People in my life

Mikey Soders and Mikey Conway were two of the toughest teenagers that I have ever known. In a time that no longer exists, these two street fighters were a nightmare to those not skilled in the art. They were best friends but constantly fought one another. But when it was just the two of them against any amount of potential attackers, they had each other’s back and would not stop fighting until the opposition had fled. They were infamous for a short time for shaking down, well, anyone. They’d walk up to a corner where a bunch of people were hanging out there and they would tell them all to empty their pockets. Some would run, some would get beat up, some would try to go on the offensive only to learn that these Kensington dudes won’t quit.

My first encounter with the scope of the two Mikes violence happened when I was pretween or so. I had known both of them from being in the same classroom with them throughout grade school. Plus, they both hung at A+Y and they knew my brother, so I was blessed to actually be friends with them and would later and still consider them my brothers. Well, I come walking around a corner of houses on my way home and I find myself right in front of a real life street brawl. As I looked closer, it ways Conway and Soders fight at least four or five dudes! All at once!! I was still young and green so I just watched in astonishment as the two Mikes just whooped on these guys until each one found the chance to run away. The two friends just laughed and bled and hurled insults and bricks towards their retreating foes. Soders noticed me standing there and just say, “hey Jimmy, did you see us kick their asses!” They always fought with their fists except if they were outnumbered. I was just stuck in amazement at the new sensation of knowing and being friends with the bad boys. They were instant hero’s of mine for life as well as neighborhood legends.

Mikey Conway’s life was changed on the same night my brother passed. He was beaten with golf clubs and baseball bats and was left for dead. He eventually recovered but lost partial use of his arm. His spirit was still firmly intact. He came back to the corners, even fought a few more people, but his friends kept him safe. We lost touch a while back but from what I hear is that he fathered a few children before he had an accident and is, at the time of this story, in Chelten Rehabilitation Center.

Soders spent almost half his life locked up. I can remember a time that he had just gotten home and he gives me money to go buy him a new outfit from front street. I was halfway into rap at the time and wound up getting him an outfit with purple Nike airs to set it off. He looked at the sneakers and just laughed. He said to me, “Why purple? Didn’t they have any other colors?” I got all flustered and muttered something about style but he just laughed it off and said, “Don’t worry about it, young Hultz, I’ll rock ‘em.” He was one of the first guys to call me that name, an homage to my brother.

Mike Soders passed away a couple days ago. Although most of his young life was spent away, he eventually came home and became a part of the neighborhood again. He was never shy to call somebody’s bullshit. The best term I can think to describe him was that he had a heart of gold. He fathered a child and his child became his life. Like I said before, I lost touch with him and most of the old neighborhood, but Soders was a life long Kenzo.

One thing that emblazoned the two Mikes in my head is when we were teenagers Conway would always tease Soders about his birthmark or mole that he had right under his left side chin. Conway would say, “Mike, wipe that shit off your chin.” Soders hated that. He would immediately rush at Conway who was laughing his ass off and they would eventually mock wrestle or something.

Another memory of Soders that I have is of before I hung with WTO. I would hang out with a group of Fishtown kids, playing sports or freedom, something like that. The group of kids that would become WTO only lived a few blocks away, on the other side of Frankford ave, (Frankford ave was the traditional border between Fishtown and Kensington, and in those days the former were the Socies and Kensington was the Greasers and Frankford Ave was never to be crossed by me without my older brother, Joey). So from time to time kids that I only knew by name and face would pass through or come over to start trouble. I was too young for trouble yet and feared it. My biggest weapon in my arsenal at that time was to holler that I’d get my brother after someone. Well, this one time my friends at that time and myself were in the local park playing football or baseball or something. Suddenly there’s a huge roar in th air and everyone turns their head in concert towards the sound. It was a super up motor bike and the driver revved the engine, but right as the sound died down I hear the words, “YO! YOUNG HULTZ!”. I look over and Mikey Soders is on the back and he gives me a fist in the air, like the last scene from the Breakfast Club. My heart swells with pride to be recognized by someone with a rep. I threw my fist up in the air and howled, “SODERS!!”. He gave his one in a million smiles and the moment passed but it will live on forever.