Dearest Visitor,
You may not know who I am or even who Bajito Onda is or has become. I am the first life turned around, given hope and purpose in this maddening world in the trenches of violence and community as well as family devastation. Its all around us. What isn’t around us is ‘unconditional acceptance and love’. Actually I am a nobody who has ‘served the past almost thirty years in the trenches’ not as someone who thinks they are a big shot or a shot caller but as a person who was also in prison and who also lived as an immigrant in Mexico as well as Brazil. My skin is white but my heart has always and will always be BROWN. I am ashamed of the way white people act towards our BROWN UNDERGROUND. Trust me my friends ‘we are the tapete’ the grass roots movement that is about to shake up this country and the world. There are now over 500,000 persons just like me, who have gotten sick and tired of losing just because of our prison number which ‘no’ we will never forget because it is branded into our brains as well as our hearts forever. #12605-077 the unique brand to remind us every single day that we fell and there was no one to help us up.
I went to prison my friends for making illegal birth certificates for Mexicans in Dallas when I was a struggla myself in Oak Cliff. My father, Lt. Col. Logan Brooks Hendrixson (R.I.P.) had died two years earlier in 1980. He was my rock and the love of my life. He raised me like I was one of his troops. I knew right from wrong but I was a rebel and adventurer. It broke his heart when I and my best friend in the world Woody (R.I.P. 1993) moved to Dallas to live the ‘vida loca’ - Instead of being able to get therapy for depression and loss I was confused and didn’t give a damn about myself so I ‘helped out’ some people with papeles chuecos (fake papers). I really didn’t care if I lived or died.. But prison wasn’t in my plan at all. Till the day the Feds busted my door in and threw me on the floor with 20 something guns pointed at my head like I was a big fish. I was just a very depressed little person who really needed help. I guess prison was the help I needed then, cause I was stuck with it to figure it out. They gave me a 3 year sentence out of a possible 5 year. The absolute bullshit I put up with, learned how to become a really better criminal, got my ass beat many times, was degraded and humiliated and fucked with for no reason I learned all I needed to know about depression, fear, defending myself till I too became a very violent person after prison - they called it ‘programming’ but as I went through something like 17 nervous breakdowns, my own mother, sister and every so-called friend I had turned their backs on me I learned ‘there was nobody who loved me and nobody I could ever trust again. My ‘best prison friend’ died after 19 years chained to her hospital bed with her children at her side, not even knowing her. I

learned so many lessons by being inside prison with the rest of the madness guards against the prisoners and of course all races against each other. Back then there wasn’t a gang problem in the streets like now.
Somehow I got out of there after only 1 year. I promised myself then that if I ever felt somewhat ‘rehabilitated’ I would do whatever I could to keep others from going to prison.
When I worked in prison unloading semi trailer trucks with my bare hands to remind myself don’t come here again! I got out of prison and I got a dumbass job in all places - a print shop. I got hired for $6 an hour and the dude one day started to cuss me out like a dog. I said, ‘hold on fool, we need to have a lil talk’. I took him in the darkroom n I told him... You ever talk to me like that again n I’ma slap your head off - I will never be talked to like that again. So he fired me. Healthier for both of us. Since that day I have never worked for anybody. I started learning how to take what sent me to prison (pinta) and I learned how to print T-shirts, make logos, make caps, bumperstickers, decals, whatever the hell I could print legally I learned how to do it. I went to a company one day to try to get me some equipment (sorry I jumped forward a little) cause I didn’t have no money, was driving an ole 72 Ford with the windows stuck all open (rain, cold whatever I could never get them damn windows to come up so I wore a garbage back with a hole popped in it for my head to come out while I was driving when it was wet out) and this guy - he told me after I told him I had been in prison and could not get a job plus I was not in any mood for no mfr to be tellin me shit so I knew it was best I worked hard and worked alone to tone me up and tone down my easy to rile up prison earned knuckle to knuckle temper. This guy is/was named Don Hazard and I call him my Angel. He told me ‘there but for the grace of God go I’ - I never knew what that meant but he said - I just met you today. If I had only known you for a couple months maybe I could front you some equipment to get you started - but I don’t know you. I said ‘C’mon now.. Seems like we’re old friends don’t it?’ (convict charm). He said, well yeah it does seem like I’ve known you forever. So guess what? On Saturday I threw out the lawnmower out of a lil ole shed in the backyard of the house I lived in n he brought me over my first shirt printer and dryer - I used it for over 18 years. I worked my ass off, made legal money and earned self-esteem while earning money which earned me a sort of freedom. Somehow it all worked.
....will have some more later,
Always in Peace, Humility and Respect, God Bless,

Del Hendrixson, Global Founder