In 1971, two teenagers from opposite sides of South Central Los Angeles sat down and decided to build something together. Raymond Lee Washington controlled the east side. Stanley Tuki Williams controlled the west side. And together they figured that if they unified, if they built an alliance big enough, violence enough, and feared enough, nobody in Los Angeles could touch them. They called it the Crips.
Within a decade, it would become the most powerful street gang in American history. And the ripple effects of what those two teenagers started that day are still being felt in blood and funerals across the United States right now. But here’s where the story gets complicated.
One of those two founders would end up on death row, convicted of murdering four people in cold blood during two robberies that netted less than $200 combined. spending 24 years waiting to die in San Quinton, writing children’s books, getting nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize five times, becoming the face of the anti-death penalty movement, and still in the end getting executed at 12:35 a.m.
on December 13th, 2005, with no last words in a death chamber while supporters outside the prison wept and chanted his name. His name was Stanley Tukie Williams. And before you can understand the debate that still rages about who he really was, gangster or redeemed man, monster or martyr, you have to understand how a baby born to a 17-year-old mother in New Orleans in 1953 ended up co-founding a gang that changed the face of American crime forever.
Because before Toky Williams was an author, before he was a peace advocate, before celebrities like Snoop Dogg and Jamie Fox rallied to save his life, he was Stanley Williams the gangster, the enforcer, the shot caller, the man who helped create the Crips and watched as they spread across America like wildfire, leaving thousands dead in their wake.
That story don’t start in a death chamber. It starts in 1953 in New Orleans, Louisiana, where a baby was born to a 17-year-old mother who had no idea her son would one day become one of the most controversial figures in California history. Stanley Tuki Williams III was born on December 29th, 1953 in New Orleans, Louisiana to a teenage mother whose name was rarely mentioned in public records.
His father abandoned the family shortly after he was born, leaving his mother, just 17 years old, to raise Tukie alone. For the first 6 years of his life, Tukie grew up in the poorest parts of New Orleans, surrounded by violence, poverty, and the kind of struggle that shapes a kid before he’s old enough to understand it.
In 1959, when Tukie was just 6 years old, his mother made a decision that would change everything. She packed their belongings, bought two Greyhound bus tickets, and headed west to Los Angeles, California. She was chasing the American dream, looking for better opportunities, better schools, a better life.
What she found was South Central Los Angeles, a neighborhood that looked shiny and new on the outside, but was rotting from the inside out. Tuki later described their first apartment in South Central as being in a neighborhood that looked like a shiny red apple rotting away at the core. The streets were clean. The buildings looked decent.
But underneath all that, there was poverty, drugs, gangs, and a police force that saw black kids as threats, not citizens. And for young Tukie Williams, the streets became more interesting than home real quick. By age six, Tukie was already wandering the neighborhood alone, exploring blocks his mother told him to avoid, meeting kids who were older, tougher, and already deep in the game.
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He wasn’t looking for trouble. He was looking for belonging. And in South Central in the 1960s, belonging meant choosing a side. Tuki attended local schools but struggled to fit in. He wasn’t academic. He didn’t care about homework or grades. What he cared about was respect. And in South Central, respect came from how you carried yourself, how you fought, and who you ran with.
By his early teens, Tuki had already been in dozens of fights. Already developed a reputation as someone who didn’t back down, someone who’d swing first and ask questions later. In 1969, at age 15, Tuki was arrested for car theft in Englewood. It was his first real run-in with the law and he was sent to Los Padrino’s juvenile hall in Downey.
Most kids come out of juvenile detention scared straight. Tuki came out bigger, stronger, and more focused. Because while he was locked up, he discovered weightlifting. The gym coach at Los Padrinos introduced him to Olympic style weightlifting, and Tuki became obsessed. He lifted every day, building his body into something that demanded respect before he even opened his mouth.
When Tuki was released from Los Padrinos in early 1971, he was 17 years old, stood over 6 feet tall, and was built like a linebacker. According to later reports, when the review board asked him what he planned to do after being released, Tukie looked them dead in the eye and said, “Being the leader of the biggest gang in the world, nobody took him seriously, but they should have.
