
"Gods of Mischief" is written "how I remember it, as true as I can tell it... That's me, warts and all," Rowe wrote in an email that was far more plainspoken than the off-color voice with which his memoir is written. In the book, Rowe said he wasn't much of a student and was illiterate in high school.
Now that he's living clean, without drugs or alcohol, under the protection of federal security, would he do it again?
That's "a question I've tossed around in my brain quite a few times," he wrote in the email. "Too much of my life was lost during those undercover years and the years that followed. If I was back in that time under similar circumstances, I honestly can't say for certain what choice I'd make."
Still, he believes the type of work he did is necessary.
"These undercover operations are a service to the public. Informants are out there right now risking their lives and collecting valuable intelligence that will remove weapons, drugs and felons from the streets."
http://www.ocregister.com/articles/rowe-492913-vagos-wrote.html
