LUCK

I found this old interview  floating around the internet. I though I repost it.  FORTUNA

What Is Luck?
By
DUCE

What is luck? It could be the opposite of having a bad day, getting arrested or possibly dying. Is it true luck if you put yourself in harms way? I guess some would call this gambling. My name is Duce and as a Los Angeles graffiti artist I have gambled with my life for more than 24 years. After quite a few close calls with death, I call myself lucky.

My writing partner and graffiti sidekick GIN and I were on a mission to paint the Avenue 64 Bridge in Highland Park, California. This railroad bridge passes over the 110 freeway going north to Pasadena. It was not your typical freeway bridge that you could hang over and paint. The industrial bridge only provided a six inch ledge for footing and no other way of holding on but to press up against the ceiling to create pressure with both your arms and legs in order to keep your balance and not fall. The Avenue 64 Bridge had ten-inch wooden planks and a steel rope that ran through the middle of it giving you a false sense of comfort.

On this particular night, I would find out how truly lucky I am. GIN and I had walked about one hundred yards along the top of the bridge to get to the side that we were painting. Gin and I were seasoned veterans. We wasted no time and got to work blasting our names top to bottom, covering the entire height of the wall. Everything was running smoothly until I dropped my caps, the spray nozzles used to expel paint from a can. My immediate reaction was to reach out and catch them. Without thinking, I let go of the rope and began to lose my balance. Panicked, I thought I was going to die, falling. Little did I know, GIN had an eye on me. He reached out and caught me by my belt, pulling me steady till I caught my balance. He saved me from a 100 foot fall onto a busy freeway.

Shaken, but not discouraged, I continued to paint the bridge. Seconds later, GIN and I hear a car spinning out of control and see it crash on the freeway right below us. It was like an overhead shot, a scene right out of a movie. Gin and I continued to paint, undisturbed by the event that had taken place. Those sounds of squealing tires and metal on metal leave you with a strange feeling. Minutes later an ambulance sped up with a Highway Patrol unit. They took the poor soul to a hospital. There is no telling how his luck held out.

GIN and I finished our work. We packed our things and began to walk across the train tracks of the bridge. As we were walking we noticed that the sky was getting brighter and brighter but we didn’t know why. We turned around and realized that it was not the searchlight of a police helicopter or that the sky was getting brighter but that a light beam was getting closer. This particular light belonged to a freight train coming from around the curve of the hillside. In a blink of an eye, the entire train was visible and headed our way. We began to run as fast as we could, as if we were the kids from that movie “Stand By Me” during the famous train scene.

The train engineer saw us and began to honk his horn repeatedly. There was no way to go. Jumping 100 feet down to the freeway was the only option and not an option. Gin and I hauled ass. We ran side by side not stopping to think or look at each other. We were both so scared. We finally made it to the other side of the bridge and quickly jumped to the left side, getting wedged in a narrow gap between a row of houses and the train.

GIN and I were looking at each other, speechless, tripping out on this whole crazy ass situation. The adrenalin was pumping but our night had just begun.

When the train was done passing, we walked to our car, packed up and headed to our next painting spot to try our luck again.