” Shortly after his release, Tukie was approached by a teenager named Raymond Lee Washington at Washington Preparatory High School. Raymond had heard about Tukie through mutual friends, heard about his toughness, his willingness to fight anyone, and his reputation on the west side. Raymond was building something on the east side, a crew called the Baby Avenues, later known as the Avenue Cribs, and he wanted Tuki to join forces.
The two of them sat down and talked about the streets, about the older gangs that controlled South Central, about the violence, the lack of protection, and the fact that young black kids were getting jumped, robbed, and killed with nobody stepping up to defend them. Raymond and Tukie decided to form an alliance.
Raymond would lead the east side. Tuki would lead the west side. Together, they’d create something bigger than both of them. On a day in 1971 that’s still debated by historians, the Crips were born. The name came from a lunch area debate at George Washington High School where members of the New Alliance discussed possible names for their group.
Options included the Black Crusaders, the Terminators, the MOMs, the Eliminators, the Rebels, and the Black Knights. Raymond Washington suggested cribs, which was slang for young people or a home base. The following day, the options were narrowed down to three. The Black Overlords, the assassins, and the cribs.
A vote was held and cribs won. Over time, the name evolved into Crips, either through misprononunciation or because members carried canes as an affectation and were described in local newspapers as crippled. Tuki later claimed in his memoir that the gang wasn’t formed with criminal intentions. He said the goal was to protect black neighborhoods from older gangs from police brutality and from systemic racism.
He even compared the Crips to the Black Panthers, claiming they wanted to give the community control over their own streets. But law enforcement and gang experts dispute that narrative. They say the Crips from day one were predatory. They robbed. They extorted. They fought. and they recruited by force. By 1972, the Crips had grown from a handful of teenagers to hundreds of members spread across South Central.
They controlled territories near Fremont High School, Washington High School, and the surrounding neighborhoods. And they did it through violence. Raymond Washington had a strategy. He challenged rival gang leaders to one-on-one fist fights. If he won, the losing gang had to join the Crips. If they refused, the Crips would come back in numbers and force them out.
Toki Williams was the muscle behind that strategy. He was the enforcer. The guy who made sure people followed orders. The guy who put fear into rivals just by showing up. His physical presence was intimidating. But it was his willingness to go further than anyone else that made him legendary. Tuki didn’t just fight.
He dominated. He humiliated. He sent messages. By the mid 1970s, the Crips had become the most powerful gang in Los Angeles. They outnumbered non-crypt gangs by 3 to one. They controlled drug distribution, extortion rackets, and street level violence across South Central, Watts, Inglewood, and Compton.
And the signature color blue, became a symbol of fear. The blue bandana, first worn by a Crips founding member named Curtis Buddha Marorrow, became the gang’s calling card. When Buddha was shot and killed on February 23rd, 1973, the Crips wore blue in his honor, and it stuck. But the Crips rapid expansion created enemies. Smaller gangs that refused to join started forming alliances to fight back.
In 1972, a gang on Peru Street in Compton, known as the Piru Street Boys, had initially associated with the Crips. But after two years of internal conflict and violence, the Pyuse broke away and called a meeting with other gangs that had been targeted by the Crypts. That meeting led to the formation of the Bloods, a rival gang that would become the Crypt’s deadliest enemy.
The Bloodscrips rivalry sparked a war that’s still going on today. Thousands of people have died in that conflict. Entire neighborhoods have been torn apart. And at the center of it all, in the beginning, were Raymond Washington and Stanley Tuki Williams. By 1974, Raymond Washington was arrested for seconddegree robbery and sent to Tracy prison for 2 years.
With Raymond locked up, Tuki became the de facto leader of the Crips. And under his leadership, the gang became even more violent. Tuki later admitted in court documents that during this period he was involved in numerous violent attacks against rival gang members and innocent people alike. He didn’t deny the violence.
He just claimed it was part of the life he was living. In 1976, Tuki was shot in a driveby while sitting on the porch of his house in Compton. He survived. And when people asked him who did it, he refused to cooperate with police because snitching wasn’t an option. Even when rivals tried to kill him, Tukie handled it on the streets.
But by the late 1970s, Tukie’s life was spiraling. Raymond Washington was released from prison in 1976, but was murdered on August 9th, 1979 in a gang-l. Nobody was ever convicted of his murder, but theories suggest Washington knew his killer well. His death left the Crypts without their founder, and factions within the gang started waring with each other.
