I wrote this editor's letter in March 1999 to accompany the "Generation Lockdown" issue of Blaze magazine. (Full text below.) It was about the acquittal of my friend Montoun Hart. He had been accused of murdering the son of Time Warner CEO Gerald Levin. Levin was friends with Bob Miller, who owned Blaze magazine. Miller spiked the editorial and it never ran. (The gloating picture sure didn't help.) Even though killing the piece breached the ethics of journalism and torpedoed my public platform of zero favoritism for the rich and powerful, I should have understood the nature of business and the prerogatives of those who pay the bills. But I was young and reckless. I lashed out at the owners and deservedly was fired.
Most of us have a friend like Montoun Hart. I met Montoun, of all places, at Yale University. He wasn’t a student there--not even close. But I was, and so was Montoun’s cousin Mike. When Mike and I got a crib together, Montoun (rhymes with wonton, as in soup) became a frequent visitor. In no time, I became attached to his easy manner and loyal soul. Years later, after we had graduated and Mike had moved back to Texas, Montoun and I still kicked it regularly in our hometown of Brooklyn. Sure, I knew Montoun had a history. He grew up between L.A. and New York, had a few hustles, ran up on a few cats. But I chuckled at his exploits because the only things Montoun ever brought around me were laughter and good times. As with my favorite MCs, I took Montoun’s crimes for granted.
Then came the day when, scanning the front page of The New York Times, my eyeballs nearly popped out of my head. Montoun had been arrested in the murder of Jonathan Levin, the son of Time Warner Chairman Gerald Levin. My heart dropped into my shoes as I read the authorities’ accusations: Levin junior, a teacher, let one of his former students, Corey Arthur, and Montoun into his apartment; the pair tied Levin up and used a knife to torture his ATM code out of him; Montoun went outside and withdrew $800 from Levin’s account; and finally, Corey put a .22 slug in Levin’s head.
As he was shuffled through 10 different jails over the next 23 months, held without bail while awaiting trial, Montoun told me a few diferent stories about what had happened that night. But one aspect of his story, the part I believed, remained consistent: The dead teacher was the son of one of the world’s most powerful men. The police were under tremendous pressure to solve such a high-profile case--and they forced Montoun to sign a confession of their own invention.
Montoun went on trial as we prepared this issue, which includes Part One of our special “Generation Lockdown” package (page 69). A plethora of overlapping concerns soon emerged. How can Blaze discuss crime and punishment without glorifying criminals? How can I support someone with such a checkered history? Does the injustice of the criminal justice system make us forget that some people need to be there? There are no easy answers--which proves how deeply the entire hip hop generation has been touched by crime and its consequences.
I never thought I’d be thankful for crooked cops.Yet after Montoun took the witness stand and exposed their snaky ways, he was found not guilty of first-degree robbery and second-degree murder. As good as it felt to hug Montoun for the first time in two years, that’s how bad it feels to think about the hundreds of thousands of young people heading to the hell he so narrowly escaped. Hopefully, this issue of Blaze will shine some light on a problem that many of us take for granted.
Jesse Washington
Editor in Chief
Blaze magazine
Most of us have a friend like Montoun Hart. I met Montoun, of all places, at Yale University. He wasn’t a student there--not even close. But I was, and so was Montoun’s cousin Mike. When Mike and I got a crib together, Montoun (rhymes with wonton, as in soup) became a frequent visitor. In no time, I became attached to his easy manner and loyal soul. Years later, after we had graduated and Mike had moved back to Texas, Montoun and I still kicked it regularly in our hometown of Brooklyn. Sure, I knew Montoun had a history. He grew up between L.A. and New York, had a few hustles, ran up on a few cats. But I chuckled at his exploits because the only things Montoun ever brought around me were laughter and good times. As with my favorite MCs, I took Montoun’s crimes for granted.
Then came the day when, scanning the front page of The New York Times, my eyeballs nearly popped out of my head. Montoun had been arrested in the murder of Jonathan Levin, the son of Time Warner Chairman Gerald Levin. My heart dropped into my shoes as I read the authorities’ accusations: Levin junior, a teacher, let one of his former students, Corey Arthur, and Montoun into his apartment; the pair tied Levin up and used a knife to torture his ATM code out of him; Montoun went outside and withdrew $800 from Levin’s account; and finally, Corey put a .22 slug in Levin’s head.
As he was shuffled through 10 different jails over the next 23 months, held without bail while awaiting trial, Montoun told me a few diferent stories about what had happened that night. But one aspect of his story, the part I believed, remained consistent: The dead teacher was the son of one of the world’s most powerful men. The police were under tremendous pressure to solve such a high-profile case--and they forced Montoun to sign a confession of their own invention.
Montoun went on trial as we prepared this issue, which includes Part One of our special “Generation Lockdown” package (page 69). A plethora of overlapping concerns soon emerged. How can Blaze discuss crime and punishment without glorifying criminals? How can I support someone with such a checkered history? Does the injustice of the criminal justice system make us forget that some people need to be there? There are no easy answers--which proves how deeply the entire hip hop generation has been touched by crime and its consequences.
I never thought I’d be thankful for crooked cops.Yet after Montoun took the witness stand and exposed their snaky ways, he was found not guilty of first-degree robbery and second-degree murder. As good as it felt to hug Montoun for the first time in two years, that’s how bad it feels to think about the hundreds of thousands of young people heading to the hell he so narrowly escaped. Hopefully, this issue of Blaze will shine some light on a problem that many of us take for granted.
Jesse Washington
Editor in Chief
Blaze magazine