In 1972, photographer Jean-Pierre Laffont captured the Savage Skulls, described as the most dangerous gang in the Bronx, in a spontaneous group pose that he likens to a scene from West Side Story.
Laffont, who moved to New York from France in 1965, was reading the New York Times when he saw stories about gangs killing drug-pushers who targeted young people. Police would find their bodies on the kerb at the bottom of five-storey buildings they had been thrown off.
A dangerous encounter
Not wanting to go looking for them alone, Laffont drove with a French cameraman friend to Fox Street in the Hunts Point neighbourhood. When they spotted gang members on the sidewalk, they stopped and wound down the window. The gang immediately came over to ask who they were. When they realised the pair were French and did not want to interview them, they said: “If you want just to look at our life, you’re welcome.”
The gang showed Laffont their territory: the basement where they had their club, played music and kept many of their weapons, and the sidewalks where Savage Skulls tags appeared on walls, doors and trash cans. They also spent time on a nearby basketball court, where they did not play basketball but fought all the time, play-fighting like little cats.
A spontaneous picture
While on the court, Laffont said: “OK, I’ll take a picture of you.” The gang immediately went to the fence and got into the formation seen in the picture, without being asked. They were keen to show off their sleeveless denim vests with a skull and crossbones painted on the back.
Laffont notes how young they were: the youngest member he photographed was 13, and none were much older than 20. He says the photograph reminds him of a scene from West Side Story, but he does not think members of the Savage Skulls ever left the Bronx.
Police and connection
When Laffont told the police about his project, they warned they could not offer protection. Yet once, while he was with the gang, they stopped a patrol car and he took a picture of them having a friendly chat with the officers inside.
The members were mostly Puerto Rican and spoke Spanish to one another, so they communicated in broken English. Laffont hardly spoke English then, so he believes they considered him a fellow outsider. They had an easy connection, and the gang seemed very relaxed, even exchanging guns in front of him. He did not meet their chief during his few days with them because the chief was in hospital, having taken a bullet to the abdomen.
A moving discovery
Last year, a woman called Laffont to ask if he remembered a photograph of gang members walking down the street, side by side, and if he recalled one of the people in it being a woman. When he said he remembered the picture and the woman very well, she said: “That was my mother, and she died yesterday.” She asked for a copy, saying it was the only picture of her mother that she knew.
Her mother appeared in a few more of his pictures from the time, including the one he discusses, where she is visible in front of the fence. Laffont sent some big prints for the funeral. He describes it as a very moving moment, because it made him realise that life goes on. Those kids he photographed in 1972 were not kids any more.
Jean-Pierre Laffont: Rebels with a Cause is published by Damiani.