The unity that Raymond and Tukie had built was falling apart. And on February 27th, 1979, Tuki Williams made a decision that would end his life. Late that Tuesday night, Tuki met with a man identified in court documents only as Daryl. Together with two other associates, Alfred Blackie Coward and Bernard Whitey Trudeau, they drove to the home of a man named James Garrett, where Tuki kept some of his possessions, including a 12-gauge shotgun.
After retrieving the gun, they drove to the home of Tony Sims in Pomona to discuss possible locations to obtain money through robbery. The plan was simple. Hit a convenience store, take the money, and leave. On February 28th, 1979, around 5:00 a.m., Tookie and three other gang members under the influence of PCP Lace Cigarettes drove to a 7-Eleven convenience store in Whittier, California.
Inside, they found 26-year-old Albert Lewis Owens, a US Army veteran working the overnight shift to pay for college. Owens was engaged to be married. He had dreams, a future, a family waiting for him. According to prosecutors, Tukie ordered Owens into the back room at gunpoint. While the other gang members emptied the cash register, taking $120, Tokie shot out the security monitor in the back room.
Then with Owens lying face down on the floor, Tukie fired two execution style shots into his back. Albert Owens died instantly. Less than two weeks later, on March 11th, 1979, around 5:30 a.m., Tuki and another man broke down the door of the Brook Haven Motel at 10411 South Vermont Avenue in Los Angeles.
Inside, they found 67year-old Saai Young, his 63-year-old wife, Yeni Yang, and their 43-year-old daughter, Yachen Lin. The family owned and operated the motel, working hard to build a life in America. Tookie shot all three of them to death with a shotgun. He took about $50 in cash and left their bodies behind. For weeks, police investigated both crimes.
Ballistics experts linked the shotgun shells at the motel to the same weapon used to kill Albert Owens. Gang members who’d been with Tukie started talking, testifying that he’d bragged about the murders. And on March 11th, 1979, Stanley Tuki Williams was arrested and charged with four counts of first-degree murder. Tukie’s trial began in 1981 at Los Angeles Superior Court.
The prosecution presented overwhelming evidence, ballistics, witness testimony, and Tukie’s own statements to other gang members. The defense argued that Toki was being framed, that other Crips members had committed the murders, and blamed him to save themselves, but the jury didn’t buy it. One controversial aspect of the trial was jury selection.
Tookie’s lawyers later claimed that prosecutors removed three black jurors from serving, leaving a jury with no African-Americans except one. The prosecution countered with proof that juror number 12, William James Mcccluren, was black, providing a death certificate and an affidavit from another juror to confirm it.
But the damage was done. Tuki supporters would forever argue that he was convicted by a racially biased jury. On April 20th, 1981, Stanley Tuki Williams was convicted of four counts of first-degree murder and sentenced to death. He was 27 years old and he was sent to San Quinton State Prison to sit on death row.
For the first 7 years, Tuki didn’t change. He was violent, aggressive, and refused to accept his conviction. He fought with guards, attacked other inmates, and spent 6 and a half years in solitary confinement for multiple assaults. Prison officials described him as one of the most dangerous inmates in the system. According to a classification report dated August 5th, 2004, Williams had committed multiple serious violations while in prison, resulting in his extended time in solitary confinement.
But then something remarkable happened. In October 1988, Tukie was stabbed in the neck by another inmate named Tquan Cox. The attack was serious and Tukie nearly died. Lying in the prison hospital, recovering from his wounds, something shifted in him. Whether it was the brush with death or just exhaustion from fighting for so long, Tuki began to question everything.
In 1988, Tuki was placed in solitary confinement again. This time for an extended period that lasted until 1994. During those six years, isolated from everyone with nothing but time to think, Tuki underwent what he later called a redemptive transition. He started reading, he started writing, and he started questioning everything he’d done.
According to prison records, after 1994, Williams had no further disciplinary violations. A remarkable change for someone who’d been one of the most violent inmates in the system. In 1993, Tukie began writing children’s books with the help of author Barbara Becknell, who became his co-author and one of his most loyal supporters. The books, part of the Tukie Speaks Out against gang violence series, were aimed at kids in atrisisk neighborhoods, warning them about the dangers of gangs, drugs, and violence.
Titles included gangs in self-esteem, gangs in drugs, gangs in violence, gangs in wanting to belong, gangs and weapons, gangs in your neighborhood, gangs in the abuse of power and life in prison. The books were raw, honest, and written in a voice that kids could relate to. With the help of Barbara Becknel, a writer he met in prison who became his champion, he published eight books for children in 1996 as the series.
The book sold thousands of copies and were used in schools across California. He followed with life in prison in 1998, a stark account of what daily life behind bars actually looked like. Then in 1998, Tuki published an autobiography titled Blue Rage: Black Redemption, a memoir, in which he detailed his life in the Crypts, his crimes, and his transformation on death row.
He didn’t apologize for the four murders he was convicted of because he still maintained his innocence. But he did apologize for co-founding the Crips, for the violence the gang had caused, and for the lives lost because of decisions he made as a teenager. In the book, he wrote, “I, Stanley Tukie Williams, co-founder of the Crips, denounced my participation in and the continuation of gangs.
” Tukie’s transformation caught national attention. In 2001, he was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize for his anti-gang activism. He was nominated again in 2002, 2003, 2004, and 2005. A Swiss legislator, college professors, and other academics around the world put his name forward, arguing that his work from behind bars had saved lives.
In 2004, he helped create the Tuki Protocol for Peace, a peace agreement aimed at ending the war between the Crips and the Bloods. President George W. Bush sent him a letter commending his efforts, acknowledging that his anti-gang work was making a difference. That same year, Jamie Fox starred in a TV movie called Redemption: The Stan Tukie Williams Story, which portrayed Tukie’s life and transformation.
The film brought even more attention to his case, and celebrities began rallying for his clemency. Snoop Dogg, who’d been a [ __ ] himself, spoke out in support. Jesse Jackson visited him on death row. Human rights organizations around the world called for his sentence to be commuted to life without parole.
Tuki also spoke regularly from prison to youths and educators through recorded messages and phone calls. He posted a model peace protocol for gangs on his website in 2000, which supporters said was widely used in gang intervention programs across the country. Individual testimonials abounded from youth who said Williams changed their lives, convincing them to leave gang life behind.
But the families of his victims didn’t agree. They argued that Tukie’s books and activism didn’t bring back Albert Owens, Sai Young, Yenni Yang, or Ya Chen Lin. They said his refusal to apologize for the murder showed he hadn’t truly changed, and they wanted justice. In late 2005, a massive campaign began to urge Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger to grant clemency for Williams.
Thousands of people signed online petitions calling for Schwarzenegger to commute the death sentence. On November 29th, 2005, the American Civil Liberties Union of Northern California announced that more than 175,000 Californians had signed a petition requesting the temporary suspension of executions in California. In early November 2005, Williams’ attorneys filed his formal petition for executive clemency.
The petition emphasized the theme of Williams’ redemption and rehabilitation rather than his claim of actual innocence. San Francisco Chronicle writer Bob Eggoo doubted this method, quoting Austin Serat, professor of law and politics at Amherst College. Actual innocence is about the only ground in which governors grant clemency in the modern period.
I know of no case in which a death row inmate has been spared solely based on postconviction rehabilitation. Still, the campaign grew. Celebrities joined the movement to stop the execution. Snoop Dogg appeared at a clemency rally wearing a shirt advertising the Save Tookie website and performed a song he had written specifically for Williams.
Jaime Fox, noting that Williams’ execution date fell on his birthday, publicly stated that the only birthday present he wanted was clemency for Williams. Other celebrities who took up Williams’ cause included sister Helen Prejan, the nun depicted in Dead Man Walking, Bianca Jagger, former MASIS age star Mike Frell, Harry Bellfonte, Russell Crowe, and Desmond Tutu.
Even prisoners in other states got involved. Tony Ford, a Texas death row inmate whose sentence was indefinitely stayed, helped organize a prison strike in Texas protesting the execution. The Reverend Jesse Jackson marched across the Golden Gate Bridge on December 12th, 2005 with about three dozen death penalty protesters heading to the gates of San Quinton.
Jackson told reporters, “If he is killed, it will not make us any safer, will not make us any more secure, will not deter crime.” On November 22nd, 2005, rapper Snoop Dog headlined a rally outside San Quinton that drew more than 1,000 people. It was one of the largest gatherings in support of a death row inmate in California history.
The Save Tookie movement had become a cultural phenomenon, dividing the state between those who believed in redemption and those who believed in punishment. On December 8th, 2005, Governor Schwarzenegger held a clemency hearing, a 1-hour closed door meeting where both sides presented their arguments. A crowd consisting of both supporters of Williams and proponents of capital punishment gathered outside.
Schwarzenegger gave each side 30 minutes to make their case. Tukie’s supporters argued that he transformed, that he was more valuable alive, continuing his anti-gang work from prison. The prosecution argued that he’d never shown genuine remorse, that he’d profited from his books, and that his transformation was a performance.
On December 12th, 2005, just hours before the scheduled execution, Governor Schwarzenegger denied clemency. In a harsh six-page statement, he wrote, “Without an apology and atonement for these senseless and brutal killings, there can be no redemption.” In this case, the one thing that would be the clearest indication of complete remorse and full redemption is the one thing Williams will not do.
Schwarzenegger also noted that in Tukie’s memoir, Blue Rage, Black Redemption, he dedicated the book to several people including George Jackson, Nelson Mandela, Angela Davis, Assada Shakur, Geronimo Pratt, Ramona Africa, John Africa, Leonard Peltier, Daruba al-Mujahed Bin Wahad, George Jackson, Mumia Abu Jamal, and the countless other political and social prisoners.
Schwarzenegger argued that dedicating a book to George Jackson, a Black Panther leader and prison gang founder who’d been killed in a prison shootout, showed Tuki hadn’t truly renounced violence. The governor wrote, “The dedication of Williams book, Life in Prison, cast significant doubt on his redemption.” The mix of individuals on this list is curious.
Most have violent pasts and some have been convicted of heinous murders. But the inclusion of George Jackson on this list defies reason and is a significant indicator that Williams is not reformed and that he still sees violence and lawlessness as a legitimate means to address societal problems.
The prosecution had also presented evidence that Williams refused to inform officials about other gang members or the tactics and communication methods that the gangs used. Williams stated he did not want to be a snitch. To prosecutors, this was proof that Williams was still loyal to the gang life, still operating under the code of the streets. The decision was final.
December 13th, 2005, at 11:59 p.m., Williams was led into the death chamber. An oval door that looked like a submarine hatch popped open and Williams shuffled in with a green uniform guard on each side, loosely holding his arms and three guards following behind. What happened next became one of the most controversial executions in California history.
As prison officials tried to insert the IV needles into Williams’ arms, they had difficulty finding suitable veins. Williams appeared exasperated, lifting his head several times to look at the IV team. The procedure took much longer than normal. At one point, Williams could be seen mouthing words to his supporters in the witness room, though what he said couldn’t be heard through the glass.
In the witness room, supporters of Williams, including Barbara McNell, gave what looked like black power salutes to him several times while he was still conscious. Throughout the process, witnesses on both sides stared tensely at each other and at the dying man before them. The emotional weight in that room was suffocating.
Finally, at 12:01 a.m., the lethal drugs began flowing. Williams was pronounced dead at 12:35 a.m. PST on December 13th, 2005. He was 51 years old. There were no last words to the prison warden. Outside San Quinton, the reaction was immediate. Over 2,000 death penalty opponents who had kept vigil outside the prison wept and prayed.
Some worried that violence would erupt across Los Angeles in response to the execution. Looking back, Tuki’s story is a perfect example of how complicated redemption can be. He co-founded one of the most violent gangs in American history. a gang responsible for tens of thousands of deaths over the decades.
He was convicted of murdering four innocent people in cold blood during two robberies that netted less than $200 combined. But he also spent 24 years trying to undo the damage, writing books that reached millions of kids, speaking out against the very violence he’d helped create and becoming a symbol of what it means to change.
But does change erase the past? Does writing children’s books bring back the dead? Does a Nobel Peace Prize nomination absolve you of murder? Those are the questions California had to answer in 2005. And maybe the real lesson here isn’t just about Toki Williams. It’s about the systems that create people like him.
The poverty and racism that push kids into gangs. The lack of opportunities that make crime seem like the only option. and the question of whether anyone, no matter how far they’ve fallen, deserves a chance at redemption. Because Stanley Tuki Williams might be gone, but the Crips are still here.
